#Boot Loop Fix

[filehulk]

ReiBoot for Android

ReiBoot for Android is a free PC utility that can quickly connect to an Android device via USB and place it into recovery mode without the need to press any buttons on the device. Though this feature might seem simple, the app is highly versatile and reliable, using built-in tools to address a wide range of common Android issues, such as boot logo crashes, freezes, boot app crashes, black…

[sleepsucks]

[fubbywubby]

👍👍👍

[luetta]

idk if people on tumblr know about this but a cybersecurity software called crowdstrike just did what is probably the single biggest fuck up in any sector in the past 10 years. it's monumentally bad. literally the most horror-inducing nightmare scenario for a tech company.

some info, crowdstrike is essentially an antivirus software for enterprises. which means normal laypeople cant really get it, they're for businesses and organisations and important stuff.

so, on a friday evening (it of course wasnt friday everywhere but it was friday evening in oceania which is where it first started causing damage due to europe and na being asleep), crowdstrike pushed out an update to their windows users that caused a bug.

before i get into what the bug is, know that friday evening is the worst possible time to do this because people are going home. the weekend is starting. offices dont have people in them. this is just one of many perfectly placed failures in the rube goldburg machine of crowdstrike. there's a reason friday is called 'dont push to live friday' or more to the point 'dont fuck it up friday'

so, at 3pm at friday, an update comes rolling into crowdstrike users which is automatically implemented. this update immediately causes the computer to blue screen of death. very very bad. but it's not simply a 'you need to restart' crash, because the computer then gets stuck into a boot loop.

this is the worst possible thing because, in a boot loop state, a computer is never really able to get to a point where it can do anything. like download a fix. so there is nothing crowdstrike can do to remedy this death update anymore. it is now left to the end users.

it was pretty quickly identified what the problem was. you had to boot it in safe mode, and a very small file needed to be deleted. or you could just rename crowdstrike to something else so windows never attempts to use it.

it's a fairly easy fix in the grand scheme of things, but the issue is that it is effecting enterprises. which can have a looooot of computers. in many different locations. so an IT person would need to manually fix hundreds of computers, sometimes in whole other cities and perhaps even other countries if theyre big enough.

another fuck up crowdstrike did was they did not stagger the update, so they could catch any mistakes before they wrecked havoc. (and also how how HOW do you not catch this before deploying it. this isn't a code oopsie this is a complete failure of quality ensurance that probably permeates the whole company to not realise their update was an instant kill). they rolled it out to everyone of their clients in the world at the same time.

and this seems pretty hilarious on the surface. i was havin a good chuckle as eftpos went down in the store i was working at, chaos was definitely ensuring lmao. im in aus, and banking was literally down nationwide.

but then you start hearing about the entire country's planes being grounded because the airport's computers are bricked. and hospitals having no computers anymore. emergency call centres crashing. and you realised that, wow. crowdstrike just killed people probably. this is literally the worst thing possible for a company like this to do.

crowdstrike was kinda on the come up too, they were starting to become a big name in the tech world as a new face. but that has definitely vanished now. to fuck up at this many places, is almost extremely impressive. its hard to even think of a comparable fuckup.

a friday evening simultaneous rollout boot loop is a phrase that haunts IT people in their darkest hours. it's the monster that drags people down into the swamp. it's the big bag in the horror movie. it's the end of the road. and for crowdstrike, that reaper of souls just knocked on their doorstep.

[macbookscreenrepair]

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[goldengodcannibal]

My fucking PHONE 🙃

[amaranthinespirit]

cowboy!simon riley and city girl!reader when your car breaks down on the side of the road in the countryside

you weren't from around here, it was obvious in the way you dressed, and acted. hell, even the car you drove just screamed that you were from the city.

though if that didn't give it away, maybe it was the fact that your tiny little car was now parked—broken down—on the side of the road. a hand on your hip and the other wiping the sweat from your forehead as the blistering sun beat down on you.

you were convinced you were royally fucked—that you would be stuck to a night in your car. there wasn't any service, and there sure as hell wasn't anyone around.

at least that's what you thought until a massive, dirtied truck pulled off the road in front of your car. you swallowed a knot in the back of your throat that only travelled down to your stomach as you watched a tall, intimidating guy step out from the battered vehicle. his boots kicked against the road, scraping the tiny, loose rocks on the asphalt.

a cowboy hat hung low on his head, a fully black bandana tied around his face that covered his nose and lips, leaving only his dark, daunting eyes to sear into yours. his thumb hooked through the denim belt loop of his jeans, his other arm swaying by his side as he walked to the front of your car, which looked pathetically small next to his.

a quick look under the hood told him all he needed to know—with you and the car. he saw the way your eyes seemed to linger on his exposed arms after he had rolled up his sleeves. the dirt smudges along his skin, the dark ink of his tattoo and the veins that strained as he tinkered through the different parts of your car.

he claimed that he could fix it tomorrow—he didn't have the tools with him! he claimed, but really, they were lying in the bed of his truck, but he didn't want to let such a pretty little thing like you go so quickly. he wanted to have a bit of fun first!

so he offered you a nice stay at his little farmhouse, with the promise of warm food and a comfortable bed to sleep on, and who were you to resist? it was either that, or sleep in the backseat of your car—and you knew which one you would've preferred.

"fuck, such a pretty little thing, ain't ya?" he praises with a beer in one hand, the other veined hand wrapped up in your silky hair, helping your body in pulling back into his cock. the couch creaked and rocked under the consistent shifting weight as he pistoned his hips forward.

the rocking of his hips was restrained in order to not spill his beer—otherwise he would've loved to completely wreck you on his meaty cock.

"gon' hafta keep ya around, ain't tha' right?" he grunted before taking a swift sip from the bottle.

when the beer got to the end of the bottle and he set the glass down, you were in trouble. with a swift movement, he had pulled out enough so only the angry tip of his cock teased your hole, slick with your arousal before driving his bulbous dick back into your sensitive pussy.

his hips pounded against your ass, turning your flesh red as the sound of skin slapping together carried through the house. his balls slapping against your glistening pussy with every slamming thrust, the sensation making your eyes roll back. he was determined to make a mess of you—more so than he already did.

his fist clenched harder around your hair as the other went to your shoulder, a bruising grip against your flesh. he growled at the mindless moans spilling from your lips, only making him even more driven to fuck you brainless.

and don't worry, he will.

[onewingednatu]

Wild how my laptop survived me spilling water all over it, but NOW it's acting up right after an update?????? Fuck off HP

[boowritess]

very mild 18+ simon riley x reader

lmaoo i can't breathe Simon Riley is just a man.

atleast to you.

when he's home, all he is to you is dry humor, a couple beers every night, sat in front of the tv on his spot on the couch, the game is playing - some soccor or rugby match. he doesn't wear his mask, his clothes are a simple t-shirt and some pair of shorts he just threw on.

he uses your shampoo and conditioner, as much as it pisses you off because it's expensive and for some reason he uses half the fucking bottle everytime he's home, but when he does the groceries he still comes home with '2 in 1 shampoo and conditioner' he would’ve got the '3 in 1' but the last time he did that he got no head for 3 weeks.

he'll go to the pub, take you out, pushes the trolley, holds your bag, let's you dress how you want it, belly gets a little soft because he eats food like he's never ate before, buy you anything you want even after the 'do you really need it though?' talk.

he's bit lazy on workouts only goes on the occasional run, but will fuck you whenever you want; always vanilla and only gets rough when you ask.

he will say he'll fix whatever appliance needs tending too but won't do it right away, starts the occasional handyman job at odd times.

it's just - he's so mundane and normal that you'd never know just how dangerous he is ???? like he so carefully hides that side from you. seriously. when he's home, he throws his gear in the bottom of his closet in a box, locking Ghost away and just existing as Simon.

even when the rest of the task force come around on the occasion. they're so normal and are just... men. yelling at the tv during a sport match. teasing each other. stealing snacks and helping with cleaning. they never speak about work and when you ask them, it's always a smile and shrug, "just another day really." "little boring and slow." "oh not too bad." their answers are so half-assed, that you don't even ask anymore; which is what they want.

but you really aren't missing anything. not when you don't even know what you're missing out on.

it's crazy, because he even keeps Ghost hidden when you're being harassed by men. whether that be when you're shopping or just going for a walk.

he'll loop an arm around your waist or over your shoulder, look at the guy with a grin - that's more of a sneer, "can i help you, mate?" he'll drawl. his stature and stare is enough to make the man who had been harassing you back off.

"what a freak..." you mutter with a roll of your eyes, letting Simon guide you away as he presses a kiss to your temple, a deep chuckle leaving him.

around midnight you wake up to Simon in the laundry room washing his hands. he doesn't blink or hesitate when you wonder in and wrap your arms around his waist. "what're you doing?" you mumble, sleepy eyss dropping to the sink.

Simon's hands are red, and you would be alarmed, should be alarmed. but how could you when Simon hums softly, a sound that rumbles deep from his throat, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head. he's so warm and casual that you don't even do a touble take seeing the blood.

"caught a rat. right pest they are. the trap i set snapped it clean in half." Simon's mutters, he raises a bloodied hand to you, sniggering when you crinkle your nose up in disgust and step away from him.

"ew, i'm going back to bed." you huff, yawning and leaving him to what he was doing.

Simon laughs softly as you head off. "just be a sec, love." he says as you go. all he receives is a yawn and a tired 'mhm'.

he cleans his hands and then his phone chimes. he pulls it out and it's a private message.

'getting rid of your pest now, LT.'

image attached

Simon opens the picture and sure enough there's the man from earlier in the boot of a car. all bloodied like Ghost left him.

Simon heads back upstairs to your shared room, you quietly snoozing away. you don't steer or wake as the closet door opens and Simon's putting his mask back in with his gear. No. Ghost is too quiet to let you wake from such a warm and sweet sleep.

he turns from the closet after putting everything away and changing clothes. he crawls into his side of the bed and wraps his arms around you. letting your body nestle back into his side. limbs tangling together.

just you and your simon.

a/n: inspired by a tik tok video on how he is just a man lmaooo

[valeisaslut]

riding country!ellie with your hands tied behind your back. that’s all i have to say baby ☺️💗

blessed are the ones who sin .♱ ݁˖

♱ word count: 2.8k 𖥔 ݁ ˖-

♱ content warnings: country!ellie x preacher’s daughter!reader, dom!reader x light sub!ellie, semi-public barn sex, religious guilt/blasphemy kink, bondage (wrists tied), spit kink, overstimulation, ass slapping, strap-on sex, mutual filth, southern accents, reader in control, ellie gets ruined, overstimmed & begging, both unholy and holy. MEN AND MINORS DNI, likes and reblogs are deeply appreciated 𖥔 ݁ ˖

late summer air hangs thick with the smell of hay and something sweeter— like sin and sweat, like the hot ache of wanting something you ain’t supposed to. the crickets scream from the fields just outside, but inside it’s so quiet you can hear the sound of her chewing gum and the faint creak of the wooden beam you’re tied to.

your wrists are bound behind your back with her bandana. the red one. the one she always ties around her forehead when she’s fixing up her truck or working the stables. it smells like leather and salt and a her. something wild and unruly, something that’s never knelt for god in her life.

you’re kneeling in front of her. back straight. chin high. sweat rolling down your neck.

and ellie’s sitting in the hayloft ladder like it’s a damn throne, legs spread wide in those old jeans and boots caked in dirt, thumb hooked in her belt loop like she’s got all the time in the world.

“you always this mouthy for jesus, baby?” she drawls, slow and thick like molasses.

you raise your brow, smiling through the tension. “only on sundays.”

she laughs — low, rough, half-wicked. not the first time you’ve said something blasphemous in front of her, and it sure as hell won’t be the last.

there’s a rhythm to the way you sin with her. steady, worn into the floorboards. you’ve been sneaking around since spring, maybe longer, depending on how you measure guilt. maybe it started the moment she saw you barefoot on the porch, twirling a popsicle in your mouth with your sunday dress hitched up too high, your smile too slow. maybe it started when she smiled back.

your family doesn’t know.

god help them if they ever did.

they don’t ask where you go in the evenings. don’t ask why you’ve started skipping bible study or why your sheets smell like smoke. they just keep making plans, setting your place at someone else’s table. they say austin’s got a strong back and a clean conscience. that his daddy runs the feed store and his mama’s been praying for a girl just like you. they say you’ll grow to love him, that it’s god’s will, that you were made to serve— soft hands, closed legs, a white dress that won’t wrinkle.

they say purity like it’s a scripture you forgot how to recite.

because your body’s already spoken, louder than any psalm. it remembers the first time ellie touched you — fingers calloused from leather and sun, but gentle when they slipped beneath the cotton hem of your skirt in the back of her truck. it remembers the kiss behind the grain silo, your breath stuttering in her mouth, the way her hands gripped your hips like she was holding back a prayer she didn’t know how to say.

it remembers that sunday service, all tight smiles and tighter throats, when her hand brushed yours beneath the pew and your knees nearly buckled. you said amen with her fingerprints still blooming across your thighs, half a hymn tangled in your teeth.

ellie’s a cowboy. not the kind in songs, the real kind. boots worn through, flannel rolled to the elbows, jaw shadowed, shoulders broad. she rides horses, fixes fences, spits sunflower seeds out the side of her truck.

she’s got the kind of swagger your daddy would call a sickness. the kind of mouth your mama would pray out of you.

and she's kind of girl you couldn’t stop looking at since the day she rode into town with nothing but a duffel bag and a chip on her shoulder.

she doesn’t ask you to be quiet, doesn’t beg you to repent. she lays you down like a secret, one she knows the world will never be good enough to keep.

and you want her.

not just the rough edges, not just the danger.

you want the whole damn thing.

every inch of her, every breath. every long, aching night when she climbs through your window and fucks you so slow you forget how to say god’s name.

“reckon you got no shame,” she murmurs, her southern drawl curling around each word like smoke, eyes dragging over you slow. “kneelin’ for me in your daddy’s barn like a damn altar.”

you smile, all sugar. “ain’t shameful if he ain’t watchin’.”

ellie hums, low in her throat, and shifts forward on the wooden step. she’s flushed already, cheeks rosy, freckles darker in the barnlight. her hat’s tipped back off her head, hair tucked behind her ears. there’s a glint of sweat on her neck.

the strap’s already buckled on her hips —she always comes prepared, cocky little shit— but she hasn’t moved to use it. not yet.

“you been thinkin’ 'bout me?” she asks.

“every night.”

“and what exactly you think about?”

you tilt your head, testing her. “ridin’ you till you cry.”

her eyes flare. that sharp little twist of want crosses her face. the one that makes her jaw flex, her tongue swipe over her lip like she’s trying not to show how bad she wants it.

“you talk real big for someone with her hands tied,” she says, voice slipping a notch lower.

you lean forward, still on your knees, bare from the waist down, tank top damp with sweat and sticking to your back.

“you ain’t never had me ride you proper,” you murmur. “scared you’ll like it too much?”

ellie’s breath catches.

and it doesn’t take much to get her on her back.

ellie can act big and bad all she wants, but there’s something in the way she looks at you, like you’re the only one who ever unraveled her, that makes her pliant under your hands.

or in this case, under your hips.

you straddle her slowly, wrists still bound behind your back, breath caught somewhere between anticipation and ache. it’s awkward at first —not being able to steady yourself— but ellie helps. her hands find your waist, strong and sure, roughened by rope and reins. she holds you like she’s done it a hundred times, like your body was made to fit the mold of her grip.

her strap’s thick, veined, rubber catching light in the humid barn air. when you start to sink onto it, your whole body clenches. it’s wider than you remember, heavier. it doesn’t ease in; it claims space. stretches you open inch by inch until you can feel the pressure bloom behind your ribs, until your cunt swallows the whole length in a slow, trembling glide.

your breath stutters, your thighs shake. it’s not pain, it’s more than that— a full-bodied, spine-deep throb that makes your eyes roll back.

“oh, fuck,” you breathe, voice cracking.

ellie groans, low and drawn out, green irises dark and blown as she watches you sink down onto her cock. her head tips back, resting against the old hay bale, hips twitching up into your heat.

you can feel everything— the drag of the strap against your walls, the way it nudges deeper with every tiny shift. your slick is making it shine where it disappears into you, every breath you take rolls down your spine and settles between your legs. the fullness is obscene, glorious, a weight that makes you feel stuffed and ruined before you've even moved.

“god damn,” she pants, eyes stuck on the place where her cock disappears into you. “look at you.”

ellie’s hands are gripping your ass now, fingertips digging in, not guiding anymore. grounding. bracing. her thighs are tense under yours, trembling with restraint.

she wants to move, to buck up and fuck into you until you forget your name.

but she’s holding back, letting you take your time. letting you own it.

and you bounce— once, then twice, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing in the hayloft’s hush. it knocks the breath out of both of you.

then you stop.

“ellie.”

she looks up at you.

“spit in my mouth.”

her pupils dilate. something primal cuts across her face— a ripple of heat, a helpless twitch of her hips.

“jesus,” she whispers. then obeys.

you tilt your head back, tongue out, jaw slack. her spit lands hot and thick on your tongue, and your whole body jolts. the heat of it, the weight of her watching you take it.

you swallow it without blinking.

“good fuckin' girl,” she murmurs. voice gone hoarse, reverent, ruined.

“you like that?” you rasp, “like seein’ me all tied up and fuckin’ filthy?”

her answer is a sound you feel more than hear, a moan that starts in her chest and ends in yours.

she pulls the hat off her head.

her auburn locks are damp with sweat, stuck to her forehead. she looks fucked-out already. she twirls the hat once on her finger, then leans forward and settles it right on your head, tilting it low over your brow with a crooked grin.

“there,” she rasps. “now ride me, baby. you know how the sayin’ goes.”

your jaw slackens. your cunt clenches.

and then, you start to really ride her. slow, then faster, letting the friction drag against your clit each time you sink down. it’s messy as it can be. your hands useless behind your back so you can’t hold her, can’t even touch yourself.

all you can do is ride and burn and take it.

and ellie, ellie’s gone. her mouth’s open, eyes half-lidded, jaw slack as she watches you move. she’s panting now, chest heaving beneath her tank. one hand goes to grip your thigh, the other still sitting heavy on your ass.

“god, you look so good like this,” she mumbles. “like a damn dream.”

you roll your hips with a slow grind that makes both of you cry out.

“feel good?” you whisper.

“fuck—yeah. you ridin’ me so good, baby.”

you lean in closer, breath hot against her ear. “you want me to keep goin’?”

she nods, desperate, pupils blown.

“beg.”

you feel her shiver.

“please. please, baby — keep goin’. don’t stop, feels so fuckin’ good—”

you kiss her, hard and messy, even though you can’t hold her, even though it’s more teeth than grace. she whimpers into your mouth, arms wrapping around your back, pressing you flush against her chest.

and still, you ride. up and down, forward and back, each motion deliberate, unrelenting. the cock fucks into you with a rhythm that blurs into need, into instinct. your thighs tremble, your cunt flutters around the length, soaked and stretched, chasing the high that builds with every ruthless grind.

“ellie—”

“i got you,” she whispers. “come for me, baby. c’mon. make a mess all over me, i don’t care— fuck—”

and you do.

it slams into you like a storm. a white-hot burst of heat that shoots down your spine, curls your toes, makes you sob out her name. you collapse against her, writhing, gasping, clenching around nothing but rubber and the heat of her body beneath yours.

ellie holds you, whispers into your neck.

“that’s it. that’s it, pretty girl.”

when you finally stop shaking, breath still catching in your throat, you feel her shift beneath you— just a subtle twitch of her hips, but desperate. like her body’s chasing a high that isn’t hers yet, grinding up into you like it’s her cock inside you, like she can feel every pulse of your cunt in the aftermath.

you pull back just enough to see her face, flushed and slack, her freckles dusted pink, mouth parted. all bravado gone.

“you wanna come too?” you ask, voice soft. shaky.

she nods, fast. eyes wide, red in the cheeks, almost embarrassed.

“then do it."

and just like that, her hands clamp down on your hips, tight, possessive. she starts to thrust up into you with real rhythm— hard, measured, punishing. it’s not just desperate now, it’s practiced, deep. each stroke hits something sharp inside you, something raw and overused, and your whole body jolts with the contact.

the hat on your head tips forward from the force, nearly sliding off. ellie pushes it back with one hand —her eyes still locked on your face— then brings that same palm down on your ass in one sharp slap that makes you gasp, your cunt clenching around the strap with a wet squeeze.

“ride it,” she growls. “come on, baby — fuckin’ ride it.”

you’re already grinding back down to meet her thrusts, overstimulated, every nerve flaring. the strap’s deep inside you, dragging against every swollen edge, and now it’s unbearable— too much, too good, too slick. your body doesn’t know whether to fight it or surrender.

you choose the latter.

you ride her again, even as your thighs shake, even as tears prick the corners of your eyes and the most unholy whimpers and high-pitched moans can't stop falling from your lips. the overstimulation starts as heat, sharp and mean, but then melts into something hotter, filthier. a second orgasm building beneath the wreckage of the first.

ellie’s losing it. thrusting up like she’s fucking for survival, moaning into the space between your bodies, forehead damp, chest slick.

“tell me who you belong to,” she rasps, voice breaking.

“you—fuck—you, baby. always you. always.”

her hips stutter. her fingers bruise your skin.

and you feel it hit her — sudden, unstoppable — the way her thighs snap tight beneath you, her breath punches out in a broken and impossibly slutty cry, her muscles seizing around the thrusts she can’t finish.

you kiss her through it, mouths open, gasping into each other’s lungs, her rhythm still brutal beneath you. riding both orgasms out like a storm.

because just as she comes, so do you. your whole body folding over hers like a wave collapsing. you’re shaking, wrung out and wide open, dripping wet all over her.

it’s filthy. frantic. soaking.

there’s a mess between you now—your slick coating her lower stomach, smeared across her pelvis where your bodies kept grinding together. the base of the strap is soaked, and ellie’s clit is twitching beneath the harness, swollen and aching, nerves sparking with the contact, overstimulated and raw. her jeans sitting wrinkled on her knees. she’s breathless. her beautiful face slack and shining, mouth parted in awe.

you’re both still moving, barely— tiny, involuntary pulses that make your bodies tremble against each other, chasing the last shreds of the high. your thighs are trembling. her chest rises and falls like she’s been sprinting.

and when it’s finally over —when you both go limp in the hay, still pressed together, still shaking— she pulls the hat off your head and drops it beside you with a grin.

“jesus christ, baby” she pants.

you laugh, wrecked and breathless.

“he ain't here.”

“no,” she mutters, nosing at your cheek, lips brushing yours. “but you are.”

the silence after is holy. or—unholy, if we’re speaking in strict biblical terms. but it settles over both of you like grace, thick and reverent. a hush that feels sacred, even if it was born of sin.

the kind of silence that follows after church service, when the air is thick with incense and everyone’s misdeeds still hang like ghosts in the rafters.

you sit on her lap, breath still short, wrists still tied. your forehead pressed against hers. her hands trace lazy circles on your thighs.

“think i just saw the lord,” she mutters, voice hoarse.

you laugh, soft. “he didn’t smite us, that’s somethin’.”

ellie chuckles and presses a kiss to your temple.

“ain’t nothin’ wrong with the way we love, baby.”

you shift in her lap, arms aching now.

“you gonna untie me?”

she smirks. “eventually.”

“ellie.”

“i like you like this.”

“ellie.”

she grins, wide and beautiful and ruined.

“alright, alright,” she says, finally reaching behind you to undo the knot. her fingers are gentle now, like she’s undoing a bow on the prettiest present she’s ever gotten.

you roll your shoulders when you're free, and she presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist.

“still thinkin’ about ridin’ me till i cry?” she asks, lazy, smug.

you hum. “next time.”

and she groans, tilting her head back like she’s already praying for mercy.

you laugh. you kiss her. you taste spit and sweat and salvation.

somewhere in the distance, the church bell rings.

and neither of you answer it.

࿐♡ ˚.*��� DAYYUUUMMMMMMMM I ADDED SOME LORE TO MAKE IT MORE INTERESTING BUT GAWD DAMN IM WET W MY OWN WRITING. huge HUGE HUGE love and tysm to MIA THE LOVE OF MY LIFE you live in my brain rent free and you've been here since THE first day. words can't even start to describe how much i love you. my baby. my wife. my real one. will forever love you like the moon loves the sun. okay poetic. but seriously i love you endlessly.

images from pinterest - edited by me

perm taglist (tysm for supporting, hope you enjoy <3): @talyaisvalslutsoldier @miajooz @andiemiaswife @mayfldss @sewithinsouls @coastalwilliams @hotpinkskitties @ssijht @pleasejoel @pariiissssssss @liddy333 @beeisscaredofbees @d1catwhisperer @the-sick-habit @elliescoquettegirl @elliewilliams-wife @yueluv3rrrr @your-eternal-muse @ellies-real-wife @katherinesmirnova @ellies-moth-to-a-flame @thxtmarvelchick @natscloset @lesbiansreverywhere @2against3 @wwefan2002 @ilahrawr @harmonib @piastorys @azteriarizz @starincarnated @natssgf @ukissmyfaceinacrowdedroom @iadorefineshyt @claudiajacobs @urmomssideh0e @kingofeyeliner @womenlover0 @ferxanda @imunpunishable @elliewilliamsloverrrrrrrr @bambi-luvs @maru0uu @mikellie @gold-dustwomxn @nramv @liztreez @eriiwaiii2 @elliewilliamskisser2000 @azxteria @elliecoochieeater

[rhyrhy]

Something Like Sin

Older!Farmhand! Abby x perv!farmers daughter R

CONTAINS: rough draft for a fic idea I had. MDNI. Religious guilt, impure thoughts, short.

She does it on purpose. You swear she does.

The lift of her shirt to swipe sweat from her forehead. Being sure you’re in her line of sight while she works. The small touches when passing by.

How could one woman weaken your resolve so much?

How, after a long day of doing nothing but giving your wet dreams more fuel, could she step into the main house and “report back”?

Listing everything she took care of—

That wobbly fence your belt loop always seemed to catch on. The left tire on your daddy’s truck that made that god-awful squeak when started in the early morning.

Everything but the small flicker of amusement she’d get when she caught your stare—or even just felt it.

The grumbling of your father’s “Sounds good, thanks again, Abbigail,” seeming more frequent than before.

Didn’t she fix that fence last week?

The only relief was writing it out.

The dark green journal that stayed tucked in the back pocket of worn jeans. Pages of thoughts, frustrations, fantasies.

And hidden in the back pages— Not passwords to the Wi-Fi, or the lockbox— Your feelings. The real ones. About her. Starting innocently from last summer, when she filled in for her father.

Jerry did honest work. Only lived a few roads down—he was the first person you called when things went belly-up. But he’s older now. Knees don’t work as well. So naturally, she came.

Quiet. Worked quickly. Efficient. Good hands are always welcome on the hundreds of acres your family owned.

Months of torture.

Farmhands came and went—but not her. She—Abbigail—always came back.

In your dreams.

And in the back pages of that journal.

June 5th, 2025

“She said she liked the top I was wearing last night. The one I swore I’d never wear again because of how tight it felt across my chest. But her eyes—they lingered. Just for a second. Long enough to make me feel bare. I didn’t sleep after that.”

God, you prayed she never read that one. But what was a girl like you calling on Him for? Impurities like that didn’t deserve His protection.

Sinners only thrive when hidden in the comfort of shadows.

When the sun greets the sky, the mask takes its place— In the form of the farmer’s daughter.

She made supper every evening, brought water to those helping hands, leaned into her daddy’s kisses on the forehead.

So busy being the golden girl, you—so worn—you didn’t notice that your back pocket was empty as you entered the house. Sleeping peacefully in your mattress. Farm dog Gracie barking occasionally when cars passed in the distance.

All while the green spine cracked open—

By fingers that didn’t hold the pen that stained the pages. With an ease, nothing rushed—like it had been done millions of times.

The pages flipped until their heart’s content.

Those same eyes watched you the next morning, messy hair falling as you lifted from your bed. In full view of the bay window warming the room.

The new day dances around you. Smiles and “you’re welcome”s, as usual. Until a voice sent panic striking through you like lightning.

“Not doodling in those pages of yours this mornin’?” your father said as you reached the bottom of the stairs, still slightly sleep-ridden.

No caffeine could wake someone faster. Your hand flew to your pockets. Eyes widening as the words stuck in your throat.

Where is it? Why didn’t I double-check last night? Did someone else find it? Your mind raced.

“Oh sweetheart, relax—you probably left it in your room,” your mother called out from the kitchen

Before they could say another word, the screen door flew open. Your boots crunched the gravel, bolting for the barn. You’d been there last night, writing to your heart’s content. Dreams of the future. Leaving the fields behind one day. Sending postcards to Momma with different cities attached.

But those weren’t the ones you were worried about.

A heaving chest and shaky fingers reached for the rusted latch. Greeted by moos, and Gracie sleeping near the ladder. Eyes searched the wooden floors, hands and knees warming as you looked.

And looked.

Where the hell is it? The furrow in your eyebrow deepened as did the pit in your stomach.

“You alright?” a voice called out a few feet away.

Your body jerked, a small gasp leaving you. Not expecting anyone else to be here. So early anyhow. Slowly lifting your head, trailing up the woman who almost seemed to have appeared.

Heavy boots, dark-washed jeans. That thick brown belt, silver buckle. A white beater lifted just enough to see that blonde happy trail that made your thighs squeeze together.

“Jesus, you scared me—yeah, I’m alright.”

You glanced to the woman with a quirked eyebrow at your position. Realizing how ridiculous you must’ve looked, you pushed to your feet. Hands dusting off your knees.

“Good morning, Ms. Anderson.” You stood slightly awkwardly, with a small head nod.

“I always tell you that just Abby is fine.” She smiled. “But good mornin’” The silence stretched out. Abby cleared her throat and spoke once more. “What are you looking for… in here?”

“Nothing, I just… thought I lost something in here. And now that I’ve checked… I’ll be on my way.” You gave a small smile, shifting to turn on your heels. Unable to hold that eye contact any longer.

“You sure?” “Because I found this—“ short fingers grazed something as she turned, reaching behind her. “on the floor.”

There it was. Thank God. Maybe He was listening.

“Oh! Thank you—little squirrel brain of mine sometimes.” A joke you forced out.

She huffed at the attempt and hummed “Don’t mention it.”

Your fingers brushed as you went to take it from her. Your heart rammed against your ribs. Pausing when she lifted it again slightly like she’d changed her mind. Eyes flickered to her face, meeting hers. Your hand now left with nothing as she teased it backwards. Only you heard her say—

“The way she moves—like she knows time will wait for her.” You froze. Your breath caught. Abby only tilted her head “That’s pretty, y’know? Like poetry.”

Oh, how sweet, you thought. Yet, Your heart pounded louder. How far did she read?

“Thank you…It’s nothing really. Just something I do when I’m bored.” You barely managed the words. They sounded distant, hollow in your mouth—like they belonged to someone else. Your hand closed around the journal like a secret you couldn’t bury fast enough. And then you turned. Quick. Too quick. Boots scraping against the barn floor. already vowing to be more careful next time.

That was a close one. Just leave, get this book of sin from her. Wanting to throw lighter fluid on it even. However, before you could make your escape she continued, the words burning in the light—

“Her eyes lingered. Just for a second. Long enough to make me feel bare.” Then with a small chuckle “That’s the line, ain’t it?”

Her silky voice cut through the air behind you, amusement wrapped around every word. You stopped cold. Turned slowly. “Didn’t sleep after that, huh?”

“What—what did you—” you stammered. “Oh lord—I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for you to read—”

She cut you off with a soft laugh, stepping closer. “It’s alright, really”

“That’s a filthy little thought for a girl who says good morning like a church bell.” Her eyes flicked to the journal still clutched in your guilty hands.

“What else keeps you up at night, sweetheart?”

[lottiesviolence]

Grip n’ Collar

Warning: 18+ Hard dom Sevika, switch Sevika, switch fem reader, power play / dynamics, biting, slight choking, disgusting dirty talk, pussy eatin, finger fuckin, strap-on, breeding kink, Sev is mean and rough, but so are you,, leash/bondage, hint of squirting, cumming strap sighhhhh, sweet ending ofc

Synopsis: You decided to dominate your girl...well at least trying to.

You walked around the house waiting for your girl to come home after a hard day’s work. You wore a black tube top, nipples piercing through the fabric and thin sheer black tights underneath your leather shorts that hugged your ass oh so beautifully. You knew as soon as Sevika would walk through the door she’d only have fucking you on her mind, but this time you wanted to play dirty. You had a few things up your sleeve.

The front door creaked open, and closed swiftly with the kick of Sevikas boot.

“Hey baby I’m home, missed me?” She grinned throwing her keys mindlessly on the dinning table. Her attention was grabbed when she saw you.

In the kitchen there you were, pretty, sexy, you. Your thighs squished against the cold kitchen counter you sat on. Smug look on your face, you swung a leash in your right hand while your eyes fixed on hers.

“I missed you so much baby” You said lowly, spreading your legs open ever so slightly, inviting her. “Get over here.” You commanded, and she didn’t hesitate.

Sev walked over to you, towering you still despite you sitting on the high surface. She crept her hands up your thighs and hips, fingers gripping at your tights and belt loops.

“I missed you too baby, missed tasting you... fucking you.” She said with a mean needy look on her face.

“Yeah? You wanna fuck me baby?” You teased.

“Enough, I’m losing my patience here.” Sterness in her voice.

“You can have me right here, fuck me however you want in this kitchen under one condition, okay?” You hung the end of the leash you had to her face showing her the clip.

“Absolutely not.” Sevika huffed and lit up a blunt, blowing smoke to her side.

“Then I guess you’re not gonna fuck me, such a shame, I wore this hot ass outfit for nothin, I was hoping you’d bend me over the counter and fuck me senseless, but I guess not anymor-”

“Fine.”

She cut you off, putting out her blunt. You grinned knowing how your disgusting words pulled at her heart..and strap. You clipped the leash onto the collar she wore against her neck, giving it a little yank. She moved an inch closer, a sigh escaping her lips.

“You like it don’t you?”

She ignored you and grasped at your hips pulling you closer, she kissed you roughly, tasting of whiskey and smoke. Sev bit your bottom lip, snaking down to your neck, biting and kissing leaving pretty marks all over your body.

You gasped when you heard the rip of your tights, she yanked your shorts down to your hanging feet, and pulled at the rest of the torn fabric positioning herself to taste you.

You pulled on the leash, wrapping it around your hand.

“Did I say you could do that? Huh? Did I give you permission?” You looked down at her, stopping her in her tracks as she was about to bury her face in your cunt.

She looked up at you with desperate, hungry eyes. Not knowing how to respond to your dominance, it confused her, but deep down she loved it.

“Say please.” You demanded.

Her breathe hitched when you gave her another soft yank, pullin her face closer to your dripping pussy.

“Please.. Please let me have you” She hated begging, but she loved you and how you just tasted so fucking good.

Your face was hot, seeing how you had her wrapped around your finger it drove you crazy. You tilted your head to the side giving her a smile, your free hand snaked up to her cheek, she brushed the side of her face into your warmth. She trusted you, poor..foolish.. Sevika.

You gave a harder tug, this time forcing her face into your cunt, sevika groaned in surprise, sinking into your taste, she hummed in satisfaction.

Both your hands gripped the counter, you threw your head back squeezing your eyes shut as she lapped her tongue hungrily into you.

“God! fuckkkk- that’s it baby, such an obedient.. dirty..thing you are.” You spoke breathlessly through your words, desperately clinging onto the little dominance you had left as she ate you out.

Her eyes halfway shut, she bobbed her head in every direction, lapping up your slick in her tounge, rubbin her nose against your clit, moanin into you as she served her girl.

“Gonna cum on my face baby? Should I even let you?” She teased, face still buried between you.

“Have you forgotten, I’m the one who’s in control here?” You didn’t even believe that yourself, blinded by her tongue, you lied straight through your teeth. She always had the upper hand, and god she just fucked you so good.

“Not for long” She groaned, gripping at your sweet thighs pulling you deeper into her. She sucked and kissed at your aching clit. Her nails dug into your skin, she knew you were desperate just as much as her.

Feeling your cunt tighten, you humped her face as she fucked you with her tongue.

“Mmmf fuck! Sev! gonnacumgonnacumpleasepleasee.”

She didn’t say anything, just letting her work do all the talkin. She gave you one last hump before she held your hips down, releasing for air she stuck her thick fingers into you.

You moaned and whispered pleas incoherently, keeping your grip on the leash, holding onto your last drop of power.

She hummed as you took her in so deeply. Watching as your cunt let out sweet splashes of wetness, soaking her fingers. Your top was disheveled from all the grasping and movement, she cupped and groped at your tits with her free hand, making your body tense.

“Cum f’me baby, cum on my fingers and I’ll give you what you want.” She watched as your brows furrowed tightly, she saw how desperately you wanted to be in control, but she knew what you really wanted.

“Want me to fuck you senseless, right baby? Bend you over the counter and fuck my cum into you, that’s what you want?” Her voice low and stern.

“Shut up and make me cum.” You spat, giving her another pull.

She stuffed her fingers into you deeper, moving them slowly, curling them just how you liked.

“Fuckfuckfuckkkk!” You moaned bucking your hips against her as you came on her fingers.

Sevika wasted no time, she stood up towering you once more. Quickly picking you up n’ off the counter. She turned you around, her hips positioned against your ass, your face inches away from the cabinet.

“Fuck, look at you now, all fucked out you can barely stand, and I’m still not finished with you.” Her voice was so low and mean, her big hands rubbed at your flesh as she pulled your ass closer pressing against her hips. You mewled.

“Gonna give me what I want baby? I know how badly you want to..just as much as me.” You teased, looking at her over your shoulder.

“Shut up.”

You heard the clinks of her belt as she took off her pants, her strap bobbing out. You bit your lip at the sight, hoping she’d fill you and fuck you stupid.

She towered over you and sunk her strap into you. Your lips parted letting out a soft moan.

Sev groaned as she thrusted into you quickly, feeling how your cunt stretched for her. Low grunts left her lips, hands gripping at your hips, controlling your movements.

You pulled at her leash, her lips right at the nape of your neck. You looked into her eyes. “Don’t hold back on me now, my pussy feels so good doesn’t it baby? Tell me how good it feels.”

She moaned at how you spoke, “fuck.. yeah baby, feels so..fuckin’ good.. god I love your cunt.” She thrusted into you between her words.

“Fuck..pull it” she huffed.

Your stomach heated up at the demand. She fucking loved belonging to you. You pulled at her again, turning more towards her to kiss her roughly. You both were so fucking hungry for each other.

You kept your hold on the leash tightly, making sure she stays close you, free hand gripped at her thigh as she fucked into you harder and deeper.

“Don’t...fucking... stop.” You begged.

Sevika hunched over your back, cold metal hand on top of yours, grunting and huffing into your neck, she bit your shoulder making you groan in pain.

“You like takin’ this dick don’t you baby? Takin’ it so well f’me.” She groans.

“Mmh yesbabyyesss!” You cried. She gently pushed your head against the cabinet, cold hand gripped in your hair, cheek against the hard wood.

“Fuck, gonna cum baby, cum in this pretty cunt, fuck”

Your eyes fluttered back as her hips smacked against your ass, you drowned in the nasty squelches your cunt made. “Fill me baby, fill me, it’s yours so fuckin’ take it.” Your legs were about to give out any second, but all you could focus on was how Sev just filled you so good.

Sev brought her hand to your clit rubbing it in soft circles as she fucked you stupid. You let out soft pleas, lipstick and makeup smudged by tears.

“G-gonna cum in you pretty, cum on this dick, can you do that baby?”

“Yes baby yes, give it to me” You hassled.

Her grunts and your sweet moans and cries filled the room as she stuffed and fucked her cum into you. Your slick mixing with hers, Sevika pulled out of you and watched as her cum leaked out your throbbing cunt. You hummed in pleasure seeing it drip to the cold tiles.

“God, you fuck me so good ‘vika” You smiled uncoiling the leash from your hand and unleashing her.

“That’s my job gorgeous, finally got what you wanted? Satisfied?” She grinned adjusting her collar.

“Seems like you got what you wanted too Ms. ‘Pull it’.” You giggled.

“Alright alright, let’s run a bath, you can barely stand.” She lifted you and threw her over her shoulder.

You smiled and tucked her hair out of her face to see her grin as your feet swung in the air. Sev patted your ass while taking you upstairs, you both spoke about your fuck session.

“I didn’t know you had that dominance in you baby” Her eyebrows lifted with impression.

“I KNOW right?!? I definitely surprised myself, but it sure didn’t last long” you sighed, which made her laugh heartily.

♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎

💗a/n: Well there's Grip n’ Collar honey’s!! wrote this after noticing Sevs collar/choker that she had to wear while breaking in the prison (its so hot 🥲) This was proofread twice but if there are mistakes please forgive me! This is my first full fic im posting on here!! Many more to cum🙂‍↕️ still working on my subby sevika who gets fucked stupid, so stay tuned!! Hope this left you as wet as it made me 💗

[novacqnes]

✩ nights like this // sevika

⋆ summary: no coherent thoughts…just stressed councilmember!sevika coming home to you after a rough day.

⋆ warnings: a shit ton of sappiness & fluff, reader loving on sevika

⋆ pairing: sevika x fem reader

⋆ word count: 1.3k

embers of scarlet and coral smacked against the screen of the fireplace, silently stirring sevika from a trance. her head pounded against her skull, locking the rest of her body into place. now this sofa, cheaply made of leather and nylon, was her only comfort. fragments of light reflected off the glass windows, briefly illuminating the door right across from her. in its midst she could single out a you-shaped figure leaning against the doorway. small crescents adorned your eyes as you rubbed away the fatigue in them.

“come to bed,” you whispered, trudging towards her. you hit the sofa with a soft thud, pressing a light kiss to sevika’s soft lips.

she let out a low groan, snaking an arm around your waist, “not yet, go on without me.”

you nibbled on your lower lip, tilting your head to the side as you inspected sevika’s face. her features were tense, eyebrows drawn together with sharp, pensive lines decorating the space between them. her legs were fixed into the ground, boots still on, which was completely uncharacteristic of sevika. for a brief moment, her hazy grey eyes struck yours, they were gentle and radiant. it always amazed you just how hypnotic they could be. they revealed everything about this woman, but this time they weren’t brimming with intense sexual desire but a fervent need for comfort. 

“that bad?”

she shrugged, “something like that.” you waited for her to say more, but nothing else came. rather, you were greeted by an uncomfortable silence and the impossible task of trying to read her mind. her eyes flickered between the fire and your eyes, calling, screaming, pleading out to you so that there was no need for words. sevika’s body was rigid against yours; she looked as if she’d crawl from her own skin and right into the sofa. she detested this feeling. you couldn’t know. you couldn’t see. she needed to protect you. that’s what she told herself as images of the council and their disapproving glares riddled her mind. deeper and deeper, she became trapped within her own mind, leaving you with no option but to intervene. 

she felt your hands on her thighs first, slowly traveling down to her calves before reaching her boots. 

“let’s take these off,” you cooed. 

you started at the dark laces, pulling each one through the silver loops that decorated the sides. once this was done, you tugged them off sevika’s legs, exposing her fluffy rainbow socks. your lips perked up into a smile as your girlfriend quickly looked away, fighting to keep a straight face. it was progress, although you could see that she wasn’t fully comfortable, so you kept at it moving behind her.

you reached for her cloak, peering down at her for approval. “this okay?”

“mhmm….” sevika nodded, sinking further into the couch. she closed her eyes, humming lowly as the hairs on the back of her neck suddenly began to rise. sevika’s skin burned with each slight touch of your hands against her body. warm and hot with determination, you ran them across her smooth skin, moving to undress her in one quick beat. with the cloak tossed to the side, you peeled off her vest, shirt, and bra, leaving her exposed before you. you ran your palms over her sculpted chest, feeling the muscles tense underneath you.

“you’re with me, relax baby.”

she sighed, “i’m trying….i just hate bringing this shit home to you.”

you brought your hands to her face, rubbing your thumb along the scarred skin of her cheek. her eyes were reluctant at first, but you continued with a soft tone emanating from your voice, “look at me sevika, i’m okay. just let me take care of you.”

you moved the dark strands of hair from her face, eager to meet her eye. they were gorgeous. half-lidded and heavy, they were trained on your face, unwavering in spite of the fatigue that pulled on them. it was like a silent battle, a fight that you only saw slight glimpses of before, but sevika’s mask was cracking. in piltover she was utterly alone, and the mere thought of her shouldering that burden chewed at your soul. thus you moved your hands to sevika’s shoulders, desperate to be the support that she needed. once more you looked at her face for a response. silently she nodded, pressing a quick kiss to your jaw before leaning back. 

time slipped by as you undressed her, softly massaging her skin, freeing her from the strain that tore through her body. slowly her features grew more relaxed, shooting you small grins every once in a while as you worked. from the corner of your eyes, a bright halo and its golden rays peeked into your home through the window. half of the living room was illuminated with a faint yellow glow, making visible the antique table in the center of the room and the rest of sevika’s body.

“how’s this?” you hummed, massaging out the kinks in her neck.

she slurred, “perfect…i swear if i have to hear the word contingency agai—“ 

“you’re doing the best you can.”

sevika shook her head as you removed your hands from her shoulders. “it’s not enough. y/n you should see the look on some of their faces; it’s like they don’t even see me.” hurt, frustration, and anger, it spilled from her in one stifled breath. you moved swiftly to her side, cupping her hand in yours. the two of you sat in silence, caught in the sun’s warmth. 

“sev,” you began, “you’re one person, you can’t put that on yourself.”

“i have too,” she whispered, her voice small. sevika’s eyes stung, they begged her to close them and stumble into your bed, but her mind argued the opposite. doubt crept to the forefront of her brain, pervading her perceptions of herself. was she strong enough to do this? could she be enough for you? in the midst of the murky clouds there was no definite answer, and that tormented sevika beyond belief. she’d stayed up for hours, the allure of sleep looming over her as she clawed for an answer, desperately seeking it in the form of solitude.

“i’ll go with you to piltover.” 

her eyes widened, a sheepish grin taking hold of her face as sevika brought a hand to her mouth, “oh, you wouldn’t last a second.”

“what?” you sputtered, playfully smacking her hand away. “i’ll go everyday if i have too…i hate sleeping by myself.” 

she let out a low chuckle, snapping her neck towards the sunrise, taking in the bright, soft pink and yellow hues that fully lit up the room. sevika looked back towards you, her heart beaming with an intense longing and love for the person before her. she adored the way the colors merged with your skin, basking you in a warm glow of sunlight. it captured your beauty like no other, making your girlfriend fall even deeper for you. bare and exhausted, sevika yearned to pull you close. she wanted to feel your skin hot against hers as you floated into a deep slumber, fleeing the world and its worries for just a moment. this was her answer. 

“i love you so fucking much.”

“do you?” you teased, leaning in to place delicate kisses to the underside of her chin.

she nodded, “yeah baby, i do.”

you moved to her ear, allowing your breath to lightly tickle the sensitive skin, “then you know that you don’t owe anyone anything. not those council members. not even us zaunites. you can walk away, and i will love you all the same. i just want you happy.”

“this makes me happy,” sevika smiled, rising from the couch before quickly scooping you up in her arms. 

“good, let’s go to bed.”

[tipsynight0]

Kissing the creeps

Fem pov!

Characters - Jeff, clockwork, Toby.

Tw - slight nsfw? Nothing explicit.

Summary - lipstick and creeps <33

Word count - 2.1k

Author's note- I originally wanted to try writing headcanons since I've never done them before, but then this idea just kind of popped into my head and I couldn’t stop writing! Also, crazy new creepypasta characters unlocked in the Marcy Chronicles of Tumblr. This is my first time writing Clockwork, (and Toby too 😭). I did try, though! I'm not really sure what this is, but I hope you enjoy it! <33

(Y/N) had been meaning to show Clockwork the lip gloss for a while now. It had been sitting in her pocket since she nicked it from the corner store—a sticky-sweet reminder of her impatience. But between Clockwork's constant fixing and tinkering around the mansion, (Y/N) hadn’t found the right moment—until now.

From the porch, (Y/N) watched Clockwork under the car, her legs stretched out, grease smudging the worn denim of her jeans.

The white tank top clung to her back, stained with oil, and the way her hands moved—precise, confident—left (Y/N) a little mesmerized. The creeper squeaked when Clockwork shifted, her toned arms flexing as she twisted a wrench. (Y/N) couldn’t help but smirk, biting her lip before finally deciding to make her move.

(Y/N) approached quietly, the gravel crunching under her boots, and stopped just behind Clockwork's legs. She straddled her, one knee on either side of her hips. At first, Clockwork startled, pushing herself out from under the car with a quick shove, wrench gripped like a weapon.

When she realized it was (Y/N), her tense expression softened, and a crooked smile tugged at her lips.

“Well, look who decided to interrupt,” she grunted, eyes flicking up at (Y/N) through her messy hair. Grease smeared her cheek, and there was a streak along the side of her neck. She didn’t seem to notice, too busy letting her hands slide up (Y/N)'s thighs, the calloused tips of her fingers brushing over (Y/N)'s bare skin and leaving dark smudges behind.

“I’m trying to work, trouble,” she murmured, but her hands tightened on (Y/N)’s belt loops, tugging her closer until (Y/N)'s hips pressed against her stomach.

(Y/N) couldn’t help but grin, feeling a bit bolder than usual. She let her hands trail from Clockwork’s shoulders down her arms, tracing the veins on her forearms, still warm from the effort. Her fingers came away a little greasy, but she didn’t care. She twirled one of Clockwork’s curls around her finger, brushing it off her forehead.

“I found a new lip gloss,” (Y/N) said, her voice dropping to a whisper.

“Supposedly, it tastes like cotton candy.”

Clockwork hummed, the sound deep and approving. “That so?” One of her hands abandoned (Y/N)'s belt loop to skim up her side, sliding under the hem of (Y/N)'s shirt. The warmth of her palm on (Y/N)'s skin made her shiver. “Then let me taste.”

(Y/N) leaned down slowly, a little unsure, but when Clockwork’s hands guided her, their lips met. At first, it was just a brush—soft and hesitant. Clockwork tilted her head, and her mouth moved against (Y/N)’s with a bit more confidence. Her tongue traced (Y/N)'s bottom lip before she nipped at it, catching the faint taste of sugar.

(Y/N) couldn’t help the small gasp that slipped out, and Clockwork took advantage, kissing her deeper.

Clockwork’s lips were slightly chapped but warm, tasting like cigarettes and engine oil, mixing with the artificial sweetness of the gloss. Her other hand left (Y/N)'s hip to cup the back of (Y/N)’s neck, holding her there as she kissed her harder, like she was trying to drown herself in the taste.

When (Y/N) finally pulled back, her lips were tingling, their breaths mingling between them. Clockwork swiped her thumb over the corner of (Y/N)’s mouth, smearing some of the gloss across her cheek with a smirk. “Think I need more than that,” she murmured, dragging her thumb down to (Y/N)’s chin.

(Y/N) didn’t have time to respond before Clockwork tugged her down again, lips parting eagerly. This time, Clockwork’s hands roamed, fingertips grazing (Y/N)’s ribs, tracing her spine. (Y/N)’s own hands slid up into Clockwork’s hair, tugging just enough to make her groan into the kiss. (Y/N) could feel the grease on Clockwork’s skin, smearing as she dragged her closer, and the roughness of Clockwork’s hands made her pulse race.

Clockwork’s lips left (Y/N)’s for a moment, kissing the corner of her mouth before moving to her jaw, biting down lightly. “You taste good,” she muttered, and there was a slight awkwardness in her tone, like she was trying too hard to sound cool. It made (Y/N) laugh, and Clockwork huffed, nudging (Y/N)’s thigh with hers.

“Shut up,” Clockwork grumbled, but the way she kissed (Y/N) after was rougher, more determined, as if trying to distract (Y/N) from the flush creeping up her neck. (Y/N) let her, melting against her touch, fingers curling tighter in her hair as Clockwork’s mouth moved over hers with renewed intensity.

Toby was out in the backyard, the rhythmic sound of wood splitting filling the warm, sunlit air. His shirt was long gone, tossed aside earlier as the work became more taxing, leaving his toned chest bare and glistening with sweat. Each powerful swing of the hatchet made his muscles ripple under his flushed skin, his cargo pants hanging low on his hips, just barely clinging as he worked. The sunlight caught on the droplets running down his torso, tracing the curve of his abs and vanishing into the waistband.

He let out a grunt, pausing for a moment to catch his breath, his chest heaving. As he steadied himself, (y/n) approached from behind, unable to resist the sight in front of her. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she pressed her face against the warm, damp skin of his back, inhaling his earthy, slightly smoky scent. Toby didn’t startle—just grunted softly, acknowledging her presence, and drove the hatchet into the stump to free his hands.

He felt (y/n)’s lips against his back—soft, almost testing—before they pressed against his ribs. A shiver rolled through his body despite the heat. Confused, Toby furrowed his brow, cracking his neck as he tried to make sense of the sudden affection. A flicker of red caught his attention. “W-what are you d-doing?” he muttered, his voice rough and unsteady, another tick making him jerk his shoulder.

He glanced down at her lips, noticing the smudged crimson, and his pulse quickened. “A-are you b-bleeding?” he stammered, concern slipping into his tone.

(y/n) pulled back just enough for him to see the lipstick smeared across her mouth. Toby swallowed hard, his throat tightening as his eyes traced the color staining her skin. He licked his bottom lip absentmindedly, his gloved hand moving on its own to touch her mouth. “W-what’s that?” he whispered, voice dropping, his thumb dragging across her lower lip. (y/n) kissed his thumb, a playful gleam in her eyes, and guided his hand to her waist.

“Do you like it?” she asked in a low, sultry voice, leaning closer.

Toby’s breath hitched, his hands instinctively tightening on her hips, gloved fingers pressing into her curves. Her lips brushed his neck, slow and purposeful, tracing the vein that throbbed just beneath his skin. His heart pounded like a war drum, and his fingers twitched against her waist, another tick slipping past his control. “F-fuck,” he whispered, his head falling back as she kissed up the column of his throat.

His hips jerked forward as her lips continued to explore, pressing heated kisses down his chest, over the faint line of hair trailing from his navel to his waistband. He was barely holding on, his body betraying him with shivers and involuntary tics. His hands slid up into her hair, rough and eager, and a guttural noise left his throat. “B-baby... a-anyone could s-see us,” he mumbled, but his words lacked conviction, especially when his hips bucked toward her again, seeking friction.

(y/n) just smiled, trailing her hands down his sides, nails scraping lightly over his damp skin. Toby grunted, his face burning, trying to bite back a moan as her lips followed the path down his stomach. His chest was now covered in smeared lipstick marks—evidence of how thoroughly she was claiming him. Toby couldn’t help the way his hands gripped her hair tighter, his knees almost buckling as she kissed just above his waistband.

A sharp intake of breath escaped him, and he pulled her back, the intensity overwhelming, his eyes dark with frustration and need. “I-I swear, if you keep that up...” he growled, words cut off by a stuttered moan as she nipped at his hip bone. He couldn’t look at her without his pulse racing, couldn’t think straight with how hot his skin felt.

When she finally drew back, he glanced down at the faded lipstick on his chest, disappointment flickering in his gaze. “D-do you have more of that?” he asked, his voice rough with lingering desire.

(y/n) smirked and pulled the lipstick from her bra, holding it up to his flushed face. The way she looked at him—so smug and knowing—had his stomach tightening, his hands itching to drag her back and make her finish what she started.

The summer night wrapped around Jeff like a second skin as he slouched on the back porch, cigarette dangling from his lips. Shadows danced across his features, broken only by the glowing ember that brightened with each deep drag. His body radiated tension.

(Y/n) approached silently, drawn to him like a moth to flame. The wooden boards creaked beneath her feet, matching the thunder of her heartbeat. His foot tapped an impatient rhythm against the steps, the only sign he'd noticed her presence.

"I'm not in the fucking mood, (y/n)." His voice came out rough, sending shivers down her spine.

Instead of backing away, she leaned down, her breath ghosting across his face as she plucked the cigarette from his lips. Their eyes locked as she brought it to her mouth, taking a long, deliberate drag. His gaze dropped to her lips, watching as she exhaled slowly before returning the cigarette. Her fingers found their way into his dark hair, nails scraping gently against his scalp in the way that usually made him melt.

But tonight was different. His jaw clenched as he brought the cigarette back to his mouth, tasting the sweet cherry she'd left behind. "Didn't I fucking tell you not to wear that shit?" The words came out as a growl that made heat pool in her stomach.

She stepped down, positioning herself between his spread legs, using her height to look down at him. The air crackled between them. "What's your fucking problem?" Her voice came out breathy despite her attempt at anger. "You vanish all day and come back like this?"

His hand shot up, fingers gripping her chin and pulling her down until their faces were inches apart. His thumb smeared across her bottom lip, destroying her careful application of gloss. Before she could protest, he pushed his thumb past her lips, the pad rough against her tongue.

"Fucking taste it and tell me if you think I want that on my cigarette." Moonlight caught the dangerous glint in his eyes, making her pulse race. "I said fucking taste it," he demanded, voice dropping to a tone that made her knees weak.

She ran her tongue along his thumb, the artificial cherry mixing with the salt of his skin. His eyes darkened as he watched her, pupils blown wide with something more than anger.

In one fluid motion, he yanked her down onto his knee, the friction making her gasp.

A fresh cigarette appeared between his lips, flicking his zippo open, his hand found her jaw again, fingers pressing into sensitive skin as he tilted her head. When his mouth met hers, it wasn't gentle – it was pure need. Smoke rolled from his lips to hers as he claimed her mouth, his tongue following to chase away the sweetness.

She coughed softly but didn't pull away, her arms wrapping around his neck as she pressed closer, wanting more.

His hand slid to her throat, thumb finding her racing pulse. She could feel his smile against her lips as he pulled back just enough to speak, his voice a rough whisper that made her shiver. "Don't wear that shit again. You're beautiful without it."

[askoverkill]

more character design bits in case anyone else is interested

already wrote about bonnie here

and siffrin's is just a remix of a redesign i did a while back. i wanted to play with the monochrome contrast a lot!

loop is just 2hats fight breaking + red. not a lot needed to say here

and the director i already discussed in their reference sheet.

transcript below:

mirabelle:

"magical girl"/ fantasy hero protag with a side of serious

she's changed the least from canon so i didn't want the design to be much different.

headband to give off "rambo" vibes

bell because. MiraBELLe. also b/c Funny Noises Appreciation Crew

tear earrings b/c she likes tear shapes

gloves have vertical line to evoke her canon gloves but also: Amy Rose boots

-

odile:

"researcher"/ looking for the cure for zombie apoc

traditional gem flower pendent: hints to her herbalist science and ka bue

cracked glasses, can't get them fixed. classic post apoc thing

hair is shorter/messier to give off "busy" vibes but also to shake up her visuals in a noticeable way.

kimono inspired shirt with diamonds, again, ka bue imagery

trenchcoat gives lab coat vibe while still being rugged and practical for post apoc

also a lil bit: colombo detective

-

isabeau

"tough guy Fighter"/ zombie apoc survalist

overly large backpack gives off a fantasy vibe, because of how unrealistic that'd be to hold onto!

large backpack also gives post apoc travel vibes as well a show of his strength. SO STRONG!!!!

injured arm. all healing craft and potions go to siffrin, can't afford to use it on isabeau

bandana hides most of face -> hides his goofy expressions and makes him seem colder

bandaged hands telegraph fist fighting/ boxer vibes

bare arms to show off muscle

overall fashion is practical and boring. which sadly is very masculine.

he's hiding his love for fashion + puts up a tough shell

-

bonnie

"Kid playing dress up"/ "kid protag/ sidekick adventurer"

goggles are so kid protag vibes. very adventurous

also very post apoc. its a super common design element

beach hat replaced out of necessity.

likes the sky b/c they look up to siffrin still

oversized jacket is actually nile's shirt, taken as a back up

gas mask spells out the Cursed air thing quickly

also got a fantasy vibe to it, not something u see often

[lvnleah]

teen!reader req

maybe irish reader who is really quiet and no one can get her to talk/ go to team binding etc when she arrives bc she’s so nervous. katie stays clear abit bc she thinks she’ll overwhelm r with her noise/ more extroverted nature but when caitlin convinces her to give it a shot bc the normal quiet welcomers (kim etc) have all tried, everyone is shocked when r arrives to a team binding night laughing with katie. all it took was an irish accent and a bit of katie to feel at home <33

home from home | McFoord x teen!reader.

Arsenal had been welcoming, but that didn’t stop you from feeling like an outsider.

Since arriving, you’d kept to yourself.

You had arrived at the club two months ago, a promising young defender from Ireland, but no one had really gotten to know you yet. It wasn't for lack of trying, it was you were just quiet. Kim had sat beside you in the changing rooms, Lotte had invited you to sit with her at lunch, and Leah had even tried to engage you in a bit of tactical chat. 

Every time, you'd respond politely, a nod here, a small smile there, but never more than a few words.

You weren't rude, just... quiet. Nervous.

Overwhelmed and missing home.

Team bonding events were a lost cause, no matter how many times they tried to invite you. 

When invited, you always declined, murmuring something about needing rest or settling in. The team was friendly, overwhelmingly so, but it didn't make the sinking feeling in your stomach go away whenever you walked into a room full of people you didn't quite feel like you belonged with yet.

So, the team had mostly backed off, giving you space to come around in your own time.

That didn’t stop Caitlin from trying.

She was never pushy, just… there. Sitting next to you at lunch, giving you an encouraging pat on the back after drills, keeping you in the loop without expecting anything in return, always texting you to make sure you were doing okay. 

So when she caught up to you after training one day, Katie at her side, you weren’t too surprised.

“Hey,” Caitlin started, a warm smile on her face. “Me and Katie were wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner tonight?”

You hesitated immediately. “Oh—I don’t want to intrude—”

“You wouldn’t be,” Katie cut in, her voice softer than you expected. “We just thought it might be nice. No pressure, a home-cooked meal sounds nice don’t it?”

Caitlin nodded. “Just the three of us, no big group, no expectations. Just food and a bit of company.”

Something about the way she said it made your shoulders relax a little. They weren’t making this a big deal. They weren’t trying to fix you or force you into being more social. They were just offering a meal.

And, after a moment, you found yourself nodding. “…Alright. Yeah. That’d be nice.”

Katie grinned. “Grand. We’ll give you a lift back to ours after training, yeah?”

You nodded, “Yeah, that sounds good.”

After training, you found yourself in the backseat of Katie’s car, Caitlin in the passenger seat, the two of them bickering about what to cook for dinner.

“You’re not makin’ that weird pasta thing again,” Katie grumbled, eyes on the road.

Caitlin scoffed. “It’s not weird. It’s just got a bit of spice—”

“You nearly killed me last time. Yer’ stuck the whole bottle of spice in it!”

You bit back a smile. It was impossible not to be entertained by the two of them.

Katie glanced at you in the rearview mirror, catching the amused look on your face. “Yer backin’ me up here ain’t ya?”

You hesitated, then shrugged. “Not a fan of spicy food.”

Katie grinned triumphantly. “See? Yer’ outnumbered, babe.”

Caitlin sighed, defeated. “Fine. No spice.” Then she turned in her seat to face you, her expression warm. “But next time, we’re easing you in.”

Next time.

Something about that made your chest feel a little lighter.

Their house was warm, and cluttered in a way that made it feel lived in. Different from your apartment. A few pairs of boots by the door, jackets thrown over chairs, and a mug left on the counter that Katie tutted at before putting it in the sink.

“Make yourself at home,” Caitlin said, motioning to the couch. “Our cat, Coopurr, might be wandering around.”

You hovered for a second before lowering yourself onto the couch, hands resting awkwardly in your lap. The place felt comfortable, like a real home. The smell of whatever Caitlin and Katie were cooking was already starting to fill the air, and the faint sound of music played from a speaker in the kitchen.

A small thump caught your attention, and a moment later, a cat padded into the room. He sat a few feet away, tail flicking lazily as he studied you.

“That’s Coopurr,” Caitlin said, peeking her head around the kitchen doorway. “He’s friendly, just a bit nosy.”

Katie snorted. “Bit nosy? He’s the most judgmental cat in the world.”

You huffed out a quiet laugh as Coopurr approached, sniffing curiously at your shoes before hopping onto the couch beside you. He headbutted your arm, demanding attention, and without thinking, you reached out to scratch behind his ears.

Katie, passing by with a bottle of water in hand, smirked. “Well, he likes ya! That’s a good sign.”

You glanced down at the purring cat, warmth settling in your chest. “Guess so.”

Dinner was easy. You weren’t used to that. Social settings usually made you feel on edge, but here, with Katie and Caitlin, it didn’t feel like you had to try so hard.

Caitlin kept the conversation light, asking about little things. How you were settling in, what part of Ireland you were from if you had any family nearby. And Katie, despite her usual boldness, was gentle with you in a way you hadn’t expected.

“So yer’ telling me you don’t drink any Barry’s Tea?” she asked, scandalized.

You shrugged, suppressing a grin. “Not really, not the biggest fan.”

Katie gasped dramatically, looking at Caitlin. “We can’t be associatin’ with her.”

Caitlin rolled her eyes, but you could tell she was holding back a laugh. “Ignore her. She’s just bitter that you don’t share her obsession.”

Katie huffed, crossing her arms. “You’ll come around.”

You didn’t argue.

Because, honestly? Maybe you would.

After dinner, Caitlin nudged you lightly as the three of you relaxed on the sofa. “The team’s getting together tomorrow night. Just something casual, team bonding and all that.”

You tensed slightly, and Katie jumped in.

“You don’t have to come,” she said, voice softer than before. “But if you wanted to, you could come with us.”

Caitlin nodded. “No pressure, just thought it might be easier going with us rather than walking in on your own.”

You hesitated.

Team bonding sounded terrifying. The idea of walking into a room full of people, all eyes on you, waiting for you to talk? It made your stomach twist.

But going with them?

That didn’t seem so bad.

“…Yeah,” you found yourself saying. “I think I’d like that.”

Katie beamed. “Grand. Yer’ gonna love it.”

As the night stretched on, the warmth of their home, of them, started to seep into your bones. You hadn’t even realized how much you’d missed this, the simple comfort of just being with people.

You didn’t mean to stay so late.

But one moment you were sitting on the couch, Coopurr curled up in your lap, listening to Caitlin and Katie argue over the rules of some ridiculous Australian game Caitlin had grown up playing. And the next, you were blinking sleepily at the clock on the wall, realizing how late it had gotten.

Katie noticed first. “Oi, you’re half asleep over there.”

You straightened up a little, rubbing at your eyes. “I should probably get going—”

Caitlin frowned. “It’s late. You can just crash here if you want.”

“Oh…I don’t want to be a bother—”

Katie waved you off before you could finish. “You’re not. We’ve got a spare room, or you can take the couch if ya want. Coopurr’s clearly claimed ya already.”

You glanced down at the cat, still curled up in your lap, his slow, steady breathing matching the rhythmic hum of his purring. He’d made himself comfortable, and moving him now almost felt cruel.

Caitlin caught the hesitation in your expression. “Just stay. It’s no big deal, we can swing by your place in the morning to grab some of your bits for training.”

And maybe it should have felt like a big deal, but it didn’t. It felt… easy. Natural.

“…Alright,” you murmured, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Just for the night.”

Katie grinned. “Good. Now come on, we’ll get you sorted.”

The spare room was small but cosy. The bed was already made up, and Caitlin tossed you a spare t-shirt and a pair of shorts to sleep in before retreating to her and Katie’s own room.

You sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, taking in the quiet. It had been a long time since you’d felt this kind of comfort, this kind of belonging.

A knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts.

Katie poked her head in, already dressed for bed, her hair a little messier than before. “Yer alright?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Thanks for letting me stay.”

Katie just shrugged, like it was the easiest thing in the world. “That’s what teammates are for.”

And maybe, for the first time since joining Arsenal, you actually felt like one.

The next morning you woke up to chatter and music playing from the kitchen, something that your flat never brought. You lingered in bed for a moment, listening to the easy back-and-forth of Caitlin and Katie’s voices, the clatter of dishes, the occasional meow from Coopurr. 

It was something you didn’t know you needed. 

Eventually, you pulled yourself out of bed, stretching as you padded towards the kitchen. The smell of coffee hit you first, then the sight of Katie standing at the stove, flipping pancakes with an ease that suggested this was a regular occurrence. Caitlin leaned against the counter, mug in hand, watching her with an amused expression.

“Mornin’,” Katie greeted without turning around. “Sleep alright?”

You nodded, rubbing at your eyes. “Yeah, thanks.”

Caitlin slid a fresh mug of coffee across the counter toward you. “Figured you’d need this.”

You took it gratefully, wrapping your hands around the warm ceramic. “You guys always up this early?”

Katie snorted. “Nah, but someone…” she jerked her head toward Caitlin “wanted to be ‘productive’ today.”

Caitlin shrugged, unbothered. “You say that like I didn’t catch you watching cat videos at 6 a.m.”

Katie shot her a glare but didn’t argue, making Caitlin smirk. You hid your own smile behind a sip of coffee.

The rest of the day passed in a bit of a blurb. Katie and Caitlin stopped by your flat for you to grab a few things before training before you headed to the training ground. 

Training felt the best it had in a while. You didn’t feel as anxious about talking to everyone and things felt lighter. You laughed and joined in a lot more, much to everyone’s surprise. You were never too far behind Katie or Caitlin though. 

When training wrapped up, you found yourself heading back to Katie and Caitlin’s house. You chilled a couple of hours before getting ready and heading to the team bonding night. 

“Yer’ alright?” Katie asked, nudging your arm lightly as you walked to the restaurant.

You nodded, though your stomach churned. “Yeah. Just… not great with this kind of thing.”

Caitlin gave you an encouraging smile. “You’ll be fine. And if you wanna leave early, we’ll go with you.”

You followed them into the restaurant where the rest of the team had already gathered. The second you stepped inside, conversations faltered, heads turning in your direction.

You froze under the weight of their stares.

“Holy shit,” Beth muttered, eyes wide as Steph elbowed her side. “Ow! What was that for?” She said, getting a glare from Steph.

Kim was the first to say hello. A warm smile spread across her face as she pulled out the chair beside her. “Glad you could make it, y/n.”

You hesitated, feeling the weight of everyone’s surprise, but Caitlin’s hand landed on your back in a reassuring pat as you mumbled a little “Hi.”

Katie, completely unbothered by the attention, just smirked. “What? Thought we kidnapped her or somethin’?”

The team chuckled, and slowly, the initial shock faded.

You slid into the seat Kim had offered, hands resting in your lap. Conversation resumed around you, but it wasn’t as overwhelming as you’d feared.

No one pushed, no one bombarded you with questions and, after a while, you started to relax.

Katie and Caitlin kept you engaged, making sure you never felt out of place, and even when they weren’t speaking directly to you, their presence was enough to ground you.

At one point, Kyra slid into the seat across from you, a teasing glint in her eyes. “So, what’d they bribe you with?”

You huffed a quiet laugh, surprising even yourself. “Just dinner. And a judgmental cat.”

Kyra smirked. “Coopurr? Yeah, he’s got high standards.”

That made you smile and as the night stretched on, you realized something.

Maybe Arsenal was starting to feel like home.