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Chomp

Bonus:

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👏👏👏

Finished my paper at 12:13 am, please clap

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I realize I got to show Simon's boy-2-man transformation, but not Johnny's, so here you go~

My Baby boy has grown into such a fine GENTLEMAN! Not so WEE anymore, right??? He will always be that little 'troublemaker' to me, L.O.L., but now he is out there SERVING HIS COUNTRY. God bless my Johnny AND the Troops. <333333 XOXO

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Reminder I am vehemently AI intolerant. I do not support Character.Ai, I do not support using AI for fic writing. I do not support AI art. I do not support AI in any creative sense. AI is created from stolen works. AI is plagiarism. Using it promotes creative theft. If I catch you anywhere near my blog with it you will be blocked.

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Simon sets you on your feet again, his voice husky with emotion.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me, sweetheart?"

You shake your head as you pull him down to kiss you, whispering against his lips.

"No...tell me."

He tucks his fingertips under your left breast, lifting the swell of it it just so, his thumb sweeping over the nipple.  A smile flirts at the corners of his lips as he watches both nipples harden under the mere carress of one.

"You make me feel emotions I thought I left behind in my youth.  Hope, for one.  Happiness, for another.

"I'm scared, for once.  Didn't care about losing anything...nothing...not even my life.  Then you came along.

"I feel weak when you touch me, compelled, in thrall.  I feel strong when I'm inside you.  I feel your heartbeat when I fuck you, and it haunts me and drives me like a fucking drug.

"If anything happened to you--so help the world--I will burn everything in your fucking memory."

Leaning in, you kiss the tears from his cheeks, their salty taste both thrilling and alarming in the same breath.

He crushes you to his chest as he kisses your mouth the way he claims your body every night--as though this could be the last time.

MASTERLIST

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I Really missed drawing Roach using BSL

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Yall want a body cast for Captain MacTavish? You want to know who I think has his exact body type?

Drew McIntyre. The wrestler.

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Who could he blush for 🤔

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Houndsman ▪︎

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nap with dad.

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my god you're fucked: the lady at the help desk just went to ask someone else for help with your issue and everyone's got a confused look on

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Drabble idea

Keegan wanting to know more about reader but doesn't know how to do small talk so asks really awkward questions at the most random times

-🦴

wait i actually love this so much??? more utc!!

Instance One of Many:

“Why are you cleaning your rifle like that?” Keegan’s voice spooks you from daydreaming. The rag looped through a rod sits in your hands limply.

“Like what?” He scoffs at your question, his hands motioning to the 6.8 SPC parts littered on your bed. It was your prize possession, and watching you take it apart and put it back together entranced him every time.

He knew where every single piece went, memorizing where bolts clicked and how springs locked. But, hearing you explain yourself over again for his sake brought a tightness to his stomach. “Like this is your first time cleaning a gun.”

You smile. God, it was a dazzling smile. Fanged teeth and all. “This isn’t my first time, Russ, we both know this.” He shakes his head softly, motioning for you to hand him the cleaning rod.

“Let me show you how to clean it properly.”

Instance Two of Many:

You’re focused in on a target, breathing held until that moment just before it goes fuzzy. Crosshairs centered right where they need to be, and he speaks again.

“How do you feel about—”

“Zip.” You hiss at him, effectively shutting him up for once. Your eyes zero in on the target again, gently squeezing the trigger and breathing out when your suppressor releases a crack. Keegan didn’t even flinch at the breaking of the sound barrier.

He turned on his rangefinder, placing his hand on the small of your back. “There it is, God, you’re so good at this.” The heat of his palm settles deeply within your skin, pushing through layers of thermals and tac-gear.

Keegan watches your shoulders drop in relief, “What was your question?” A smile pulls at his lips when you poke at his thigh. He drops the rangefinder around his neck and waves your head forward.

“Another time, let’s head back.”

Instance Three of Many:

“Back to what I was saying last week!” His forearm blocks your punch, his body weight standing strong against you. “What do you feel about turducken?” The question completely throws you off-guard.

He swiftly pins you to the mats, his thighs trembling from hours of hand-to-hand combat training. You could feel his muscles shake, heat rolling off his body.

Everything beginning to feel fuzzy the longer he has you trapped on the worn down flooring. “I don’t.. what? Keegan I’ve never had a fucking- what’d you call it?”

He grins brazenly, “Turducken, get it right, Uno.”

“..Right, a turducken.” He nods when you repeat it back to him. “It’s a food right?” Keegan nods again. “Then I don’t like it, that’s sounds like a horrible thing. A disgusting combination of something.”

“It’s meat, turkey, duck, and chicken. Three different meats in one dish.” He pauses for dramatic effect. “Turducken.”

Your brain stops for a moment, “What.”

Instance Where He Finally said I Love You:

Rusty hinges wake Keegan up from what little sleep he planned on getting. Your cot across from him was empty, leading to the idea that it was you who left through the door. Cold stone floor seeped through his wool socks and into the soles of his feet.

His eyes instantly catching onto your silhouette. “What are you doing up this late?” It’s a stupid question, there’s no other reason as to why someone would be up this late. You couldn’t—

“-sleep, I couldn’t sleep.” He nods solemnly, opening his mouth to ask you another question. His palms sweating and his head throbbing.

“Can I ask you something, Uno?” You turn towards him, giving him that stupidly wonderful smile.

“I’m not Uno right now, we both know that Russ.” Keegan nods, repeating his question but tacking on your name instead.

“Will you be mine?” That stupid smile widens even more. He’s never felt better about his inability to keep thoughts in his brain.

tags 🏷️

@glossysoap @lordlydragon @violet-phantoms @ivymarquis @ghastlybirdie @warenai @quietlyignoringyou

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Saber

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drabble // beach day with the one and only soap mactavish.

"johnny, can't you be quiet for a moment?" you ask, putting dots of sunscreen on your boyfriend's back. you've tried to reason with him multiple times about the importance of being protected against solar radiation, but does he care? not in the slightest.

"cannae ye do it quicker?" he retorts, feet anxiously tapping the sand as you lather the cream on his shoulders.

you roll your eyes, finishing distributing the remaining white spots of the product and moving to his front. "look up for me," your index tilts his chin upwards, narrowed eyes meeting his eager blue ones, "just a second, love," you say, fingers gently spreading the sunblock on his forehead, nose, cheeks and neck.

he squeezes your waist repeatedly, a childish attempt to urge you to end his torture. with a peck on his lips, you put him out of his misery, "all done," and the man leaps out of his seat, wasting no time to dig in the sand.

"gonnae build a castle for mah princess."

this appeared to me in a tiktok dream

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Overseas 🇺🇸

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fresh blood 👶