#what the FUCK are you doing in all these tags firing bullets into the air like this for? stay in your lane.

[scottland-manor]

reminder not to use fandom tags to post your vents or whatever this is supposed to be. it looks like you just took a list of any upcoming movie with a number behind or "live action" in front of its title and slammed it on here with no sense of what people in their respective fandoms have actually been looking out for.

"i hope they all get cancelled" as one of the first tags like, okay, and yet nobody in the fandom tags following that seems to have fucking asked. why are you being negative in the tags for shit i WANT to see? have some fucking manners.

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— colder than my heart, if you can imagine

SUMMARY : you and soldier boy can’t seem to get along, but it may be because of something deeper than hatred or jealousy. 

PAIRING : soldier boy (ben) x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : Payback

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), soldier boy cloak-hating, dirty talk

WORD COUNT : 2.3k

A/N : title from a day to remember’s song. this fills the square rivals AU on my @jacklesversebingo card. I know, no smut in the presence of soldier boy?! what?!! xx 

This was it.

This was where he belonged. Soldier Boy. In the field. Well, it was a forest.

But this was home to him. 

The sound of weapons firing, bullets hitting trees and leaves and dirt. Soldiers on both sides and his team were shouting in every direction. 

Thick smoke clouded his vision, coppery blood and gunpowder invaded his nose, and stale sweat filled the air to make it all better. 

He inhaled deeply as a group of poorly-armoured men headed in his direction, their guns were immediately pointed at him. He smirked and counted them in his head as he drew his gun from its holster with impressive speed.

Faster than he could pull the trigger, though, he watched you drop down from the sky like the fucking Devil getting cast out of Heaven. A loud boom shook the ground, the trees shook, dirt rose and shot outwards, and all the smoke ran from you. 

Your cloak snapped at him mockingly and he clenched his jaw, nearly broke his gun in half as you stole the fucking spotlight again.

There you fucking were, a neon sign that begged to be shot at. 

Ice cold sheets travelled in front of you as soon as you hit the ground, your knees bent in what he could only imagine was your graceful pose. 

Arrogant little shit.

The ice searched for warm bodies, freezing everyone in icy cocoons within fifty metres while you stood there in your brightly lit, colour changing suit, and your stupid fucking cape.

He’d heard of you. 

Winter’s Wrath. 

Unstable. Literally. As expected, with a name like that. 

He watched you jump upwards, three times the length of your body before you smashed back down and every pillar of ice that was once a person, shattered into nothing. The ice quickly melted in the summer of South America, as if those glacial shards could do so only with your permission. 

“I had that,” he grunted, stomping forward to get in front of your face. Your dark grey cloak was lit by delicate, fine wires of light that changed colour: red to orange to yellow to green to blue to violet, and finally to pink before going right back. 

“I’m just here to help,” you assured him softly. 

Your eyes met his, but it was like he was only a ghost to you. Your gaze was distant at first, then you blinked once in confusion, and finally focused on him. He realised quickly, you were just watching the lights of your armour change and brighten his face. 

Yup. There was something wrong with you in the head, at least that’s what the other Supes said about you. 

“Stay out of my way,” he warned, his voice nearly a deep growl as he stood in your personal space. You considered his words with a blank face and he huffed out a breath of irritation when you stared at him for a good minute. Then, he stepped away and walked forward to rendezvous with his team. 

He heard the soft press of your feet against mud and the quiet ruffle of your cloak before he heard the gentleness of your unused voice. 

“Can’t,” you said more playfully, “I’m part of your team for this mission.” 

It’s like you knew he wanted anything but that. Someone that would outshine, outperform, and outdo him. He hated it. Everyone was already terrified of you. But he especially hated the colourful lights that followed you and the stupid sound of your cloak whipping your armour as you walked. 

“Got a problem with that, Ben?” You asked when you started to match his pace. He stopped to answer and expected you to do so, too, to listen to him like everyone else always did. Instead, you continued to walk forward while he remained behind you. He growled softly when you passed him and told him, “talk to Stan Edgar.”

He couldn't wait for them to put you back on ice. Preserved. Asleep. Like you always ended up after being awake any longer than a month.

For whatever reason.

“For three years, the CIA and the DEA have been trying to bring down Victor Santiago,” you heard over your ear piece. 

You spaced out as you admired the green of the Ecuadorian forest. A smile tugged at your lips as you breathed in the fresh air of untouched atmosphere, petrichor, wood. Leaves kissed each other, branches bent to touch their companions with quiet creaks, and animals sang their songs of peace and joy. 

Finally away from the city. 

“Santiago got his hands on sensitive Vought information. You’re here to keep Vought’s secrets safe from whatever Santiago has planned. Push into the forest, find his base, and take him out.”

It didn’t take long for you to remember that you weren’t actually alone. 

“It’s so fucking hot,” Tessa complained, mostly to her twin brother. 

“And all this fuckin’ leather doesn’t make it better,” Tommy agreed. You heard him stretch the leather away from his body and snap back at his skin when he got enough fresh air in. 

You rolled your eyes at them and instantly smelt the irritating stench of cigarettes from Soldier Boy. He made his way next to you and took a deep long drag that turned the butt of the cigarette red before releasing the smoke from his lungs in front of him like a damned smoke grenade went off. 

Leave it to the assholes in Payback to ruin what would have otherwise been a great time. 

“All right, fuckheads,” Soldier Boy started, walking a few feet in front of you as he adjusted his shield. “You know what to fuckin’ do and don’t forget…” He turned around and locked eyes with you—even pointed accusingly at you. “…Victor’s mine.” 

You bit your lip to hide your smug smirk, but settled for a fake cough as ideas to ruin his day swarmed through your mind. 

He ventured deep into the forest with Payback spread out to cover more land. 

He could still hear the buzz of Swatto’s wings on his left and caught glimpses of the Crimson Countess a few feet away to his right. 

But most importantly, you were off elsewhere, somewhere he couldn’t see. 

He didn’t want to see you or even feel the coldness of your existence near him. 

He’d had enough of the way everyone seemed to be drawn to you because of your abilities. His team, Stan Edgar, other Supes, and people who wrote articles about you—practically worshipped you. 

He could always control his team and keep them beneath him, within the shadow of the name he built for himself through Vought. But you were impossible to tame, like a blizzard. You froze everyone so they could only stare in awe at you, even himself. And he hated every second that you captivated him, caught up in your powerful presence. 

But it was inevitable. You were inevitable.

No matter how big the forest was, he’d converge with you one way or another as you and his team made it to Victor’s compound around the same time.

But you made sure it was clear that you were there first. 

He felt the ground shake and a gust of cold wind bit his cheeks when he entered to find the enemy forces that you came across completely frozen.

He knew you were doing it on purpose, leaving their fully frozen bodies untouched for him to finish off. He wasn’t going to play that game with you.

He ignored the call for his name and the red sphere from Crimson Countess that shattered the bodies when Ben hurried to catch up with you instead. 

He joined you when you came to an entrance where the guard stood, he could feel you start up again. The coldness of you beat down the heat of him, an ice pack to a swollen joint. He might literally become nothing if you climbed your way up above him.

You left the guard beaten, out of his mind in pain, and focused your attention on freezing the door until it burst open. He shot the guard carelessly between the eyes, his fiery gaze burned into you, but you were unphased.

You turned to face him, your lashes fluttering prettily at him. Smug. Challenging.

If he didn’t hate you, he might’ve liked the way you looked at him. 

But you left him standing at the entrance, looking over your shoulder with a tiny smile on your lips as you came near to a new, massive space with shipping containers and an infantry of what were most-likely henchmen.

There you went again.

Delicate. Elegant. But so irritatingly powerful. 

You took most of them out with the wrathful frost of your abilities. A fresh skiff of snow fell to the ground, on his armour, on his warm skin. He felt the shiver run up his spine but he ignored it to keep up with you. 

That’s when his team finally caught up and it gave you a chance to leave the remaining henchmen to Payback. It was still a race to you, the childish game you were playing annoyed him, but it provoked him into playing along to prove he was the best. He ignored his struggling team and stayed a step behind you as you made it to an old elevator where a small group of goons attempted to escape.

He grunted as he was shot at and punched. He staved off a few attacks with his shield, he punched at whoever got in his way, stabbed at whoever tried to stab him first, and finally was able to reload his gun while he watched you hold the elevator in place.

He joined you once he killed the last few henchmen and helped you drag the elevator all the way down. The thick wires creaked and snapped and blazed at the force of his pull. 

Your laughter distracted him momentarily. Your hood fell back and your soft hair swept over your flushed face when you leaned down towards the three men. You dragged the two of them out by their ankles with a playful grin.

Their attempts to shoot you were futile, the bullets fell from your body like rubber hitting metal. You still kicked away their weapons and pressed your boot into one of the men’s neck. Ben killed the other two as you began questioning the squirming, fearful man.

“Where’s Victor?” You loosened the force of your foot on his neck and the man gripped the bottom of your boot for a proper breath. 

“Come on, fuckface,” Ben urged impatiently, “answer the lady or you’ll end up like these guys.” The man hesitated and considered you and then him. You looked indifferent and cold and Ben looked furious and hotheaded. 

The man conceded with a vehement nod. “T-There's a base underneath.. That's w-where you'll find V-Victor.” 

Ben watched you release him entirely and you went to help the man up, but Ben shot him—casually. The man’s fingers grazed yours and he flopped back down in a pool of his brains and blood. 

You turned to glare at him.

“Yeah?” Ben rolled his eyes at you. 

“Why’d you do that?” 

“He gave us the information,” he shrugged, then made his way to the elevator with you close behind him for the first time since the mission started. 

“It’s not gonna be an easy path leading up to Victor, Ben,” you berated him. He rolled his eyes at you again and pounded the button on the wall with a fist to take you both to the lowest level. “He could’ve made it easier for us.”

“Well, since it bothers you so much, I give less of a fuck than I did before.” You scoffed at him and your jaw clenched. He smirked at your reaction and reloaded his gun to be fully prepared for the next fight. “I don’t think we’ve ever been together in such a small space for this long before,” he pointed out hotly and stepped closer. 

He really didn’t like you, but damn you were hot. Your ass looked so damned tight in your irritatingly light-y suit. He really wanted a piece of you, maybe, especially because you frustrated him. 

Your eyes narrowed at his tone. You looked up at him boredly. “That's because I don’t like you.”

“No?” 

“Yeah, no.” 

“I could make you cum like all your ice went through a fuckin’ heatwave.” He watched your eyes drift away as you pondered his words, your cheeks suddenly frosted with pink. He bit his lip at your reaction.

But the elevator shook as it stopped, landing on the floor where Victor would be. And you were out of there before he could add more to his offer. 

You continued to push through more loyal soldiers, making your way deeper inside. He helped you navigate several hallways and eliminate more enemies. You both split up again, but you always ended up at a nexus point, a hallway that led to a dead end up ahead.

He watched you go into a hallway across from him, but when he emerged from his, you didn’t meet him at the centre. 

He knew you must have found Victor. 

He swore angrily under his breath and stomped into the hallway you’d disappeared into. The lights flickered above him, there was a frozen path you’d created leading into the room he assumed you were in. 

He didn’t expect it, but you kept Victor practically untouched—he just didn’t know why. His feet frozen to the ground, there were no weapons near him. You were sitting on top of a desk, a frozen dagger began melting with warm blood in the head of Victor’s right-hand-man.

He looked away from them, away from Victor with a patch of ice over his mouth to muffle the sounds of his voice. You bit your lip and gazed up at him seductively when he contemplated you with wary eyes.

“Truce?” 

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do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

[strawwritesfic]

Joel x Female!Amputee!Reader: (Don't) Hold Your Breath [Ch. 11]

Summary: You’ve made a lot of monumental mistakes in your life. Cutting your arm off isn’t even at the top of the list. Now you’re about to learn a lot of life lessons at the hands of your savior and her brute of a guardian–and they’re not about to let you learn them the easy way either.

Challenge: "#32 in His Rulebook" by Edible Heart Monster on Lunaescence Archives

Rating/Warnings/Tags: M (post-The Last of Us; excessive swearing; sexual references; violence against children; infected children; references to abortion; references to cannibalism; references to starvation; references to riots; implied domestic abuse; implied grooming; implied sexual relationship between an adult and a minor; death of a parent; violence; gore; blood; gun use; ableism; amputee!Reader; enemies to lovers; not canon compliant)

Pairings/Relationships: Joel/Female!Reader; Tommy/Maria; Reader/Male!OC; Ellie & Reader; Ellie & Joel; Ellie & Maria & Tommy

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Master List (with important note!)

Rule #11: If you get badly burned, let me put some ice on it for God's sake.

It took another day and a half to get out of the quarantine zone, and another week after that to lose the gang tracking you. By the time Ellie popped a bullet through the last man’s eye, you were well and truly lost. Joel and Ellie might have known how to get back to Jackson, but you didn’t, and they were in no hurry to share with you. Aching and stinking, you had no choice but to trudge after them day after day, watching the sky turn pink night after night.

The lack of pursuit did improve the trek somewhat. At last, your pack, having been emptied by your previous travel buddies, had been filled. A gas mask hung from one strap. That had come in handy just earlier that day. Less importantly, but perhaps better on the added cheer front, you were allowed a fire.

Not that Joel was happy about it. Fires meant people, animals, and related things could find you. But snow remained in purple-white piles against the trees from the fall that morning and a hard freeze linger in the air. Sometimes you had to pick your poison.

Heat didn’t seem like much of an antidote at somewhere around five in the morning anyway. Huddled as you might close to the flames, poke as you did at the tinder with the rusted remains of a coat hanger, you shivered violently underneath your worn coat. You supposed you should have just been grateful one of those hunters had even had a coat your size to steal. Somehow, you were not.

It might have been several days since you bashed that man’s head in, but your muscles hadn’t forgotten. Long gone was the body used to cross-country running for the track team, to carrying a broken ten-year-old for miles every day. The adrenaline drained quickly away and left your remaining arm near-useless. The day after, you hadn’t been able to move it at all. Even now, you had to concentrate not to grimace simply stirring the instant coffee in your camping pot.

“Shit,” you whispered as the dented spoon slipped from your fingers again. For a moment, you didn’t bother to pick it up. Instead, you wrapped what limbs you had left around your torso and scowled up at the sky. You didn’t know what was worse at that point: the phantom pain in your lost arm, or the real pain in the one you still had.

The coffee would probably taste like piss, which only served to disappoint you farther. Sure, you’d snapped at Ellie about not needing a machine to make coffee, but fuck if you yourself knew how to do it otherwise. Back in the day, you went to a Starbucks for your caffeine fix. No one ever asked you to do it yourself. Still, even you could figure out that hot water and coffee grounds did not a beverage make.

Another annoyance of the cordyceps apocalypse: You could no longer tell time, not precisely. The watch you’d taken with you to the California zone had long since died. Before that, it hadn’t taken long for cell phones to become useless. At night in a forest, you couldn’t see the moon. Not that telling time was a particularly important survival skill, but your inability to do so rankled even more in your current condition.

It must have been nearing dawn, though, because you heard something move. You stiffened for only a moment before you saw Joel sitting up. His face was difficult to read, dark as your surroundings were and with your eyes filled with the light from the fire. It could not be Ellie, though; the shadow was too large. It didn’t move right to be non-human either. The realization that you knew the thing moving did not cause the tension in your shoulders to lessen.

Maybe he sensed that, although for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why the hell your feelings would matter. His walk to the fire was uncharacteristically slow and steady—like he was sneaking up on a clicker, not coming to talk to one of his traveling companions.

When he got close enough for you to see his face, Joel paused. You caught a flash of pink tongue against the corner of his lips before he nodded at your pot of mud-like substance. “Making some coffee?” You blinked. His shoulders lifted and fell. “Smells good.”

“Thought I wasn’t supposed to take it,” you said, keeping your voice as low as Joel did. Ellie remained asleep after all. You didn’t need to get him riled up by waking her.

Joel shrugged as he sat down across from you. He watched you, for some reason, before looking away. “You weren’t, but,” he turned back, and for a split-second, you thought he might have been smiling, “I might not complain as much if you let me have some.”

You snorted as you took up your spoon again. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

“Worth a shot.” He didn’t seem too bothered, and the next moment he lifted a hand and rubbed at his beard. You tried your best to ignore him and focus on your stirring. Burnt coffee was the last thing that you wanted, especially with Joel watching. Unfortunately, your arm still hurt too much to get away with nonchalance. “You want me to do that for you?”

“No,” you said flatly.

Why was Joel even talking to you? His watch shift was over, and he was likely to get cranky in the afternoon if he didn’t get his beauty rest. When you briefly looked up at him, you caught him roll his eyes. The next time he moved, you did not hear him until he had wrested the spoon from your fingers and shoved you over.

“What the fuck?”

“I’m not gonna steal your damn coffee, so don’t even start,” he said shortly.

You clamped your mouth shut over your stillborn protest. If you’d blurted it out, Joel might have spilled the water out, leaving you without coffee or fire. It was probably best to just let him do whatever it was he wanted. He was going to anyway.

Sullenly, you rubbed your stump to distract yourself from the silence. That was another thing the not-so-new world had. No more iTunes or internet radio. Just you and the great outdoors, and maybe the occasional tagalong you didn’t even want.

“So why didn’t you keep the plank?”

“Huh?” you asked. Caught off guard, you forgot to try to sound intelligent.

Joel was looking right at you; one corner of his mouth crinkled at your confusion. “That plank you used to kill that guy. Why didn’t you keep it?”

“Why would I keep it?”

“Well, you can’t shoot worth shit so—”

“I shot that other guy in the head!”

“Lucky shot. You deny it?” As usual, Joel saw straight through you. God, but that pissed you off, enough that you looked back down at your shoes to avoid seeing him look smug. “I’m just saying, if you can’t shoot ‘em, may as well beat ‘em. Make you less useless at least.”

“I still can barely move my arm, asshole,” you snapped. “And somehow that translates to less useless to you?”

“Look, you killed three men that night—”

“Because Ellie took out so many looking for you!”

you,” you muttered, but didn’t go farther than that. Even that, though, must have made you look like you were throwing a temper tantrum, because Joel waited a good long while before he asked:

“Ya done?”

“Just finish your fucking compliment.”

“Well, like I was saying,” he said, and there again was that thing that might have been a smile but no way in hell could have been, “you killed three men that night. On your own.”

“And?”

“And?” Joel snorted. “Why’s there gotta be an ‘and’? I was just sayin’, I recognize that you did a little better back there. Guess you’re trying. Can I have some coffee now?”

“Why would I give you my coffee after that?”

It was getting difficult to keep your voice low enough to let Ellie sleep. Judging by the lightening of the sky through the easternmost branches, she wouldn’t get to stay that way much longer anyway. You knew waking her up would piss off Joel—though it was perfectly clear that Joel didn’t care if he pissed you off. Even with your full glower directed at him, he just stared at you over the dying fire.

“Ellie said you’d share with me if I was nice.”

“Well, you aren’t fucking nice!” you snarled.

You expected more of a fight after that. Maybe that was why you said it. After so many years of traipsing the country side trying not to die, you appreciated routine. Arguing with Joel was about as routine as your life got those days, and those familiar altercations had been lacking while you fled the quarantine zone gang. But you did not get a fight. Instead, to your very great surprise, Joel doubled over with laughter.

Your mouth popped open. Was he going insane? Not the scary fungus kind of insane, but regular run-of-the-mill insane? Then after a minute or so, he sat up, wiped a tear from his eye, and appeared entirely normal.

“What the fuck was that about?” you asked after another moment of silence.

Joel just shook his head, still smiling. You are, without doubt, the most angry and predictable woman I have ever met.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re doin’ it again.” You scowled at him, and his smile widened. “I was teasin’, [Name]. All I meant was you made sure Ellie got out of there alive. ‘Spose I owe you a thank you for that.”

Somehow, the gratitude seemed genuine. You glanced to the left to see Ellie still in an exhausted heap on the frozen ground. She’d scraped away the worst of the ice and now lay underneath her spare jacket—and Joel’s, you suddenly noticed.

“Yeah, well,” you sighed, “she’s a good kid. I guess it wouldn’t benefit me at all to get her murdered at this point.”

“And I told you you’d regret it if you let her die.”

“I remember that. Distinctly.”

“Good. ‘Cause that’s still true. We’re not home yet.”

You stared blearily into the red embers of the fire and did not answer, maybe because you didn’t have an answer, maybe because you didn’t have the energy. “You’re right, though. She is a good kid. Maybe too good sometimes.”

Suddenly, you fixed your eyes on Joel’s face. Again, it struck you how odd they were together. Joel didn’t seem the type to knock some lady up and then spend the rest of his life looking after the baby. Besides, he kept a pretty constant refrain of “You’re not my daughter; you’re not their niece,” when in all other respects he certainly acted like she was.

“Where’d you find her anyway?” you asked.

“I—” Joel shut his mouth, shooting you another death glare. “None of your goddamn business.”

“God, okay. I was just curious.”

“Keep it to yourself,” he said, and lifted your pot from the fire before you could retort.

“Don’t you dare—Fuck!”

You had attempted to snatch the coffee from him. In the process, you pressed your palm straight to the hot metal. What choice did you have but to hold your hand there until you could slowly lower the pot to the ground? None, if you didn’t want to lose your precious cargo! A few mouthfuls still sloshed out into the snow, but you hardly had time to lament what with your skin blistering in front of your tearing eyes.

“What the hell are you doing?” Joel got to his feet, watching as you danced about the campsite.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you whispered, as though that could somehow dull the pain. A scream clawed at your throat. When Joel appeared quite suddenly in front of you to grab your wrist, that scream died away.

“What,” he said again, “are you doing?”

“You were going to toss my coffee out, you fucker!” you said, and that time your voice cracked the approved volume level. “I couldn’t just let you—”

“I was going to ask you if you had a mug or something. Don’t blame me for your idiocy.”

“I’m not stupid!”

“Did I tell you to stick your hand on the pot?”

“Just shut up! God, I hate you!”

“Would you hold still? I want to put some ice on it.”

“Don’t you fucking touch me!”

He tugged you closer to him, close enough that you shut up. “I said hold still,” he growled.

Up that close and person, you couldn’t deny how large Joel was. You swallowed and held still. With one hand still clamped around your wrist and his eyes still fixed on your face, he very slowly bent, scooped up a handful of snow, and pressed it into your palm. While he held it there with his own hand, Joel stared at you. You stared back, at a loss for words.

“You guys gonna stand there all day holding hands, or can I go back to sleep?”

You looked over to see Ellie half-risen from her cocoon, one fist pressing into an eye. Heat rushed to your face; you tried to tear away, but Joel’s grip on your hand was too strong. If you attempted escape, it would only hurt you worse.

“Go back to sleep, baby girl,” Joel said. When you looked back at him, he had a smile on his face. “We’re just gonna rest today. Save up energy for the trip tomorrow.”

Ellie watched him for a moment, allowing her eyes to drift once or twice to you. Very slowly, she smirked. You didn’t know why, but that look on her face made you want to hit her. Joel’s fingers tightened around yours as though he somehow read your mind.

“You two kids don’t have too much fun,” said Ellie. Then she rolled over and snuggled back into the jackets on top of her. Joel didn’t move, for how long, you couldn’t say. All you could think of as the sky above you turned robin’s egg blue was that your coffee would be stone-cold by the time you go to it.

[youredyingthatsallthereis]

kinktober day 8: aphrodisiac

week 2 lets gooooooooo

roachghost coming across an accidental sex pollen drug on an op and it finally breaks the unbearable tension between them~

additional tags: sex pollen drug, safehouse sex, coming in pants, pussy eating, hand jobs, vaginal sex, trans ghost who has had meta, multiple o's

read on AO3 | nonsenseafterdarks list! |word count: 2355 (ive been dying to write something like this forever i could not contain myself)

"just hold it steady, sergeant, we have no idea whats in there so we can't afford to drop any of it."

roach gripped the small box even tighter, denting the cardboard a bit. he and ghost were on their way to exfil after a particularly nasty intel retrieval op; all the intel they'd had on the warehouse was bad and they'd ended up having to deal with 27 tangos instead of the 5 they'd been assured were at the site. they'd found the laptop they needed, sitting unlocked in front of a now very dead person, with a huge file open with information on some kind of synthetic chemical, the name of which matched the label on the small cardboard box that roach was now death gripping in his gloved hand.

they could tell by the noise it made that whatever it was was in some kind of glass container, so in the interest of not shattering it roach was holding it tightly against his stomach while they booked it out of the old warehouse back into the surrounding tree line.

"alright, should only be a few minutes out once we can get to the l zed, just make sure not to - "

ghost was cut off by a bullet whizzing past him so close it actually grazed his mask, fraying it ever so slightly over the cheekbone.

"WHAT THE - ?"

he and roach instinctively ducked, which would have been alright if not for ghost stumbling on a tree root hidden in some leaves, leading roach to instinctively reach out and snatch him back up, leaving the little cardboard box exposed to -

POP

a bullet ripped through the cardboard and shattered the glass inside. "AAGHHHH!" roach shouted, dropping it like it had burned him.

ghost quickly pulled out a sidearm and whipped around, firing off several rounds quickly before they heard a dull thud several hundred meters back.

"are you alright?" he asked roach.

roach blinked hard and shook his head. whatever had been in the box smelled very strange, almost like... flowers?

ghost stared at him. "what?"

smells like flowers, roach repeated, pointing at the box.

ghost looked between the box and roach. "is that.....i thought it was just being in the woods...?"

they looked around; trees, dead, scrubby underbrush, and traitorously crunchy leaves, but not so much as a dandelion in sight.

"fuck, fuck, okay that means we both inhaled it, shit," ghost looked around desperately for a moment as if a solution would appear out of thin air. "do you feel alright, sergeant?"

roach blinked again and nodded slowly. normal.

"okay; lets put that shit in a bag so we can at least take it back for analysis, we have no idea what its going to do so if it kills us at least they'll have a sample to work with; we've no idea what kind of bioweapon this is..."

roach half listened to ghost ramble while he fished a heavy-duty, water resistant bag out of his pack and carefully put the box in it. he couldn't put his finger on exactly what it was, but wow did ghost look good bent down like that; well, he always looked good, didnt he? not fair really, the way his uniform trousers stretched so tight over his arse, the way his forearm muscles twitched and moved when he had his sleeves rolled up ever so slightly, the smallest sliver of skin visible where his balaclava was pulled slightly up from the collar of his sweater...roach wondered what he tasted like, if ghost would be salty with sweat from running and adrenaline, how he would taste bent over while roach licked up his neck, balls deep inside him from the back -

"roach?"

ghost was staring up at him, gaze inscrutable behind his sunglasses. "are you alright?"

roach bit his lip and nodded, shifting awkwardly as he realized he was already half hard just from seeing a few inches of ghost's skin.

"why were you looking at me like that?"

roach felt his stomach drop 'shit,' he thought. not sure what you mean, he asked, feigning nonchalance.

ghost stood back up, shoving the bag back into his pack. "if i didn't know any better, gary," he said quietly, taking two steps closer to roach, "i'd say you were looking at me the way a dog looks at a fresh piece of meat."

roach felt his face flush under his mask. there was no way; how could ghost know? or could he? how long had he known...?

"not the first time though, is it?" he said, pressing ever closer to roach until they were almost chest to chest. "seen you looking at me like that before. what were you thinking about just now then? watching me bent over like that, what were you thinking about? 'cause i dont think that this," roach gasped as ghost grabbed his now rock-solid dick through his trousers, "is the result of thoughts you'd tell your sunday school teacher about."

roach fought to stay calm; he was now so hard it hurt and ghost's touch was burning even through gloves, trousers, and pants; roach felt like if he didn't get off soon he was going to cum just from looking -

"bet you thought i wouldn't notice," ghost continued softly. "thought i wouldn't notice the way you look at me when you think i'm not paying attention; never occurred to you i might be doing it on purpose, hm? did you not notice how much more often i bend over, take my shirt off, god i even asked you to get me a towel in the gym showers the other day and you still didn't take the hint." the backpack was now on the ground next to them, ghost's thumbs tracing into the seam between roach's mask and goggles. "what the fuck are you waiting for, gary? a written invitation?"

he started to push roach's mask down but roach reached up and grabbed his wrist.

ghost raised his eyebrows.

roach let go. outside? the question was half-hearted; roach was far past the point of caring but the last not-desperately-horny brain cell he had was screaming at him that there might be more hostiles nearby.

ghost considered him for a moment. "safe house nearby, i'll radio in that we were exposed to something and need to wait there for twelve hours," he agreed, taking a half step back. "lets hurry the fuck up, then, or i'm gonna be soaked through my fuckin' trousers before we even get there."

the short hike did nothing to calm roach down; the jostling friction of his cock against the thin fabric of his underwear driving him absolutely insane; all he could think about was what ghost had said: "im gonna be soaked through my fuckin' trousers before we even get there." god he must be dripping, roach hoped he would let him eat him out too, taste him on his lips, dripping down his chin -

after what felt like approximately eight seconds (but was about fifteen minutes) ghost was unlocking the safehouse door and shoving roach across the threshold, slamming the deadbolt shut and immediately starting to yank off his clothes.

roach stood paralyzed for a moment, watching as ghost threw his hoodie on the floor and started frantically undoing his trousers.

"seriously, bug, do i have to hand write the invite or what?"

roach snapped out of it and quickly undressed, only getting his trousers half way off before ghost was on him like a feral animal, kissing all over his face and rubbing on his cock through his pants until -

roach shouted as he came almost immediately, thinking he'd never cum so hard in his life as he felt his pants get wet and sticky with release.

ghost for his part seemed to be eating it up: "thats right, get the first one out of the way now, gonna make sure you last inside me, yeah? believe me when i tell you, gary, i'll take you for the ride of your fucking life if you'll let me."

blinking back to reality, roach looked around and realized they were standing only barely inside the doorway. he scanned for a second for any flat surface and settled on the rickety old cot in one corner.

better than nothing, he supposed.

he dragged ghost over to it, suddenly very aware of how incredibly naked ghost was and just how badly he wanted to be too -

he had no further time to think on it before ghost was pulling him down onto the bed on top of him. his cock seemed to have not softened even a bit; he would later wonder how he even survived staying hard for so long.

"what do you think, love, eat me out first? suck me off a bit?" he looked down at where ghost was toying with his own cock, standing up hard over his cunt that was shining with slick.

roach nodded hard and, shoving his sticky pants off as fast as he could, almost lurched forward and got his mouth on ghost.

"yes yes yes, fuck that's it, i knew you'd be incredible, fuck yes," ghost rambled, seeming totally emboldened by the drug. "christ, gary, you have no idea how many times i thought about this," he said, grabbing roach's head and fucking further into his mouth. "knew you'd suck cock like a pro, fuck that's good."

roach could barely process what ghost was saying to him, too focused on getting ghost totally into his mouth, bobbing up and down with the thought of nothing but getting his lieutenant off.

he whined when he felt the tips of ghost's fingers dig into his scalp. "gonna cum, fuck gonna cum i'm - "

roach got him all the way in and sucked hard while ghost came, working him with his tongue while he throbbed through it.

he finally let up after a moment, breathing hard and getting two fingers up to ghost's leaking cunt.

"don't be a tease, baby," ghost said, "put 'em in there or i'll do it for you."

roach moaned as he easily slid two fingers into ghost, grinding his hips against the thin blanket underneath them as he did. he almost regretted giving in to the impulse as it had him back on the edge of an orgasm in no time; fingerfucking ghost, sucking his cock, licking the slick off his own fingers and tasting his lieutenant like that -

"better save that next load for me." ghosts voice suddenly cut through the fog in roach's mind. "i want that next one in my mouth or in my pussy but either way, its mine."

"AAHHHH - " roach barely made it, but he scrambled up just in time to shove his cock into ghost's mouth while he came again, spurting hot ropes of white onto his tongue and throat that ghost swallowed down greedily.

his efforts were rewarded with a firm grip on his waist as he pulled out, ghost letting his cock go with a wet pop. "think you can fuck me now?" he said, looking at roach's still barely softened cock while playing with his own.

roach nodded furiously; the edge from the drug was was barely starting to go down, but if getting off was what made it better, well, there were worse things he could be doing right now.

he climbed back on top of ghost and let his lieutenant pull him down hard to kiss properly, mindless of the taste of himself all over ghost's tongue and lips, too caught up in the desperate desire to feel him from the inside to even remember how many times he'd daydreamed about doing this.

he got his fingers back into ghosts cunt one more time, slicking them up before using them to jerk him off one more time, wanting to see if ghost was really as physically desperate for it as he was -

roach was rewarded with a breathy moan from ghost as he worked his cock, moving to kiss the side of his neck; he wanted to feel ghost cumming again, hear his pleasure echoing in the small cabin, feel him cum on his hand before he was squeezing around his cock -

"FUCK!" ghost came with a shout, leaking all over roach's hands and the sheet while he tensed and shook through it.

roach was lining up with him quickly, pressing his tip up against ghost's entrance and looking up at him for a green light.

"i swear, gary, when we get back to base i'm going to get the fanciest fountain pen i can find and the most expensive parchment - "

roach thrust in to the hilt in one go; ghost was so wet and ready from two orgasms that he slipped in easily. he had to stop for a moment, staring down at their joined bodies and willing himself not to cum yet, as he wanted to give his lieutenant the dicking down he deserved, but fuck was it hard not to bust from just the realization that this was actually happening, he was really here inside ghost -

ghost tugged him down hard into a kiss again, licking deep into his mouth and wrapping his legs around his waist to hold him in tightly and grind into him. roach thought that no matter what, this was it; there was no way anyone else could possibly feel this good, no way one else could do this to him, he was ruined for anyone besides ghost forever -

the next several hours were a blur. somewhere in the range of ghost's sixth and roach's fourth they were finally able to take a break, neither of them able to completely calm down, but able to relax enough to clean off a bit and drink some water and take a short nap before waking up desperate for each other again.

by the time exfil arrived, roach had a sneaking suspicion that that last round - which had been the slowest of them all, mostly kissing and soft touches before they'd finally put their clothes back on - hadn't had anything to do with the mystery drug.

[queenof-curses]

Show Me you Love Me

Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

Summary: You had promised Toji a video that he could watch on his late & lonely nights, what better way to do it than to make it together?

Tags: MINORS DNI!!! Explicit, Video Recording, Toys, light d/s, teasing, language content, self-loving, established relationship, no spoilers, and more.

wc: 1.6k

Masterlist | More Jujutsu Kaisen

--

“That’s my good girl, show me how much you want it.”

He angled the camera downward, the screen on the camcorder facing up towards his face as Toji watched you through the lens.

Your naked body felt hot despite the coolness of your shared bedroom. His gaze had a fire behind it, one that you knew you were tempting by appeasing his dark fantasies such as this. You looked into the scope of the lens before locking eyes with the gaze behind the camera. A deep blush flushed across your face, making him smirk at your feigned embarrassment.

“Don’t make me repeat myself princess, I said show me.”

A soft gasp leaves your lips as you lean back on the palms of your hands. Bringing your knees up to your chest, you slowly opened your legs for him.

You could feel the wetness of your pussy, its moist heat hitting the cool air of the room. Toji watching only allows your flush to expand through your entire body. You felt hot all over, knowing deep down that he knew shit like this turned you on.

It turned Toji on too, and you noticed the large tent that had formed in his sweatpants in the past few minutes.

“Toji…” you whisper his name before bringing a hand to your core. Using two fingers, you spread your lower lips apart, showing the camera and Toji just how wet you were.

“Holy fuck…” he says before his shock turned into a knowing grin. “You’re a dirty little slut, aren’t you?”

Your face is almost as red as a tomato at this point, his teasing words making you blush. Not so much from embarrassment- but from just how much his gaze turned you on.

The look on Toji’s face was almost feral, he wanted to drop the camera and fuck you at this very moment. He had to hold himself back; he wanted to savor this moment. You had finally agreed to him recording you- convincing you he wanted to save it for later on the nights you worked late or were out of town.

He’d become obsessed with you- but he didn’t want to admit that he actually planned on watching you over and over again. You were like a drug to him, and he couldn’t get enough.

“Fuck… that’s it baby. Show me yourself…”

You easily slip a finger into your cunt, moaning at the intrusion. In and out, you slowly slid your finger along your folds and into your tight hole. It slipped in easily, you were wet enough to soak your fingers thoroughly.

Toji groaned loudly… palming himself over his pants. He pulled the band down his thighs to expose himself to you. His cock sprung free, bobbing slightly from the weight of it standing fully erect. The man was huge, his penis was truly beautiful- a long, thick base leading up to a pretty dark pink tip. It leaked precum from the tip, dripping onto the floor below.

You eyed it hungrily, wanting to trace your tongue along the prominent veins of his engorged shaft. His heavy balls swayed, the weight of them teasing your gaze… It practically made you droll as you stared at him slowly rubbing himself.

You wanted him just as much as he wanted you. He knew that, so he was going to deny you for as long as possible.

“Not yet Princess,” he says after catching your stare on his hand wrapped around his shaft. “I said show me yourself. Show me how much you want me- how you fuck yourself when I’m not here.”

His tone filled you with confidence. You felt alive under his stare- like you could fly if you wanted to. In a bold move, you removed your hand from your pussy. Reaching towards the bedside table, you look back into the camera and smirk before pulling the drawer open. Inside you find what you’re looking for.

You pull out the purple bullet, its shiny exterior glistening against the soft lighting of the bedroom.

Turning around to resume your spot, legs spread wide towards the camera. You flash the toy at Toji before turning your lips up into a teasing grin.

“That’s right, baby… show Daddy your little toy.” Toji says, zooming the lens onto your hand.

You lock eyes with him, feigning innocence before bringing the toy up to your lips. Your tongue wraps around the fake shaft as you coat it in your spit. Putting on a show for Toji, you make sure to look directly into the camera while you lube the bullet with your mouth. You make sure to moan as you bring the toy to your pussy.

“Yes Daddy…” you say, opening your legs up further. “Look at how much I want you…”

“Fuck” he says, putting more pressure on his cock. He pumped himself slowly, squeezing his hand around his sensitive tip with each movement. Toji wanted to stroke himself to completion, but he had to hold back before he blew too soon.

He watched you run the tip along your folds, your wetness coating the purple shaft even more as his mouth watered at the sight.

You moaned out, grazing the cool tip along your clit. Finally, after you’ve felt you teased him enough- you press the button on the bottom of the vibrator.

“Oh!” You cry out. The vibrations from the bullet hummed against your clit. If you weren’t wet before you were now certainly soaked.

You felt yourself leak onto the sheets below you, your cunt seemed to form a never ending wetness that made Toji as hard as a rock.

He watched you grind your hips upwards, practically begging for his cock. Your legs were spread so wide he could see your little hole quiver around nothing as he thought about sinking himself inside of you.

The view was perfect as he angled the camera to your cunt. With one hand, he pumped his cock- with the other, he focused the lens on your wet pussy, watching you toy your little swollen clit and drip onto the sheets below. He could see everything with you spread eagle before him, the fire in his gaze intense as he stared at both your holes open for his taking.

His hand moved against his shaft, moving in sync with your hand, speeding up as you inched closer to orgasm. He watched you play with yourself as he fucked his fist. This was one of the hottest things you’ve ever done together.

“Fuck Princess- that’s it, show me how you cum.”

You felt yourself building up to your end. Rocking against your toy, you imagine it was Toji’s tongue that licked against your clit. Imagined that he would eat you just like this- until your bliss took over completely.

Pressing the button once more, you turned up the setting. The vibrator whirled louder against your clit, sending you screaming. Your orgasm hit you hard, sending you tumbling over as you felt yourself squirt out towards the camera.

Toji watched you soak yourself, coating your thighs and bedding around you. His eyes were wide with shock- the tip of his cock leaked out as he finally lost his patience. This was too much for him- you were too much for him, his control had finally snapped.

He dropped the camera, the idea of recording you long forgotten as he pulled your wet thighs towards him and then apart. Dragging you to the edge of the bed, he opens you wide open.

“Oh!” You cry out, still sensitive from orgasm. “Toji I-”

Lining himself up, he sinks inside of you in one go. You squeeze his shaft tight as he fucks you hard against the wet sheets. He didn’t care that you were still sensitive, he was going to make you dumb on his cock- was going to fill you up with his cum, marking you as his in more ways than one. He wanted to make sure you remember that only he can make you feel like this.

You scream and cry against him, reaching out to grab anything that you could around you. You scratched at his back, gripped the sheets, and tugged his thick black hair. The loud moans that fell from your lips only fueled his lust further.

He pumped his hips against you, pistoning you with his member over and over again. He brushed against your cervix, filling your wet cunt with his hard cock. All he could think about was breeding your tight little hole- wanting to watch his hot cum flow out of you after you’ve been fucked thoroughly.

“Fuck- Toji!!”

“That’s right baby… I’m gonna fill you up.”

And he does exactly that. With a last sharp thrust of his hips, he fills you completely. Hot ropes of cum coat your walls as he drowns himself in you.

You felt utterly full as he left himself fully sheathed inside of you. His finish was locked in by his shaft, your hips meeting his as he left himself seated in you. Toji looked down at you then, placing his warm mouth on yours- kissing you with a heated passion that could only mean he wanted more. You moaned into his lips, swiping your tongue at his bottom lip. You reminded him of a playful kitten as the thought made him smirk against you.

He nipped your lips one last time before lifting himself up. You looked down to inspect the damage that had been done.

It was a mess- you both were coated in slick, sweat, and cum. The soft whirl of the vibrator filled the room as you both looked towards where it was casually thrown aside.

There the purple bullet sat, right next to the camera that pointed towards you- still on.

Toji smiled big. “Well would you look at that. I guess we got our video after all.”

[avocado-writing]

love drunk (your path)

tangerine x f!reader

tags: sex pollen; dub-con (bc sex pollen); love confessions; oral (f receiving); p in v sex; fingering; soft!dom!Tangerine

2.4k words

rated E minors dni

Then, of course, your instincts kick back in. You swallow your fear and grab the man’s arm - immediately turning it into a forward throw and rolling him over you to slam down into one of the lab setups. The glass beakers make a pretty uncomfortable landing pad as he topples into them, then breaks through the entire table itself.

As he goes, a package rips, and a billowing cloud of white powder flies into the air. You try to step back, keep away, but you’re not quite quick enough. It settles over your skin, gets into your lungs as you breathe.

And you start to feel… funny.

Tangerine is calling your name as you blink. He puts a bullet in the guy’s head, then takes you by the arms - gently shaking you back to the room.

“You alright, darling?” he asks, eyes scanning you over. He seems satisfied that you aren’t physically injured but doesn’t like it when you don’t reply. You feel hot. Far too hot; and like you can feel every pulse making the blood actively thrum around your body. Tangerine furrows his brow and lays the back of his hand over your forehead. You gasp at it.

It feels incredible. Just the light brushing of his skin against yours. You step back quickly, unsure, and lose your footing - going stumbling back onto the ground.

“Oh, fuck,” Tangerine mutters, quickly gathering you up in his arms and lifting you bridal-style. All you can do is swallow a moan beckoned out from where you can feel him touching you. You become intensely aware of the thunder of his heart when your head leans against his chest.

You can hear him speaking to Lemon. Something about getting you home. Home, yes. That seems like a good idea. You need to sleep whatever this is off.

Tangerine bundles you to his car, putting you down on the passenger side - carefully bothering to buckle your seatbelt in, something he never does for himself - before running round to the driver’s seat and flooring it.

“You’ll be alright, love. Let’s get you home and into bed.” he assures you, reaching over to give your knee a reassuring squeeze, and you fucking moan at it. It goes straight to your cunt, flooding your panties with slick.

You try to squeeze your legs together as Tangerine pulls his hand back, looking alarmed. You grit your teeth hard as he says your name questioningly.

“I don’t know what’s happening,” you explain pitifully. The feeling of your pussy being gently stimulated from the rubbing of your thighs feels fantastic, and you flex the muscles there to keep it going.

Oh god. You are trying to get yourself off in Tangerine’s car. A quiet voice in the back of your head tells you this isn’t exactly professional behaviour, and more than that Tan is your friend - loudmouthed twat that he can be. You don’t want to make the poor lad uncomfortable.

“Right,” Tangerine finally replies, his eyes torn between the motorway and your gently writhing body. The speedometer creeps up and you settle on keeping your eyes shut, trying desperately to drown out the desperation you can’t quell.

You only open them again when you hear Tangerine parking. You’re relieved to see that you’re outside of your house and, after a brief struggle to undo the seatbelt, you run to your front door. Grab your keys. Force it open and leg it inside. Your body feels like it’s about to fucking explode, every inch of you crying out to be touched, every nerve-ending on fire. You hear Tangerine call up after you but you don’t answer, instead running into your bedroom and slamming the door behind you.

The second you believe you’ve got some privacy, you shrug down your trousers and kick them off onto the floor in a messy heap. You only get your panties halfway down one leg before it becomes too much. You sink your hand between your folds, pressing down hard on your clit and rubbing, and an unsatisfying orgasm rushes over you. It feels like you tried to throw a single bucket of water on a forest fire. You sob and fuck yourself with your hand, tears of frustration rolling down your face.

You do not hear the knock at your door. You do not hear Tangerine asking if you’re alright, then nervously say he’s coming in. In fact you’re only aware that he’s there at all when you he’s met with the sight of you coming around your fingers and exclaims: “Fucking hell!”

Your eyes spring open and meet his. You can’t make your hand stop, though. If you did you think you’d die.

“Tan,” you groan. Your eyes seem to automatically focus on the way Tangerine’s pupils blow out, the immediate hardening in his trousers.

“I should call an ambulance,” he says, but his voice is strained.

“No!” you cry, quickly, and he freezes at the decisiveness of it. You let out a little whimper at the idea of not being touched.

“Tan, please. I know what’s wrong with me, and I know how to fix it. I’m lucid enough to know what I want. We’re mates Tangerine, right? It would just be a friend helping out another friend.” And then, once more for good measure: “Please.”

Tangerine thinks, swallows, then gives his answer by crossing the room, caging you in under his body, and kissing you fiercely.

His tongue slides into your willing, open mouth, and you let it entwine ferociously around your own. His hand slips under the back of your head so he can cradle it as he kisses you; the other sliding down the side of your body and caressing your curves. Your hips involuntarily thrust upwards, brushing your clothed cunt against his hard cock, and you finally move your fingers from between your legs in order to bury it in Tangerine’s hair.

He doesn’t let you. Instead he catches you mid-air, pressing your fingers into his mouth. He uses his clever tongue to suck the wetness off of you and he lets out a growl.

“Fuck, you are desperate.”

“I know!” you practically wail, and despite everything a smile is coaxed out of him. He reaches down to kiss you again and now you’re able to taste yourself in his mouth. It’s intoxicating. You can’t wait for him to fuck you with his tongue properly. You slide a hand down the front of his body and squeeze his cock through his suit trousers, giddy at the promised size of it.

“Calm down, darling,” he sighs, “we���ve got all night.”

“But -”

“Shh. I’ll take care of you.”

And, well, you trust him. Half of your body is screaming at you to just flip him over and ride him until he can’t remember his own name, but the other half is so on fire because of the way he kisses down your front, between your breasts and over your stomach, all you can do is lie there in anticipation.

Tangerine takes the panties off of your leg, where they hang there despondently, and throws them into the corner of the room. Your cunt properly bared for him; he hooks an arm around your thigh and nuzzles his face into the crease of your leg. A staggered and shaky exhale leaves you as you feel his breath on your wetness.

“Look at you,” he hums, swiping a thumb over your wanting pussy, “gorgeous.”

“Tan…”

“So needy for me, eh? Fucking crying out for me to touch you.”

You can’t even find it in yourself to argue back, so you just fix him with a withering look. He grins up at you, ever the tease, before licking a stripe along your folds. It feels like touching a live wire and you almost jacknife off of the bed.

“Look at you,” Tangerine says, moving his forearm up to clamp over your hips and hold them down against the bed; and when he does you feel like an art piece being admired. This time you’re expecting to feel his mouth. It doesn’t mean it’s any less electrifying when he presses it against you though, his tongue sweeping across your entrance before landing on your clit, pressing it down hard and flat. He looks up into your eyes, devilish, using the tip to play with your sensitive nub.

Your orgasm is a little out of the blue. It’s ripped from your body with the force of a freight train behind it. Lights dance in your eyes and you let out a moan, squeezing Tangerine’s face against you with your powerful legs.

“Fuck me,” Tangerine says, amazed. You feel sweat dripping off from your brow as you tug at your shirt, fingers unable to find the dexterity needed for the buttons. In the end you just sort of rip it. He just watches, truly mesmerised, mouth slightly agog at your reaction. It seems the sincerity of your situation is just dawning on him. You start to talk, begging him for more, but he doesn’t need encouragement - his face is back between your legs, tongue at your clit, but this time he’s slipping his fingers inside of you too. You’re so wet there’s no resistance as he pushes one, then two, then three into your warm, tight cunt. You gasp at the intrusion but quickly find yourself engulfed in the pleasure.

“Tan!” you gasp, as he begins to crook the fingers into your cunt while pressing down his other hand on the front of your abdomen. He’s pressing into your g-spot from both sides, in and out, and christ your body is on fucking fire. Every nerve ending is laser-focussed on him. The pressure almost feels like too much, and you reach down to still his hand - but he just shakes you off, pressing a loving kiss to your clit.

“Come on, darling. I want to see you squirt.” It’s more of a demand than a suggestion, his eyes dark and stormy. “Come for me.”

You let the feeling of being so thoroughly fucked by his fingers wash over you, the anticipation in your lower belly building, and with a squeak you feel your cunt flood with your third orgasm of the night: the second one he’s given you. You cover his fingers with your release and Tangerine merely fucks you through it, tasting it and closing his eyes in pleasure.

You lie there, boneless, trying to piece together the whole experience, however you’re still desperate. You are mostly satisfied, and you’re sure you’re almost there - but your poor body is still dying out for his cock to be buried inside of you, your cunt clenching around nothing.

“Tan, I still need you…”

As he sits up on his knees you reach for his cock, so hard in his trousers you’re sure it must be uncomfortable. But, for not the first time that night, his hand gently wraps around your wrist to intercept you. A gentle but firm touch to the chin makes you look up at him.

“Look, love, are you sure?”

You’re blissed out and floating, but you can still see the intensity behind his eyes. He’s worried. You try to bring cohesive thought back to your mind.

“I’m sure, Tangerine. What’s the matter?”

“I didn’t… fuck, look, this isn’t how I wanted our first time to be, alright? With you off your tits on some weird experimental fucking pheromone. I wanted to do things properly.”

Your eyebrows knit together.

“Properly?”

Tangerine sighs and presses the meat of his palms against his eyes, troubled.

“I’ve been in love with you since fucking Moscow.”

Thoughts swim heavy, your mind like molasses.

“Moscow was two years ago.”

“I know,” he sighs. And then you realise: every stakeout he’s offered to do instead of you; every time he’s bought you your favourite overpriced coffee unprompted; every time he’s covered you when bullets have started firing - every single time it was him telling you he loved you, just without the words.

And you’re overcome with the fact that, actually, yeah. You love him too.

You reach up to grab the front of his shirt, pulling him down for a kiss; but this time it’s soft, sweet. Your tongues glide lazily together when your lips meet.

“I love you too, you numpty,” you murmur against him, “always have.”

You feel him reach down between you to start undoing his belt. It falls to the floor, his fly being taken down quickly after it, and he pulls himself out of his trousers. His cock is thick and red and leaking precome all down his shaft. It looks delicious.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to know how you feel,” he groans into your mouth, “wonderful tight little cunt.”

He rubs the thick head across your folds, rutting a little to press the tip inside. Your head lolls back onto the pillow but you clutch him closer, as tight to you as you can. One of his warm, broad hands pins your hip down, the other guides his dick inside of you.

He sheathes himself in one languid movement, all the way up to his base. He’s deliciously large. Your whole body gives a shiver of delight at finally, finally being full.

“Perfect,” he says through gritted teeth, and wastes no time in beginning to move. You watch his cock pull out and slam back in over and over, covered in your slick and come, his balls slapping against your arse as he goes harder.

“Tan, fuck - !”

“I know.”

His hand finds yours and your fingers entwine, clutching each other, anchoring the other to the moment. You feel the last of the drug wearing out of your body as he fucks it away, and you’re left clear-headed if sex-drunk: the man you love is fucking you and you’re giddy for it.

“I love you,” you say, and it makes him speed up, the head of his cock pressing against your already tender g-spot; and when he comes inside of you in powerful jets the coating of your inner walls ekes your final orgasm of the night out of you. Sweat-slick and exhausted you finally flop backwards onto the bed. Tangerine follows, landing next to you, breathing hard and heavy.

Your hands haven’t untangled. In fact, he squeezes your fingers tightly, a silent confirmation of affection. You pull his hand up to press a kiss to the back of it.

“Not just mates helping each other out, then,” you say, and he laughs.

tags from master taglist: @honestlywtfisgoingon @white-wolf-buckaroo @felhomaly @venusthepirate @lunarpansexual @wanderedaway @georgiee-riviere @mushywutty  @apieceoffabulousshit @4ng3l-0n-34rth @minjaz @starl1g4t @earth-elemental18 @luhvbot @underratedboogeyman @july-is-summer @vocalvixen20cp @northerngalxy​ @tangerinesgf @chaoticroaddreamerpasta​ @rxcently @skrrten @nightmarefeast @lost-lila @hardcore-flower @kalli0pe @insanitia  @tvngerinescoat @assmaster37 @oldyellowbricks2​ @cockete @spidervee @eseh-hands​ @cookielovesbook-akie​ @soojinroze

[omniblades-and-stars]

WIP WHENEVER

I was tagged by @commander-krios, thank you!!

Tagging: @sparatus,@stormikins and @teamdilf if you guys want. No presh I'm just out here vibin.

Here's more from temporarily titled "Holding Onto Hell" or as i like to abbreviate "h2h" because I'm nothing if not lazy as fuck.

The EDI node nearby activated, the holographic globe that served as something akin to a head suddenly filled the empty air above it. "Commander, I have already advised Mr. Massani that I monitor all of this ship's security feeds, as well as other critical systems such as combat telemetry and life support," the AI chimed in helpfully.

"And I already told you," Zaeed said emphatically, "that if I ever start trusting a goddamn computer to watch my back, I might as well do it the favor of putting a bullet in my brain myself."

"That would be unnecessary," EDI responded before the node went dark. Shepard couldn't help but imagine that it sounded grumpy.

"You going to tell me to stop fucking around with your ship?"

Jane shrugged and leaned against the wall, "Depends. What all will you be watching?”

Zaeed huffed one small, muted laugh as he shook his head, "Just the airlock, cargo bay, halls and common areas. I'm an asshole, not a degenerate."

"Then carry on," she allowed. When she considered it, knowing that eyes that weren't Cerberus were watching things made her feel paradoxically less surrounded. "This what you do when you can't sleep?"

"What, rewire tech that costs more money than has any right to exist?" he asked only slightly sarcastically. "Nah, I tinker, sure, but I'm not usually surrounded by these types." He waved vaguely around them as he pulled his arm free from the hatch and started screwing the cover back on.

Jane heaved a sigh, "I understand the feeling." The feeling like she was being watched at all times by The Illusive Man's pet computer project, and being evaluated by his operatives. And there was no doubt that was the case, they weren't covert about it. Said so right there on the label in big red print: We're watching every move you make.

"You usually go creeping around when you can't sleep?" he asked.

"I am not creeping around! This is my ship!" she protested.

Zaeed snorted as he stood up and dusted his hands off. "You're creeping and lurking like some kind of spook. I've seen the way you go moving around the crew deck at night like you fucking forget you can touch the light."

Jane's face threatened to either crumple in on itself or set on fire. Embarrassment and the feeling like this asshole had cut right through the mask she desperately clung to in seconds burned on her cheeks. "I didn't know you were up there," she muttered.

Zaeed pressed his hand down on her shoulder, "We've all got ghosts to deal with, Shepard. Won't tell anyone how you deal with yours."

Jane looked down at the hand on her shoulder like it was some unknowable alien object. "Sure," she mumbled, unsure of what she was meant to be doing or feeling all of a sudden. She felt an awful lot like she'd just been caught out doing something wrong.

Something weird at the very least.

"Sure," Zaeed confirmed before he broke away from their conversation and headed for the elevator.

[kittyt-hexxed]

Getting Over Her

Valkyrie | Kairi Imahara x Wraith | Renee Blasey

Word Count: 2.4K

Tags: Post LoValk Breakup, Developing Relationship, Flirting, Supporting a Friend after a Breakup, Happy Drinking, Joking with Friends, Breaking Bottles to Cheer Someone Up, Drunken Shenanigans

Summary: Wraith finds Kairi after her breakup with Loba and cheers her up in the way she knows is perfect for her.

Kings Canyon is always disgustingly hot at this time of the year, but Wraith didn’t mind it. She wondered if it had anything to do with her life before the facility because it didn’t bother her much. Even for someone like Elliot who grew up here, he complains about it and the sand in his eyes all the time. And with her pale ass skin and the amount of time she spent locked up, full sun and high heat should be her enemy. Yet here she is trekking through the cliffside with a bag slung over her shoulders, her chains chiming along in her signature black. The only difference is that instead of a jacket she stuck to her scarf, keeping it draped over her shoulders to cover the tank top she has on underneath.

This was the only arena they were allowed on without prior authorization. If they can get there, that means any Legend who lives here takes advantage of it. Wraith especially. She spends a lot of her time in the firing rage or running through the arena just to train her stamina. Her portals made traveling way too easy. Sometimes she feels like she’s cheating in everyday life, but consider what she went through because of it… fuck that.

The sound of Kairi’s VTOL jets is louder than ever as she rounds the bend. A soft smile finds its way onto her lips as she sees the recon Legend twirl around in the air, a faint laugh reaching her from where she stands on the rocky cliff. It’s amazing she can even hear that over the sound of the jets. But, that’s just another thing she has to thank her abilities for.

Wraith reaches for her Wingman hanging at her hip and draws it from her holster. She has switched out the ammo for her own personal creation—screaming rounds is what she calls them. Her eyes remain trained on the pilot as she lifts the barrel to the sky, drawing back the hammer and pulling the trigger. There’s the telltale click and then a loud whistling sound echoes through the air.

Kairi whips in her direction and Wraith lifts her arm high in greeting. She doesn’t have to see her face to know that she’s looking at her in disbelief.

Wraith lowers the gun, putting the safety back on as she holsters it. The bullets may be hollow, but they’d still cause damage if they hit someone. In some ways, they were more dangerous than a regular bullet.

“What are you doing here?!” Kairi laughs as she touches down in front of her. Sweat runs down her face and she reaches up to remove her aviators, wiping the sweat away from her eyes with the sleeve of her flight suit. “Not that I’m not glad to see you or anything.”

“I heard about you and Loba.” Wraith says, turning and motioning her over to the shaded area of the cliff. She sits down on the rocky outcropping, taking her backpack off and dropping it down between her feet. “I figured you could use some company. Someone who won’t force you to talk about it or talk at all, honestly.” She lifts her head and gives her a small smile. Kairi pauses in the middle of removing her jetpack as they make eye contact, her grip tightening on the straps and then relaxing as she goes back to fiddling with them.

“Thank you. I figured everyone would find out eventually. Especially after the shit that went down.” Kairi sighs, massaging her shoulders now that the jetpack is off, “I didn’t expect you to show up if I’m honest. You’re not much of the socializing type outside of the Games.” She walks over and sits down next to her.

“You’re not wrong about that, but I wanted to do something nice for you. I know how it feels to be alone when you’re sad.”

“Does that have to do with the bag?”

“Yeah, actually…” Wraith grins and unzips her bag, opening it to reveal the bottles of beer inside, “A little birdy told me she likes drinking, so I brought some drinks.”

“No shit!” She gasps, reaches into the bag, and pulls out the box of Canary Custard Cookies. The pastel blue box makes her grin as she opens it up on her lap.

“Those are your favorite, right?” Wraith chews her lip nervously, “I remembered overhearing you mention it to Ramya so I went and picked up a box.”

“Um, yeah!” She scoffs, snatching a cookie out of the box and taking a large bite. A low moan leaves her lips and Wraith feels her cheeks warm as some of the creamy custard filling oozes out of the center and onto her fingertips.

“I’m guessing they’re good?” Wraith tilts her head.

“Good is an understatement.” Kairi sighs with satisfaction, licking her lips and taking another bite. Her tongue comes out to lick the custard that gets onto her finger, cleaning off her hand with a smile.

“I’d ask you to hand me one, but I don’t want your saliva all over my cookie.” She jokes, reaching over to grab one.

“Hey! There’s plenty of women who want my saliva all over their cookie.” Kairi scoffs playfully, lowering her aviators to look at Wraith over the rim. Wraith chokes on the piece of cookie in her mouth and Kairi bursts into laughter. She reaches into the bag and pulls out one of the bottles, popping the top off with the edge of the rock wall and holding it out to Wraith. She accepts the bottle, swallowing the cool liquid down in large mouthfuls to get rid of the burning in her throat.

“Sorry.” Kairi chuckles, popping a bottle open for herself, “I shouldn’t of said that when you were eating.”

“It’s okay.” She laughs softly, wiping a stray droplet away with her thumb, “I walked into that one.”

“You really did.” She nods her head, taking a sip of her beer, “Man, you even brought the good stuff. Do you drink, too?”

“I do. I have a preference for vodka, believe it or not. But, I can put away a few beers on my own.” Wraith tilts the bottle to show that most of it is already gone, “My tolerance is pretty high.”

Kairi whistles, “Maybe one day you and I can have a drinking competition.”

“You’ll lose.” She says confidently, finishing off the bottle in her hand.

“What? Is that… confidence I’m hearing?!” Kairi gasps dramatically and cups her ear as she leans closer, “From Wraith? The Wraith?”

“Shut up, you asshole.” Wraith laughs, shoving Kairi away from her as she reaches down and pulls out another bottle, “I’m serious. I’ll drink you under the table.”

“How about you do something else under the table, Miss Shadow?” She purrs, caressing the neck of her bottle with two fingers.

“Sure.” Wraith leans in, “I’ll take this bottle and shove it up your ass, baby. That’s sure to get you all hot and bothered.” She winks.

Kairi laughs and Wraith joins her, taking a drink when she’s able to. This sets off the mood for the afternoon as they crack jokes back and forth. The cookies disappear between drinks and the bottles pile up as the sun sets beneath the cliff’s edge.

The conversation doesn’t stop. Not when Kairi chokes on her beer because Wraith calls her gay disaster or when Wraith loses her footing and falls onto her ass because she retorted with “you are what you eat” through the coughing. They have such a good time with each other that it’s not until they need the extra assistance of Wraith’s void light to search for another bottle of beer that they realize how late it is. The sun is halfway below the horizon, casting part of the mountain in shadows and the other in a golden glow.

“Shit, Wraith. You’re something else.” Kairi runs a hand through her hair, “Thanks for this. Anyone else would have wanted to talk about the breakup, but you didn’t. In fact, we talked about the most pointless shit ever—how did we end up talking about stained glass?!”

“The beer bottles are green…” Wraith giggles, pointing to the empty collection of bottles on the ground.

“We’re so fucking stupid.” Kairi giggles with her, feeling tipsy in the way only this beer can make her.

“There’s one bottle left.” She turns and holds it out to Kairi who shakes her head.

“You take it. You’re the one who bought them.”

“You take it. You’re the sad ass bitch.”

“Nope.” Kairi crosses her arms.

“Kairi!” Wraith whines, flailing her arm around, “Take the bottle!”

“Nuh uh!”

“Please!”

“No.”

“Bitch! I’ll pour this down your throat!”

“Oh? Bottle service?”

“Ugh! I hate you!”

“Come here.” Kairi laughs, grabbing the bottle and popping the top off. She downs about half the bottle, a couple of drops spilling from the sides of her mouth before grabbing Wraith by the back of her neck. As if knowing what she’s going to do, Wraith is already tilting her head back by the time Kairi brings the bottle to her lips. Kairi giggles as Wraith chugs the rest of the bottle, leaning in to lick the escaped drop of beer at the corner of her lip as the bottle is pulled away.

“It looks like I’m the one who got bottle service.” Wraith smirks, licking her lips.

“I fucking hate you.” Kairi snorts and Wraith laughs, “I gave you half a bottle of beer in the most attractive way possible and you don’t even compliment me? You’re a fake friend!”

“I’m so sorry, Kairi!” She gasps sarcastically, “Let me get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness!”

“It’s about damn time someone–” Kairi’s tipsy mind catches up a few seconds too late, “You were being sarcastic!” She gapes at Wraith.

“I was!” Wraith burst out laughing as Kairi shoves her, “S-Shit!” She yelps, her feet slipping on the rock underneath her. She squeals as she falls over and Kairi laughs above her.

“You’re too cute, Wraith. And I think I’m past tipsy.” She sighs happily, grinning down at Wraith who’s comfortably lying down and grinning up at her. Both women think that the other looks very kissable at that moment.

“I think we’re both past tipsy.” Wraith hums, lifting her arm and holding her fingers apart a little, “Just a bit.”

“We should get going before it’s too dark.” Kairi says but there’s a pout on her lips Wraith doesn’t think she notices is there.

“Wait, wait!” Wraith gets up from the ground, tugging her tank top back down to cover her stomach, “There’s still one last thing to do.” She picks up one of the empty bottles and flips it in her hand.

She takes a deep breath.

Then, pulls the bottle back and screams, “FUCK YOU, LOBA!” And throws it as hard as she can across the canyon. It glints in the low light before hitting the opposite wall and shattering into a dozen pieces. A cheer leaves Wraith's lips as she throws her hands up. She turns to Kairi with a large grin and Kairi grins back at her, an excited glimmer in her eyes.

“FUCK YOU, LOBA!” Kairi screams, throwing the bottle in her hand and it, too, shatters on the wall like Wraith’s. She cheers, letting out an excited laugh and they high-five in the heat of the moment. “Please, hand me another one!” She hops from one foot to another, her hands moving in a gimme–gimme motion.

“Here.” Wraith hands it to her, “Feel free to say whatever you want, babe. Just get the feelings out until the bottles are gone.”

“Gladly.” Kairi smirks, flipping the bottle in her hand.

Wraith isn’t sure how much time passes, but it’s filled with Kairi’s screams and Wraith’s laughter. Some of the shit she says is stuff she’ll never say to Loba’s face unless she wants to actually get shot. And that’s how she can tell Kairi is really hurting from her breakup. It isn’t something Wraith can understand, but it’s something she can sympathize with—which is why she wanted to do this for her in the first place.

The final bottle shatters against the wall and Kairi whirls around, lifting Wraith off the ground and spinning her around.

“Kairi?!” Wraith squeals.

“I love yoouuu!” Kairi grins at her, dropping her onto her feet and nuzzling her hair with her cheek, “You’re the bestest friend ever.” She squeezes her tight as Wraith giggles and wiggles around in her arms, trying to break free.

“Oh my god, you’re drunk!” She gasps dramatically, making Kairi laugh and let her go.

“No. Just really fucking happy.” Kairi grabs her jetpack and puts it on with some difficulty, struggling to clip the straps and harness in. “Thank you for this, Miss Shadow.” She smiles at her, flicking the switches for her jetpack into her hands.

“You’re welcome, Miss Viper.” Wraith smiles back, her turquoise eyes glowing as the glass shards all levitate into the air, “Be safe, okay? I know this isn’t your first time drinking and flying but I don’t want to hear that I’m the reason you crash and burn.”

“Me? Crash?” Kairi scoffs playfully, “Never. Thank you for the memories. I’ll be sure to cherish them.” She winks. The hiss of the VTOL jets ignition sound and then they flare to life shortly after, bathing the cliff in a brilliant light. Wraith squints, shielding her eyes with her hand as Kairi launches into the air. She shouts one last goodbye, throwing her signature sign before vanishing over the mountain peak and leaving Wrath alone.

“Should I have said I love you in return?” She wonders out loud, staring up at the spot Kairi vanished.

‘Maybe she would have stayed longer.’ One of the voices responds coyly.

‘Or she would have kissed you.’ Another replies.

“What?” Wraith squeaks, losing her concentration and dropping the glass. Her cheeks heat up and she can hear an echo of laughter in the back of her mind.

“I hate all of you.” She huffs, focusing back on the glass with a blush on her cheeks.

‘We love you too.’

“...Maybe I’ll say it to her another time.” Wraith shrugs, “If it happens.”

None of the voices respond and it makes Wraith feel a little nervous. Maybe she’s being a little optimistic thinking there will be a next time…

Post tags: @joplays

[bullet-prooflove]

The North Star - Part Eighteen: Lucky - Terry Bruno x Reader (feat: Ed Tucker)

Tagging: @legit9thlunaticwarrior @bbyxoo @the-adzukibean @xoxabs88xox @crazy4chickennuggets @beardedbarba @wooshwastaken @justreblogginfics @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @storiesofsvu @anime-weeb-4-life @witches-unruly-heart @genius2050 @spaghettificationandpretzels @mysoulisasunflower @chavez-ashley @kiwiithecrazybird @proceduralpassion @crazy4chickennuggets @callsignartemis @kmc1989

Part One: Moments (NSFW)

Part Two: Case of the Ex

Part Three: Her Worse Half

Part Four: Always

Part Five: Ask Me Again (NSFW) 

 Part Six: Degas

Part Seven: The Heist

Part Eight: A Part to Play

Part Nine: Home

Part Ten: Safe Space 

Part Eleven: Weak

Part Twelve: Got Your Back

Part Thirteen: Familia

 Part Fourteen: Gunplay

Part Fifteen: Friendly Fire

Part Sixteen: Alive (NSFW)

Part Seventeen: Karma

You stand in front of the mirror in your underwear, your gaze on the compass that adorns your throat. It sits perched above the curve of your breasts, shining brightly in the bedroom light. Your North Star, exactly where it was supposed to be. It hangs amidst the bruises that blossomed across your skin. One staining the space above your left breast and the other just underneath, that had been the one that collapsed your lung, the one that almost killed you. If Sinclair hadn’t been thinking on his feet, if the ambulance hadn’t arrived sooner…

But it had and comparatively your treatment plan was sedate compared to some of the other poor bastards who suffered similar injuries. You didn’t have to walk around with a chest tube sticking out of you, you hadn’t had to have surgery, you weren’t still laid up in the hospital. You were lucky. At least that’s what the doctors told you.

Lucky would have been not getting shot at all.

Lucky would have been never laying eyes on Paul first place.

Lucky, lucky, lucky…

The word revolved around your brain until your eyes began to blur and your chest heaves. You feel Terry’s palms coming to rest on your shoulders, thumbs tracing over the scars that decorate your skin. His chest presses against you, his lips brushing over the back of your head.

“You’re ok.” He murmurs, his palms slipping down to your hips before he wraps his arms around you and draws you into the comforting shelter of your body. “I got you pretty girl.”

Your breath catches in your throat. It felt like it had yesterday, when that second bullet hit, when the air erupted out of your lungs and the oxygen refused to filter back in. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t fucking breathe. Terry clasps you close, whispering into your hair, you couldn’t hear his words over the rush of blood in your ears but you can feel the sentiment. You inhale the essence of him, lavender and sandalwood. It floods over you, soothing over your frayed nerves as he holds you. There was a safety in him, there always had been. He was a man who would never hurt you, who would always love you.

“Baby, just breathe, ok?” he whispers into your ear. “In for four, hold for four, out for six remember? Do it with me.”

It's hard but you manage it. The slow intake of breath, the oxygen filling up your lungs before you exhale. Your head starts to clear; you can think again. Your fingertips wrap around the compass that Meredith had brought by earlier this morning. You’d still been dressed in one of Terry’s t-shirts and a pair of his boxers when her and Mike had shown up, with the necklace and a file filled with your greatest hits. Photographs from that night, witness statements and a whole lot more you didn’t want to read because you remember everything in technicolour.

“For IAB.” Mike had told you. “It’ll help your case.”

“Thank you.” You had whispered.

“I’m sorry.” You tell Terry, leaning back against him. “It was those pictures, seeing them again.”

“If this is too much…” he begins.

“No.” You say forcefully, turning around to face him.

Your forehead comes to rest against his, his hands cupping your face lovingly.

“I have to do this.” You say quietly. “If I don’t, it’ll weigh on me. I’ll never be free.”

“I know, pretty girl, I know.”

********************************************************************

You had never attended IAB headquarters before. The offices were cleaner, more modern than the precincts you had worked in. You thought you could see where some of the budget went. It was a small department but well maintained. Everyone knew their purpose, they went about their business as if you weren’t even there when you followed Tucker straight through the banks of desks and into his office.

The fact you were being led here was a surprise. Most of the IAB horror stories you heard took place in interrogation rooms with two officers and a camera to record the interview. He gestures for you to take the visitor’s chair across from his desk. You comply; your palms pressed between your knees as he takes his own seat.

You can’t read Tucker’s expression. His eyes are on you, studying your face as his fingertip taps at his temple.

“Russo’s dead.” He says abruptly.

You stare at him, unable to comprehend the words that were coming out of his mouth.

“He’s dead?” You repeat.

It doesn't seem real. You had spent so much time agonising over this decision, weighing the costs to you, to the people around you and now it had been taken out of your hands at the final hurdle.

“You’re telling me you didn’t know?” Tucker asks you pointedly.

You shake your head, unable to speak. A thousand possibilities ran through your head. An accident? Paul wasn’t the type to consider suicide…

“Cocaine overdose triggered a heart attack. The M.E said it was quick.” Tucker answers for you, before leaning forward and placing his elbows upon his desk. “I know it wasn’t you, and I know it wasn’t Bruno. I’ve checked out your foster sister and Duarte. They were tucked up in bed. And your team, wasn’t them either so what I think we’re looking at is his dealer. I think he knew that Russo was going down and thought he’d talk…”

“Why are you telling me this?” You ask him, pinching the bridge of your nose in an attempt to alleviate the tension that was building up behind your eyes. This feeling that had been sitting deep down inside of you, that fear, that anxiety, it should have dissipated but it didn’t. It sat in the pit of your stomach, clawing at your insides.

Tucker picks up his pen, using his thumb to click it intermittently.

“I got an email from Duarte this morning.” He tells you, his voice devoid of emotion. “I think you know what was in it.”

You thought of the file in your bag, the one that Mike had handed you this morning. He did what he did best, build a case. You knew why he had sent it to Tucker, he’d pulled the trigger just in case you couldn’t. You said nothing in response to his words because what was the fucking point?

“What Bruno said…” He begins, setting his pen down carefully on the desk. “When he had Russo up against the wall in the hospital. Was that true?”

You pull the sleeves of your blazer up to your elbows and thrust your wrists out in front of you so that he can see the purple finger marks gracing your flesh.

“There’s more if you need to see it.” You tell him.

He shakes his head in response to your words as you tug your sleeves back down over your wrists to cover the bruising.

“I guess it doesn’t matter anymore.” You say sagging back into the chair. “The investigation dies with him, right?”

“Yea.” Tucker says, rapping his fingertips on the manilla file situated in front of him. “We’ve had an open investigation on him for a couple of years. We suspected he’d been feeding intel to his dealer, running licence plates, tipping him off to raids, burning our C.Is. He was smart. We couldn’t prove anything, but we knew.”

“It started after me.” You murmur, your fingertips tracing over the scars embedded in the back of your neck. “That’s the reason this whole thing began, there was a drug debt… I guess they had him work it off.”

“We would have buried him with this.” Tucker tells you, picking up the folder before tossing it back on the desk.

You see it for what it was, an opportunity wasted. They’d had plans for Paul even before you’d come back on the scene. All of this, your suffering, your anguish, your pain it would have just been a vehicle for IAB to use to their advantage.

“You would have flipped him.” You find yourself saying. “Forced him to turn on his dealer, report to you about the other cops he had on his payroll.”

“That’s what my boss would have wanted.” Tucker tells you frankly. “Maybe this was a better ending.”

For who? You wonder because either way Paul’s crimes go unanswered for. It was as if none of it had ever happened.

Love Terry Bruno? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[writersmorgue]

Febuwhump Day 3 - alt. Human Shield

Note: in case it’s not clear, villain ha a quirk that allows him to deflect incoming attacks and send them back :)

TWs in tags || Read on Ao3 || wc: 971

◈━◈━◈━◈━◈

Distantly she can hear her sidekick cursing out whatever villain he’s fighting. Kyouka wishes she could help but she’s slightly distracted by whatever hell she’s found herself in with this bastard. 

“Oi!” She shouts, “Don’t leave me hangin’!” grinning, she spits what’s probably one of her molars onto the dirt. 

The villain snickers, “Don’t tell me you believed you were walking away from this, Hero.” 

Her quirk has been virtually useless throughout the whole fight. The villain’s quirk caused enough pain to her that she finally gave up and moved to hand-to-hand. 

The vibrations have practically emaciated her earphone jacks, but she uses the left to tap into her comm device. 

Flipping through the heroes she knows are at her disposal, she decides quickly. She knows one who always kicked her ass during quirkless spars. 

“This is Earphone Jack, Send Creati over to the courtyard on 3rd. Backup needed.” She mumbles, wiping her bloody hand over her mouth. 

The villain barely gives her time to recoup, lunging at her and throwing a left hook. 

She dodges, ignoring the questions coming into her ear. If they don’t send Momo they’re useless to her. 

But her exhaustion is catching up to her, and she’s slow enough to get clocked by the villain’s second hit. 

She heaves, struggling to get air after the metal glove hits right in her abdomen. 

“Earphone Jack!” Her savior shouts from her left, running around the corner just in time to watch the villain headbutt her so hard her vision blacks out. 

“Momo!” Kyouka shouts, waving her hand behind her, “He-”

The villain punches her again. She knows she has been thoroughly fucked up, but she can officially add black eyes and a broken nose to her recovery list.

She’s thrown back, head hitting the ground just as hard. The ringing in her ears sharpens, and she struggles to find the will to stand back up. 

“Kyouka! Stay down!” 

Shit. 

The villain laughs. 

“Momo, fuck! You can’t use your-” She coughs, red splattering onto the ground below her. Her body groans as she tries to push herself back up. 

“DOWN!” Momo roars, grunting as she finishes her cluster gun. 

“I take down your partner and you kill me so brutally. How cruel, Creati.” The villain coos, tucking his hands behind his back. 

Kyouka hears the safety click off and she curses, “Momo please-”

“Go to hell.” Momo grits, firing without a second thought. 

Kyouka uses what will surely be the last of her energy to lunge, shoving Momo like a child might. The smoking barrel of the gun is tossed from her hands and lands some feet away. e

In a split second, all Kyouka can feel is pain. 

“What the- Kyouka why did you…” 

“Oh!” The villain exclaims, “But what was it that she tried to tell you?” 

Momo sits up sharply, gaze darting to the vision and his… lack of bullet wounds. 

“But-”

Kyouka groans, using the angle of Momo’s torso to push herself off and rollover. 

Blood gushes out of her and she mentally takes note of where she can feel the entry and exit points. lung, lung, stomach… kidney? Fuck, she can’t even tell. 

She can feel the moment Momo realizes what happened. She goes still, her breath hitching sharply. 

“I- Kyouka, he- You- I didn’t mean-” Her voice falters, her soft hands coming up to Kyouka’s face and smearing the blood further. 

Kyouka raises her hand, pressing the seam on Momo’s suit that hides the S.O.S button. 

She smiles, shaking her head ever so slightly, “‘s-ok.” Her chest heaves, vibrating with the effort it’s taking her to breathe. 

Fuck, the naïve part of her expected it wouldn’t be this painful. 

Maybe that means she’ll live? She had seen death before. It always looked so peaceful. She can’t leave in this state, she needs to come back for Momo. She can’t do this. 

“-KYOUKA!” A loud boom snaps her back to reality. She realizes she’d been staring straight through Momo, to something she can’t see anymore. 

“Bakugo and Eraserhead are here, c’mon I need to get you out of here.” 

“Q-quirk... Can’t” 

“No, he won’t do it again, ‘kay? Sensei is here.” Momo whispers, frantically pressing gauze into Kyouka’s chest. 

Oh, right. She did say that. 

“Kyouka, I’m so sorry. We’re gonna get you all fixed up, I promise. RG is waiting for you, we just gotta get you- KYOUKA! C’mon darling you need to stay with me.” Momo pats her cheek a few times.

Kyouka is having trouble figuring out why they need to be panicking. 

She… she feels okay.

Maybe if she just-

“FUCKIN’ GOT HIM. MOMO LET’S MOVE.” 

Who is that? Are there other people here?

“Shit, Bakugo I can’t get her to- we need a healer here. She’s… she’s not going to make it.” Someone whispers above her. 

Or no, not a whisper. But it’s quiet. Where did the ringing go? There was more noise… before. 

Kyouka is still staring. Momo is above her, looking over to the side. Something else she’s looking at makes noise. Some more yelling. 

She feels okay. 

Her chest rises, and she’s no longer on a hard surface. 

There’s a man above her now, he looks worried. She’s not used to seeing this one worried. His scarf tickles her nose. 

“C’mon kid, stay with me. I’ve been doing a good job keeping you guys alive. We’re not changing that now.” Aizawa says. 

Oh, he’s carrying her. That’s nice. 

She pushes her face into his chest, taking in the comfort of his presence. Nothing bad can happen now. 

The strength in her neck falters, and she begrudgingly allows herself to fall back. 

She’s looking up again, now. 

Where’d Momo go? Is she okay?

She wishes she were back on the ground. 

But she feels good.

[direwombat]

tagged by: @socially-awkward-skeleton and @adelaidedrubman

tagging: @strafethesesinners, @voidika, @fourlittleseedlings, @jacobsneed, @trench-rot, @detectivelokis, @sstewyhosseini, @river-ward, @purplehairsecretlair, @strangefable, @sukoshimikan, @cassietrn, @neverthesameneveranother, @g0dspeeed, @gaeadene, @ivymarquis, @schoute, @aceghosts, @confidentandgood, @madparadoxum, @euryalex, @clonesupport, @deputyash, @harmonyowl, @henbased, @poetikat, @inafieldofdaisies, @nightwingshero, @wrathfulrook, @inquisitors-grave, @locustandwildhoney, and anyone else who has something to share!

been slowly chipping away at katc. still a lot left to do, but here's a little taste of syb and john interacting

With bullets flying overhead, Sybille ducks for cover behind a stack of crates in Nick’s garage. She reloads her gun, but rather than popping back up to return fire, she unclips her radio from her belt and lifts it to her mouth. “Hey John. You still there?”

“Change your mind so soon, Deputy?” John asks. His tone drips with eager and sadistic delight.

“Sorta,” she answers, and she flinches as a bullet ricochets off the edge of her cover, pinging loudly as it shoots off in another direction. “Lawyer-types like you like makin’ deals, right? So how ‘bout a deal?”

Shrill, obnoxious laughter spills from her radio, and she’s not sure how much of it is a performance and how much of it is genuine. “You don’t have much bargaining power. What exactly are you bringing to the table, hm?”

Smug fucking bastard. He better enjoy taunting her while he can because she fully plans on kicking his ass before she slaps a pair of cuffs around his wrists. “Myself,” she answers through gritted teeth.

In the din of the fire fight, she barely hears him as his voice drops dangerously low. “I’m listening.”

“Call off your men,” she says. “Leave the Ryes alone and I’ll surrender.”

“A tempting offer,” John hums in mock thoughtfulness. “But I’m afraid it’s not quite good enough. I’m going to need a little bit more to sweeten the pot.”

A barrage of bullets -- likely from a mounted machine gun from the sounds of it -- hammers against her cover. She barely has enough time to roll over the bar counter while the gunner is reloading. Bullets whiz past her from the other Peggies on the ground providing covering fire, and she hears the blam of a sniper rifle taking a shot at her. Her back slams against her new cover just as her old hiding spot is completely obliterated. 

“For fuck’s sake,” she mutters to herself. Her heart pounds in her chest, and although she technically has Nick providing air support, she really hates being pinned down like this. “Fine,” she says into her radio. “What do you want?”

“I want you to Atone, Deputy,” he laughs. “I want you to accept your sins, to wear them proudly, and to allow yourself to be cleansed.” 

“Jesus Christ,” she groans, and then, pressing her finger to the transceiver, she says, “Fine.”

“Ah-ah,” John tuts sharply. “Not quite.”

Smug fucking bastard. She can hear him smiling — can practically see it. Somewhere in the county, John Seed is donning a pleased, toothy grin, like the cat who caught the canary. 

God, he’s easy to lie to. Just tell him what he wants to hear and he starts fucking preening.

Moron.

But it doesn’t make the lie any easier to tell. This is a stupid idea. Reckless. Likely to get her killed. But she needs to get close to him to find out where he’s keeping Joey, and if turning herself over to him can get him off the Ryes’ backs, even if just for a moment, then it’ll all be worth it. 

“Yes, John,” she grits. “I’ll atone.”

“Wonderful,” he breathes. A few moments later, the gunfire ceases and all that’s left is the ringing in her ears. “My Chosen are on their way, Deputy. It’s in your and the Ryes’ best interest if you don’t resist. It’d be a shame if anything happened to the happy family, now wouldn’t it?”

“I already said ‘yes,’ didn’t I?” she asks.

[pedritomosquito]

Unmute (Ch 2)

Summary: Joel's journey to find Tommy is interrupted by a girl who needs help. A whole lot changes for both of them when she ends up tagging along. This Chapter: Ellie vs. Seat Belt Part II, Joel and Ellie run into trouble, and Ellie finally speaks.

Pairing: No Pairings, just Joel & Ellie

Word count: ~2k

Warnings: SA recovery, brief reference to suicidal thoughts, canon-typical gun violence, Mute(ish) character

Getting back on the road was Joel’s first priority. As soon as the sun had risen, Joel packed up camp.

“Hey, time to get up,” He called to the teen still asleep on the forest floor. She didn’t stir so he moved a bit closer. “Ellie, wake up!” He tentatively leaned over, nudging her shoulder.

She startled and gasped, her fist automatically flying up at him. “Easy now!” He caught it just before it reached his chin. 

Her wild eyes landed on him.

“Hey,” He said apprehensively. “Let’s go.”

He walked back to the car and watched in the rearview as the girl rolled up her sleeping bag and climbed in the passenger side.

“Seat belt,” He murmured.

She pulled at the belt too quickly, making it lock. She tried again with more force and got stuck in the same spot.

“Slower,” He said simply.

She side eyed him and began to pull the belt in slow motion, millimeter by millimeter.

He sighed heavily.

The quiet zipping noise of the seat belt unreeling continued, full seconds ticking by. The latch scraped its way into the buckle until finally clicked. Joel glared at her as he pushed the gear into reverse and she looked out the window unbothered.

The road seemed wide open, the visibility clear to see for miles down the long stretch of highway. 

They were driving under an overpass when everything went to shit. 

A truck wildly screeched onto the pavement behind them. It was a FEDRA vehicle with two officers sitting inside. 

“Fuck,” Joel hissed, slamming on the gas. “What the fuck is FEDRA doing all the way out here?”

Ellie’s eyes grew wide as she gasped looking in the side mirror. There was a clear look of recognition in her eyes. 

“You know these guys?” Joel asked.

She nodded frantically.

“Gonna need more information than that!” Joel said shortly before a gunshot rang and Ellie jumped.

“H-He sold me,” Ellie stuttered out.

“What?” The answer only spawned a hundred new questions.

Another two gunshots had Joel swerving as one hit a back tire.

“They sell the k-kids–from my FEDRA school,” She explained quickly. The implications of her statement took a moment to hit Joel.

“Jesus Christ–” Joel denounced. More bullets flew. “Hold this,” He directed Ellie to take the wheel. There was no time for any debate, so Ellie leaned over and kept it as straight as she could while Joel picked up his rifle, firing bullets through the back window.

The blood spatter on the windshield and swerve of the truck behind them was indication enough that he’d hit the driver. The passenger fired two last shots as the truck started to drift off the road. 

One of the bullets hit the remaining back tire, making the steering wheel lurch and jerk out of Ellie’s nervous hands. Joel rushed to steady it but they were already skidding. They ran sideways off of the pavement, hitting the grass and coming to the edge of the embankment. The car dove nose first into the ditch.

The explosion of airbags and screeching crunch of metal making impact with the ground was deafening. It was the last thing Joel heard before he came to, lifting his head off of the steering wheel. It took a few seconds for Joel’s mind to jolt back to life. White powder plumed in the air. 

Through the thick fog, Joel saw Sarah in the passenger seat for a moment. 

“Are you okay?” He asked.

Ellie coughed before replying with a nod. 

Joel held onto his gun as he started to extract himself from the car. Ellie fumbled to unbuckle herself, pushing open the door enough to slip out.

Two strong arms suddenly wrapped around her neck from behind, heaving her into the grass as she screamed.

Joel instantly made it around the car, gun pointed at the FEDRA officer that was hauling Ellie up as she struggled wildly. The officer matched him in stance, assault rifle raised.

“You know how much fucking trouble you’ve caused?” He raged, out of breath.

“Wish I gave a shit,” Joel replied coldly. Joel had trafficked plenty in his life–drugs, weapons. He never claimed he was a good person. But he never trafficked people. Never children. 

He stayed locked on his target but made out Ellie reaching into her pocket in his periphery, knowing exactly what she’d stashed there. She stared at Joel, a rare moment of eye contact, trying to ready him for his opportunity. He gave her a microscopic nod.

She plunged the bandage scissors into the officer’s thigh and threw herself to the ground as soon as his grip loosened. Joel took the shot, pleased to watch the life leaving the man’s body as it limply dropped.

Ellie crawled to her feet, ripping the scissors out of the man’s leg and returning them to her pocket. 

The quiet stretched between them, no screeching tires or gunshots, just the sound of their own breathing.

Joel turned and surveyed the damage around them. The hood of the car was mangled and smoking, half buried in the ditch’s overgrown weeds. The FEDRA truck laid across the road on its side in a similar state.

“Fuck,” Joel sighed heavily. Here they were with two useless cars, the only functioning one left hundreds of miles behind them. “ Fuck !” He shouted into the void. “I had a perfectly good chance of making it to Wyoming and now that is gone ,” Joel seethed. 

He looked back at Ellie.

“Were you ever going to mention that there were more of them? That FEDRA was going to come looking for you?!” He questioned.

Ellie just shrugged, making Joel fume even hotter.

“God dammit !” 

“Go ahead, hit me,” Ellie said in resignation, almost a challenge.

Joel waved her off, scoffing at the ridiculous suggestion. “I’m not going to hit you.” 

He did a double take when he found genuine confusion on her face.

“Then what?” Her voice trembled. ”What do you want from me? You don’t want to fuck me, you don’t want to hit me?” She glossed, desperate to make sense of it all.

It was still a shock to hear her voice, let alone raised, so many words pouring from her. Even worse, Joel didn’t have an answer.

“Ellie…”

“I asked you to kill me, you know I asked you!” She stepped towards him, pointing an accusatory finger, tears gathering in her eyes, “And you didn’t.” 

Joel couldn’t do anything but stare, his mouth parted with not a single idea of a word on his tongue. 

He doesn’t know why he helped her. Leaving her behind wouldn’t have even held a candle to some of the horrible things he’d done.

“What do you want from me?!” She pleaded, her voice shredded, “I don’t understand! I-I don’t–!” 

She took a step forward, reaching to place a steadying hand on the car’s bumper. She withdrew her hand as soon as she placed weight on it, her cries spiking.

He saw the way she clutched at her wrist.

“You’re hurt,” He said quietly as he walked toward her.

“Get the fuck away from me!” She warned, stopping him in his tracks.

“Okay,” He acquiesced, backing off, “Okay.” 

Her tears were clawing away at the numbness Joel had so carefully built inside himself. They left scratches shaped like Sarah. He should have comforted Ellie, he even wanted to, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. He loitered for a moment until she turned away, starting to pull herself together. 

He closed his eyes, trying to exhale the weight that had settled on his chest. He didn’t have time for this.

He got his backpack and started digging through the car, deciding what supplies to take with him. He looked at Ellie’s pack, sitting in the passenger seat. He snatched it and loaded it up the same. 

He found Ellie sitting against one of the car’s blown tires. He tossed her bag and it landed heavily at her feet.

Her eyes shifted in his direction.

“I’m going west,” He said. It was a simple declaration. It was an invitation. It was the best he could do.

He started walking, trying to tell himself that he was completely focused on finding Tommy. 

He couldn’t explain the sense of relief he felt when he heard a pair of footsteps trailing behind him.

—--

An entire day of walking after totaling a car was not kind on his 56 year old body. He found a spot as good as any to lay down for the night.

Ellie had tucked herself behind a tree as she dug through her bag one-handed. Joel noticed she hadn’t used her left arm all day, usually cradling it against her other hand.

He stole occasional glances, unable to help his curiosity. She was taking out a bandage and starting to wrap her wrist. The fabric was unruly and she struggled to wind it with one hand. She tried over and over, clearly becoming impatient and muttering colorful obscenities. He watched her shoulders drop in defeat.

He cautiously approached her.

“Let me do it,” He offered.

She withdrew, clearly startled. She shot him with her typical side eye. He sighed.

“Do you want your hand to work tomorrow or not?” He said.

She considered it for a moment.

“I don’t like being touched,” She muttered coldly. It was the first words she’d spoken in eight hours.

He knelt down. “Yeah I gathered that,” He replied, replaying almost getting socked in the face that morning. “I’ll be quick.”

She passed him the bandage but still hesitated when he reached for it, barely allowing him to take it. He gestured for her hand and she presented it to him begrudgingly. It was bruised a deep purple and swollen down to her fingertips. He started to wrap it, beginning with fingers and working up her arm. She’d held in any acknowledgement of pain until he made it to her wrist.

“Ow!”

“Sorry,” he apologized softly, adjusting his gentle hold on her before continuing.

He fought against himself as he tried to speak. It would be much easier to stay silent than say what was on his mind.

“I didn’t kill you because I didn’t want to,” He finally said quietly, still focused on her wrist. “And being hit and being… That’s not what you’re for. To anyone. That shouldn’t have happened to you. And I’m sorry.”

Ellie stared out at the trees in front of her. Her silence was no shock, but he was surprised when she wiped away tears on the shoulder of her jacket. He tucked the end of the bandage in and got up. She eventually followed, sitting down on her sleeping bag and huddling up for warmth.

He laid out his own sleeping bag and rummaged around in his pack for something to eat. 

“Fire?” She asked. He had to turn and look at her to confirm she’d spoken. He wondered if he would always be caught off guard when she decided to speak. 

“No,” Joel replied as he shrugged off his coat, “That’s a bad idea.”

“Clickers?” She asked.

He dropped the coat in her lap before sitting heavily on his sleeping bag. She looked between him and the coat before wrapping it around herself.

“People.” He replied.

—--

Later in the night, he saw that Ellie had produced the same book as yesterday. She wore the same subtle smirk too.

“Go to sleep. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.”

He switched off the lantern and turned over. The wind blew and he realized Ellie was still wearing his coat.

“Joel?”

“What?”

“Those people?” She began, “No one’s going to find us here, right?”

The fear showed only a little in her voice but it was clear in her question.

“No. No one’s going to find us here.”

A/N: Thanks for reading! Let me know your favorite line/moment/thing, it always makes my day :)

Chapter 3 --->

[safyresky]

Frostmas Year 5: Behind the Scenes

Prologue | Y1 | Y2 | Y3 | Y4 | Y5 | Y6 | Y7 | Y8 | Y9 | Y10 | Y11 | Y12

[To Read Frostmas: From the TOP on ao3 | ff dot net]

We are writing this one FRESH from the second to last edit of the 2024 version! A shorter one for sure, as this is very much the calm before the storm chapter, but a fun one anyway >:)

Let's fucking GOOOO

Jacqueline's Intro: SO MUCH LORE

So much lore I'm gonna have to tag this as CS Lore and CS FACTS

Anyway

I think this was the first time, when originally writing, that I properly opened with Jacqueline's Intro and recognized it as part of the structure of a Frostmas Year

It was a HUGE lore dump! I toned it down a notch this time around, streamlined it and such, and updated the lore as I've got the frozen heart thing tightened UP

It's a sprite thing, so it's like this:

Sprites

Personified Natural Elements

Two types:

Season (has domain over entire season's worth of elements)

Elemental (has domain over one element, i.e., fire, air, water, earth, flora, fauna, winds, etc.)

Elementals typically classify themselves by their element, but will align with a season as a catch all

The season they align with dictates how their hardened hear manifests

LORE! YAY!

(Also, I wrote this in Word so lets see if the bulleted list stays >:3)

(OMG IT DID. Well, in the editor. We'll see how it looks post posting...)

Fun fact: I did a DnD campaign with my pals where sprites were playable characters, and I made them a race sheet and EVERYTHING. They are DEFFS OP but it's a homebrew--we work on it, lol

And also we only played like, 3 or 4 sessions and then fell out bc we all moved or what have you lol

BUT the dnd-ing DID help me refine sprite lore!

Elemental sprites are WAY more common that seasonal sprites. There are only NINE seasonal sprites in existence these days. WAY more elemental sprites around

The Call NERFED sprites

You can thank Snowy and Heat for that one (as Jacqueline mentions in her intro!)

The Snow Queen and the Winter Warlock are Winter's bio parents, and this was the very first time I dropped their names. They make a proper appearance in The Call!

The Snow Queen stealing children references the original fairy tale in the most Jacqueline way possible

And the Winter Warlock is HEAVILY based on the man of the same name from Rankin Bass's Santa Claus is Comin' to Town. Those movies SHAPED ME. CS Lore originally had RB lore, too! And RB movies did influence CS in general!

So many fun facts and I'm not even through the intro yet! WOW!

I did cleverly link CS when Jacqueline drops the Pyros lore 🤭🤭 I LOVE AO3'S CAPABILITIES, YOU GUYS

I CAN'T DO THAT SHIT ON FF DOT NET!

"It used to be a point of pride for me."

This line almost went "It used to be a point of pride for me. But it's hard to take pride in a lie"

Which is a BANGER of a line, but I am trying to keep the Y10 Reveal under wraps and that's as obvious as Pyros's lament to Blaise in Chapter 15 of CS.

You can see the 2020s influences now, which is very funny given this was all originally written almost a decade ago. I love seeing growth! But that's why Jacqueline is like THE HORRORS and also like NEWSFLASH, JACQUELINE! Which is a reference to one of my favourite It's Always Sunny reaction images:

It's so VERSATILE. Deffs top 10 things Dani quotes (and apparently Jacqueline. Which checks out as we are CONNECTED, muses and such. Oldest OC. Has the most dani-isms. Blah blah blah)

Then there's the "be the change you wish to see in the world" with her being like "YOU can be the change you want to see in this horrible terrible timeline!"

Which is a string of words I see on hellsite a LOT :)

Describing her fit was FUN! You can see it accurately (more or less) in this scrimbly Jacqueline, and also this Jacquie as a meme doodle!

And of course, off she goes to terrorize B-Man :)

Scene 1: Every Day Bernard WAKES UP

Their friendship is so fun to me and me alone 🥰🥰

She's such a sweetie. She's like "I will make things HELL for my brother BUT only if it's okay with Bernard first bc I don't wanna make things harder than they are for him 👉🏻👈🏻"

Him being B-Man, of course

Have you guys ever read Just An Elf by Locrain-Mode? If you haven't, I STRONGLY RECOMMEND IT (hence the link!) It's a group of oneshots based on Bernard and things he is NOT, and each one SLAPS. They write SUCH a good Bernard and B-Man's office just being a mess of paper was low key inspired by their work, lol (Chapter 5: One of Roemer's Singing Elves. I LOVED the idea of B's office just being like a vault/hidey hole. LOVED it)

FAVE B-Man characterization, hands DOWN. I strive to write him that good (and I hope I do! :)

"You should know first hand how frozen sprites get!” followed by "What's THAT supposed to mean?!" Is 100% Jacqueline getting a wee bit defensive on her Mom's behalf (and maybe a bit of Jack's but she's just going to ignore THAT feeling)

But B-Man is very, very right--usually post-hardening a heart, sprites rely on one emotion to get them through things so. Y'know. What'll it be for Jacqueline? ;)

And of COURSE he can see right through the illusion after he's done lamenting lol. He's an ELF. I bet they can see through all sorts of illusions!

“Yeah, I’ll say! I think I may be having a heart attack.” “Do you smell burnt toast?” “No, just betrayal.” “There’s no need to be so dramatic.”

^This interaction is my favourite in this scene, 100%. Bernard deserves to be a lil overdramatic! As a TREAT!

VESUVIUS/POMPEII! This is a fun bit of CS lore. Originally it was that Blaise and Jack were responsible for Vesuvius erupting and destroying Pompeii and Herculaneum, but that has since changed! They don’t talk about it much, only Winter really knows what happened, but take a tl;dr:

FT tells Blaise to go see Jack in Pompeii bc something bad is about to happen, doesn't specify what. Blaise, of course, assumes the worst, as you are wont to do when it's Jack. Takes the day, gets fitted by the tailors, off to Pompeii where he finds Jack who has built a nice little life for himself. He's got lots of friends and is getting involved with local politics, and Blaise is like "is this why FT told me to get over here? Does a bad thing happen if Jack wins? Everything seems fine here" and then BOOM. TREMORS. Jack informs him the mountain may be a volcano but nobody's bothered to check and he sure as shit won't. Blaise checks. Jack follows. Volcano day happens. Blaise saves Jack's life. But they can't save anyone else :(

It's ANGSTY! Can't wait to write it one day! I've already done research for it and everything!

So YEAH that's Pompeii in CS context. And yes, Jack did keep a bust!

"This doesn't feel right" says Bernard. "I should've listened" narrates Jacqueline. "my GOD I love foreshadowing" says safyresky as she types this up…

I think I'll need to make the line " I got up, standing tall and proud in my fluffy socks" a scrimbly. I just doodled it while writing this out and the sketch SENT ME. My god.

Scene 2: Bernard Hams it UP

Aka, the scene in which Dani realizes how ding dang crafty she has made Jack. WHOOPS

Exploring his POV has been fun, especially with the edits I've been making while crossposting, where it's his perspective being told to us by Jacqueline as he recounts to her in the present? If that makes sense

ANYWAY, making the distinctions and adding the little Jacqueline interruptions (see: the line about dwarfs) has been a LOT of fun

As much fun as Bernard had HAMMING IT UP in this scene when he delivered the frozen Jacqueline news to Jack >:3

Love me a Jack moment of clarity! Love having him look through the villain fog for a second like "wait is this…wrong? Fucked up?' only for the fog to be like SHUSH! NO! IT'S FINE! And regularly scheduled villainy is back in play!

Bernard asking why was interesting, because I was also wondering why Jack wanted more deets. And it's a combo of two things: 1) the obvious is she frozen? Ou. Maybe…new ally, perhaps? To get my little theme park business off the ground? And 2) oh shit I froze my bb sister :(

(in villain fog voice) YES NEW ALLY! PAY NO ATTENTION TO THE GUILT UNDER THE ICE!

"And something about that terrified him" man, these blorbos are getting the shadowed fore'd out of them and it is just not hitting, CRAZY!

Scene 3: Jack's a crafty one

That's it that's the BTS for this bit. He's CRAFTY

And YES, knew that it was fake originally but needs want, as we see in the next scene--he needs Jacqueline close by to make sure she doesn't SNITCH (as well as access to her repertoire), and she needs to keep tabs on him, for the GREATER GOOD (as well as for purposes of trying to find a way to prove to everyone that she's right and fix the timeline)

And it only hit me HERE. IN THIS SCENE. THAT HE KNEW THE ENTIRE TIME AND WAS ONE STEP AHEAD OF EVEN ME!

Frostmas is exhausting

Scene 4: Cold Front Face Off at the Dome

Jacqueline channels Winter bc that's all she knows for a frozen sprite that isn't Jack, and felt it'd give best results

She's not wrong but also is not right--frozen hearts are personalized, after all. She wouldn't be sad nor filled with avarice; she'd simply be FULL OF RAGE (spoiler alert, I GUESS)

Fun fact about the Frozen reference: it came out around the time I was working on Crystal Springs for the very first time! It informed a lot of the scenes. In fact, Cold Front reunion had Jacqueline literally quoting Elsa's mantra! Not anymore--I fixed that this year--but thought the throwback here would be funny. DON’T EXPLODE. DON'T EXPLODE. RARGH. DON'T EXPLODE. DON'T EXPLODE--and so on

(The Summer Sprite blood is STRONG in this one)

Look, we all know Santa Jack was certainly…a look. A choice, if you will. Jacqueline's just SAYING what we're all THINKING

Not Jack trying to catch up Jacqueline by egging her on. And then going GOTCHYA. It's so OBVIOUS he's not buying it, it's so CUTE how Jacqueline thinks it works

(maybe it does work a little TOO well given the events of Year 10)

Translator's note: coconut frosts is magical censoring for coconut fucks.

Y'know. These fuckers:

Scene 5: Well played to well played

Was well played on MY PART! One of my FAVOURITE transitions, I LOVE showing similarities between Jack and Jacqueline, ESPECIALLY in an angsty context like this! Something, something, BECOMING WHAT YOU FEAR MOST/DOING WHAT YOU FEAR MOST TO THOSE YOU LOVE~!

This had major editing done. Like, once I knew Jack saw through the farce, I couldn't have any of the old 'he bought it' drivel. Jacqueline, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry you think you got away with this and that he actually knew the entire time 😬

He just needs to make sure he knows why she did it, which is really Jack for 'making sure she's not on to me re: resort thing yet'

Scene 6: YET ANOTHER NEW BOP TO THE RECOUNTING!

I thought Y4 would be the last one, but Y5 surprised me

This one was fun. Thanks to the people who voted in the poll so I could figure out where they were, lmao

Hit you with the COLD FRONT feels and then a banger of a Jack line RIGHT AFTER

Seriously, I am really loving these little retelling segues. I just hope they don't make the blast to the present in Y9 less jarring!

Scene 7: cookies and cocoa

Crystal Springs has a time zone! I believe it's -8:30 hours? I'll have to double check, I know I wrote it down somewhere and I'm pretty sure it's a crystal springs fact post too 🤔

I checked! It's -8:30 GMT :)

"I'm not doing a sport!" She actually IS doing a sport. Bother-your-brother-on-purpose-athon, specifically

"It was for the greater good, I told myself. I was a big, frosty liar" FACT! More foreshadowing at play here, huehuehue >:3

"It’s like wading through molasses" THE STRENGTH I EXERTED TO NOT PUT A BIT IN HERE ABOUT THE BOSTON MOLASSES DISASTER IN 1919 IS ACTUALLY ASTOUNDING.

Scene 7.5: B-Man's…house?

So, sometimes, when I write, I do say the thing I want to write out loud and that's how we get organic moments like "He was all ‘what’s all this then’ and I was like ‘this is who I am now!’ and he was all ‘oh cool let’s make a deal’ and ‘bleh all is forgiven’"

Jacqueline is just having a TIME

I think I have seen in most fics Bernard always being in the Workshop, but I picture him having a nice lil tidy house just outside of the main hub of the shop! For some odd reason, despite thinking it is a bungalow, in my head I picture TWO sets of stairs up. What the fuck is up with THAT

But anyway, that's why I have Jacquie tease B about his house--when does he ever use it? 🤭🤭

Translators note: "snow queen PLEASE" is magic censoring for bitch PLEASE

Frostmas only gets swears when Jacqueline is thinking, not when she is speaking--UNLESS she is out and about in the world, so if she says a swear she is NOT in Crystal Springs! Fun fact for you all tonight :)

Scene 8: Jacqueline's discovery

I originally wrote it so short and jumpy because I thought the chapter was getting too long at 7k words

TOO LONG. CAN YOU IMAGINE?

I added a whole 5k words. And that was AFTER getting rid of some lore drop! AH!

I think though that I like it like this now! I don’t have the patience to go month by month to see how Jacqueline has been irritating Jack, and the quick, punchy summaries make the conclusion one HELL OF A PUNCH

Okay this is the last scene and I'm OVER this and said the funny things I wanted to say so I am CALLING IT HERE. ENJOY Y5 BTS AND ENJOY THE 2024 EDITION OF YEAR 5, WHICH WILL BE FORTHCOMING 💖💖

[sincerelyella]

WIP Wednesday

Welp, it’s a WIP Wednesday that nobody asked me for lol It’s been a while since I’ve done one of these 🤷🏽‍♀️ and I don’t really have an updated taglist anymore so I’ll just tag the besties.

Warnings: gun violence; adult language

From the little mini series She Ain’t Me

Part 3

“Liam,” Ella’s voice carried in the wind and Liam turned towards the beautiful sound. “Liam, don’t let them hurt me.”

“I won’t, I swear, love,” Liam’s eyes were stinging as he reached for her. “Come here, I’ll keep you safe.”

Ella only smiled as her figure faded. “Don’t let them hurt me.”

Liam woke up startled, his pillow drenched with sweat. “Ella?!”

“Hey, Liam, it’s fine. We’re in a safe house,” Drake called out from the other sofa in the living room.

“I need to find her,” Liam moved to stand from the sectional. “Where is Liv and Maxwell?”

“Liv is in the bedroom, Max is with Savannah and Bertrand.”

“Have you heard anything?” Drake shook his head. “Does anyone have information about who took my fiancé?!” Liam roared as he fished out his phone from his pocket and dialed a number.

As Liam spoke on the phone, Drake ran his hands through his already disheveled hair. He hadn’t slept at all, how could he? He snuck a glance at his best friend in the corner of the room, he was also running his hands through his hair, fisting it out of frustration.

“I don’t give a fuck about me, Bastien! I want her found!” Liam hung up and hurled the phone onto the couch.

*

Broken Pieces

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do, Ella!” The gun in his hand slightly trembled as he moved it from her to Drake. “Is this your new man?” Jay’s eyes narrowed, his mouth curled into a devilish smirk. “He looks like a piece of shit to me.”

Drake clenched his jaw in anger. He knew if he antagonized this psychopath it wouldn’t do him or Ella any good. His first priority was getting her away from that gun. He lifted his hands in the air and attempted to make peace. “She and I are just friends, nothing more-”

“Bullshit!” Jay shifted his arm and fired a single bullet into the wall behind Drake. “No. More. Lies.”

“Jay,” Ella’s soft voice pierced through the crackle in the air. “Please listen to what I’m saying. Drake and I are just friends.”

As Ella continued to try to dissuade Jay from his tirade, Drake slowly reached into his pocket where his phone was. There was a weird emergency trigger button that Maxwell had told him about, and he thought it was the stupidest thing … until all this happened. He pressed the volume up and power button together three times and his phone began to call 911. Drake thanked God his phone was on silent, but he could feel the vibrations from the operator picking up the other line.

*

Tagging the besties (sorry y’all are just stuck with me) @ao719 @burnsoslow @sfb123 @alyssalauren @charlotteg234 @deb-1106 @foreverethereal123 @cordonia-gothqueen @kingliam2019 @ofpixelsandscribbles @hopefully-sky @aestheticartsx @neotericthemis

[clericofshadows]

7 snippets, 7 mutuals

got tagged by @rotschopf-thedrow :D ty!

tagging anyone who sees this and wants to participate!

I have a few misc WIPs I'm working on :)

icy nights, icy lights - Nyx/Kaidan, Noveria

Kaidan traced the lines of black ink on Nyx's arms, wondering what inspired the art. Wispy lines reminiscent of magic–or biotics even–were painted on the muscled arms, weaving together with the long since faded scars of war that also made their home on his skin.  Perhaps they were a sign of his biotics, a way of showing them off without being able to do it himself.  What would they feel like, alongside his, joining as one, combining mnemonics and dark energy to control the battlefield?  Or will he ever know them beyond secret moments of pleasure, flashes of blue held back by years of control and a custom amp and implant designed to keep him safe? Kaidan hated that he didn't know the answer.  A dark part of him, the jealous part that came about after learning about Nyx's history with Hackett couldn't help but fill his veins with cold ice. Hackett may not be a biotic, but he was probably more acquainted with Nyx's biotics than Kaidan will ever be. 

2. face your own enemy - Regis/Kaidan/Zaeed, continuation of my Citadel DLC write-up

Regis wasn’t impressed. “I don’t give a fuck who you claim to be. I’m Admiral goddamn Shepard, not you. You can be your own person!” He sneered, an ugly look that marred his face, twisting his features. “You’re the prize I want. It’s time I had my turn.” Kaidan stepped forward. “And you want to kill us so no one remembers Admiral Shepard.” “Ah, so you aren’t just a pretty-faced idiot,” he taunted. Zaeed stepped forward behind him, getting closer to Kaidan. The clone pointed at his husband. “And it looks like someone needs to put down your guard dog. I don’t like it when they bite. In any case, a personality change caused by the traumatic death of his little cult? Easily explained.” “It will never work,” Ashley said, raising her voice. “Too many people know Regis. You’re just setting yourself up for failure.” “Really? How unlikely it is that he’s surrounded by people he could have so easily killed. All three of you were so close to dying by fire and brimstone, and yet you continue to follow him.” His gaze landed on Ashley. “And you continue to fuck him.” He leered at his husbands. “He made such a terrible mistake in keeping all of you alive. Should’ve left you two to burn on Virmire. And let him burn in the flames of his own mistakes.”

3. LOTSB - Regis/Kaidan/Zaeed, my LOTSB write up.

“You… died in that armor,” Vasir stated, echoing his earlier words.  “How the hell did she get it?” “You tell me, Vasir,” Regis spat, dropping the remnants of his scarf on the ground.  “Take whatever you need, Wren, for your dossier.  I need some fucking air.” There wasn’t exactly a private place to go, so he walked over to the balcony next to the bullet holes.  Zaeed joined him, leaning against the barrier.   Regis moved closer, the shoulders of their armor touching.  “Zaeed, I am going to be the worst goddamn hypocrite right now.” He shrugged.  “Don’t feel like you have to apologize for goddamn Zorya again.  None of us expected to see that.  What a fucking–” he shook his head.  “Don’t even have the goddamn words to say how angry I am on your behalf.” “She has to have my dog tags.  My ring.  God, she tore that off of my corpse!  Cerberus didn’t have the full armor…” Regis swallowed down bile.  “I felt violated before, but this?” He let out a shuddering breath.  “This is unforgivable.”

4. wanna get caught? - Kaidan/Zaeed, PWP exhibitionism and sick!Regis who is tired of their mothering and wants them out of the house.

Zaeed pulled him into a familiar alleyway not far from their apartment, quiet, dark, free of foot traffic. “You goddamn tease,” he growled, pushing him up against the wall, dimly lit by the neon lights of the strip just outside the entryway. “Is this why you wanted me out of the damn house?” Kaidan only laughed, tangling a hand in his hair as he started kissing at his neck, leaving biting, stinging little marks. He got Zaeed exactly where he wanted him. Riled up, horny, and desperate. His favorite Zaeed. A little teasing sitting side by side in a booth was just enough. A hand on a thigh. Leaning on his shoulder and teasing him with a kiss that turns into a nibble. A trip to the bathroom to prep himself with a plug, knowing Zaeed recognized the slight change in his gait. Another reason why Kaidan enjoyed going on dates with only Zaeed. He indulged him and his kinks oh so well, both loving the thrill of being in public. Almost out of sight. Almost out of mind. One stray look is all it takes for them to be caught.

5. nothing will shine as bright - Kaidan/Zaeed, post ME2 prologue, Zaeed meets the Alenkos (i've been working on this for ages rip)

He found himself halfway over to the barn where he and Regis kept their motorcycles. He thought back to the damn helmets Zaeed had made for them, not even knowing about their hobby but wanting them to share in his. Yet another thing that had in common. Yet another thing that would’ve made their relationship great. Footsteps crunched the leaves behind him, and he whirled around to see Zaeed, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. “Wasn’t about to leave you alone.” “Leaving me alone probably would’ve made them judge you even more,” he sighed, leaning against the wall of the barn. “I’m sorry.” “I wouldn’t make them the damn bad guys yet,” he said softly. “Just worried about their son who lost the love of his life and is shacking up with a guy damn near twice his age.” “Well, I’ll give them more to talk about.” Kaidan unlatched the door of the barn and headed inside. “Let’s go for a fucking ride.”

6. the SR-1 - Part of my Subject Zero!Kaidan series, primarily Regis/Zaeed.

It had been two fucking months.  Two months without hearing anything.  Sure, they’ve gone long stretches of time without talking to each other.  Normal in their line of work.  Not always able to send a quick message, especially with Regis’s N missions that typically required radio silence. But Kaidan’s mission was recon.  Typical UNC bullshit.  And a bit of a training venture for some new biotic recruits, as Kaidan had cemented himself into being an instructor like Regis if a need arose for it. It shouldn’t have been anything to worry about.   It never should have ended like it did. A whole squad, gone.  No sign of struggle.  No sign of battle.  As if they were never there. Nothing to give any sort of hope.   Two months since their last communication, well-wishes and ribbing about trainees and so much love.  And nothing after.   No investigation turned up anything useful.  Everyone lost hope day by day.  But Regis never did.  Zaeed never did, vowing to use what he could to look into it himself.   The Normandy was his only chance.

7. a beginning - Nyx/Kaidan, the aftermath of their one-night stand that turned into more.

Kaidan wasn’t quite sure what to think about the man lying in the bed a couple of feet away from the bathroom, watching him with those deep purple eyes that said a lot about him.  Gene modded, clearly, with a deep hue that contrasted his rough exterior.  He had to have been at least in his fifties, if not more, the skin marked by both war and natural aging. But one thing’s for sure, Nyx knew how to charm a man, even one that wasn’t normally for one night stands. “Doing okay in there?” he asked, making no move to cover himself up, turning towards him with a grin. “Just thinking,” Kaidan replied, dampening a washcloth with warm water, testing it with his hand before wringing it out.  “Dangerous,” he teased, running his hand down his chest, toying with those pierced nipples–and what a fucking surprise that was.  “Penny for your thoughts?” He was thinking about a lot, actually.  About how he thought he saw a flash of light blue rimmed around his eyes while he fucked deep into Nyx, pressing his weight into him, keeping a steady gaze on him, watching for any reaction that wasn't complete pleasure.  Biotics from a man far too old to be part of the first gen, much less any other stable gen.  Far too pure to be a trick of the light.  But maybe it was.

[storiesbyrhi]

ao3 tag game

rules: post the first lines of your 10 most recently published AO3 stories. if you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics.

tagged by: @myosotisa and @rindecision - who both have incredibly diverse and strong opening lines.

Eddie Munson x Reader

Bones and All

The others were all so normal.

Angel of the First Degree

Eddie rounded the corner, hands in his pocket already pulling out his pack of cigarettes. He’d moved too swiftly, unable to stop and slink backwards without being seen. “Sorry,” he said, hands up defensively. “Didn’t know it was, ah, occupied. I’ll-” Eddie was about to say ‘go,’ when he saw the look on your face. Your skin was blotchy, tears streaming down your cheeks. Bloodshot eyes, mouth open, gasping for air. He knew a panic attack when he saw one, even if he didn’t know they were a thing with a name. “Are you okay?” Eddie asked.

Siouxie and the Soulmates

There was something really… freaky… about the newest resident of Forest Hills Trailer Park. Eddie Munson was absolutely convinced she was a wizard, witch, whatever. He had no tangible proof. But the circumstantial evidence, your honour, was overwhelming.

Vintage Reeboks

“Somebody’s gotta go down there and check this thing out. Unless one of you three can top being the Hawkins High Swim Co-Captain and a certified lifeguard for three years, then it’s gotta be me. No complaints. Alright?” Steve said, ignoring the stress in Nancy’s voice. “Hey, I’m not complaining,” Eddie chimed in. “I do not want to go down there.”

Our Patron Saint of the Arts

The patch looked new, but it had been trampled on just a little in the hallways of Hawkins High. It was clear who it belonged to, but you were unsure how to return it to him. He was a bit preoccupied.

Serious Moonlight Tour

It was as good as you were going to get in a place like Hawkins. The Hideout wasn’t exactly Madison Square Garden; hell, it wasn’t even really a venue. It was a grimy bar that sometimes let bands play from the corner of the room. There was no stage. There were no tickets. There was barely an audience, save for about five drunks that sat unaware that the town’s freaks and geeks were setting up equipment around them.

Bucky Barnes x Reader (completed fics only, skipping over abandoned series)

A Toast to Whisky

There were a lot of things in the dusty, old bar that made the man's jaw clench in annoyance, distaste, or anger. You were compiling a list of these things, doing your best to minimise their occurrences. There was one you couldn't avoid though, and it was almost amusing that it bothered him at all. Each time someone ordered a drink - beer, cocktail, shot, whatever - a clean glass was given. The man didn't like it. Was it not like that in his time?

Gloxinia

For any of The Avengers to be skeptical of witchcraft seemed, to be perfectly frank, really fucking stupid. Each of their lives had been wrapped up in magic and mystery, so to have them hold back smirks and send mocking glances across the table at each other was not exactly what you had expected.

Foxhole

February 1944 Chunks of concrete rained down on the village, reducing buildings to rubble and people to ghosts. Steve and Bucky ran through the square, trying for a misguided attempt at heroism. They weren’t saving anyone, only drawing more enemy fire to a civilian hotspot. “We gotta take cover!” Bucky yelled, ducking under Steve’s shield. Steve nodded, his heightened senses doing him no good under the hailstorm of bullets and bricks. Later, Steve would say it was by chance. You, by chance, saw them out the window and opened the door, whistling in their direction. You, by chance, were in the right place and at the right time.

Blood

Bucky Barnes doesn’t believe in ghosts. In this day and age, it’s more likely that a ghost is just a loved one brought back to life. Reanimated to fight on the wrong side, kind of thing. Or maybe the ghost is a clone. A hologram. A science experiment gone wrong. If you are lucky, the ghost could simply be a hallucinatory symptom of brain disease. But, no matter what, there is always a scientific explanation. Bucky Barnes doesn’t believe in ghosts because the existence of them implies the existence of an afterlife, some sort of potential of God. Of meaning and purpose. If he thinks about that too much, he unravels. So, he chooses to not think about it. Bucky Barnes just does not believe in ghosts, so when he sees you standing behind him in the bathroom mirror, he runs straight to Steve.

No pressure tagging: @ghost-proofbaby @br0ck-eddie @jo-harrington @justmeinadaze @upsidedownwithsteve @ethereal27cereal @dr-aculaaa