#Blue Time Force Ranger

[wouldyourfavepaychildsupport]

[autthemanfghter]

Red Time Force Ranger

Blue Time Force Ranger

Green Time Force Ranger

Yellow Time Force Ranger

Pink Time Force Ranger

Quantum Ranger

[thena0315]

[regaliasonata]

What your Favorite Blue Ranger says about you?

Billy: You hate seafood.

Rocky: Your goofy ass is underrated.

Justin: Your daddy don't love you, you have a found family.

TJ: You're laid back and chill as hell.

Kai: You're constantly stressed.

Chad: You're carefree.

Lucas: You love technology or have an obsession with NASCARR

Max: You're short.

Tori: You're cool and love life

Blake: You're fashionable.

Ethan: Smartest person in your town and have great ambitions.

Sky: Gay ass bitch with family issues

Madison: You're quiet and have a queer family member.

Dax: You're either never sad or was dropped on the head as a baby.

Theo: You strangle your siblings during arguments.

Flynn: You're hot and got maximum aura.

Kevin: Stop fawning over that man, YOU'RE BETTER THAN THAT.

Noah: A little confused with most things.

Koda: You don’t care about the negatives and are the main character.

Preston: You’re grew up with Hunger Games, Harry Potter or Percy Jackson.

Ravi: You’ve got mommy issues.

Ollie: You hate group projects.

Evil Ollie: Group projects made you gay out of spite and you got daddy issues.

[skyhawkstragedy]

this is gonna get me killed or y’all are gonna roll your eyes but I think if there’s anything Team Americory has to compare themselves to it’s Power Rangers Time Force

America: Wes - The figurehead. The mascot. Thinks she knows what she’s doing but really doesn’t. Ends up as a fan favorite.

Cory: Jen - The commander. Ultimately rallies the troops. Has a good head on his shoulders but can be stubborn and set on his ways. Probably has fallen for someone like America before.

Matt: Lucas - Chauvinistic asshole with a secret heart of gold and a love for someone elsewhere. Dreams of going fast.

Jag: Trip - There for ✨the vibes✨. Usually the funny guy but holds his own. Always got a thinking cap on.

Bowie Jane: Katie - Doesn’t know her own strength or has the potential to do a lot more than she is.

Meme: Eric - America’s foil. Equal in every way except for how they approach things. While America operates on ideals, Meme assesses facts. America tries to do more than what she needs, while Meme sees what’s in front of her and acts accordingly. They’re close but have the potential to be closer; their priorities just clash too much for it to work. The fans love her as well.

[super-heroinecomparisons]

Black Condor from Choujin Sentai Jetman (1991).

Time Green from Mirai Sentai Timeranger (2000). / Green ranger from Power Rangers Time Force (2001). (Male character played by a woman.)

Dyna Blue from Kagaku Sentai Dynaman (1983).

[one-half-guy]

"Time For Lightspeed"

If you meant to merge the two teams' roll calls, Sabam, I think it would make more sense "Time For Rescue" or "Lightspeed Time Force"

[stellasguardianstuff]

Willa: My boyfriend is too tall. How do I kiss him?

Hunter: Punch him in the gut, and kiss him when he doubles over.

Rae: Tackle him!

Zeke: NO TO ALL OF THESE! JUST ASK ME TO BEND OVER!

[thunder-robots]

RED & BLUE VECTORCYCLES

[n0tamused]

'Please cannot fix'

Content: angst, character death, gn reader, possible grammar mistakes

Words: 1167

A/N: to that one person said I wouldn't do it - here you go. Suffer with me now.

Once mighty and flamboyant  Galaxy Ranger, now nothing but a desperate pile in the mud. The rain hails down onto him like acid, unrelenting as it bashes his back and makes him sink further into the ground. BootHill’s breath is heavy and ragged as he has long lost his voice, crying out to you to keep awake, to hold on until you’re both back at the base, he has already contacted a doctor through a built in radio - why didn’t you listen?

Leftover footprints had long since been washed away, eradicating the proof of his attempts at keeping you alive, as if he never tried.

You had pleaded with him to slow down, he was jostling you too much, doing too much, and you never saw him this panicked. His eyes could barely handle looking at the red gushing out of your wounds and onto the cold iron of his body. He didn’t listen, and kept going, his feet leaping and swallowing the ground under him with sloppy expertise, kicking up rocks and mud before it could stick to him. One of his hands mussed up your nape, patting the skin and pushing your head closer against him until he could feel your breath on his actual skin - on what little he had to feel with.  “Just a little more, sugar-” he’d say, turn after turn, thunder growling behind him. Moments feel like minutes, and he swears he can run faster, but he can’t -

“BootHill, stop-!” he froze, his eyes escaping whatever daze his mind spun him into, darting to look at your begging ones. Tears or rain, it made your nose red and your lips quivered with the weight of your words. “Let me go..”  You breathed it out, cupping his cheek and turning him to face you, forcing him to feel the fleeting warmth of your palm, it prevented him from running. However, he doesn’t stop moving, he consciously, simply cannot, and for once his artificial body agrees with his organic one; and neither listens to your wishes for him to stop carrying you. “I-I can’t- are you crazy?!” he blurts out sharply, but his face betrays the anger of his tone, his eyes, as wide as yours, show the man crazed with fear of losing something precious beyond life itself. 

“No, no, move yer hands away, I can’t see” he grumbles with a tangible tension in his jaw, shaking his head, flicking raindrops from the tips of his hair. 

“Please..BootHill..I don’t want this sight to be my last-! Please, put me down” you argued, lungs feeling heavy and full of holes that let the rain in. They burned for life, for air, they sought to be engulfed in warmth of the space ship once more, to breathe in the metallic scent that fill the room as BootHill cleaned his iron from the rain. Just once more. But you knew such a future was only a dream behind your heavy lidded eyes that were harder to pry apart every blink.  “Please..just hold me..” you muttered with defeat in your tone, and perhaps it was that which stopped BootHill at long last, or the sight of the bridge that had been split and broken before him, with the raging wide river threatening to swallow the earth itself around it.

He slowly lowered himself to the ground, you in his lap, and his eyes bubbling up with what you could call tears. Translucent blue in color and greasy in texture, his tears fell for you. One metal and freezing hand goes on top of the biggest wound on your torso, pushing down to stop the bleeding. 

BootHill never felt more hopeless and useless than he did now. He tried and failed. And most heartbreaking of all, he didn’t protect you when he needed to. When he should have.

The rain fell harder after that. Your body absorbede the cold of it and grew heavier in his lap.

The wind howled over his head and went right through him too.

…..

Your face was the palest he had ever seen.

Your lips blue.

Eyes shut.

Hair slicked back with how many times he ran his fingers through it, keeping it from your face. Keeping you tidy.

You were limp and heavy, and you were still.. whole, as whole as you could be. He had cried all the tears he had within him, and he struggled to breathe for even longer. Feeling raw and more human than he did even before being turned into this walking machinery. 

You had held his face, and you apologized to him, and asked him to smile, you asked him to deliver you one more charming line - and he failed you in that too.

….

The silence was unbearable, and the cacophony even worse. Now, in the confined space of his ship, he cracked his voice raw open as he glared at the little hologram of the doctor that turned him into this walking tin can.

BootHill couldn’t stand the sound of his own voice that fluctuated higher with the flare of his anger, every sentence more distraught than the last. It got to the point the Doctor on the receiving end had gone silent as a grave, realizing the futility of trying to speak over BootHill. 

‘Bring them back’, he pleaded, hovering over the hologram, making himself feel greater, stronger, and more in control. 

‘If you could turn me into this with just ma head alone, you can help them as well!’ he argued, teeth grit together and showing off their points. Like a cornered dog he clawed and bit and held the last pieces of hope in his maw. ‘They’re whole, jus’ a few scratches-’ he added in haste, and the doctor began shaking his head.

‘Please, Doctor, you’ve gotta’ he stared at the flickering hologram, feeling something akin to acid rise in his throat, sick at the thought of denial. No, he wouldn’t give up on you. ‘Why not?! Because they’re not as loud as I am?! What is the reason?!’. He tried to argue and reason with the other man, and when he ran out of reasons he began to repeat the ones he already mentioned.

‘WHY NOT YOU IDIOT?!’ he shouted, now on his knees before the system table in front of him, the hologram now looking much larger than his own figure. His elbows still rested on the table and he felt like strangling the man in front of him through the hologram itself.

He could see the Doctor’s face fall, disappointed at best. And he heard him sigh. 

“BootHill. I can’t do it, and I won’t try it.”

The hologram flickered, and then went out, allowing the dark of the spaceship to swallow him whole. Trickles of oil began to seep through cracks in his metalwork, and more of his tears began to bubble up in his eyes. Like claws, his hands fell over his face, muffling a choked cry of anguish.

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

-Tags: @prettyliliy @nvuy @lofasofabread @teanypaws @molotto

(I just tagged everyone who showed interest when I talked about this idea, pls lemme know if you don't want the tag/want to be removed from the post <3)

[jocelynscrazyideas]

Just friends? | Matt Rempe x Reader

Pt. 2

Warnings: language, that’s it? NOT PROOF READ

Summary: we head to the Ny Rangers game, matt had gotten three penalties and the rangers lost. We head to our little friend days, i accidentally split the way i feel about Matt, he tells me his feelings.

A:N- FIRST REMPE BLURB‼️🚨I’m scared, this is so gonna flop bc he’s like the most hated rookie…

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

I’ve known Matt since we were in seventh grade. It’s been nine years of friendship. I’m excited to watch him play as a rookie in THE nhl.

“Are you ready?” Matt asks me, as if I’m the one who’s nervous. This whole time he’s been pacing back and forth, we play the Hurricanes tonight in the playoffs. I’m excited!

“No. I think I’ll just stay here in the hotel and watch you play from here.” I joke with him, he obviously isn’t in the mood to mess around.

I tie his tie and flatten his suit out, I mess with his hair a bit. “Matty?” Ally walks in.

“Hey y/n! Cars running, we’ll have to leave early, we need to grab gas. Unless you are going in early with matt?” Ally, one of Matt’s older sister.

“Oh hey? I didn’t know you were here.” Steph says as she walks in, checking in on my work. “Nice tie. Who tied it?” Steph asks Matt.

“Cool, cool.” Steph says as she looks at Matt’s eyes that trail into mine.

I’ve never seen Matt the way I’ve seen other boys, maybe it’s because I’ve grown up with him, I’ve seen him go through puberty, get girlfriends, and I’ve seen his room. Ally and Steph on the other hand… well they think Matt and I are literally meant to be.

“Cute.” Ally says as she grabs Steph and walk out.

“So we’ll see you y/n, at the seats?” Ally says as she walks down the hallway of Matt’s home. Matt pulls me to his mirror that is hung in his closet door.

“You look comfy.” He said and he rubs my shoulder, he looks down at me. For preference, I am 5”3, and he’s 6”7’. He’s significantly taller than me.

“You’ll do great.” I say and I grab my bag, my phone and apply lipgloss. He stares at me while I tie up my shoes. I’m wearing a blue tank top, and on top I have a leather jacket, I have a Rangers jersey imprinted on the back of the coat. I walk around with white air forces on my feet.

We walk to the car and we pull out of the driveway. We watch Matt’s older sister’s car get smaller as we turn a corner to head towards the rink.

“Radio on?” Matt asks me, I’m sure he’ll want to play our song.

“Sure.”

He throws his phone at me and gives me aux. “no. Play something fun.”

I play Martin & Gina by Polo G.

“No, play our song.”

So I do, I type into his Spotify search Shower by Becky G. “I love this song!” Matt says as he looks over to me. He keeps his eyes on mine.

“Matt!” I yell as he steps on his breaks. He almost ran a kid over. He let the kid cross the street and Matt wanted some coffee so we head to a Caribou.

“You wnat anything?” Matt asks me, and again he stares me down, I see him looking at me like I’m the great Mona Lisa. Or as if I’m the Eiffel Tower.

“No I’m good I’ll just pick up a Dr Pepper at the food court.” I reply. I look into Matt’s eyes, he has a light bruise that stained his under eye from previous fights. I’m sure he’s fired up for playoffs, I’m excited!

~

We get to the rink and he walks in the player enterance and I head for the other side of the building, making it to the front of the building. I enter in just as normal and get my pass out to enter in as family. I understand that I should’ve gone in with Matt, but it felt better to get in early instead of late like the other family do.

I head for our seats and make it to my spot that I always sit in. I can see all the fans walking to the glass, signs are up and pressed against the window. Rempe jerseys everywhere, and family’s sitting at seats waiting for the game to start.

Hype songs start, warmups are coming. I watch Matt walk on the ice. For some reason I felt this wierd park in my stomach. I got wayyy to excited to see him. I actually smiled so big that my cheeks hurt from staring at him.

~

After game

~

The rangers lost. Matt hasn’t walked out of the locker room, and I patiently wait. He was the last one out, the coaches even left before him. The janitors started to come in and clean up. I have to wait for Matt, he’s the one driving me home.

“Matt?” I said when he finally walked out. “What.” Matt says in the grumpiest tone. He didn’t walk out for post game interviews, so I assume that he would do it later.

“Are you okay?” I ask him, I thought I was being kind for asking. He left me on heard. He just took my hand and walked me to his car. He opened my door for me, and threw his hockey gear into the back of his car.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Matt finally answered.

Okay.

“Okay, let’s just go home alright?” I say canceling our plans that we were waiting for, for the last week.

“What!? No!” Matt whines before he backs out of his parking spot. “I wnat to go.” He said as he looks at me.

“Let’s spend time together. Come on. Please? I just had the worst game of my life and you’re just gonna make me feel worse?” He guilt trips me.

“Maybe.” I sarcastically answered as I throw his hands off my thigh. See, moments like this I believe his sister that maybe we could be something. NO! Matt is just a friend, he’s practically been in my life forever. Freinds for 9years and going on, and known eachother since we were 8 years old.

“I’m gonna shower, and you need to change.” Matt says when he pulls into his driveway. His sisters pull in behind us. “Matty!” Steph tells out for him.

“What.” He replied, he sounds the way he did before we left the rink.

“Um. Okay well me and Ally are going to the mall, and we’re going back to school. See you soon okay?” Steph says and she steps back into her car. That’s the last time I’ll see them, well ofcire we still have summer but they’re all the way at college and I’m just here in New York.

~

“Okay should I wear red, or green?” I ask Matt, I men’s his opinion matters, like a lot.

“Im wearing Blue, so you should wear that blue and white outfit you got a while ago.”

“That wasn’t an option.” I reply. I just do as he says and slide in my corset top dress and a value decal lace, the white silk sits on my curves.

“You’re so beautiful.” Matt says as he watches me walk out of the bathroom. My hair is curled, my makeup done and my legs are shaved, I also have the perfect amount of heel that raises my height.

Matt looks me up and down and grabs my hand. We drive down to a cove. We eat some pasta and we grab some dessert at this small shop downtown. “Don’t get anything in that dress!” Matt warns me, I’m eating like a pig.

He’s so sweet. I could talk to him for hours.

After our foodie phase we head to the coast. We drive about an hour just to get to a beach. It was so nice, we sat and stared at the stars, but it felt wrong. I know that we would be good as a couple but, what his sister say all the time teasing him makes me think he likes me. No.

He can’t.

We’re friends.

“How’s life been? Got a hot boyfriend I don’t know about? You just moved up here in New York so how you like?” Matt asks me, he turn his head and leans back onto his forearms. He’s watching me stare into the void. I’m scared to tell him.

No, we’re just friends.

“Nope. Men are stupid. Not you of course, your perfect- your like the only guy I would date!-or well yeah it’s nice up in New York, city is beautiful and the weather is my type.” I answer, I stuttered about all of my try feelings. Shit.

“Well l feeel the same way.” Matt says, I’m sure he heard my little cry of what the hell did I say.

“What.”

“I like you as well y/n. You didn’t notice?”

[musings-of-a-rose]

Camping Trip

Pairing: Will Miller x f!reader (nickname Autumn)

Word Count: 3400+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: Listen. I don’t know. I just saw the picture in the upper right of my moodboard and came up with this. Ok fine I wrote the first 3 paragraphs in May and the rest now. Will and I are complicated, ok? Shoutout to @mermaidxatxheart for reading and listening to my ramblings as always!

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Will Miller Masterlist

It had been a rough few months, no doubt about that. Somehow, I survived. Made it to the solo camping trip I had been thinking about for months. It's nothing I haven't done before. Even the trails and campsite are familiar. Still, it had been a few years and I was itching to get away from the city and all the noises it pounds into my head.

I head down the backroads, the pine trees growing thicker the further out I get from the city. At first I pass a lot of cars, mostly traveling into the city. But after a while, when the trees are so tall I can't see over them, so thick I can barely see through them, I'm the only car on the road.

I see the sign for the campsite and turn, heading down the dirt path to the small parking lot about a half mile in from the road. There are a couple of other jeeps and trucks here, one of them belonging to the park ranger who sits inside the small welcome center/general store. I head inside to use the bathroom, the last little "luxury" I give myself before spending a week away from everyone.

"Hi mis- Autumn! Haven't seen you for what...3 years?"

I smile at the man behind the counter, giving him a little wave. "Hey Jay! You're still working here? I thought you'd have retired by now." I grab a couple of bags of the beef jerky they have on sale. It's made by a local farmer and I can only get it here.

Jay chuckles. "Next year. Maybe."

"Don't push yourself too hard, Jay."

"Oh! Mary had her baby! Course she's 3 now."

"Oh really? Damn, 3 already?”

Jay looks at me pointedly. “Well that’s what you get for taking so long to come back and visit.”

Before I can answer, the bell on the entrance door jingles out and Jay glances over my shoulder. “Afternoon, sir! Can I help you with anything?”

“Just a trail map, thanks.” His voice is a little raspy, like he hadn’t used it for a while. I turn to point to the map stand but am momentarily frozen. 

This man is gorgeous.

Tall, short blonde hair, slightly longer up top. Military or ex military judging by the cut and the way he holds himself. But his eyes meet mine, slate blue and what was I saying? 

Jay pinches my arm. “Show him the maps, Autumn.”

I force a small chuckle to Jay, quickly pulling my arm from his pinching fingers and walk towards the blonde man and am hit with the scent of pine, leather, and old spice. Normally I would not be into the latter on a man but the way it mixes with his natural scent is going straight to my head. And other places.

“Here,” I somehow manage to walk past him and grab a map from the spinning holder, turning to hand it to him. The man takes it, his eyes twinkling before he gives me a quick wink.

“Thanks, darlin’.” His eyes quickly flick down my body, or maybe I’m imagining it? 

“You check the weather before coming, sir?”

His eyes are on mine still for another moment before he turns to address Jay. “Yeah I did. This isn’t my first time camping.”

Jay nods. “Military?”

The man chuckles. “Vet. Am I that obvious?”

Jay shrugs. “Not exactly. I just know people. Well, as long as you know what you’re in for. Shouldn’t be too bad but just make sure to stay warm. Not sure how long you’ll be here but if ever a blizzard alert comes up, you come right back here, ok? There’s a small cabin out back that’s open to campers 24/7.”

“Thanks.” The man takes his map, declining Jay’s offer of a bag. He glances back over at me. “See you later, darlin’.”

Fuck. Me. “See you!”

It takes me the usual couple of days to make it to my favorite spot, but I breathe a sigh of relief when I break through the trees, the breathtaking view of the mountains and lake spread out before me. It feels like coming home. 

I get to work setting up my camp, fire and tent good to go, my food hanging from a bag in a tree. I managed to find a place with a good fallen log, perfect for sitting on or against and close enough to the fire so I can keep warm. The wind blows through the nettles of the tall pines around me, the cool, misty breeze coating the exposed skin on my face. I take a deep breath in and out. I really missed being here. 

I do turn on my high powered radio to listen to the weather report twice a day, making sure nothing unexpected is coming. There’s something the weathermen are looking at, but they don’t think it’ll be anything. Still, the temps are sure to drop in a couple of days and there may be a bit of snow. I’m prepared for it, but it’s still good to know. 

A couple days later, I’m about a half mile from camp, walking along the trail near the lake. So far, I’ve seen a couple of deer and a ton of birds. I’m stopped, leaning against a tree trunk to take a quick break when I hear the sound of footsteps on the path ahead. I know I’m not the only one camping, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t instantly on alert. Another couple of seconds of hearing the sound and I know it’s human. From around the curve of the path emerges the man from Jay’s, his pack full and looking heavy. He sounds a little winded and had obviously been walking for a bit. I straighten myself and wave to him.

“Hey! Fancy seeing you here!”

The man glances at me and smiles, the same one from the shop. “Hey…Autumn?”

I nod. I tell him my real name. “But Jay’s been calling me Autumn since I first came to this trail.”

“Let me guess. It was during Autumn?”

I chuckle. “Jay is original.”

He comes closer, but stops several feet away, breathing heavier. “I’m Will.”

“Nice to meet you, Will.”

He nods to me. “Same.”

He still doesn’t move. “I don’t bite, you know.”

He cocks his head, confused, but then seems to piece it together. “Oh. Well, I didn’t want to freak you out by invading your space.”

I’m fairly positive if this man wanted to take me down, he could’ve done that, several feet away with a pack on or no. “Thank you. That’s…unexpected. And kind.”

“Don’t other people do that?”

I shake my head. “Not really.”

“Oh. Well they should.”

I shrug. “Maybe….but Will, you can come closer. It’s alright.”

He raises his eyebrows. “You sure?”

“Yeah, why?”

He remains rooted to the spot. “You don’t think I’ll take advantage of you?”

I snort. “I’m fairly positive you could’ve done that already, Mr. Military. Don’t threaten me with a good time.” What the fuck did I just say?

I swear I see the tips of his ears turn pink as he chuckles, shifting his weight nervously from foot to foot. “A good time it would be.”

He comes closer and I gesture towards my bag which is resting against a log. He takes his own off and sets it beside mine, shrugging and stretching his shoulders a bit. “I really should’ve taken a break before now. Gettin’ old sucks.”

I chuckle, my eyes roaming down his arms, the flannel on his shirt hugging his biceps in all the right ways. 

“You look in great shape to me.” 

His eyes meet mine and we stare at each other for several moments before I blink, shaking my head a little to rid myself of the not at all PG thoughts I was having.

“So…are you trying to make it back to that cabin before the weather moves in?”

Will clears his throat, giving his own head a little shake before crossing his arms across his broad chest. “That was the plan.”

“Have you listened to the weather station today?”

He furrows his brows and I melt. “No, why?”

“The uh..storm? Is moving a little faster than they thought. No way you’ll make it back to Jay’s cabin before it starts to pick up.”

“Shit.” Will sighs, bringing his fingers up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I really thought I’d be able to make it but my leg was acting up.” 

I can tell he’s not used to this, needing breaks. He seems like the kind of guy that just pushes through the pain. Until it pushes back.

“Come on. You can stay with me.” I push back from the tree and lean down to get my pack, swinging it up on my back. When I look back up at Will, he’s staring at me, eyes wide.

“What?”

“Did you just invite me to your camp?”

I adjust the straps on my shoulders. “Yeah. Let’s get going so that way we aren’t stuck.”

“You trust me?”

I click the last strap into place across my chest before I look at him. “I thought we established that I do.”

He studies me for a long moment, his eyes moving between mine and I swear he glances down at my lips. “You sure you have the space?”

I shrug. “May be a little bit of a squeeze but temps are dropping anyway. We can always find a way to get warm.” What did I just say?

A small smirk spreads across his beautiful face. “I’m sure we can, darlin’.” He leans down and grabs his own pack, situating it on his back before he gestures to me. “Lead the way.”

Talking to Will is easy, comforting almost. He tells me about his time in the army, Delta Force, and his brothers, including his real life brother Benny. A golden retriever of a man if I ever heard of one. He asks me questions about my life and listens intently, actually interested in what I have to say. Before I know it, we’re back at my camp. Will stops for a moment, staring out over the lake at the mountain behind it and whistles. “You found a hell of a view.”

“Thanks. It took me a couple years to find but now it’s like home.”

Will helps me start a fire and get food cooking, laughter and conversation flows just as easily as before and I find myself gravitating towards him, physically. But he also seems to be scooting closer and closer until our legs are nearly touching. Snowflakes start to fall, coming in faster and thicker.

“We should probably get the sleeping bags set up before it gets hard to see,” Will suggests, his breath puffing out in tendrils in front of him. 

“Good idea.”

Will gets the outside of our little camp ready as the sun starts to dip and night comes. We manage to get in the tent before the snow really starts to come down. It’s a little bigger than a one room tent, but we’re still pretty snug in here now that there’s two of us. And he’s so fucking broad. I shift my sleeping bag over a bit more and Will slides his down next to mine. He looks between our bags and then up at me, his eyebrows pulled together in slight concern.

“What is it?” I ask nervously.

“It’s…nevermind.”

I punch his arm and have to choke back a scream at how firm it is. “Just tell me.”

He chuckles while he dramatically rubs his arm. “Ouch,” he smirks as I roll my eyes. “But we should zip our bags together. For warmth. It’s about to get pretty cold.”

“William Miller. Are you asking to get in my sleeping bag with me?”

He shifts nervously, his ear tips turning red. “No! I uh, that’s not… I mean, it’s basic survival. I didn’t mean.. I don’t want you to think-”

I laugh then, cutting him off. “Chill out, Will. I know how you meant it. You’re a nice guy. I just like watching you blush.”

He rubs at his face. “You’re dangerous.”

“How dare you, good sir. I am a lady.”

He snorts and I swear under his breath he says “I bet you are.”

We get the bags zipped together and slide down in them, trying to leave as much space as we could between us. After several minutes of us shuffling around awkwardly, Will chuckles.

“You wanna be the big spoon or the little one?”

My laughter rings out in the tent joining his, tears streaming down my face at this brilliant tension breaker. “I’ll be little,” I choke out. I turn around, facing my back towards him. I feel him scoot closer and heat instantly rushes through my body, pooling between my thighs. Can he hear how my heart is about to beat from my chest?

“Is this ok?” Will’s breath fans out over my neck, goosebumps erupting in it’s wake. 

“Uh..I uh…y-yeah. All good. Is it uh, close enough? For survival, I mean.”

Will clears his throat. “Uh, well I mean. We should probably be, uh, closer. To stay warm. For survival, of course.”

“Well if it’s for survival, scoot as close as you want.”

He makes a choking sound but shifts closer, his body molding to mine. I can feel his hand hovering, unsure of where to place it. I reach back and take it, gently placing it on my hip, trying to ignore the heat that immediately ignites, flowing down between my legs. The wind blows outside, the tent rustling with it. I shift my hips a little and Will’s grip on my hip tightens, his fingers digging into my skin. And I can feel something else pressing against my ass and I swallow hard.

“You’re going to have to stop moving around, darlin’. Please.” He chokes out the last word, sounding restrained. 

I take a deep breath. “What if I don’t want to?”

His grip tightens even more and I know I’ll bruise if he keeps it up. And I don’t care if I do. 

“I’m trying really hard to be respectful, Autumn.”

I glance over my shoulder at him. “Don’t be respectful then.”

A quiet growl emanates from him. “What are you saying?”

I make sure I have his gaze. “Be disrespectful. If it’s permission you want, you have it.” 

He watches me for a long moment before I feel him shift, his arm that’s not gripping my hip sliding under my neck. He twists his wrist, sliding it down to unbutton my shirt, his hand finding it’s way down my shirt and under my bra, gently swiping his fingers over my nipple. But at the same time, his other hand slowly moves from my hip, pulling my leg up and over his own, his hand gently teasing my skin as he pushes it under my pantline and between my legs, another groan when he feels how wet I am. I gasp as he nips at my shoulder. 

“You’re so fuckin’ wet, Autumn.”

I try to respond, but instead a moan escapes me as his fingers start to play with me, gentle circles with alternating pressure as all my blood rushes between my legs, that fire igniting rather quickly. 

“Will, I’m gonna…” I’m not entirely sure what I say as I come, my leg twitching as my body soars, pleasure radiating out from between my thighs, spreading throughout me.

“Feeling warm?” Will speaks deeply in my ear, nibbling a little on my ear lobe.

I nod, my head flying already. “You didn’t even take my clothes off.”

He chuckles against my neck. “I told you I was respectful.”

Surprising even myself, I reach behind me and grab him over his pants. He grunts but pushes against my hand, no doubt relieving some of the pressure. I turn my head towards him, my lips barely brushing his. “Please, Will.”

His eyes are like a storm at sea, blue and wild, darkening. “Tell me.”

I take his hand and push it between my legs where I was growing wetter by the second as I push my hips back, grinding on him. He grunts in my ear. “You gotta stop doing that or I won’t be able to hold myself.”

My hand, still over his, pushes his fingers towards my entrance, his thick fingers circling me, heat and anticipation swirling around me. “D-don’t hold yourself back. Fuck me, Will. Please,” I’m not above begging at this point, his finger continuing to edge me along. But then he’s pulling his hand out of my pants, trying to sit up but struggling because we’re in a sleeping bag. 

“Take off your clothes before I rip them off.”

That command went straight through me, my fingers moving quickly to take off all my clothes, tossing them out of the sleeping bag. Will does the same on his own, starting his own neater pile outside of the sleeping bag. I lay back down, assuming he’ll want the same position. His fingers skim across my side, watching the goosebumps pimple up. But then he pushes my hip down, turning me on my back as he slides over my body, my legs opening as wide as I can to give him space. He’s heavy, fuck he’s so much bigger than I thought as he presses against my clit, hot and pulsing. His eyes find mine, a dark twinkle in them as he leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. I part them and he slides his tongue inside, the kiss quickly heating up as he starts to move his hips. He slides himself over me, back and forth across my clit, swallowing my moans. My fingers dig at his back, silently begging him for more. The pressure is so intense, so much, that if he doesn’t fuck me now, I may just pop. Or go insane. 

Then Will gently takes my wrists, pinning them on either side of my head. His hips shift and with a confident stride, he pushes into me, my head pressing back into the pillow as I feel the pleasant burn, my body stretching to accept him, all of him. He pulls his hips back and pushes in, this time with a little more force and I feel a jolt through my body as he hits some spot at the back of me. I whine as Will continues to fuck me, slowly but forcefully, heat coursing through me. And then, I snap, crying out his name as I squeeze around him, my entire body lighting up and carrying me away from myself, my release made more intense by being pinned under him, unable to move away from the intense pleasure. 

Will’s breaths are heavy, panting out with restraint, like he’s holding himself back. He kisses me again, hard, nipping at my bottom lip before pulling back and out, but before I have a chance to feel too empty, he somehow flips me on my belly, my boobs pressing into the sleeping bag as he arcs my hips up just enough for him to slide in easily, my body greedily taking him in. He lays on top of me, his arms over mine as he laces his fingers with my hands. The weight of him both on and in me sends heat right back between my legs. He bites at my neck and shoulder as he fucks into me, deeper and harder with every thrust until I’m coming again, screaming his name into my pillow as I feel his hips sputter, Will whining in my ear as he spills inside of me. His body slumps against mine, both of us trying to catch our breath. Eventually, he slides off of me and to my side, turning me and pulling me to his chest. He nuzzles in my hair, wrapping his arms around me again, one massive hand holding a boob.

“Warm enough?” Will whispers in my ear.

“Mmm..” I respond. “You didn’t tell me you could fuck, Will.”

He chuckles and kisses my neck. “I’m restricted by this sleeping bag, darlin’. I did the best I could.”

The whine that escapes me is loud. “I’d love to see that.”

“Well when I’m done with you after this camping trip darlin’, you’re going to need some time to recover. And then I plan on showing you exactly how my fucking is.”

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[thena0315]

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Hear me out

Nadira as the Blue Time Force Ranger💙👀

[syoddeye]

the warren, part two

price x f!reader | 2.9k words

part one (prologue)

CW: blood (mentioned), dead animals, stalking

One bedroom. One bath. A screened-in porch. A carport. A woodshed. Fully furnished.

The old cabin in the woods is perfect.

No one answers the first call to the number on the ad, and the voicemail doesn't offer a clue as to who ought to answer. You leave a message anyway. After calling upwards of fifty places in the last week, you're desperate. The end of the month's coming up. Since you turned the motel manager down, he's wanted you out.

You fill out the rental application before hearing back, thank the gods there's no fee, and send it off with a sugary-sweet note and signature.

A woman calls back when you're in the middle of the supermarket. Congratulations, you want the place? You got it. It feels quick and surprising, but who are you to look a gift horse in the mouth? For the next four months, the cabin's yours. The landlady launches into details, forcing you to jot down directions on the back of your list. No GPS up here, she explained. The forest is too thick. Too many trees? Not a bad thing, in your opinion.

"Sure you're alright with sight unseen?"

"Yeah, I trust the pictures in the ad," You don't. "I'm itching to spend the summer in nature."

"Grouse Bay is a good spot for a getaway. You might not want to leave when the lease is up."

The sentiment makes you smile. "Sounds perfect."

~~

There is no welcome sign for Grouse Bay. No indication you're close until you're right up on it, or rather, over it.

A thick quilt of pine, fir, and cedar hugs the gravel roadway. Asphalt disappeared some ten miles back, and you pray your car and its ancient tires stick out the descent into town. You're careful not to lean your full weight against the overlook's worn wooden fence. Below you, the road carves a series of switchbacks until it sweeps through a dozen or so lakeside structures. Thin tendrils of smoke curl up from more properties hidden by trees. With the blues of the lake and mountains on the horizon, it's a regular postcard.

Your teeth clatter, and the car shakes the whole way down. You pass a few gated forestry roads and private drives with quirky names before the road curves a final time and spits you out onto the main street. The only street.

We are not in Kansas anymore.

You don't miss a single building, crawling along at the posted speed of 15 MPH. There's a motel, a veterinary office, a grocer, and a water and sewer utility building, and where the road splits to continue along the lake or further up a hill into the woods is the Foxhole.

A rough-looking pub, your lip curls at the horrifically taxidermied fox in the window beside the door. You pull into a makeshift parking spot next to an old Ranger, collect yourself, and head inside. 

Three heads swivel in your direction, two patrons and the barkeep. The men's expressions are unreadable, but the woman behind the counter offers a thin smile. 

"Sit where you'd like."

The stale air smells like heat and cigarette smoke, and the ceiling fans do little to dissipate either. "I'm actually popping in to pick up a key? To a rental?" Your eyes flick to the men at the bar, not wanting to state precisely where you're staying in front of them.

The woman's smile turns knowing. "Right. We spoke on the phone. I'm Kate Laswell. I own the cabin."

"Owns half the town," One of the men snorts, pinching the neck of his bottle for a swig.

"Ignore him," Her hand disappears into her vest pocket and produces a carabiner with one key. "You got the check?"

"Yes," You pull out your billfold, carefully slide the folded paper slip out from between cards, and exchange it for the key.

Kate inspects it briefly, then dips her head. "Need me to wait to cash it?"

Your face heats at the implication. You hadn't listed employment on the application but assumed the bank's letter spoke for you. After all, she accepted you. "No. Cash it whenever you'd like."

"Alright then. Know where you're going?"

"Yes ma'am, I do."

"So polite," she chuckles, glancing at the men who grin at you. "Well then, enjoy. Call me if you need anything or have questions."

You hightail it out of the bar, and try to ignore the weight of three sets of eyes on your back. 

~~

The engine clicks as it cools, the only sound louder than the birdsong. Wedged between the open driver's door, you stand, feet firmly planted, yet feel like you could float. You made it.

The cabin is a deep red oxblood, faded by weather and time. The carport sags more than in the pictures, and the woodshed is nearly cleaned out, but it looks like a dream. Sunlight drapes over the front half of the structure, and a breeze catches a wooden wind chime over the exterior door of the porch.

Hauling your bags out of the backseat, you trek up the gravel drive. The key slots in easily, like the hardware's brand new. The door inches open, and the smell of musty, trapped air leaks out. Here we go.

You exhale a shaky breath. So far, so good. The pictures continue to match reality. The door opens to the dining and kitchen area with a honey oak table draped in a checkered runner, coordinating cabinetry, a towering glass-doored cabinet on the wall, and the back entrance dead ahead. To the left are a couch and armchair, with a low table and a padded woolen rug beneath. The door to the screened porch also sits to the left, with the entrances you presume leading to the bedroom and bathroom ahead.

Wood paneling lines every room. Others might think it tacky, but you find it charming and warm. It makes it a bonafide cabin, one you've pictured a thousand times. The bedroom is sparse, with a simple furniture set including a dresser, a nightstand, a lamp, and a vintage brass bed frame.

You make quick work of settling in. The space is tidy enough, though it's clear that Kate probably hasn't stopped in since you signed the lease. You open the windows for fresh air and do a little dusting. The dining table swiftly becomes the catch-all, with the miscellaneous other belongings you brought scattered over its surface, including the prehistoric laptop you handed a middle-aged woman a wad of cash for in the parking lot of a Walmart. You'd left in a hurry but planned meticulously. Aside from a few necessities and groceries, you have everything you need.

In the screened porch, you discover a glider and ottoman needing new upholstery and a lacquered wooden sign with lettering spelling out The Warrens. It rests on a windowsill, covered in a thin layer of grime. You think it must be from the former owners and leave it out of an odd sense of respect.

An hour later, the place aired out, you shut the windows, clip the car and cabin key together, and hesitate at the door. What's the protocol out here? You've never lived anywhere that didn't require multiple deadbolts. The town's simplicity and the woods' peacefulness - you can't even see the end of the property's driveway from the step - make you think it's probably okay…But then you think of the men in the bar. They didn't look bad, but the bad ones rarely did.

Mind made up, you lock the door.

~~

The walk from the main thoroughfare to the cabin is ten, maybe fifteen minutes uphill. Sandals weren't the move, a reminder you tuck away for the next trip. Your focus stretches back to Grouse Grocery and its shopkeep, and you swallow hard at your naivete. 

"Aw, I didn't know you could feed the deer like this."

"It's bait, sweetheart."

Lingering humiliation propels you up the slope to your newfound sanctuary. It doesn't help the grocer's handsome. His eyes are the same color as the lake, his face framed by a beard and mustache, punctuating the mountain man look. Tall with a broad chest and shoulders that taper into a trim waist. Burly arms dusted with hair, chest too, far as you could tell through the open uppermost buttons of his shirt. Your mind fills in the blanks of what his bootcut jeans and flannel covered. Something peculiar to him, though, and you can't put your finger on it.

I'm overthinking this. It's a small town. I'm not used to it, yet. 

Not weird, just different.

The four words become your mantra when odd things start within days of your arrival.

~~ 

As you told the good-looking grocer, you are an animal lover through and through. The child who toted frogs home from the playground pushed their nose to the glass outside pet stores and braked for ducklings. You dabbled with a vegetarian diet, failed, and overspent at farmers' markets in weak absolution. But you had never been a pet person. Life never allowed for it. 

Which is why the cats are bewildering. Within the first week, three feral cats traipse about the property. By the end of week two, you count nine. Lounging in the woodpile, hiding beneath your car, or sitting on the step like they own the place. They skitter and hiss when you approach and don't touch the scraps of food you leave out to curry favor.

Then there are the 'gifts' they leave you. Headless birds, mice, and other small mammals. Entrails and viscera steaming on the cement step in the high noon sunlight. The Internet says it's normal, you say it's disgusting.

You read cats leave dead animals when they believe their human is helpless. That they see humans as big, furless, and inept hunters whose survival is in peril because they lack the innate ability to track, pursue, and kill.

Scraping the latest offering off their altar, you shrug off such notions. They're probably upset that their favorite place to squat is now occupied.

Then, the carcasses quadruple in size. One early morning, you decide to walk down to the lake to read with a cup of coffee, only to drop the mug and book into the dirt. A gutted doe is not fifteen feet from the front door beside your car. Black eyes lolled skyward, pinna flopped over its skull, and legs akimbo. After sprinting and vomiting into the kitchen sink, you call Kate.

"Sorry that's happened, I can send someone up to remove it in the next half hour. You ought to know that you might see more stuff like that, kid. Area's rich in wildlife - bears, cougars, bobcats, wolves, hell, even eagles drop half-eaten marmots from time to time."

You remain on the kitchen floor, repeating your new mantra, and not fifteen minutes later, tires on gravel announce someone's arrival. Mercifully, no one comes to the door. Whoever it is doesn't even kill the engine. You hear footsteps crunching on rock, the doe's body hitting the bed of a truck, the slam of a door, and the person pulling away.

Mustering the courage to stand, you stare from the front door, eyes transfixed on the blood left behind. You pray for rain.

It doesn't come.

~~

The front light won't turn on. You swap the lightbulb with a spare from the cupboard and zip. Nothing. You call Kate, whose patience seems a deep well. She promises to send the local handyman and gets off the phone in a hurry. Annoyingly, you don't get a name or a time.

It's noon when a red pick-up arrives the next day. You're on your feet, off the glider and its ottoman on the porch, and barefoot when the door to the truck swings open. The practiced smile you wear falters a little when a familiar cut of a man steps out, sizes up the cabin in a glance, and then turns to grab a toolbox from the bed.

You meet him at the door.

"You're the handyman, too?"

The crow's feet by his eyes tighten with a smirk. "And the locksmith." His chin lifts to the sconce. "This it?"

"The one."

"Right, I'll get a stepladder and it'll be in working order within the hour. Mind shutting off the power in the meantime?" 

"Of course. Need anything else from me?" 

His smile's a waxing crescent, mouth twitching like he's got something clever to say. You've seen it before on the mugs of men trying to get fresh with you, but he keeps whatever it is locked behind his teeth.

"No. I'll let you know when you can turn the power on."

The hum of the refrigerator dies with the electricity, leaving the cabin completely quiet. You return to the glider and book, thumbing through to find your place. Convenient, the screened porch catches the fleeting hours of direct sunlight that hits the cabin. It also allows you a chance to watch and listen to him work.

"Name's John, by the way," He says after a while, voice clipped, meeting your eye through the screen when you look up. "You didn't ask."

It's off-putting, the way he speaks. It wasn't as if he conducted himself with overt kindness at his store, but you hadn't expected him - John - to take a tone with you, a stranger. A newcomer. Your smile is eager to smooth things over, a beat faster than any instinct to fight, always has been. "You're right, how rude of me."

His focus returns to the light, giving a slight roll of his shoulders as if your apology lifted a weight off his back. "S'alright, reckon you're learning how things work 'round here."

You want to return to Winterson in your lap, but the poorly disguised condescension fans a spark of annoyance. "You haven't asked for mine."

"I know yours," He responds, pulling a rag from a loop on his pants to wipe at something. "Kate talks."

The paperback spine creaks in your grip. "I suppose that comes with owning the watering hole."

He chuckles, exchanging the rag for a pair of pliers. "Something like that."

You don't ask. Handsome John may be, but he is definitely weird. Best to avoid the bad side of the nearest grocer, handyman, and locksmith. You return to reading, and another half hour slips past. You don't notice until the hum of the refrigerator restarts, practically jolting you out of the chair.

John stands washing his hands in your kitchen sink. You did not invite him in. His head turns, seemingly hearing how your breath stutters, and he nods at the switch beside the door.

"Give 'er a try," He says, wiping his hands on a dish towel.

The light works, and you flick it a few times to be sure. You stare up at the light, listening to its muted hum.

"Y'know," John murmurs, suddenly behind you in the doorway, leaning, supported by an arm, on the frame well above your head. "This is an old place. Doesn't get let often. Probably more repairs hiding around here. Already saw a few holes in the screen. I can take a walkthrough and fix what I can while I'm here."

Your head dips back, neck craning to meet his eye at this angle. It doesn't occur to you to move despite the whole of the front yard before you. You swallow. He's only trying to drum up business. A small-town entrepreneur. Trying to survive just like you. "Maybe another time."

John raps two knuckles on the frame and pushes off. "Alright, I'll gather my things." He brushes against you as he passes and collects his tools and stepladder.

You watch him from the entry and offer a weak smile when he returns, holding a notepad. He fishes a pencil out from a pocket, scribbling a moment, before he tears off a page and holds it out – an old-fashioned carbon invoice.

Not weird, just different.

"Pay when you can. You know where to find me."

You take the invoice. "Not afraid I'll skip town?" You joke, trying to gauge his sense of humor.

He grins and huffs a laugh. It sounds only a little forced. "Not at all. I know all the best spots from the bay to the mountains, for hiding or otherwise." He rubs the back of his neck.

Your brows creep up. "Or otherwise?"

John's eyes widen a fraction, and his hand slips from his neck in a gesture of surrender. "Don't mean anything by that. More like…for food. Dinner, maybe? A hike?"

The sheepishness of his tone does him credit. So what if he's a little awkward or indelicate? Probably as nervous as you are, though clearly for different reasons. In town for all of two weeks and already a local's taken interest. Inwardly, you preen.

"That sounds like a date."

"It does." He concedes.

You start to shut the door on him, stopping when his expression falls into absolute confusion. A laugh bubbles up, and you open the door again. "Well? You didn't ask," You playfully turn his words back on him.

"Smart one, aren't you. Alright then," He muses aloud, smiling. "Would you like to grab dinner later this week? Know a good spot within a half hour of here."

The way he looks at you, eyes crinkling with interest, you don't suppose it's a bad idea to get out, make friends, and immerse yourself in the community. "I'd like that, John."

There's a triumphant glint in his eyes. "I'll be in touch, sweetheart." He dips his head, returns to his truck, and flashes a wave when he pulls a u-turn and drives out.

That night, when you return from a walk to watch the sunset, you flip on the porch light, grinning, thinking about your date.

You do not notice the little red dot within the bulb.