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nameless-flame · 11 months

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RoR gods reactions to you calling Poseidon a 💅Drama Queen💅

RoR and fem!Reader crack below the cut

Seated along the round table, various prominent figures of each pantheon waited, some more patiently than others, for the mortal standing before them to reveal what she had summoned them for.

[Name] cleared her throat, putting an end to the idle chatter that had previously filled the walls of the old-fashioned conference room. "I have called you to this meeting to discuss a matter of utmost importance."

Shiva rolled his neck, allowing his eyes to freely wander between the faces of the gods – all deemed to be high figures in their respective pantheon – some even belonging to the same one. And yet, there was one man missing.

Leaning his chair back, the God of Destruction balanced himself with two hands holding onto the edge of the table, whilst his remaining two rested behind his head. "Where's that sea deity?"

Shooting a glare in Shiva’s direction, [Name] resumed talking. “If you had not so rudely interrupted me you would have known why.”

The blue man merely rolled his eyes. He had long before grown used to her more… unmannerly way of addressing them. Her disrespectful attitude had at first irked him, and many other deities, but eventually whatever ill feelings they initially harboured toward her soon evolved into intrigue, and later friendship. Some even more than that.

Seeing how the god had not argued back, the human continued. "As for why Sea Boy isn’t here with us today, I didn’t invite him.”

Hades’ brows flickered and he paused his chess match with Zeus. “I presume this meeting concerns my brother?”

[Name] gave the God of the Underworld a curt nod. “I’ll just get straight to the point so to not further waste our time. Can we all come to common agreement that Poseidon is the biggest drama queen in history?"

Hades didn’t know what was more worrisome; her odd exclaim, or the fact that no one had so much as reacted to it. Have things like this truly become the norm?

Most eyes darted to Apollo, and then lingered there, before returning to her, obviously questioning her statement. However, [Name] did not yield under their distrustful stares but continued speaking without any less conviction. "Yes, sure. Some might argue that the twink has some dramatic traits as well."

Apollo craned his neck in her direction, no longer staring in the reflection of his hand mirror. "Why are we listening to her, again?"

“Because they’d rather be here than at one more of your lame parties.” Apollo furrowed his brows, but ultimately decided to just massage the tense muscles of his temples, not desiring to start a fruitless dispute with her.

“But we are not here to talk about Apollo, but Poseidon – the biggest drama queen I have ever encountered in my entire life.”

Beelzebub sighed, tapping his foot impatiently against the marble floor. He just wanted to return to his research. “How did you even come to such an irrational conclusion?”

Standing tall, [Name] placed her hands on her hips. “Irrational? Do you guys truly not see it?” Blank stares were shot in her direction, only Heracles and Ares had the decency to shake their heads.

“Well then, allow me to provide you with an example; If a fly were to land on that drama queen’s shoulder, he would not hesitate to drown all their villages, slaughter their children, and then feed their corpses to the nearest animal.”

Loki snickered, obviously finding some amusement in what he deemed to be an exaggerated story. [Name] ignored him and continued. “And then, to truly top it off, after exterminating an entire species he would just act as normal, as if his reaction was more than justifiable.”

“She does have a point,” the serene voice of Aphrodite spoke. “Poseidon’s reactions do tend to be quite… overbearing at times.”

[Name] dragged a hand through her hair in hope that the motion would soothe her racing mind. “And I know this to be true because that fly is a metaphor for us humans. I literally bumped into him just the other day, and this bitch-”

A warning glare from Hades.

“This very fine gentleman acted like I gave him the bubonic plague.” Loki and Shiva broke into a fit of laughter. The Hindu god even toppled off his chair, but that didn’t seem to encourage him from continuously laughing his ass off.

[Name] rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, continue howling all day long you buffoons, but I think I singlehandedly made him wish for a second Ragnarok.” This only made the duo double over, trying to choose between drying their tears or holding their stomachs. It was a good day for Shiva to have four arms.

Hermes, however, coaxed his brows. “Do you mean to tell us that you came in contact with Lord Poseidon without invoking his wrath?”

[Name] cocked her head to the side. “Didn’t I just tell you that he looked like he wanted to pierce me into a shish kebab?”

Hades moved his king one square forward on the chessboard, the slight click when the piece hit the wood gaining her attention. “That is not what he meant, my dear. If our brother is truly angry, he will not hesitate to kill whoever is around him. The fact that you are still alive indicates that he had no desire of ending your life.”

Odin nodded from the seat beside his son, who was staring out of the window, wishing for this conversation to come to an end.

"This!” [Name]’s sudden outburst caught the attention of everyone in the room, including the socially withdrawn God of Thunder. “This is what I mean when I call him dramatic! You have just grown used to his actions. Look, I don't mind his exaggerated reactions, but he needs a bit of variation.”

[Name] began pacing around the room, her back straight and chin held high, while holding a stick in her hand. Where did she even get that?

“Someone breathes the same air as me? Dead.” Everyone’s eyes widened.

She was imitating Poseidon.

“Someone accidentally steps on my foot? Dead. Someone has the audacity to look me straight in the eye? Dead.” She stopped and heaved a heavy sigh, “Like, come on. Try something new for once, please."

Zeus stroked his long beard. "Wait, let me get this straight. You mean to tell us that your problem with Poseidon is not his behaviour, but that it has grown old?"

[Name] slammed her hands against the table, making the glasses along the wine bottles on it shake with the sudden force. “Yes!”

“This meeting is over.” Hades declared, already walking away. It did not take long for the other deities to follow him, Loki and Shiva needing to crawl out from all their excessive laughing.

“Fine, go! But don’t come crying to me when you guys realize I was right!”

“We won’t,” cooed Zeus.

…

“Hades?”

“Yes, Zeus?”

The King of the Gods blinked, not believing his eyes. “Why is Poseidon drowning that entire meadow?”

Before the two deities stood their brother, sending wave after wave into a beautiful landscape of green hills and the most gorgeous of flowers.

Hades sighed, running a hand through his white hair. “To kill the flies.”

Zeus turned his head to his brother, already dreading his next answer. “Why?”

The King of the Underworld gulped, cursing that mortal for how correct she had been. “Because a fly had landed on his shoulder.”

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sawyerslvt · 6 months

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Bubba's First Time (Leatherface- TCM)

Summary: You get kidnapped by Johnny Slaughter at a bar and he brings you home to kill you. Leatherface ends up protecting you. To express your gratitude, you let him use you for his pleasure. Word Count: 4,105 Warnings: MDNI, coercion, rough sex, smut

You’re screaming, flailing your arms around and fighting for your life as you get pulled inside the house. It was the dead of night and your kidnapper drove a long way to get here. You know your screams get lost in the darkness of the night, with not a soul nearby to hear your pleading cries.

“I found me a real pretty one huh, old man?”. The man is speaking to an older man. “Quit your playing round’ boy! Get it over with, supper's ready”. The old man doesn't seem amused and you're yanked away towards a staircase leading to a basement. Before the man forces you down the steps, your eyes get drawn to a room. It had a dining table in the middle, food already placed and ready on the table. In one of the chairs sat a large man. He wore a strange looking mask, both elbows on the edge of the table with cutlery in each hand, ready to dig into his meal. You manage to make eye contact with him, knowing there is not much he could do for you. For all you knew, he could be a fate worse than what you were about to face in this basement.

You look at him with your tearfilled, makeup smeared and terrified face. With the short seconds you got to share with the beast, you noticed a strange look on his face. His face looked softened, his muscles relaxed and his eyes looked intrigued by your desperate state. He tilts his head and you can't help but feed yourself delusions, was it pity… or sympathy?

The man tugs at you and you lose sight of the beast, hidden behind the walls. While being dragged down the stairs, his face was scarred into your mind. Your cries get more frantic, movements more hysterical but the man doesn't budge and you're met with a heavy slide door that leads down to the basement.

Not much time passes before you're hooked with your tied wrists to the ceiling. “Stay still. This will only hurt for a minute”, the man wears a smug smirk and his voice has hints of mockery. You can tell this amuses him. You've run dry on tears and energy to fight back, so your response to his demand was a mere defeated bow of the head. The man lifts his knife to your throat but before he is able to slice, the same slide door reopens and the beast is stood by the entrance.

“I'm almost done here, boy. I'll be up in a second”, his voice now irritated by the interruption. The beast takes heavy and confident stomps towards the two of you while letting out deep grunts. He halts in front of the man, still holding a knife to your throat. He finally lowers his knife and you feel it nick you, drawing some blood. “What's the matter with you, boy?!” the man snaps. The beast gets closer to him as if to intimidate him, or at the very least, making himself clear of his intentions without using his words. He gets in front of your hanging body, blocking and getting between you and the man wanting to kill you. “Oh I see, you want her to yourself?”. The beast nods and you're confused by the strange interaction. Other than the weird display and protection from the beast, you're left feeling eternally thankful for him saving your life. You're not sure how long the luck will last but for the moment, you let out a sigh of relief.

“I'll leave for you to take care of her after dinner. Let's go before the old man makes a fuss”. The man heads up the stairs but before the brute follows along, he walks over to you. He is looking up at your exhausted expression and you manage to make eye contact. He was wearing the same expression from earlier… It was kind. He lays his large hands on either side of your waist and unhooks you from the ceiling. Although he had rough and large hands, his touch was soft and movement gentle. He slowly brings you down to the floor and you feel like a feather the way your feet were carefully placed onto the cold stone surface.

He continues holding your waist while you're drowned into each other's eyes. “...thank you”. You finally break the silence. Your voice is soft and quiet, like the squeak of a mouse. He lets out a low grunt and to your surprise pulls you in for a hug. Your eyes widen at the suddenness of it all, he didn't say anything, he keeps you in his arms and gives you a squeeze almost as an apology for what you've been through. That's how you interpreted it, and you let him hold you as you’re absorbing his warm apology. All too soon, his warmth is gone and as he walks away and shuts the sliding door behind him. You're left missing his touch.

After what felt like ages, you hear the sliding door open back up and your heart skips a beat, scared it might be your kidnapper. You feel a wave of relief hit as you’re met with the large figure of the gentle giant. You hadn't moved much since he had left. With your time in solitude, you were thinking of ways you could thank him and as the man was walking towards you, your thoughts grew wilder. You’re sitting on your feet with your hands on your thighs, looking up at him towering over you. You look like a dog greeting its owner. As if he read your mind, he rests one of his large hands on your head, petting you as he admires your beauty. You lean into his touch and it feels good to feel something other than fear For once, you feel safe.

You slowly make your way back on your feet, all while never breaking the alluring eye contact. Your hands travel up his body as you stand up but his body seems somewhat stiff, confused- but not complaining. “I wanted to thank you for saving my life”. Your voice is sensual and very suggestive. As your hands make your way to his big bulge, you feel him get stiffer but this time he also pulls away with a disapproving groan. He looks down and shakes his head slightly. "It's okay… I just want to express my gratitude”. Your voice is gentle as you reach for his bulge again, now growing due to your touch. Once again he hesitates and pulls away with the same disapproving grunt.

The room you're in had a mattress leaned up against the wall. It had some signs of usage in the form of mysterious spots and holes, but given your situation, you didn't think too much of it. You pull on it, making it fall to the ground with a thud, letting some dirt and dust fly into the air. The giant watches you curiously as you prop its edges parallel to the wall. You turn around and watch him still standing behind you. You scoot over to sit on the mattress with your back leaned against the wall, hands resting on either side of you. You look up at him as you tilt your head and smirk slightly. You’re spreading your legs slowly, letting your skirt reveal your panties to the man in front of you. He looks completely stunned but you can tell he doesn't want you to stop what you're doing. “Just watch me then”. Your words escape you somewhat desperately as your attraction to the beast grows like an uncontrollable virus.

You let your hand find its way to your aching clit over your already soaked panties. You slide your panties off of you and leave your wet slit exposed to the air. You feel your spine arch and head shoot back as your fingers come in contact with your nub. You start to slowly rub your clit and move your hips in circles while making sure your legs stay spread for the man to have the best view possible. As you pleasure yourself, you have your eyes shut focusing on the stimulation, until you hear the man grunt and move around. You bring your head back and see him kneeled down at the end of the mattress. He continues letting deep groans escape his throat and he inches closer to you on all fours, slowly, and without breaking eye contact. You watch as the giant is moving towards you, his big body casting a dark shadow over you, making you feel smaller than you've ever felt. His eyes narrowed like he was finally seeing you as the prey you were meant to be. You rub your clit harder, as the view of him in this position made it impossible to tame your wild mind.

He stops right in front of you as he watches you pleasure yourself, licking his lips as if he was tasting your sweet pussy. You can't handle his lack of action so you grab his hand. He's confused by your touch but curious about you, allowing you to hold it. You hold onto his hand and start pulling it down to your pussy. You feel him protest and pull back again. "It's okay… you saw how I did it? Just do as I showed you and you’ll be fine” you try convincing and swaying his opinion with your gentle and sensual voice. You pull his hand but once again, he tries pulling away. “Look, I'll help you. Just please… I want you to touch me”, your voice is desperate and you want his long and thick fingers to fill your tight pussy.

You consider him defeated as you feel his hand soften. You pull his hands towards your sensitive cunt for the third time and this time he allows you. You wrap your whole hand around his middle and index finger. His hands were so big and that's all you could really fit in your small grasp. You bring his hand closer until you feel his rough fingertips come in contact with your clit. Both of you let out a gasp as a result of the contact. You use his fingers to rub your nub and fuck, it felt so much better than your own fingers. You continue rubbing harder and faster and the beast's wonderful grunts fill your ears as if he was feeling pleasure himself.

Without any direction from you, the beast unexpectedly pushes his index and middle finger into your hole. You let out a loud moan, making your own ears bleed. He doesn't understand what he's done but your reaction was something he was starting to get addicted to. He pulls his fingers back out and you hold his wrists, pulling on them to let him know that you wanted more. He pushes them back in, this time a little harder and you let out the same moan. You feel as the beast goes from hesitant and held back to him becoming progressively hungrier in his movements. He forces his big fingers into your hole, abusing it and you encourage him with your hysteric cries. He sees your white cream coat his fingers, confused by it, he brings it to his mouth and tastes your juices. You see his eyes widen as he's tasting you, licking his fingers clean before sticking them back into you to coat his fingers again, then licking them clean again.

He continues doing this many times until he realizes the best way to get the most of you was to bring his mouth to it. And that's exactly what he does, he lets his mouth find your pussy and immediately starts licking. He starts by giving you small licks, but the more he tastes you, the bigger the licks get. Until he finally started sucking as much of the juice as he could. He uses his hands to spread your pussy lips and sees your red and swollen clit stand out. Curious by it, he sucks on it and hears as your moans get as intense as ever. You grab his hair with both your hands and pull a little. That was all the signs he needed, now he was laser-focusing on your clit. He’s obsessed with your reactions and he sucks hard, he licks fast and sucks even more. “ff-ffuck mm gonna cum, please”. Your words escape in a broken scream but the beast doesn't stop. You feel your walls tighten and you cum in his mouth. He shows no signs of stopping and once he sees even more white cream leak out of your pussy, he licks it all clean. He shoves his tongue as deep as he can to taste as much of your sweet pussy as possible. You taste so good, he could never get enough and you moan loud as his tongue explores the inside of your sensitive hole.

His mouth is killing you. The air is heavy and the scent of your wet cunt is filling the room, making him lick his lips again. Once he calms down you pull away from him, knowing he could stay between your legs for hours. You position yourself to sit back on your feet. You touch his bulge again and he watches you, giving you groans of approval. You start stroking the outside of his pants. He was already hard but you could tell it wasnt to its full potential, yet it felt massive. You subconsciously take a gulp, anticipating and preparing yourself for his big size as you pull his pants and underwear down at the same time.

When his cock was fully exposed to you, you found yourself floored by his enormous size. Not only was it long, but the real shock was the thickness and girth of it. You've never seen anything comparable, just staring at it made your pussy throb. You can tell he’s fully confused by what you're doing, he has no idea about the purpose of the thing between his legs. “I wont touch it if you don't want me to. But can I please watch as you stroke it?”. Your plea is desperate and you're begging the gods above to have him accept your prayer. He looks down and a deep grunt escapes his throat and you can tell he’s confused by your request. He looks into your eyes as if to say ‘how?’ and you let a small giggle escape your lips. Has he really never done it before?

“Alright big boy, I'll show you how”. You give him a comforting smile, showing that you're not judging him. If anything, this made it even better. You grab one of his hands again and wrap it around his own dick. You see him grasping his cock and you can't help but bite your lip, being presented with the sight of his big hand wrapped around his big cock. You hold his hand with both of your hands and start to slowly stroke alongside his shaft, up and down. The skin on his cock moving with your rhythm, massaging his member. He looks into your eyes and his breathing gets heavy. Once he gets into the rhythm you created for him, you let go all together.

He continues stroking his cock, up and down, just like you showed him. “There you go, honey”. You see his eyes narrow and fill with hunger. He starts experimenting with different speeds at his own pace and you feel proud of him. You lean back towards the wall and spread your legs. You lick your fingers while looking into his eyes and bring your fingers back to your aching clit. You resume playing with your pussy and for the moment you sit in front of each other, both of you pleasuring yourselves as you watch each other. The beast gets more and more aggressive, the new sensation had him hooked and his movements were desperate. As he’s breathlessly stroking his cock, you grab his wrist with your hand, canceling his motion. He looks at you with lust filled eyes, excited for your next move.

You remove his hand from his dick and replace it with both your hands. You squeeze it in between your hands and admire his full size, it was beautiful but intimidating. You're stroking his cock and you feel it twitch as you move up and down, twisting, pulling and massaging it. Occasionally, you let your soft fingers circle around his tip, giving him an unreal sensation. The beast lets out groans like you've never heard before… but you weren't done here. You feel your aching and neglected cunt scream and beg to be filled. You decide it's time to finally give her what she wanted.

You pull on his shirt and direct his back to lay against the wall. You spread your legs and hover your opening over his cock as you rest your hands on his broad and strong shoulders. He holds your waist with both hands as he watches you grab his cock and align it with your entrance. Without giving him any time to prepare for you, you sink down on his cock. Both of you release loud gasps as you’re shocked by how well his tip alone filled you, and as he feels your warm and slippery insides. You don't go all the way down, you can't go all the way down but you continue bouncing up and down his tip, getting yourself wetter and slowly stretching yourself out for him. He lets out deep groans and you love how he's letting you know exactly how he feels. As you let your entrance play with his tip you take off your shirt. He looks at your tits and you see his eyes widen. You giggle a little to yourself and guide both his hands to play with your nipples. He gets the hang of it immediately and squeezes and pulls on your nipples. He didn't know what it felt like to you but by the way you moaned louder, he knew he had to continue doing it.

You hear the brute let out a frustrated groan, he's growing impatient with you teasing his tip and wanting to feel you all through his length. You let out a loud moan, bordering on a scream and he forces you to sit on his cock. You look into his eyes with your mouth agape, surprised by his action. You're not nearly ready for his full length and girth but he doesn't care. He pushes you all the way on his cock, forcing himself deep inside you. You feel your eyes roll to the back of your head and you go silent for a moment, trying to adjust to his size. He slowly pulls out, veeerryyy sloowwwllyyy and you feel every single inch of him as he's exiting your tight little pussy. With only a small bit of his tip still inside you, he thrusts back into you, hard and quick. You let out another scream and he lets out a deep grunt.

After a couple pumps, he starts getting more consistent and regular with his thrusts. You're amazed by how naturally it came to him. You’re hovering over him and he forcefully bucks his hips into you, sliding in and out as the sounds of skin slapping echoes in the empty basement. “fuckkk, just like that. You're doing so good”, your voice is weak and breathless but he had to know how good this felt, how good he felt. He lets his hips rest back on the mattress and you sit all the way down on his dick. You feel full of him, his girth pressing against your tight insides. You move around a little and cup his face with your hands. He's still wearing that mask but all you see are his stunning eyes and beautiful lips. You can tell they're soft.

As his cock is buried deep inside you, you lean in and kiss him. He's shocked and doesn't know what to do. He keeps his eyes open as he kisses you, but after seeing your closed eyes, he shuts them as well. He places his hands on your hips, squeezing it, feeling your tight pussy throb around his cock. He gets into the rhythm and you feel each other’s soft lips play with each other. You press into his face while still cupping it, your kiss gets increasingly more desperate as you start sliding up and down on his cock again. You continue riding his dick at a brutal pace, going faster and harder by the second. He helps you by pushing you down further everytime you bounce back up. You introduce your tongue to his mouth and he welcomes it, sucking and swirling it around his mouth.

You break the kiss and press your forehead to his, not slowing down from the bouncing on his cock. “I'm so proud of you, big boy”. You smile and you look down on the base of his shaft being completely drenched with your pussy juice, and his cock pounding in and out of your soaked cunt. The pitch black hair around his balls being white because of your white cream coating it. The wet and sloppy sounds of his dick thrusting in you is filling the room, you're surprised by how it's still audible over both of your moaning, screaming and panting. The way he's pounding into you makes you question his virginity, you don't believe it, there is no way. His eyes are too confident, his thrusts are too perfect and his dick is way too good.

He lifts you up from his cock and it makes a quiet ‘pop’ sound as his dick gets released from your pussy’s tight grip. He lays you down on the mattress and climbs on top of you. You can tell that he now knows what sex is, he knows exactly how to do it and you smile to yourself thinking of how the student has become the teacher. He slides his hands under your knee crease and let your legs fall over his broad shoulders. This way, he had a perfect view of your face as he pounds into you. He aligns his cock with your entrance and gives you a quick peck on the lips to prepare you for his cock. You smile at him, letting him know you're ready and you feel like you're about to burst. Every second without his cock inside you, was a second too long.

The beast didn't believe in slow and steady. He wanted rough and hard and that's exactly how he entered you. As he forces his cock into you, you're shocked by how much deeper he could get from this position. You didn't know the female body could have something this deep inside her but you learn something new everyday… You lay your hands on his chest as he pounds into you and you feel your walls tighten. “F-fucckkk…I-mmm… Imma cum!!!” You can hardly breathe, let alone talk as he's deep inside you. He's making up for years of not feeling this sensation. He’s furious this feeling has been kept from him and he's channeling all that frustration into drilling his cock harder into you. You feel his cock twitch and you can tell he’s close as well. Even though he doesn't say it, you're slowly learning what his different grunts mean. The ones he's letting out right now definitely meant ‘I’m gonna cum in your tight pussy’.

He lets out one last deep groan as he fills your pussy with his warm liquid. Continuing to pump into you to empty every single drop of himself. You moan so loud, it made your head spin and feeling his cum shoot deep inside you was a feeling unlike anything you've felt before. He slowly pulls out and you feel as the mixture of both your cum is leaking out of your abused hole. He watches as you squirm and shake from the trauma of the intense pleasure.

He lays down next to you and you get on top of him, resting your ear to his chest, listening to his fast and irregular heartbeat. You hug his massive body and close your eyes. You lay in silence for a while, catching your breaths and soaking in each other's presence. You look up at him, giving him a passionate and soft kiss. “Thank you for saving my life”.

credit for dividers: @y-onb @animatedglittergraphics-n-more @roseschoices <3

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hazbinshusk · 2 months

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okay so this one could be a shot in the dark…. but maybe blitz catches some sort of flu that isn’t awful, but it’s bad enough that he should stay home, and reader has to practically pull him away from the door so that he doesn’t go to work -🕰️

🕰️ anon back again with another sweet request. combined with a kiss prompt because they tickled my brain together.

prompt #40: an impulsive kiss.

“For fuck’s sake, Blitz, go back to bed.” you groan, getting up from where you were sitting cross-legged on the floor. The imp has clambered up off the couch, stumbling and swearing as the blankets you’d heaped on him tangled around his legs. He lands face down on the floor, cursing into the carpet. “Fucking… damn it, Blitz!”

You grab his arm and haul him to his feet, far gentler than your tone would have suggested. He shoves you off, only to fall into a fit of overly-dramatic sneezes. Rolling your eyes, you lead him back to the couch and force him back down onto it.

Loona had texted you early that morning to ask you to keep an eye on the imp – he was out with some kind of flu, and with work piling up at the office, she was needed to use the grimoire. You, on the other hand… Moxxie and Millie could handle it without you.

“’m fuckin’ find,” Blitzø gripes, shaking off your arm.

“Uh-huh,” you reply dryly, handing him the cold medicine you’d brought with you. “Clearly, if you’re pronouncing it ‘find’.”

He glares at you, refusing to accept the bottle. You roll your eyes again, setting the medication aside. “The fuck are you here for?”

“Because Loona asked me to be,” you say simply, sitting on the coffee table in front of him. “Now, will you get some rest? Please?”

Blitzø stares blankly at you for a few moments before he blinks and shakes his head. “I gotta go to work.”

Before you can react, he’s clambering over the back of the couch, and you sigh as his foot catches on his tail and he falls back onto the floor with a thump. How the same man you’ve seen effortlessly slaughter how many humans now could be so damn clumsy in his own home, you have no goddamn idea.

“You can’t go to work,” you argue, rounding the couch as he’s pulling his coat on over the t-shirt and boxers he slept in. “Blitz, you’re head is so stuffed full of crap right now that it just took you like, two full minutes to process the question I asked you. You can not be going on a job today.”

“Oh, puh-lease,” he says, his attempt at swagger ruined when he wipes his nose on his sleeve. He's still barefoot, and makes no move to find his boots before reaching for the door. “I can do this murder shit blindfolded and with my dick crammed down someone’s throat, I don’t need—”

He breaks into a coughing fit.

“Okay, your weird sexual fantasies aside—”

“Lemme go!” he tries to shake off your arm as you grab it, pulling him away from the door. “Christ on a fuckin’ stick, bitch, I’m not si—”

You sigh, grab him by the shoulder and a horn and shove him back against the door, your lips meeting his before you can talk yourself out of it. Blitzø’s hands are still raised in shock for a few moments before you feel them lower and he’s pressing himself against you and into the kiss.

Your face is burning when you pull away, but your heart flutters slightly despite yourself when you notice him lean forward slightly, eyes still closed, as though to chase your lips. He blinks a few times dizzily, confusion breaking through the foggy look in his eyes.

Then, he coughs once and grins, all fang and snide self-confidence. “Fuckin’ knew you wanted me.”

You try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as you feel his tail against the side of your thigh, pointing at the couch. “Yeah, yeah. You want that to happen again, you go and fucking nap, mister.”

“Ooh, never took you for a mommy domme, tits.” he says teasingly, and you curse under your breath. He snickers, coughing again as he passes you obediently. At least the kiss had been a shock enough to him to temporarily distract him from work.

“Oh, for the love of fuck, Blitz, I’m not.”

“Ohhhhh, so you wanna be the good girl for me then, huh?” he drops onto the couch, and you follow him around. He sits with his legs spread, and he pats his lap invitingly. “I can handle that.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes, instead bending over to bring yourself eye to eye with him. His gaze drops for a second down to your cleavage before returning to your face, and he leans in slightly for a kiss. You grab hold of one of his horns, stopping him in place. You were betting that he was so out of it that he wouldn’t even remember this conversation later, but still, you have to force yourself not to blush as you speak.

“Sure, you can, baby. But you wanna fuck around, I’m gonna need you to get better first.” you tell him, letting your eyes fall down over him suggestively before returning to his face. “Because before you get that dick of yours wet, I’m gonna need to find out what that tongue can do. And if you cough while you’re going down on me, I will kill you myself. Okay?”

Blitzø stares at you wide-eyed for a moment; long enough for you to wonder if any of what you just said actually made it through his flu-addled brain. Then he laughs, falling back against the couch. “Fuck, you’ve got a slutty mouth on you.”

“You have no idea,” you shoot back, tossing the medication into his lap. “Now, take a nap, damn it.”

“And then I get to fuck you?” he asks, then shrugs. He sneezes, his voice comes out gummy and thick with the flu. “Hell yeah.”

He unscrews the cough medicine and throws his head back, and you scramble to wrestle the bottle away from him before he can put himself into some kind of cough-syrup-induced coma.

“No! Fuck—Blitz, it doesn’t fucking work that—fuck!”

send me a prompt and either husk or blitzø

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jj-5656 · 2 years

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Sneaking Suspicions With; Tangerine (Bullet Train)

A/n: Are we proud? Two uploads in two days. This is how I procrastinate doing any homework. Could not get this idea out of my head so here we are. This is my first for Tangerine, but I just recently rewatched Bullet Train and couldn’t resist. Had to add Lemon too because it’s simply not complete without him. Also, the bit about Thomas is all true, I was obsessed with that show when I was young. Enjoy!

Summary: The one where your boyfriend attempts to build a kitchen table, and nearly slaughters your neighbor...

T/W: A LOT of cursing, some suggestive humor, mentions of violence...duh

“Bloody fuckin’ hell.” You wince as tools clatter in the kitchen. Discarding your current task of rummaging through boxes with Tangerine’s scribbled writing marked ‘bathroom’.

You’ve finally moved in to the new place after months of preparation. Having been together for 8 months, it was about time you moved in together. Tan practically lived at your old place anyway, though taking this step was intimidating for both of you. His brother had egged you on for months, desperately wanting their shared apartment as his own.

Hence why Tangerine is sat on the floor, muttering curses as he attempts to assemble your dining table.

“Tan, why won’t you let me help you?”

“I told you, I’ve got it, love. Fucking bastards,” his shoulders tense with anger as he speaks. “Can’t even make a buildable fuckin’ table. I’ll show them ‘quick and easy’ right up their fuckin’-”

“Did you even look at the directions, baby?” He furrows his brows, turning to you like you’ve grown another head.

“Directions are for morons.”

“Or for people with zero table assembling experience.” You mutter, fighting a grin under his tense stare. He wipes a bead of sweat from his brow, only sporting a wife pleaser and trousers in the summer heat. You internally cringe at the reminder your stubborn boyfriend intends to install the air conditioner on his own as well.

“Maybe we could ask Brian across the hall, he said he does construction for his dad part time.”

“You chopping it up with that lad already? Right git, he is.”

“He’s nice, Tan.”

“He’s a flirt, and a shit one at that.” It forces a laugh from you, Tangerine frustrated that the sound still manages to ease the tension from his muscles.

“I’ll ring Lemon, then.”

“I swear to Christ, if you call my muppet of a brother-”

And that’s how Lemon ends up knocking at your door, takeout in hand and a bright smile on his face at the sight of you.

“Hello, lovely. Call for reinforcements already?”

There’s a distant “fuck off” from the kitchen, but you nod nonetheless, thanking him for the food and much needed company. Lemon’s rooted for your relationship even before his brother. Insisting he get your number that fateful night in that shitty club all those months ago.

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

You’d been sharing drinks with a group of friends when a man bumped into you, nearly knocking you over with the size of him. He’d caught you by the shoulders before you could fall, sending the drunken, clumsy patron an icy glare before surveying you for any injury. He’d clasped both his hands around one of yours, profusely muttering overly-posh, accented apologies. You were ready to cuss out whoever had been so careless before you laid eyes on him, overwhelmed with the British charm and piercing eyes.

“Can I buy you and your friends a drink? I’ll be out of your hair after, promise.” His sincerity makes you want to request he sticks around the rest of the evening, though you shake your head. Polite commonalities ingrained in your nature.

“Not necessary, I appreciate it.” You assure with a kind smile, ignoring your friends gawking at the pin-stripe clad gentleman. He nods, not wanting to make you any more uncomfortable as he gives your elbow a gentle squeeze in one last apology. Heading back the way he came, sitting beside another well-dressed man at the bar. What looks like a round of chastising from the raven-haired man, and the handsome stranger is waving him off, glancing over at you and taking a generous sip of his drink.

“You did not seriously just turn Poseiden-incarnate down.” Your girlfriend finally manages to close her slacked jaw, frustrated with your shyness.

“He was just being polite, Brooke. I didn’t want to have him buy for the whole table in obliga-” A waitress approaches before you can finish, smiling brightly at the lot of you as she sets down a round of espresso martinis.

“The gentlemen across the bar insisted. On him, of course.” The older woman shoots you a wink, a chorus of cheers from your friends in salute to the man across the way. He sends a kind smile, tilting his own glass and looking like he hates the sudden attention. He meets your eyes for only a moment, starting up conversation with the man beside him in a silent obedience to his promise of leaving you be.

It’s hours before you see him again, headed outside for some fresh air after spending too much time on the dance floor. You’re sober enough to hold your own, comforted in the array of bouncers nearby if needed. You’re sat on a bench just in front of the club, craving some relief from your heels. There’s a flick of a lighter beside you, a curse when it doesn’t ignite any flame. You’re searching through your clutch instantly, offering up your own light without a second thought.

“Didn’t take you for a smoker.” You perk at the accent, trailing the extended arm to meet the man’s gaze for the third time that evening.

“Don’t. Not cigarettes, anyway.” He smiles through the now ignited stick, quirking his head in quiet contemplation. His eyes study you, and surprisingly, it’s almost endearing. There’s no suggestive indications to his observations, like most men you’d encounter. It’s contemplative, as if he’s trying to figure out.

“You always stare at strangers?” Your wit pleasantly surprises him, and his grin grows despite himself.

“Apologies, love. Just taking it all in. Mind if I sit?” You nod, thanking the cold for the constant flush of your cheeks that’ll hopefully conceal the blood that rushes to them at his words. “Never got your name.”

“Y/n, nice to meet you.” You take his extended hand for a shake, wincing at the formality of your words.

“Tangerine, pleasure’s all mine.” He awaits the usual ‘like the fruit’ with sudden irritation, but it never comes, so he relaxes.

“That a nickname?”

“Of sorts.” You don’t pry, not interested in scaring him off just yet. If he wanted to tell, you, he would. In his mind, Tangerine thanks you profusely. Pleased to have met someone uninterested in forcing information out of him.

“Whose your friend?” You mean the other good-looking guy beside him the entire night, who must still be inside.

“Brother,” he corrects, not unkind. “Hoping he won’t be trollied on the way home.” Your eyes narrow, unaccustomed to the slang. Tangerine exhales a stream of smoke away from you, wetting his lips with a twinge of amusement.

“Drunk, love. Or wasted, as you’d put it.” A laugh escapes you, thoroughly entertained with his dramatic mock of an American accent.

“That is not how we sound.” You nudge his shoulder with your own, defensive and patriotic for likely the first time in your life. “You guys are still salty we won.” He bellows a laugh this time, and the warm sound erupts butterflies in the stomach.

“Blokes chucked boxes of tea in the ocean in retaliation. The fuck kind of war crime is that?”

“One that proper fucked your economy.” You attempt your own dramatic accent, curious as to why he tries so hard to fight smiling. You assume he’s usually much more stoic without the aid of alcohol and new company.

“Bloody hell, that was awful.” He teases with no real ill-will, stubbing out his cigarette when his brother stumbles out of the building. You hear him mutter something about ‘shit timing’ as the taller man approaches, kind smile adorning his handsome features.

“You’ve found your Edwards!” He clasps his hands together, absolutely delighted before he sits himself in between the two of you. Tangerine looks absolutely pissed, astonished when you beam brightly at his intoxicated brother.

“Edwards?” You question despite Tangerine’s shaking head of warning.

“Edwards.” He assures, adjusting his suit jacket as he gets comfortable. “Wise, kind...We’ve only just met, I know. But, you see, I’m great at reading people.”

“Christ, here we fucking go again.”

“Everything I learned about people, I learned from Thomas the-”

“Tank engine!” You finish for him, the pair shocked at your enthusiasm. “That was my favorite show when I was little!”

“You don’t say?” The man beams, looking over at his brother with an undoubted stamp of approval.

“Swear it. Had the stuffy for years, an entire train table set too.”

“The one with the wooden tracks you could build yourself?”

“And the magnetic crane to lift up the figurines!” The two of you are absolutely enamored, enthralled in the conversation whilst Tangerine broods opposite you. Making a mental note to shoot his beloved brother in the foot the second he gets him alone.

“Bloody hell, I loved that set. What a coincidence!” He turns to his brother, shaking with anger.

“Fuckin’ unbelievable.” Is all he manages, messing with the rings on his fingers to calm himself from the outright cockblock. Fuckin’ muppet.

“Names’ Lemon. Pleasure to meet you doll, truly. A real Edward, you are.”

“You really think so?” The alcohol ends any fight to conceal your pleased expression, glancing over at Tangerine who forces a smile at your grant of attention.

“Know so. Brother over here’s a Gordon, don’t you think?”

“I could see that.” This time you’re the one to study said man, lip quirking when he shifts under your gaze.

“Alright, we should get you home.” Tan rises with a roll of his shoulders, ready to head back with his head hanging low in a failed feat. Lemon frowns, pushing away the strong arm that’s pulling at him so he can dig through the inner pocket of his expensive jacket. Pulling out a folded and well-worn sheet of paper.

“Here comes the fucking sticker book. Of course.”

“You know I bring it everywhere. Here, love.” Lemon peels the Edward sticker from the sheet. Sticking it onto your finger with a soft ‘boop’. You gasp, delighted.

“The lady’s real chuffed, Lemon. Let her get back to her friends for Christ’s sake.” He pulls the man to a standing position, waving down an approaching taxi with an ear-piercing whistle. “You got a friend getting you home safe, sweetheart?” You nod, pressing the new sticker to the back of your phone and pressing your case back on it. Aiming to keep it safe indefinitely. Tan suppresses a smile, finding it absolutely adorable. He buttons his jacket, straightening in self-discipline to push away the love-sick thoughts.

“Have a good night, you two. It was nice meeting you.” There’s a hint of sadness in your tone, the farewell and the unlikeliness of running into them again tugging at your heart strings. Weird, considering you just met the two men and you already want to get to know them more. Especially the handsome fuck with the unrelenting charm.

“Like-wise, love.” Tangerine ushers his brother into the backseat of the car, muttering something to the driver before turning on his heel to face you again. Brows taught in consideration. He battles with himself, weighing if he’s selfish enough to try and get to know someone as seemingly kind-hearted as you. You’d deserve better. He surveys you a final time, every nerve-ending in his body begging for more. You’re about to head back inside when he clears his throat, grabbing your attention.

“Any chance you’d be willing to give me your number, sweetheart? Just to make sure you get home safe?” He prays it doesn’t sound too hopeful, as desperate as he is for you to comply. You cock your head incredulously, and he swears his heart skips a beat.

“Just to make sure I get home?”

“And maybe to ask you to dinner. Or, you say no and I fuck off.” You chew on the inside of your cheek to suppress the excited grin. Hoping you appear nonchalant despite yourself. Taking a few steps forward, you extend your hand. Brows raising in expectation as he stares at you. He snaps out of it, digging into his pocket with a muttered ‘oh, right.’

“All right mate! Thought you’d never get the balls to ask her. Been going on and on about her since you nearly tackled ‘er”

“Fuck off, Lemon.” Tan seethes, eyes averting to you when you giggle through your rushed typing into his phone. “He’s drunk, pay no mind.”

“Trollied, right?” There’s teasing heavy on your tongue, and it takes everything in him not to pull you in for a kiss right there. On the curb of some mangy club whilst the impatient driver honks in warning.

“Right. Goodnight, love. Careful getting home, yeah?” You nod, mindlessly standing up on your tip-toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Night.”

And with that, you’re headed back inside. Feeling his eyes on you the entire time. Only looking back when the door closes behind you. Ensuring he can’t see you spying. He has his head down, biting a smirk from his lips before gaining composure, tossing himself into the cab beside his brother.

***********

“You’re not needed, I have this handled.”

“You don’t actually. I’ve seen corpses more capable of brain activity than this, mate.”

“Piss off.”

“I would, but I like your girlfriend more than you, and therefore don’t want to leave her with this,” he motions to the mess of tools and table parts, “all alone.”

The two of you sit opposite him, Lemon unfolds the discarded instruction sheet with a deep sigh.

“You’ve got the wrong bolt on that one.”

“No I don’t.”

“You do, mate. Considering I’m the one with the fucking instructions.”

“See, if I was a fuckin’ mug like you, I’d need the directions. But I’m not, so I don’t.”

“Well, you must be. Considering that’s the wrong fucking bolt.”

You rub your temples, fighting an oncoming migraine. Taking the drill from the floor and setting it counter-clockwise to remove the damned bolt. Tan takes it from you, setting his hand on your stomach to push your criss-crossed form backward.

“Hey!”

“What did I say? I didn’t want you doing this, Dove. You’ve just gotten those nails done. I-” He stops himself, taking a breath. “We got this covered.”

“This seems patronizing and sexist.”

“Quite the opposite. I respect you so much I’d rather not have you sit on the floor and do this.”

You huff, arms crossed as you glare at him. Too worn out to argue, and figuring there’s an array of boxes to be unpacked, you scramble to your feet.

“Fuck you.”

“Maybe later, love. I’m quite busy at the moment.” The cheeky response gets a laugh out of even Lemon, who straightens as soon as your heated gaze snaps to him. You flip them both off, no real anger to it as you head back toward the bathroom.

**********

Another couple hours pass and you’ve finished both bathrooms and are working on the master bedroom. Airpods in to block out the onslaught of arguments. You hum to your music, unaware of the eyes on you.

Tangerine leans against the doorway, finding comfort in watching you in your shared home. It’s weird, new, to share just about everything now. Scary, no doubt. Tan had walls around him so high it took months for you to even shake them. But you’ve done it, somehow. A little minx, he regards you, because you’ve managed to get through to him sometimes without him even realizing. He’s eternally grateful whatever scraps of good karma he had left accumulated to bring you into his life. Terrified it might one day be ripped away. Every time the thought passes his mind, his throat tightens, and he gets the overwhelming urge to hold you and never let go.

Your startled gasp snaps him out of it, a hand clasping over your heart in shock. “Christ, Tan. Give a girl a warning.”

“Sorry, sweetheart.” He swallows, a beat before continuing. “I love you.” Your eyes narrow at his sweet tone, trying to uncover the mischief in his sultry voice.

“What’d you do?”

“Nothing, honest. I can’t say I love you?”

“You can.” You turn your head from him, suppressing a smirk as you busy yourself with folding clothes. “Just...Not in the hall, okay?”

“What? Why?”

“It’s just,” you’re holding in a laugh now, a death wish for sure. “I don’t want Brian to hear, that’s all.” He crosses his arms, hiding his clenching fists at your teasing.

“You think that’s funny? Taking the piss like that?” You muffle a laugh with your sleeve, morphing it into a cough. “Tread lightly, my love.”

“You know, I bet Brian builds loads of tables. Must be real fast at it, considering he works in construction and all. Lot’s of strong men in that field of work.”

“Y/n.” Your name is rare on his lips, singed with irritation. You’re clearly well-past having him worked up, You press on, keen on getting him back for his suggestive comment from before.

“I always wanted to get to know a blue-collar type. So hardworking, great with their hands-” You’re in the air and flopped onto the mattress yet to have a bed frame before you can even process it. He cages you in, an arm on either side of your head to support himself as his eyes bore daggers into yours. Curls unruly and dampened with sweat.

“Stop it. Or beloved Brian’s in a body bag by tomorrow morning, yeah?” You know he’s not entirely serious, but also entirely capable, so you nod. You press your lips together, thoroughly amused. He takes your jaw in his hand and uses his thumb to pull your lips free. Tugging you into a kiss, he’s only satisfied when you gasp after your bottom lip is bit. Not too hard, he’d never hurt you, but it’s enough warning to shut you up. He gets up, hands on his hips and breathing heavy as he watches you get to your feet. Wordlessly, he sweeps a leg under yours, chuckling when you’re collapsing back into the mattress with an umph.

“You really are a fucking Gordon, you know that?” There’s no time to scramble away from his lunging form as he tugs you by the ankle toward him. One hand grabbing your arm and the other on your leg as he hoists you over his shoulder, cheekily reminding you of the power imbalance as he carries your squirming form down the corridor and into the kitchen. Where Lemon lays sprawled out on the now standing table. The air conditioner hums across the room, and the faux argument is ripped from your mind as you survey the accomplished tasks.

“Nothing a little teamwork and drive can’t do,” Lemon boasts. “You know where I learned that, Tangerine?”

“If you mention the fucking trains, It’ll be the last thing you fuckin’ do.”

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

“Tan, could you pass the lo mein?” Your boyfriend chews thoughtfully, considering it for a moment before extending it to you. Your eyes narrow when he pulls away as soon as you reach.

“Maybe you should ask Brian.”

“My god, we’re still on this?”

“Should have known better than to tease him with another man, love. Gordons are prone to jealousy.”

“Fuckin’ pipe it, Lems.”

“It was a joke, baby. Are you gonna hold this over my head forever?” You find it endearing, hard to believe Tangerine could think there’s even a hint of honesty to your teasing.

“Until I’m sure you’re proper guilty, yeah.” There’s a hint of play in his tone, and you know he only wants to hear you repeat your devotion.

“Tan, love, baby, sweetheart, love of my life, will you please pass the lo mein to your dutifully devoted girlfriend?”

“Sure thing, love. Could have just said so.” The playful banter is stuttered to a halt when Tan sets the box beside you, the legs of the newly built table creaking as they give out. With their instinctive reflexes, Lemon and Tangerine keep the entire thing from collapsing. You’re slack-jawed, in utter shock at the absurdity and slight victory of being right, as god damn usual.

“Dove,” your boyfriend’s voice strains under the exertion, meeting your eyes “be a doll and take everything off here?” You’re up in an instant, quickly snatching the array of food and plates off the surface. Lemon begins to laugh despite himself, and Tangerine seethes with frustration.

“Maybe we should-”

“Don’t. Don’t even think about saying that fuckin’ muppets name.” Tan stares daggers into his brothers eyes, paying no mind to your stifled giggles. When they finally set the table on the ground, you approach him. Tugging at his arms so you can wrap yours around his waist. You press your chin into his chest, running a hand through his unruly curls.

“Baby.” You’re soft, tone so sweet and eyes big and pleading.

“Lose the puppy eyes, doll. It’s a no.”

“I personally would like to finish dinner not on the floor. But that’s just me.” Lemon purses his lips, brows raised expectantly at his brother.

Tan releases a deep, shaky sigh, dark gaze softening when he meets yours. He tries to tug his head away when your hands hold it, but you’re insistent, making him face you again.

“I’m all yours, alright? I promise.” You kiss both his cheeks and then his neck, some tension leaving him. He tilts his head in faux irritation when you stick out your pinky to him, grinning when he finally gives in and wraps his much bigger one around yours.

**********

“It’s already so nicely decorated in here.” Brian surveys the room with a polite smile, turning to you. “All this is your eye, y/n?” You straighten, hoping the man won’t notice your boyfriend’s homicidal stare.

“Tan has more taste, admittedly.” You’re not just trying to take the attention off you, it’s the truth.

“Well that should be obvious, he got you.” Lemon coughs, setting a hand on his brother’s shoulder with tight, grounding grip. The slightly shorter man boils beside him, eyes boring into yours in an enraged ‘I told you so’.

Your neighbor places his work bag on the floor, cringing at the sight of the flattened table. He approaches the brothers, clueless, patting their arms with sympathy.

“Should have gotten me earlier, guys. You know you can call me over any time for some help. Handiwork isn’t for everyone, some things are just left for the professionals.

“No kidding.” Tan mutters, letting Lemon pry his fingers from the biggest kitchen knife you own when the man’s back is turned to them.

“We’ll have to grab brunch sometime, y/n.” He’s blissfully unaware as he talks between rounds of the drill. Unscrewing mistakes and penciling out where they should actually go. “I’ll fill you in on the rest of the neighbors. Some of the ones to avoid and all.” Lemon’s practically wrapped around his brother, praying to a god he doesn’t believe that the clueless fuck will shut up. You cross the room while he drills away, placing your hands on Tan’s chest and pressing into him. He can’t even see you, can’t even feel you as his blood burns his own skin. Considering the fasted method of kill and cleanup over and over again in a final stitch to calm himself.

“You’ll have meet Cody first, of course. I’ve already told him there’s finally another young couple in the building. Thank god.”

“S-Sorry, mate?” Lemon loosens his grip in realization, fighting a bellowing laugh.

“My bad, I tend to drill when I’m talking. Cody gets on me for that, too, This is what I mean, sweetheart. We need to escape the doting boyfriends for a little. Enough to drive anyone nuts.” He shoots you another smile, pleased to see you nodding profusely.

“Absolutely.” You turn to Tan, whose brows are taught in utter confusion. “They can be a real pain sometimes.”

“But, alas.” The drill whirs, he stops talking for a beat and then releases the trigger to finish. “We love them.”

“To bits and pieces.”

Tan collapses against the counter, right exhausted from the strain of keeping his composure. Pure relief washes over him, and you let him pull you into an embrace.

“Boys, would you mind helping me turn this right side up? i think I’m all finished here.” They comply, Tan reluctantly pulling away and kissing your temple in silent apology. Together, they set it upright and each give it a good shake to ensure it’s stability.

“Thanks, mate. I owe you.” Your boyfriend gives the now beloved neighbor a firm shake, a hint of guilt in his eyes.

“British and handsome, you two are truly a killer pair.” Brian gathers his things and checks a notification ding on his phone. Sighing fondly. “Speak of the devil.” He waves his phone to you with a lighthearted roll of his eyes. “See you all soon.” Giving you a quick hug, he exits as soon as he came.

“Most definitely not a diesel, that bloke.”

#tangerine #tangerine x y/n #tangerine x you #tangerine and lemon #lemon #bullet train #tangerine imagine #atj #atjohnsonedit #aaron taylor johnson #bullet train imagine #tangerine and ladybug #imagines #fanfic #aaron taylor johnson imagine #lemon x tangerine #lemon x reader #diesel #gordon

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pythonees · 11 months

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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ PUNISHMENT — johnny slaughter

WARNINGS: 18+, Johnny being Johnny (mean), smacking/beatings, it's lightly abusive but with sparkles over the top

A/N: my incoherent rambling for this very evil no good man that I have been lusting over since this game came out. heavily inspired by the au/world building from @whatitshouldvebeen and their wonderful writing for johnny.

please please please don't slap a community rating on my post just don't read it and block my tags or me. it really effects who sees my work that I make for FREE for anyone to enjoy. thank you 🤗

Somehow some way you're out in public with Johnny at like a bar or something and you're playing footsie with his cock under the table. He was teasing you all day and had left you hanging on the edge of an orgasm before declaring you were going out for some “fun”, and you had foolishly thought that you could get him back for the teasing you had to endure.

Johnny doesn't even bother to hide the sadistic grin he's got on his face as he drinks his beer, forgetting all about the newest victims you two were out trying to get. The first chance he gets to pay he does, dropping the crumpled bills on the table, dragging you to the truck and breaking every speeding violation known to man to get back to the house.

His hand would basically be imprinted on your ass the second you get home and up to his room, bent over his lap as he delivers slap after slap to the supple flesh. He's almost kind with it, trailing his hand over the hot skin between beatings, cooing at you for being such a good girl, taking his punishment without complaint.

Johnny’d even rub at your desperate clit, giving you some reprieve before your ass distracts him, big hand palming at it roughly before another round starts up, smacks filling the room once more.

You can barely walk, let alone SIT after he's done with you and he takes great pride in his handy work every time you wince and whimper in the weeks following. It's weird though, each twinge of pain also brings a wave of pleasure, distracting you even further.

Day to day tasks are a struggle, and Johnny can't help but pat your ass whenever he passes you by, laughing when you whine that it still hurts. He's kinder to you in the days following, as kind as he can be, at least. Lifting anything he might think is too heavy for you even if you can handle it, things like that. Though he does it more to feed his ego knowing that you need his help than to really help you out.

Don't worry though, he made sure to give you the fucking you were so obviously craving once he was finished teaching you a lesson. He relishes in the desperate, keening moans you make as he pounds into you, your face smushed into the pillow, barely able to dampen your wailing.

The bed is damp with sweat and tears and the steady stream of your arousal that drips out of you, each smack oh your skin colliding jolts another gush out of you despite the pain that follows.

©︎ pythonees — do not, under any circumstance, repost, plagiarize, modify or translate my work.

#johnny slaughter #johnny slaughter smut #johnny slaughter x reader #tcm game #tcm #texas chainsaw massacre #texas chainsaw game #reader insert #reader interactive #x reader #Ꮺ. caution #Ꮺ. smut warning #Ꮺ. my work

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kittenfangirl20 · 5 months

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*back in the past Lucifer and Lilith were called to Heaven’s embassy talk about the solution to the alarming rate the population of Hell was growing, the pair walked into the embassy see an angel sitting at the table waiting for them, the angel wore robes with gold spikes at the collar and some sort of design on the robes that looked like an A, he wore a mask with gold eyes and gold fangs as well as a horned headdress, if it wasn’t for the gold halo and gold wings Lucifer would have thought that this was a demon, on each side of the angel were a pair of angels dressed in black and silver who also wore masks except one eye was an x and they had silver instead of gold*

Lilith: We have read over the proposition of Extermination Day and we will not accept Heaven coming down once a year to slaughter our people.

The angel: I am quite surprised that you care about something that isn’t yourself, you were such an unbearable bitch in life and I am sure you still are now that you are the Demon Bitch Queen of Hell.

Lucifer: Adam.

*Lucifer was shocked that his former friend was going to lead the charge against Sinners*

Adam (the angel): Frankly I am shocked you are still with Lilith, I would have thought that you would have eventually seen the mistake you made and dumped her.

*Lucifer flipped the very large table and flew across the room so he could pin Adam against the wall while the two angels at Adam’s side now had their spears pointed at Lucifer*

Lucifer: Don’t speak of my wife that way!!!!!!!!

Adam: You are in no position to make demands, but I can be generous. We only go after Sinners but your family and Hell Born will be left alone. If you don’t agree to this Sera will have the other archangels ask God to destroy Hell, do you want your daughter to be destroyed, I would do anything to protect my children.

*Adam hoped Lucifer would see his plan was preferable to Sera’s plan*

Lilith: Don’t agree to Extermination Day, we can rise up against Heaven.

Adam: That attitude is why is why Heaven must take action against Hell.

*faces Lucifer*

Adam: I know you are not truly evil, sacrifice some Sinners to save your daughter and Cain.

*Lucifer let go of Adam, he saw a glimmer of the man he once was in Eden*

Lucifer: Fine, you can have your Extermination Day for Charlie.

*Lilith grit her teeth as Lucifer signed the agreement and left, Lilith waited for the two angels to leave and cornered Adam just placing one hand on his chest and leaned close to him in an almost intimate manner, it pleased her to feel her ex husband tremble at her touch*

Lilith: Know this, you may have your little victory today, but I still have Lucifer’s love, it’s something you will never have because you were always such a hideous creature. In fact it looks like you have become a bit of a fat ass now.

*Lilith let her hand move down and she squeezed his stomach, she laughed when instead of feeling the firm abs he used to have, his stomach felt a little round and soft*

Adam: Don’t fucking touch me bitch.

*Adam was trying to sound tough, but his his voice was strained as if he was about to start crying, Lilith smiled and kissed Adam’s masked lips knowing he would hate that*

Lilith: Farewell Adam.

*Lilith left and Adam went back to Heaven and quickly handed to agreement to Sera before flying to his home where Eve was waiting for him, Eve gently peeled off only the mask leaving the headdress, tears were falling from Adam’s eyes and more were threatening to fall*

Eve: It’s ok my love, I am here.

*Eve caressed his cheek and Adam just leaned into it*

#hazbin hotel #lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #adam #hazbin hotel adam #lilith #lilith morningstar #hazbin hotel lilith #eve #hazbin hotel eve #adam/eve

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fractalkiss · 4 months

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very short pierre/esteban, beginnings of a pacific rim au that i don't intend to continue so it's up here.

--------

Before Yuki got stationed off to Nagasaki, Pierre said that Yuki used to notice when there was a shift of flavor in the food served at the mess hall, and the added diligence with which the floors here got mopped and cleaned.

"I used to think it meant worse," Pierre explains.

"Not quite," Esteban says and lets the word linger on the pause, stale in the air, holding off on correcting Pierre; Kevin's already on it, his eyes crinkling next to Pierre at their lunch table , the scar near his brow twisting slightly.

"It does mean worse. It's not cleansing after ghosts--hasn't Guanyu told you that joke?" Kevin says.

"Ghosts?" Pierre says, like he's about to laugh, but still unsure despite his bracing smile. Kevin's motioning for Pierre to push over his glass so Kevin can nudge Nico sitting on his other side hard in the ribs. Nico rolls his eyes but drags over the water pitcher to help refill. It's unfalteringly kind; Pierre's the new guy. He misses Yuki, for sure. He would have wanted Yuki in place of Esteban, had Pierre not been re-assigned here in Hong Kong.

Spring cleaning happens every now and then: mechanics' schedules went into a new rotation. A chipped sparring stick or two was replaced with a shiny new one, when Fernando made his rounds before tending to the cadets and their training. When the food got better here, that meant the cooks were anxious as hell. Every number that ticked off a new Kaiju appearance signaled them cooking for their own lives as well, dishing out the best last meals.

When Vahis shows up as a little circle on the radar, moving like a snail across the map and biding its time--hideous thing according to sightings, angrier than the last winged type that wrecked Tokyo--Pierre eats the wanton noodles on the menu slowly today. Even tries to add a drop of chilli oil when Esteban passes the bottle to him across the metal table. Pierre's adjusting well.

The fruits they served came in fresh from the market in season, much to Lance's approval.

"You gotta notice shit like this, man," Lance said the other day, around a mouthful of crisp apple. "I think it's mercy in every which way."

"Mercy, like what, fattening us up for slaughter?" Esteban said, and Lance had lowered down the apple with all due respect of a test pilot who knew the hulls of all five of their standing Jaeger models and their cannon specs down to the tee and was carefully optimistic about their winning probability in battles. The irony was that Lance won't ever be allowed to actually cut through the hard-skinned acidic belly of a Kaiju.

Pierre looked skeptical about this, while he'd been wrapping his hands and wrist with boxing tape, obviously listening in on Lance and Esteban in conversation in one of the communal break rooms. Esteban could almost hear him: your friend right here is one of the guinea pigs whose family name helped fund and perfect our weapons?

"Our fathers would have begged us to stay in school," Esteban said, in some sort of defense.

"Of course they would," Pierre agreed. His face looked openly distressed for a split second in a way that didn't appease Esteban, but didn't anger him either. Pierre already knew that the technically correct phrase would have been 'if our fathers were still alive, they would have begged us to stay in school.' The one time they tested their neural link, was all it took for Pierre to know things about Esteban--things that hadn't been in secondhand passing courtesy of Charles and Esteban's mother being the pigeon carrier. Of course their mothers are still in touch. Pierre knows now, that when a Kaiju had struck the coastline of Panama where Esteban and his family had been stationed six years ago, Esteban had watched with his eyes wide open when it ripped apart the bridge his father had been on.

But even before then, together with Charles, the three of them had long been familiar with grief. The audacious thing about the state of the world is that it should make drifting all the more easier with Pierre.

The doctor assigned to do all their psych evals is patient. She listens to Esteban recounting their progress about strengthening their link. She doesn't blink either when Pierre keeps fucking breaking it, the sensation like a taut rubber band being snapped at the end so Esteban feels it smarting down to his molars.

"Does he talk about his old partner?" She asks, her brow furrowed only slightly.

Esteban pushes his thumbs against each other in his lap. "No. Charles is not--"

"Not dead, yes. And we count our blessings every single day. But you say that Charles is not fit to fight anymore," she goes on. "Have you told Pierre that this base is not always where demoted cadets go?"

"Of course."

Her small smile is gentle. "Then it will take time, like all things. I think you know this."

#my fic #ficlet #1031 #pierre/esteban #tw everything a pacrim au typically has

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casualsnickers · 3 months

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Month of Emmet Quick Write #14

Prompt #14: Game Night

Emmet doesn't play Uno with Ingo for a very good reason. And he gets to watch Iris learn that lesson the hard way. There's a certain reference here. This one's a shortie.

Read the whole thing below the cut.

“Draw a card, Emmet.” Iris grumbled as she shuffled around the brand new cards in her deck.

“No. It’s your turn now, Iris.” Emmet sat forward in his chair, three cards in his hands as he faced Ingo, Iris, and Skyla around a small wooden table in a game of Uno. It had been Ingo’s idea to pull out their beaten, well-used deck for their weekend meetup party. It had also been Ingo who had dealt the cards. Emmet fiddled with the top of his second card, a dumb smile plastered onto his face as he regarded his niece, playfully toying around with the spare draw four card in the center of his deck. It would be his turn after Iris dealt her card. “Play your next card.”

“What? So that you can use one of your dumb draw four cards? That you always conveniently manage to draw into your deck? No thanks.” Iris pulled out one card from her deck of five, studying it before placing it down on the messy pile in the center of the table. A reverse card. “I’ll take my chances. Ingo, it’s your turn.”

Ingo grinned, his eyes glittering with mischief. “You should’ve tried your luck with Emmet.” Ingo then placed down another reverse card. A green reverse card. “Your turn again, Iris.”

“How dare you!” Iris cursed under her breath as she pulled a card out of the deck. Iris then froze. She stared first at Ingo’s reverse card and then at her own deck. “Oh, come on now.” She reached toward the card bank again, scowling. “Of all the colors, why’d you pick green?” She drew yet another card, her eyes rounding with fury.

“What ever is the matter?” Ingo asked innocently.

“I don’t have a green card.” Iris drew another card. “Wha- really?” She drew another, her grimace deepening with every new reach toward the card bank. “What is this game?! Are you serious?! Give me a green card!”

“Perhaps- “ Ingo sneered, one hand cradling his cheek- “you shouldn’t have mentioned that you had no green cards two turns ago. A rather lackluster strategy to announce the contents of your deck of playing cards.”

Iris whipped her head up to glare at the man. “You planned this?” She then began drawing cards from the bottom of the deck, beating her fist angrily into the table when one draw turned into two turned into five. Finally, Iris submitted a green card to the table, shooting Ingo a glare. “Finally! Emmet, your turn.”

Wordlessly, Emmet shot Ingo a glance of solidarity before pulling out one of his own green cards: a reverse card. He watched, smirking as Iris internally combusted, scooting his chair away just in case.

“I don’t have a green card!” Iris shouted, garnishing the attention of Drayden and Elesa who had been talking amiably on the sofa, watching as the game unfolded.

“Sounds like a ‘you’ problem,” Emmet simpered.

Again, Iris reached toward the deck and again, one draw became two draws became six. Soon, Iris had an entire fan of playing cards in her hands, her entire body shaking with barely contained wrath. “If not for Uncle Drayden being here, I would’ve slaughtered you both. I’m going to remember this.”

“You aren’t-” Ingo corrected her, smugly placing down the second of his last two cards- “because this game will be ending soon. Uno.” His second to last card was once again another reverse card. Another green card.

Iris stood up from the table, white-knuckling the wood grain. “I’m calling for a sanctioned break.”

Emmet fanned himself with his two cards, grinning at Ingo instead. Ingo may have been the card broker but Emmet had been designated as the referee. “Break sanctioned.”

Almost immediately, Iris vaulted over the table, nearly managing to grab the hem of Ingo’s shirt as the man scrambled away from the table laughing.

#pokemon #pkmn #pokémon #submas #monthofemmet #monthofemmet2024 #subway master emmet #subway boss kudari #subway master kudari #subway boss emmet #ingo and emmet #iris pokemon

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star-girl69 · 1 year

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Ultraviolence

Natalie Scatorccio x Fem!Reader

—-

a/n: this…. is a crazy chapter. i hope you all enjoy!!

warnings: cannibalism. cannibalism. CANNIBALISM. death, dead bodies, CANNIBALISM, mentions of blood, tell me if i missed anything!!

Chapter Twenty Three - Angel Cake

—-

1996-

When you wake up, you think you’re dreaming. It’s the middle of the night, and you’d fallen asleep with the smell of a campfire all around you, wild and untamed.

You sit up, your stomach rumbling, Natalie’s hand falling from your waist down to your stomach, and something hits your nose.

Something like… meat.

“What is that?” one of girls whispers, and Natalie’s hand flexes against you as she wakes, cupping your stomach, with a storm rolling inside of it, a hunger for her and a hunger for that smell.

“I’m hungry,” you whisper, and Natalie sits up beside you. You close your eyes and breath in deep, and Natalie hooks her head over your shoulder, her lips against your neck, but she suddenly pulls away.

“Do you..?” she breathes, and you do.

“I’m hungry,” you whisper again.

Slowly, Shauna creaks open the door, and dressed in nothing but your socks, you all follow her- like pigs to a slaughter, duckling’s trailing behind their mother.

It’s meat, you think to yourself. It’s meat.

But all of you know what you’re burning tonight.

Her body is still smoking, wafting in the air, and your mouth waters, your feet crunching against the snow like bones. But you’re hungry. You’ve been hungry for so long.

And before, it was easy to ignore. When there wasn’t something like this in front of you- but what are you supposed to do now? There’s food. It’s food.

Shauna reaches the pyre first, the sticks smoking and black with ash, and falls to her knees.

Snow whips around you, falling on the dead body, and that’s all it is- a dead body. Meat in your stomach.

You tilt your head up to the sky, and wonder if God can finally hear your prayers now.

Everyone gathers around the smoking body, and it’s in your stomach, a storm, a want, a need- and how is it possibly your fault? She’s dead, and now, she’s like this. And you’re hungry.

Shauna presses her hand to her round stomach.

“She wants us to.”

You kneel next to her legs, Natalie at the end, Travis next to you. Everyone looks around the table, because all of you are hungry, all of you want this.

Hunger is all you have known for months, and now there’s a feast in front of you.

You look ahead into the forest, and if you close your eyes, breathe out into the cold air, through the fog of your breath- you can just make out a pair of antlers through the trees.

Twisting up like bone, something majestic, something not made by man, not scarred by anything evil or savage. It is just pure white bone. Ivory in its majesty, towering above the barren trees and the pines.

You once thought Jackie looked like an angel in the snow, blue and cold, unmoving.

Now, she’s your savior, smoking and cooked, and you’re hungry-

Everyone watches Shauna, and she takes a knife to Jackie’s ribs, cutting herself a piece with a sound that you will never forget.

She stares at it for a moment longer, tender flesh, full of everything you need to survive the winter. If you just focus on the hunger, on that hunger that’s been there for so long, on the rot in your soul that has already taken root- it feels right.

You’re just hungry.

And this is the only way to satiate it.

Finally, after one long second, she puts it into her mouth, chews it, open-mouthed, once, twice.

You aren’t sure who grabs the second piece.

But suddenly you’re reaching for the nearest flesh, digging in with your bare hands, plucking out a chunk with your sharp fingernails- like you somehow knew that you would need something sharp for this. Something to cut through, something to feed you.

When it hits your mouth, you breath out through your nose, almost moaning in delight, and the antlers appear through the fog again, hazy.

Your lips ache from where you keep grazing them on your nails, the hand the feeds you.

It starts slow, but you’re all hungry, and you start grabbing whatever you can, whatever’s closest, shoving it into your mouth, hungry and wild, panting and moaning, your stomach feeling full for the first time in months.

The rest of the girls do the same, muttering prayers, muttering thanks, moaning into the dark night, the sound of flesh ripping.

You eat.

You eat while you stare at the antlers through the fog of your breath. You eat, juice dripping down your chin, your hair sticking to the sides of your jaw.

You eat as the antlers turn red with blood, falling to the snow, over the branches and the pine needles, falling all over you- and you lick it up too.

—-

taglist:

@sweetdayme4427 @dreaming-for-an-escape @peachydoki @happysparklingshadows @zhivaxo @maraudeerrs @karsonromanoff

everything taglist:

@emilynissangtr

#yellowjackets x reader #natalie scatorccio #natalie scatorccio x reader

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mykneeshurt · 1 year

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Fields of Tulips - two

09 Soap x F!reader

All warnings are on the title page of this series

Chapter one

Synopsis - after a shaky first meeting with Captain McTavish, it’s time to meet your team.

A/N - Ghost and Gaz are based off 2022 MW, I prefer their characters/character models to 2009 MW2

Monday morning came round fast, your alarm buzzed at 6am and boy did it feel good to be back on base. To hear the dull drumming of boots on the linoleum floor, the laughs and banter from fellow soldiers filled the hallways.

Stretching your cramped legs you pushed your reoccurring dream to the back of your mind. There was no way it was about to impact on your first day. A new start. A new team. A new mission. It was exactly what you needed. Sheets were drenched, again, rolling your eyes you trudged towards the shower. Hoping the hot water would provide some solace from your lingering thoughts.

Make it hot … burn yourself … you’ll never be clean … they died because of you … you’re gonna fail today … worthless … pathetic

You did make the water hotter, the light sting of the liquid was enough to silence the thoughts that ravaged you. Every waking hour. Every fucking second.

Stepping out the shower you glare at your reflection in the mirror. You looked tired, a little gaunt even. A scar ran down the left side of your body …

Adam’s’ body led huddled into your chest, the fuselage of the plane dug into your torso, into your abdomen. Blood dripped from the open wound into a small puddle beneath you. It smelt strongly of iron.

You shook your head, and tried to focus on your next task. As you brushed your teeth the repetitive motion lulled you into a trance, up and down, left and right …

Your eyes were heavy, a sharp stinging pain raged within your body as you tried to move. The metal creaked and moaned above you, you tried to scream but no sound came.

Tears stung your eyes as you spat the toothpaste into the sink. ‘Fuck’ you whispered to yourself. Today cannot be a bad day. But it will be. Focusing on your breathing you counted to four, imagining a box. In for four, out for four. Trying desperately to cling onto your sanity, to cling onto normality.

- - - -

After you’d managed to get dressed you walked to the canteen, it was still pretty early so it should have been quiet. Except it wasn’t. The canteen was a bustling hive of activity, soldiers sipping coffee, scoffing eggs into their mouths ready for the day a head.

Keeping your head down you tried to keep to yourself, not to being any attention to yourself.

It lasted all of 2 minutes.

You felt something hit your back, something soft and moist. Whipping around you saw a soggy old banana skin at your feet, part of its rotten membrane coated your hoodie. Sighing you heard a chorus of sniggers and giggles coming from one of the tables.

You marched over, furious at the audacity of the person who threw it at you. As you approached you saw a group men eyeing you up and down. A lamb to the slaughter.

‘No one wants you here, Adams died cause of you.’ His voice full of venom penetrated your feeble armour. ‘Fuck you!’ You shouted, fists shaking from pure fury. The man slammed his fists on the table, the thud echoed in the canteen instantly silencing the busy conversations.

Within an instant he had you by the collar and shoved you up against the concrete wall. ‘Fuck you say to me? Fuckin murderer. Should have been you who died on that plane.’ His face contorted with sheer malice, spitting his words at you. You kept your voice low ‘I said fuck you.’

He slammed your back into the wall again causing your head to bounce off it. ‘I’ll fuckin end you, stupid bitch.’ Feeling your anger overflow you spat in his face, a smug grin spreading over your lips. The man wound his arm back ready to lay into you, fist clenched, veins protruding.

As he swung you managed to duck just in time, as you ducked you tackled him to the floor. The canteen erupted in a throng of cheers and chants, encouraging a fight to happen between the two of you. You managed to get a lucky punch in, your knuckles connected with the soft cartilage in his nose.

A grinding and popping noise rang out as blood started to stream from his nose. Just as you were about to swing again a forearm wrapped around your waist lifting you effortlessly. They placed you over their shoulder and stormed out of the canteen. Staring at the solider on the floor you flipped him off smiling at your lucky win.

As you entered the corridor you began pounding on the back of your captor. ‘Put me down! Who the fuck do you think you are?!’ You were taken into a small office, the door slammed behind you as you were thrust onto the floor.

Straightening up you were finally able to see who had taken you. Oh fuck. Of course. ‘Captain’ you said meekly, instantly withdrawing into your shell. You were fucked and you knew it.

‘You wanna tell me what the fuck that was?’ He asked standing over you, arms crossed and eyebrow raised. His face was stoic, not giving anything away but his voice was stern, he was pissed. You’ve done it now, see? Can’t do anything right. It really should have been you on that plane.

Brushing yourself off you chewed your cheek ‘he started it! He threw a mouldy banana at me!’

‘So you thought the correct thing to do was to tackle him to the floor and break his nose?’

‘Bastard deserved it. Told me I should have died in the plane.’

Soap pinched his brow and sighed heavily. ‘Alright, maybe he did deserve it, but it doesn’t give you the right to assault him. You aren’t judge jury and executioner.’

‘Oh? And what would you have done if you were me?’ You scoffed, crossing your arms. Mirroring his stance.

‘We ain’t talking about me lass.’

‘No that’s right. I’m the one who has to put up with this. I’m the one who was in that plane crash. I’m the one who sees their fucking faces every day, every time I close my eyes. Me. So excuse me if the way I stick up for myself is a little unconventional.’ Your chest was heaving. Who the fuck did he this he was?

Feeling tears start to sting behind your eyes you quickly darted around Soap. He tried to reach out for you but you pushed his hand away. ‘Don’t. I’ll see you in the gym.’ He dropped his hand and nodded, letting you leave.

Tulips. Think of the tulips.

———

After eventually calming yourself down you traipsed towards the gym, eyes still damp from your tears. Massaging your face you tried to calm yourself. The sound of punches and bare feet on mats sounded from behind the closed door.

This was it. Time to meet your new team mates.

Slipping into the gym you kept your hood up and slid onto one of the benches. Ok the mats were two men, one was a rather handsome young man. Young freshly shaven, a cheeky smile and a fantastic pair of legs. The other was a mountain of a man, broad and solid, he wore a mask with a crudely painted skull on it.

Soap and Price were talking amongst themselves as the two men beat the shit out of one another. You sat with your arms crossed, impressed at how nimble and fast they both were. Their movements were hypnotising, fluid. Each counter attack carefully calculated and executed, it was as if they were dancing with one another.

You were so lost in the performance before you that you didn’t notice Soap sit next to you. ‘You alright kid?’ He asked leaning on bis thighs. Sighing you took your hood down, biting on your thumb. ‘Yeah I guess. I’m not sorry for what I said, but I’m sorry for yelling at you.’

‘I get it. No need to apologise, but you should see someone. Just talk, see how you feel.’

‘I … I don’t know if I can.’

He remained still, mulling over your words. You felt as if he knew what you were going through, his tone was gentle. He wasn’t probing, he wasn’t being nosey, it seemed like he cared. A feeling you weren’t used to anymore. Maybe once upon a time, but not now.

‘I know. It’s tough. You can’t let it consume you though. You’ll lose yourself in it … trust me’ he half heartedly smiled at you. ‘Just think about it?’

You tried to smile back, but it came out as a grimace. ‘Yeah I guess I’ll try.’

‘Atta girl. Now, wanna come meet yah team? They been wanting to meet you.’

He led you over to the two men who were taking a break, the man with the mask regarded you closely. Eyeing you up and down as he drank the water from his scuffed bottle. ‘This is Ghost. Sniper, don’t mind the mask he’s an ugly fucker underneath.’ Ghost? Fitting. He’s got soap a glare but the corner of his eyes creased, clearly hiding a smile.

‘And this is Gaz. Chopsy, so don’t let him give you a hard time. But he’s one hell of solider.’ Gaz laughed, showing brilliant white teeth and a killer smile. ‘Nice to meet you love. Think you’re ready to settle in with us?’

You smiled up at him, he instantly put you at ease, his face was so kind. ‘Yeah, I think so.’

‘Boys this is Sargent Dunn. Sniper and demolitions expert.’

‘Demolitions eh? Gonna give cap the run for his money then?’ Gaz smiled, clearly trying to get a rise out of Soap.

‘You didn’t say you were in demolitions too sir’ you asked peering up at him.

‘Aye. Could probably teach you a thing or two.’ Fucker was getting smart.

‘Mmmm we’ll see. You don’t have the woman’s touch though. That I can guarantee.’

Gaz and Ghost both chuckled at your retort. ‘Oh and what would the woman’s touch be?’ He asked, head cocked, eyebrow raised. Holding his gaze you smiled ‘I always know where to find the on button.’ Soap smiled down at you, his normally stoic serious demeanour slipped for just a second. Gaz and Ghost let out a roar of laughter, you finally felt welcome. You felt no judgement after what happened.

It didn’t feel like home quite yet but maybe one day it could be.

———

A/N - fuckin hell this took ages to write lmfao I think the writers block is lifting. I PRAY

Taglist - @deadbranch @brewed-pangolin @luminousbeings-crudematter @abbsaura @moniheartz @tiredmetalenthusiast @cathnoneofyourbusiness @alittlefansthings @lumineyee @all-good-things-have-an-ending @mintttchi @whore4dilfs @unforgettabie

#call of duty #john soap mactavish #captain mctavish #john mctavish #captain john mactavish #09 soap #soap call of duty #soap #soap modern warfare #soap x reader #soap mctavish x reader #soap cod #soap mctavish x you #john soap mctavish x reader #slow burn #series

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jabbage · 2 months

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#Letters from Watson #lettersfromwatson

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1296-very-good-year · 10 months

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Just for fun, here are some excerpts from the last wow novel that explored Anduin's mental state (Shadow's Rising) immediately PRIOR to his kidnapping, torture, mind control, and however many years wandering around alone with crippling ptsd:

1) They had reached the fences. Anduin grasped one of the crossbeams and squeezed, the old, battered wood creaking. He wanted to break it. He wanted it to snap. A surge of anger made him close his eyes, as if he were afraid of what Alleria might see there.

The hunt would continue, and he, as king, would find a way to keep faith in their odds of victory. That was his duty. A man had to know his limits, but he could not reach that limit, not yet; too many depended on him now.

The fence beam snapped. Just another thing to fix.

Another in a long, long line of things to mend.

2) He strangely wanted to stay in the crypt, to sit there among the dead and know their pain, their stories. It seemed easier than facing another day of frustration and failure.

3) Jaina: “Alleria and Turalyon tortured that smuggler in front of me. She used the Void to infiltrate his mind while he held him prisoner with chains made from the Light. It looked unspeakably painful.” She rounded the table, searching his face. “My king…I worry that their tactics represent you poorly. Every one of us, every soldier, is in service to your crown. We stand under your banner, and if their actions are sanctioned by your rule, what does that say about us?”

Anduin did not speak for a long while, though his smile diminished. He shook his head, turning away from her, pacing back and forth across the lush green carpet beneath their feet. Finally, he crossed to a large brazier in the corner belching healthy flames. Flattening his hand, he passed it back and forth just above the reach of the fire.

“What does it say?” he echoed. He sounded almost offended that she had to ask. “It says we will do whatever we must to bring murderers to justice. It says we will not forget those lost in war. It says we will not forget Teldrassil, or Lordaeron. It says we will not forget the mak’gora. It says that we will not forget the flames blazing over the Veiled Sea, or the fires reflected in the eyes of a thousand mourning children.”

4) His skin looked worn and blue around the eyes, exhausted smudges painted beneath.

Thrall knew that look well, had experienced it himself many times —the sleepless, sallow ravages of leadership. It had been mere months since he had last clapped eyes on the king of Stormwind, yet he seemed to have aged a full year.

5) Anduin found himself before the great carved fireplace in his bedroom on the floor, legs tucked up to chest, catatonic, eyes unable to close, mind unable to clear, the flames just inches before him searing into his vision until tears poured down his cheeks.

6) Anduin after meeting some young alliance soldiers in a bar while in disguise: They lapsed into song, forgetting all about their new “friend.” But Anduin wouldn’t soon forget them. He looked at each of their faces in turn, memorizing them, wondering how long it would take until they too turned up on a freezing slab beneath the Cathedral of Light, innocent lambs before the slaughter.

7) Anduin to Jaina: "Sometimes I need to be a boy again. I think about all the soldiers giving their life to serve the Alliance, and I think: How? How can they be so young? Those three brave souls inside, they think they’re ready to die. Ready to die for me. It isn’t fair. It…it should make everything stop. The whole world should stop and point at that, but it doesn’t. Everything just rolls on, the world forgets, and I have to pretend like their sacrifice isn’t a cruel, heartbreaking joke.”

8) Anduin made a soft sound of disgust and stood, hovering over her, considering her for a long and tense spell. A wisp of purple energy traveled down his arm, gathering in his palm. It happened in a blink, coming and going, dissipating before Mathias could see for certain what the king had done.

It startled Anduin enough to make him stumble backward. Shaw felt Jaina’s eyes upon him, and he glanced her way. If he was rattled before, the fear etched upon Jaina’s brow shook him to the core. Anduin winced, breathing hard, shaking out his hand before leaning back against the wall. Shaw knew better than to be staring when the king’s eyes began to roam their faces for a reaction.

So.. you know... He hasn't been great for a while.

Also, just considering it now, when Anduin winces and shakes out his hand after calling on the void, is that implying that the Light/Divine Bell hurt him for it? Cuz that's what it reads like to me 🤔

And if the Light has left him, does the Bell still bother him? Or is that gone too? Questions questions.

#anduin wrynn #shadow's rising #warcraft #jaina proudmoore #seriously tho every single time we go in Anduin's head in that book he is drowninggg #i could have added so many more excerpts #like theres one time anduin is thinking about some random kid he met once #and hes like yea hes probably dead and he probably died horrifically as ppl do #maybe being king again would be very bad actually #mine

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