#i want these fuckin badges you guys
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Teehee
#i learned you can boop the cats in the counters#and i started an auto clicker#i want these fuckin badges you guys#idk whats happening to me#also thank you to my mutuals who let me boop you incessantly#as soon as I learned the cats give you points I swapped#AND I AN SUCCESSFUL
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Smut request with this gif? And dark vibes?
🙏
File room boss
>1k, dark(ish?)!Steve Murphy x boss f!reader
A/N: ty @milla-frenchy. Steve bc the first line of your javi fic the brat instantly made me want to take steve here 😫
WARNINGS: I8+, mildly? dubcon, piv, orgasm denial, creampie.
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Murphy had been acting erratic, and you thought he might have been on drugs. You weren't sure if it was the carnage, the divorce, or both. You asked him to see the DEA counselor, but he never went. One morning you got back from a work trip, and he was even more of a mess. He hadn’t shaved since the last time you saw him. His tie was already loosened. His eyes had darker circles. He looked hot, but you were worried about him. You called him into your office and asked him to give you his service weapon. He rolled his eyes, took it out of the back of his pants, and set it on your desk. Then, he braced his hands on the desk like he might push it across the room. He looked at you darkly.
His eyes were glassy. He asked, “That all? Or ya want this too?” His hand went toward his crotch and your heart skipped a beat, but he was only reaching to unclip his badge.
“Keep it,” you told him. “But I’m putting you on file duty until you get your shit together.”
“Oh come on,” Murphy complained. “You wanna catch this guy or not?”
You glared at him for questioning you. Then you said, “Follow me.” You led him into the file room and he sat on a filing cabinet as you showed him the shelves he should go through. You looked back to see if he was paying attention and he was staring at your ass in your skirt.
“Murphy,” you scolded. “Are you there?”
His eyes shamelessly panned over your body. “Yeah, I’m here,” he answered in a trance, then his eyes met yours. “Just need a second.”
“For what?” you asked. He got off the filing cabinet and brazenly adjusted himself before going to close the blinds. He returned with a darker look in his eyes.
“Sit down,” he put his hands on his hips and nodded to the filing cabinet where he had been sitting.
“You’re on thin ice, Murphy.”
“Just sit,” he repeated in a lower, more ominous tone. He wet his lips and watched as you took your seat. The metal cabinet was cool on the backs of your thighs. Complying was the last thing you should have done, but his display of dominance was turning you on.
He loomed over you, crossing his arms. “Know what I think?” He waited for you to say something.
You rolled your eyes. “What, Murphy?”
“I think you're into bad guys.”
Your face heated up at the accusation. He stepped all the way toward you, and his pants grazed your leg. The cabinet was hip height and just wide enough for him to brace his hands on either side of you. Not to be intimidated, you tried not to pull away. You couldn't do anything about the throbbing between your legs, but you didn't have to show it.
“How many ya thought about fuckin’ a Narco?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” you scoffed.
"The Lion's a good-lookin' fella," he mused.
"No way."
He nodded. “I see those 'fuck me' eyes,” he taunted. “I see’em." He froze at the bottom of his nod and locked eyes with you. “But never when I’m on my best behavior.”
“Which is when?” you retorted.
He smiled with a barely audible chuckle, then walked his hands further as he leaned in. His face was a few inches from yours, and he smelled like cigarettes and whisky. Your heart fluttered and you were gushing wet.
“Now's your chance, boss,” he murmured. He brought his lips almost to yours, then barely grazed them. The spark between you was too much. You kissed him.
Right away, his tongue slid between your lips, he cradled your head, and used his knees to nudge your legs open. The force of his kiss and his body brought you down flat beneath him.
After you were laid down on the surface, he groped your breast and you moaned softly into his mouth. Your hips lifted on their own, seeking contact..He broke the kiss to mutter, “Good girl.” Then, with one hand, he unbuckled his belt, undid his pants and began to tug them down. The bulge in his boxer briefs made your breath hitch.
He stood up to further tug his pants down, then he pulled you by your thighs to the very edge of the cabinet. He threw his loosened tie over his shoulder then hiked up your skirt all the way. You watched his massive hands as he ripped open your pantyhose for access and the cool air hit your dripping cunt.
He looked at your cunt and wet his lips. You wanted him too bad to stop it.
“This doesn't change anything,” you told him.
He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head with a contemplative pout. “We’ll see.”
He pulled his underwear down under his balls and you heard yourself whisper, “Jesus,” at the sight of his thick, stiff cock and his big balls.
He nodded and spat on his dick. Then he wet his lips as he ran his swollen tip through your dripping folds and said, “you're gonna gimme my gun back, aren't ya?” You bit your lip and didn't answer, scolding yourself for being so susceptible to this version of him.
He nodded, and when you didn't answer, he began to pull away. Fuck. You could always get him transferred.
You nodded in agreement.
“Good girl,” he whispered, then notched himself at your entrance and shoved inside. You failed to stifle your moan at the stretch, and he quickly covered your mouth with his. He backed up and slid into you again. His lips broke away, then he started slamming into you, pounding you with his big dick. The files in the cabinet were jostling around, then the file cabinet itself started moving and it was all making too much noise. “Fuck,” he breathed and slowed down. You writhed under him, desperate to come. "Door's unlocked, by the way."
"Why??" You whisper yelled, and he didn't answer. He was so reckless, like he had nothing to lose.
“Can't let ya come,” he panted, “you're too damn loud." Fine, you weren't going to beg. This would give you enough to think about and get off for weeks to come. He kissed you and slowly thrust into you for a minute, grunting and sighing quietly.
Then his deep voice broke the silence. “Where ya want it? Inside or on your blouse?”
“Fuck, Murphy,” you whined. “Not on my shirt.”
After a few more thrusts, he bottomed out and pulsed inside you. “Mmm,” you managed to be quiet but not silent. You were so close, but didn't get there. He pulled out right after he finished. Then he put himself together and left the file room alone without a word. Murphy was waiting for you in your office when you got there.
“My firearm?” he asked.
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Ty for reading 💕
#steve murphy smut#steve murphy x reader#steve murphy#dark!steve murphy#cw dubcon#narcos smut#lustaffairs ❤️🔥#narcos fic#boyd holbrook#boyd bungalow ☠️
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Bad Guy Treatment
Steve Murphy x F!Reader
For Day 18 of @narcosfandomdiscord's July Smut Alphabet: role reversal
Warnings: 18+, smut, language, handcuffs
Word Count: 3.8k
A/N: Coming out of my 3-day-long meltdown to become absolutely fucking unwell about Steve Murphy 😂 I think it's good for him! Make the man beg a little! Is it edited? No. Is it beta'd? No. But i am who i am what can we do about it? 😂
Narcos Taglist: @garbinge @winchestershiresauce @sizzlingcloudmentality @panagiasikelia @616wilsons @hauntedforsst @mirabee @buckybarnesevents @boomclapxox @nessamc @southotheborder @supersanelyromantic @padbrookcottage @mysun-n-stars @raincoffeeandfandoms @justreblogginfics @ashlingnarcos @proceduralpassion @artemiseamoon @narcolini @cositapreciosa @hausofmamadas (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)
“Oh, come on,” you goaded as you knelt on the foot of the bed, hands rested in your lap as the mattress cushioned your knees, “it’ll be fun!”
Steve shook his head as he stood in front of you, looking down at you. “I doubt that.”
“Please?” you laid it on thick, the tone you only ever used with him when you were really trying to get something from him. You didn’t have to use it often.
“No,” he said as he shook his head. “No fuckin’ way.” He looked at you, the way you were batting your eyelashes at him. He could feel the waver in his resolve, but he knew that if he buckled on this he would absolutely never hear the end of it from you.
Reaching out, you pulled him closer to you by the beltloops of his jeans. His legs pressed against the edge of the mattress as you asked, “You’re telling me that you’ve never even thought about it?”
He gently cupped your chin, tilting it so that you were looking up at him. He brushed the pad of his thumb along your bottom lip, eyes dragging slowly over every feature of your face. You felt a tingle of hopefulness before he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the dead center of your forehead and said, “Not even once.”
You huffed, rolling your eyes at him. You lifted your chin so that it was no longer being cupped by his hand. “I doubt it.”
He chuckled, shaking his head at you. “Whatever you say.”
You stayed put at the end of the bed. It’d been long enough now that you felt like you knew Steve pretty well. The two of you had always been able to get a good read on each other even when you’d first gotten together, and since then you’d only honed the skill. He could try to lie about his curiosity, but you could still see it in his eyes anyway.
He started undoing the buttons on his shirt, eyes fixed on his own hands now instead of on you. Leaning, you placed one palm to the mattress, leveraging yourself so that you could get your legs out from underneath you. Within a few moments, you were sitting, legs hanging off the edge of the bed. You had one on either side of Steve, who had noticed the way you were resituating yourself but didn’t say anything about it one way or another.
Peeling his shirt off, he tossed it into the hamper. He was about to start undoing the buckle of his belt when he felt your heels press against the backs of his legs. He let out a quiet laugh, looking at you and the amused smirk on your face. Leaning in, he kissed you on the lips. He went to pull away but you followed, not letting him get enough distance. He caught the hint enough, bringing his hands to either side of your face as he kissed you with a little more heat behind the action. You put your hands on his hips, fingers crawling their way along his belt. They grazed over where his badge rested on one side, empty holster for his gun on the other. The feeling of your lips against his had him blind to everything else, including the way you deftly lifted the handcuffs from the back pocket of his jeans without him noticing.
What you’d done didn’t register with him until he heard the clinking of metal as you brought the cuffs back to you. Once he recognized the sound, his eyes instantly popped open and he pulled out of the kiss. Instantly, he was grabbing for them, not nearly as amused by your pickpocketing skills as you were as you scrambled back farther on the bed, doing whatever you could to stay out of his reach. You were laughing as you tried to move quick enough for him to not be able to snatch them back out of your hand.
“Give those back,” he told you as he crawled up the bed to you.
Still laughing as you got your back pinned flat against the headboard, you shook your head. “No can do.”
“I’m serious.”
You rolled your eyes, knowing by the look in his eyes that he really wasn’t that serious. He was more annoyed that you were able to pull one over on him than the actual situation itself. “Come on, Agent Murphy,” there was just enough sarcasm layered on the way you addressed him to get him riled up more. “You can’t possibly tell me that you’ve never wanted to know—”
Your sentence got cut short as Steve placed one hand on each of your thighs, pulling you down so that you were flat on your back on the mattress, your legs still on either side of him. He had one hand planted next to the side of your head, keeping him propped so that he could look down at you, his other hand gripping lightly onto your hip.
“I’ve worked real hard to make sure I never end up on the other end of those cuffs.” His thumb traced back and forth against your hip as he said it, applying just enough pressure to wake up every nerve ending in your body.
The hand with the cuffs was tucked safely behind your back, like you were a few teenagers bickering on the schoolyard and you were holding his lunch money just out of reach. Using your other hand, you dragged your fingertips down his chest. Your nails didn’t dig enough to leave a mark, but you still felt the way his heart sped up in his chest at the contact.
“It’s just me,” you said as innocently as you could manage. “You trust me, right?”
He laughed, shaking his head. “Not with those.”
“Why not?”
The nearly-genuine surprise in your voice had Steve fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “You know why.”
Your mouth formed into a knowing smirk as you finally gave in with a shrug. “I guess.”
“So?” He leaned in, lips close enough to yours that they brushed as he spoke. “Can I have ‘em back?”
Despite the excitement that was coursing through you with him so close, you weren’t so distracted that you didn’t notice the feeling of his hand slipping behind your back. He’d have to work harder to get you off-kilter enough for that—you weren’t quite as easy as him.
You brushed your nose against his, slowly pulling your hand out of the reach of his. “No.”
You heard the way he mumbled your name under his breath, along with a couple curses as he tried to use his long reach to take the cuffs back from you. The fact that you were so incessantly amused by it all only made it more frustrating for him. It became much more about the principle of you giving him a hard time rather than whether or not he wanted anything to do with being handcuffed to the headboard.
He grabbed for them once more. “Will you just—”
He heard it before he felt it. The unmissable clicking sound cuffs made when they were being tightened around someone’s wrist. His eyes drifted up to see where you’d clamped it around his wrist. It wasn’t uncomfortably tight, but the fact that it was latched around him at all was his issue.
“Are you kidding me?” he asked, the tiniest bit of amusement in his voice underneath his frustration.
You smiled. “See? Not so bad, right?”
He shook his head, putting himself in a kneeling position so that he could reach into his other back pocket. “Hate to break it to you, baby, but—” He stopped short, patting all the pockets of his jeans before looking back at you again, disbelief on his face. “Did you…?”
You burst out laughing as you held the key to the handcuffs up, a triumphant smile on your face. “You should keep better track of your things, Agent Murphy.”
His head dropped, chin tucking in towards his chest. “Guess I thought I’d be safe with my girlfriend but I guess not.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Should’ve known better.”
There was a pause as the two of you looked at each other. Steve was shaking his head at you but he was still smiling. He couldn’t believe how proud of yourself you looked for the shenanigans you were performing. Gun to his head, he’d have to admit that he was a little impressed too.
“You’re not gonna give that key back to me, are you?”
“I might…”
He chuckled. “You’re somethin’ else.”
“C’mon,” you hooked your legs around him and pulled him back to you, “be the bad guy for once. And I’ll, you know,” you twirled the key between your fingers, “I’ll bring you in for questioning.”
He laughed at that, shaking his head but not fighting to pull away from you. “’Cause you know what that’s all about?”
“Give me your other wrist and you’ll find out,” you replied, not missing a beat.
His eyebrows shot up at that. The look in your eyes as you toyed with the key in your hand had him giving into you, his curiosity taking precedent over everything else. He took a deep breath, giving a small shake of his head as he sat back and looked at you.
“Alright.”
Your entire face lit up. “Yea?”
He chuckled at your excitement. “Yea.
Wasting no time, you moved so that Steve could lay down where you’d just been. Once his back hit the mattress, you quickly threw one leg over him so that you were straddling him. You felt him laughing beneath you before you heard it. Glancing down, you saw the way he was looking at you and you couldn’t help but to smile.
“Can I have your other hand?” you asked, one eyebrow raised.
He took a deep breath, but nodded as he stretched both arms above his head, wrists close enough so that you could loop the short chain over the bar of the headboard and clamp the second cuff around his other wrist. You carefully tightened each of them, running your fingertips along the insides of his wrists before looking back down at him again.
“You good?”
He nodded, his breathing, the look in his eyes, already shifting. “I’m good.”
You set the handcuff key off to the side where you could both see it. “I know I like giving you a hard time,” leaning down, you cupped the side of his face with your hand and traced your thumb along his cheekbone, “but if at any point you don’t wanna do this, just tell me, okay?”
Steve nodded, squirming beneath you with anticipation. “Okay.”
You kissed him lightly on the lips. “I love you.”
He relaxed a little more at that, nodding as he said, “I love you too.”
You brought your lips back to his, kissing him as you raked your hands back through his hair. You heard the moan that built in the base of his throat, soon followed by the clinking of the handcuffs being pulled on against the headboard. You laughed as you kissed him, the kiss only breaking when Steve dropped his head back to the pillow with an exasperated laugh.
“I already don’t like this,” he said with a chuckle.
You laughed, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Looks like I don’t even have to give you the bad guy treatment.”
He lifted his head so he could get a better look at you. “Not being able to touch you is the bad guy treatment.”
You rolled your eyes but you couldn’t fight the smile on your face. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Yea,” he tugged against the restraints, “I see that now.”
Still smiling, you pressed your lips to his in another kiss, one that he didn’t break quite so quickly. You had one hand on his chest, the other cupping his face and keeping him close. You could feel the shift in the muscles in his chest and shoulders as he went to move his arms, like he’d already forgotten what had happened only a few moments before.
Your tongue slid to meet his and you felt the way his muscles eased, his body becoming pliant beneath yours as he reveled in the taste of you. It wasn’t until you started to grind your hips against his that you heard the clanging of metal on metal. Even through your shorts and his jeans, you could feel him getting harder. He tugged against the cuffs once, twice more before resigning himself to them again. You had the feeling it was going to be an ongoing fight, and it was one that you were looking forward to.
Pulling your lips off of his, you left a trail of kisses along his jaw, down the column of his neck, trailed across his chest. You heard the sound of his head against the pillow, the way he dropped it in resignation as he breathed out a quiet, “Fuck.”
Your lips curled into a smile against his skin as you continued to move your hips. You felt the way that he tried to get enough leverage, be able to move himself against you, but you had the upper hand here in every possible way. Separating your hips from his, you heard the short huff of frustration he let out.
It was impossible not to let your hands roam. All the real estate in the world and no one to stop you from exploring every inch of it. You could feel Steve’s eyes on you as you drank him in. The rise and fall of his chest as he breathed was hypnotic, your teeth dragging along your bottom lip at the sight of him now when you’d barely gotten started. You could only imagine how he was going to look when you were done with him.
Locking your eyes onto his, you dragged your hand over the bulge of his jeans, fingers running along his length even through the denim. He took a slow, calculated breath in, hands steadily pulling against the cuffs.
“Something you want?” you asked, feigned innocence in your tone.
He laughed. He was shaking his head at you until your face was suddenly directly over his again. You cupped his face by the chin the way he’d done to you so many times in the past. Being on the other end of it, along with the slick grin on your face, sent a jolt down his spine, any smug remarks he’d been thinking of making stuck in the back of his throat.
Finally, he got himself together enough to say, “You’re killin’ me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Help me out,” he said, pulling against the cuffs for a moment like it might be the time they magically came undone.
“You know how this works,” you said as you sat back, hips moving just slightly against his as your hands rested against his stomach. “You want me to do something for you? You gotta do something for me.”
Steve chuckled, shaking his head. Fuckin’ bad guy treatment. “Like what?”
Your fingers began to toy with his belt, almost going through the motions of undoing it and then you stopped. “Tell me exactly what you want.”
For a moment the thought crossed his mind that he never should’ve given you so much power. But then he felt you move just slightly against him, saw the hungry look in your eyes, and suddenly all he could think about was making you look at him that way forever.
“I wanna be inside you,” he said, quieter and more breathless than he intended.
A smile curled the ends of your lips as you finally undid the buckle of his belt. “That’s a start.” Your fingers landed on the button of his jeans, eyes traveling back up to his as you paused. “Would it kill you to say please, though?”
He huffed out what he could manage of a laugh. Shaking his head, all he could think about for a moment was how differently this would all be playing out if he just had the use of his fucking hands.
He was snapped out of his obstinate thoughts by the feeling of you cupping his face again, forcing him to look at you. “Hey,” you leaned in, lips nearly touching his as you spoke, “you wanna know what you have to do for me so I’ll do something for you?” Your nails bit into his skin just slightly. “You gotta beg a little, baby.” You brushed your lips against his, hardly enough to constitute a kiss, but more than enough to leave him wanting more. “That’s what you can do for me.”
For a brief moment, he thought that he was going to melt right into the mattress. All he could feel was you—your hand on his face, your breath on his skin, the warmth radiating off your body seeping into his. He was about to disappear into it all, and willingly at that.
“Please,” the word came out in the closest thing to a whine you’d ever gotten out of him, “please fuck me.” He turned, pressing a kiss to the inside of your palm. “I wanna be inside you so bad.”
His words went straight to your core. Pressing a quick, hard kiss to his lips you pulled away so that you could finish what you’d started, undoing the button and zipper of his jeans. He lifted his hips off the bed just enough for you to be able to pull his jeans and boxers off all in one swoop before tossing them onto the floor beside your bed.
Steve was vaguely aware of how exposed he was in that moment, how vulnerable. He expected to find himself second-guessing it all, shying away from it. But all he could focus on, all he could think about, was the way that you were looking at him. You were kneeling between his legs, eyes roaming over him like you were about to dive in and devour him whole. He would’ve let you.
He sucked in a sharp breath when he felt your hand wrap around him, not caring about the noise that came from him fighting against the cuffs around his wrists. Each stroke of your hand had him pulling against the restraints, and you were loving it.
Resituating yourself just slightly, you leaned down, wrapping your lips around the head of his cock. His head dropped back, and you heard him muttering out, “Fuck,” and a string of other curses as you started to move, tongue running up and down his length as you did. Using your hand and mouth in tandem, it wasn’t long before you had Steve repeating nothing but your name and the word please over and over again.
When you pulled your mouth off him, you could feel the way his breath caught in his throat. Lifting his head, he looked down at you, almost like he was worried that you’d changed your mind. You smiled, tongue darting out along your bottom lip as you quickly slipped your shorts off. The groan that Steve let out when he realized that you hadn’t been wearing underwear the entire time was sinful, and it brought a smile to your face.
You straddled him once more, so close that Steve was pulling hard enough against the cuffs that for a moment you thought they might actually snap. “Still want me to fuck you?” you asked, like the answer wasn’t glaringly obvious.
You were rewarded with the clanging of metal on metal, followed by Steve’s breathless, “Please, baby.”
Giving right in was just as much for your own benefit as it was for Steve’s. You both moaned as he slid into you. Leaning in, you slowly started moving your hips as you kissed Steve on the lips. He kissed you back fiercely, hungry for whatever you would give him.
“You feel so good,” he murmured against your lips between kisses. “All that for me?”
You smiled into your kiss for a moment before pulling away. Reaching up, your fingers danced along his hands and wrists. “Guess I kinda like you like this.”
He chuckled, letting out a breathless, “Fuck me,” at the realization that he’d been right all along—you weren’t ever going to let this go.
He didn’t have too much time to think on it as you began to move your hips quicker, falling into a rhythm that was going to send you both over the edge soon. Steve’s eyes were glued to you as he watched you slide your hand down your body until your fingers reached the small bundle of nerves at your core. The moan you let out as your fingers teased, the way your walls clenched around him while you did, had him doing whatever he could to buck up into you, chasing his high the way you were chasing yours.
You braced one hand against his chest, hips stuttering in their rhythm as you came. The only sound in the room for a moment was the sound of you repeating Steve’s name over and over again. The sight of you like that sending him over the edge right with you, the clinking of the cuffs against the headboard reminding you that all he wanted in that moment was to touch you, pull you as close as he could.
You melted against him, sinking down so that you were resting your forehead against his, hands on either side of you doing what they could to keep you just the slightest bit upright. You were both fighting to catch your breath, still stealing kisses from each other despite that as you kept him inside you..
“You okay?” you asked, still breathless.
He let out a small chuckle as he nodded. “I’m good.” He kissed you. “You good?”
You laughed. “Yea, I’m, I’m good. Here,” you leaned over and grabbed the key from the nightstand, carefully undoing his cuffs before tossing it all safely off to the side. You gently ran your hands over his wrists, pressing kisses along the insides of them where they’d taken the brunt of his pulling. “You sure you’re okay?”
He nodded, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you tight to him because he finally could. “I’m good.” He kissed the edge of your forehead. “Next time, though?”
You tilted your head up so you could look at him. “Next time?”
He rolled the both of you so that you were lying on your back beneath him. “Next time,” he laughed as he kissed you, “you’re the one getting cuffed to the bed.”
#narcos netflix fanfiction#narcos fanfiction#narcos#narcos netflix#steve murphy#steve murphy fanfiction#steve murphy x you#steve murphy x reader#x reader#x reader fic#nffalphabet#my writing#fanfiction#drabblesmc
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JOHNNY, BAM, STEVE-O, CHRIS AND RYAN WITH A NORTHERN ENGLISH S/O
Notes: this might have some more teesside oriented aspects so I apologise and I try to keep it as neutral as possible while still writing decent shit ✨️
Warnings: swearing, injury (obv u fuckin dumbass), sexual references??
JOHNNY KNOXVILLE
Will 100% dress up in a suit and take you to a fancy ass restaurant while working his shittiest English accent
Got confused as fuck when you started using any slang/roadman terms
Defos uses words wrong
Went round calling everyone wanker for a full day
Thought chav was a fucking food at first defos
LOVES HEARING U SPEAK
will listen to u chat for hours
MY DAYS HES OBSESSED
So let's say jackass came to England yea
And u went up north to visit ur mates and stuff yea
Wouldn't understand a fuckin thing u was on about if u were talking to your mates
Thought a parmo was a sex move and was GOBSMACKED
He defos went to a pub with u and the guys and they got the piss ripped of them by a bunch of sweaty geezas in their 50s 😭
Take him to any beach and you will 100% have to restrain him from jumping of the end of a pier into a bunch of rocks
Caught onto u saying innit so much and now says it unironically and the guys have a laugh taking the mick out of him
Poor sod
But he's devoted to you
Defos would make roadman and chav skits w u outside a maccies or a tesco extra
BAM MARGERA
Asking if u know every single British rockstar to ever exist
Was confused when u told him it was almost 5 hours from London to anywhere near ur gaff
Got scrapped by a bunch of year 7s outside a one stop if u took him to England
Takes the mick out of yu in a cute way
Copies ur words
DEFOS TOLD JOHNNY TO PACK IT IN ONCE AND U WERE FUCKING CREASING
Told him u met Janick Gers from iron maiden and had drinks wiv him in the pub one time and he almost diedddd.
You could defos persuade him to dress up in a Adidas traccy and run fru ur local shopping center screaming sweet Caroline and tripping over eachother
you took him to hmv?
Big mistake
He never wants to leave
Defos has all the badges and posters
Spent an hour minimum sat on the floor with you looking at the band t shirts
Would complain constantly about weather but would kiss you in the rain
Got stuck in a shitty kids swing at the park
CHRIS PONTIUS
Lives for your voice
Copies ur every word
If u took him to ur hometown he would cling onto your arm and NOT let go
Called someone a geezer at a local boots and got scrapped
Yano them rando tarzees kids make out of rope and stuff but their always like 50 meters of the ground?
He found one
Jumped off
Flew like a mufucken bird
BEANS ON TOAST
WHAT AN INVENTION
His mind was opened to the 4th dimension that day
Imagine he pulled a party boy stunt in the town center
GOT CALLED A NONCEWING BY A BUNCH OF CHAVS
Wore a tie everywhere u went while u were their
Says oh my days religiously now
Fails a stunt? Oh my days
Trips? Oh my days
Bam pulls a rocky on him? Oh my fucking days
LOVES YOU SM THO
His little English, tea drinking princess
STEVE-O
Steve-o lived in England for alot of his childhood, always on the move so he was a bit more calm than most
BUT CAUSE HE WAS FROM DOWN SOUTH AND YOU UP NORTH THAT DONET STOP HIM
makes fun of northern chavs and compares them
Says the North is like a diff country all together js on account of the people and the weather
Thinks ur footie teams r shite
Defos got kicked up the arse for that one
Meal deals man
His fave thing after you
Esp from tescos
LYNX AFTERSHAVE IS HIS THING OMFS
Understands some British slang but is still confused by majority of ur convoz with people from ur home town
TAKE HIM TO FLAMINGO LAND
INSTANT MAYHEM
Sold gimicky vapes to some year 8s and fucking pissed himself laughing when they realised
RYAN DUNN
Swears at everyone with "posh words"
Wanker, bell-end, twat, muppet, cunt.
Picked up the accent on the words too
Fucking fab tha
GOT APPROACHED BY A PROZZIE
was terrified
Defos asked where her teeth were and got chased off
Thinks corner shops in England r the best thing ever
Manjaros? The takeaway not the mountain?
LOVED IT
DONNER KEBAB ✨️💅
Has been chased by council estate grannies for shoving you into people's gardens
Sat with you at the top of those shitty rope climbing frames in the park and u had a legit romantic moment
SPOILER ALERT! bam got photos of u kissing up there
Yano them random tunnels under the main roads yea?
Went down them wiv u and u ended up in a field with him laying on your chest and looking at the stars
#jackass x reader#jackass x british reader#england#johnny knoxville#bam margera x reader#johnny knoxville x reader#ryan dunn x reader#steve o#steve o x reader#chris pontius x reader
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following the river
summary: almost a frame-by-frame fanfic of river's scene in-game, but better :3 ish!!
an- guys i am so fucking sorry i haven't posted in fucking AGES i've been absolutely dogged with work n shit and i'm depressed as fuck. anyway. here's to my loyal river fans (all twelve of us) hashtag justice for river ward ive literally spent months on this for no reason
warnings- smut (18+ mdni), cowgirl, first time, you're both nervous as fuck, multiple positions, switch!v, switch!river, fucking the police, johnny ment, oral (f receiving and very brief lol), missionary, mild angst with cavity-inducing sweetness at the end, river and v are very much in love, cuddles
wc: 9.2k
If you had told yourself you’d be spending the night with an NCPD badge a month ago, you woulda’ laughed in your very own fuckin’ face. But between those heated kisses and those soft, hushed whispers, River Ward leads you by the hand into the silence of his bedroom— and it all feels far too unreal.��
But the truth is, reality is a bitch. And now here you are, tangled in a contradiction of your own making. Guess you misunderstood the whole “FUCK THE POLICE” thing.
He oughtta be chasing you down, not holding you close. But fuck, this whole situation with River is just so thrilling, and it’s absolutely undeniable that he’s more than just some badge.
There’s kindness, there’s goodness in him that transcends that old, dumbass uniform he used to wear. Night City may be bleeding, and Johnny Silverhand may be a relentless presence in your head, but River offers something more—a promise of a future beyond the consistent chaos as he leads you into the quietness of the trailer.
To be honest, you’re not sure if you’re entirely in love with River— sure, you’re attracted, and sure, your heart beats a million times faster when he’s around, and sure, you think about him all the fucking time, but shit, you don’t know love. But fuck, whether you deserve it or not, there’s just something about him, you don’t know what feels… safe.
River represents something you’ve never really had: hope. The hope for a promise of an actual future— a real-ass life. Not just surviving but living— happily, at that.
And for tonight, that’s enough.
Never before have you encountered someone as gentle, as fucking sweet as River. His kindness, his sincerity, it's like a lifeline amid chaos. But with each tender moment, each stolen kiss, you can't shake the gnawing feeling of guilt eating away at you. Oh, how you don’t want to feel this way, but here you are regardless, falling and falling for River, and allowing yourself to embrace the sensation of being vulnerable in more ways than one. And oh— is it such a bad time to catch feelings; your time on this earth is limited.
You’re a merc, one with a ticking timebomb of a narcissistic rockerboy lodged into your head, just waiting to take over your body, waiting for you to finally kick the bucket so he can take control. You’re not exactly girlfriend material. You’re neither beautiful nor are you admirable. You are tired. You are bruised.
You're a mercenary, a killer by trade, and here you are, falling for a cop—a man dedicated to upholding the law you so often break.
You know you should push River away, distance yourself before it's too late. But goddamn it, you can't bring yourself to do it.
It’s almost funny, you think. Funny to have found a love oh-so-precious—oh-so beautiful, only to have it ripped away from you by a little piece of plastic nestled in your skull. River’s warmth, his unwavering support, it's all both a blessing and a curse. You desperately want to hold onto this love, to cherish every moment you have left, but the knowledge that your time is running out gnaws at your very soul.
You sigh. Fuck, you know you can’t think about this now— you know it’s best to enjoy the moment rather than to trouble yourself with the moral implications of it all right now. You’ll destroy yourself otherwise.
And little do you know, but River’s thoughts are mirroring your own. He's fucking scared, terrified of the way you've woven yourself into the fabric of his life. As a detective, he's seen the darkest corners of Night City, the horrors that lurk in the shadows. But when it comes to you, he's lost, unsure of how to navigate the maze of emotions that swirl within him.
You're the very embodiment of everything he's sworn to protect the city against. And yet, he can't help but fall for you. Behind the walls you've erected to shield yourself from the world, he sees the vulnerability, the genuine warmth that draws him to you like a moth to a flame. But there's a part of him that fears the truth, that fears what he might discover if he delves too deep into your world. And as you stand together in the silence of the night, wrapped in each other's arms, you can't help but wonder if this fragile bubble of happiness is destined to burst, leaving nothing but broken pieces in its wake.
The linoleum floor creaks beneath your steps as River leads you further, navigating the narrow hallway. Anxiety continues to brew within him—shit, he just hopes you like him back.
He hopes his choice is right. He hopes he made the right choice by bringing you around.
But all of the chaos, all the fear building within, completely evaporates away when his eyes finally meet yours, his anxiety dissipating into nothingness. Tonight, all he wants is for the two of you to be one, where nothing in the world matters. It makes everything else seem so distant and minuscule, and that, oh, it’s the closest thing to heaven that he’s ever known.
Nothin’ else matters—except for the moment.
River pauses at one of the entryways, silently gesturing to his niece and nephew, sleeping peacefully. You understand what he’s communicating to you immediately.
You two need to be quiet tonight.
Tonight is the perfect time to forget that you’re a mercenary and he’s a cop. No badges, no guns, no uniforms—and no parasitic rockstar in your head, either. Just you and him.
So you nod your head in acknowledgment as you ease past the kids and follow him into the silence of his bedroom. Your stomach flutters in your chest; oh, fuck, you feel like a couple of giddy-ass teenagers.
You’re relentless, in all the right ways. Your desperation to feel River, to kiss him— it’s intoxicating. Once the door clicks shut, you immediately rise up on your tippy-toes with zero hesitation to press your lips against his; you could do nothing else.
Fucking finally.
One kiss, and you know you’re addicted to the taste of his lips on your own. You know then, that nothing else could give you such a natural high. You must confess, that your thoughts are impure, and the fire is burning within your bones. Shit, it excites you so much, just the idea of riding him absolutely senseless— you’re gonna fuck away his entire moral compass by the end of the night.
It’s as your lips press together, with all the desire arousal, and heat you have to offer, a wave of cruel exhaustion washes over you as River embraces you, finally making its way to the forefront of your mind. His warmth almost feels like a blanket, of sorts, soft and comforting.
A soft pleased hum escapes River’s lips as he presses himself against you, moving his hands to grip the back of your head tightly, returning your kiss with the same raw passion. His arms are wrapped around your waist, his body pressing against yours— fuck, it feels so nice to be held by a body that feels like home.
And for once, it's not Johnny who takes over your thoughts, but River. You need him—now. The heat of his lips on yours is fucking intense. It's like everything else in the city fades away, and for once, even Johnny’s presence is just a distant buzz in your mind.
And all there is, that's all that matters—River, you, and the rest warmth of his lips pressed against yours.
Your fingers claw at the fabric of his tank top, holding onto him tightly as you kiss him with every ounce of passion that’s been building up within you for entirely too long. You’ve wanted this—you’ve fucking needed this, needed to feel the warmth of another in a world so dauntingly cold.
Every breath feels new, every sensation is amplified, and all you can focus on is River. River, River, River. He’s real, and you feel him like never before. He’s yours, and you’re his.
Your breath is getting shorter, and your thoughts are being consumed with just one word: more. More, more, more. You need to feel his love.
How good it feels to have something real. And fuck, is it nice to have something else on your mind except for your impending and unavoidable death. No Johnny, no Arasaka, no Relic. Just you. Just him. Just two desperate people wanting desperately to cling to the idea of feeling alive for just one night.
You practically moan into his mouth as you lean back, letting his strong, secure arms wrap around your body. You press your body up into his, craving his warmth, craving his presence, craving him. It’s like you’re slipping into a deep trance-like state, one where all that matters in this very instant is River, this one fucking detective, this one stupid badge.
“River,” you whine quietly. “I need you.”
The words slip out before you even have time to stop them, the sound of them leaving your ears ringing.
Fuck, does he feel like the luckiest person alive when you utter those little words, the sound of them barely audible against the city’s distant hum? For such a tough merc, you sound so cute—so needy, that it makes his heart jump in his chest. It’s such an unexpected, quick change for you, and you swear you catch his mechanical eye shining a little brighter as his rough hands graze against your hips. His body presses tightly against yours, lowering his voice to a whisper that makes your tummy flutter.
“Shhh… I know ya do, V…”
The words feel so foreign slipping from his lips, but god, he can’t help it. River leans even closer to you until you can feel the warm breath of his body tingling inside your ear—his lips press up against your neck softly, trailing little wet kisses up and down the sensitive skin there.
“Just let go…”
River whispers again, moving his hand down your back and caressing the skin that he can feel through the thin fabric of your shirt. His lips flutter up and down along your neck, nibbling gently on your skin. Rough, calloused hands trace down your body, before pulling your hips to his so there’s no space between you.
River’s voice turns deep; husky.
“Just let go of everything but me…”
After all, he’s done for the city, for the world, no one has ever wanted him in such a way that they wanted him, not just his title, his body, but the person behind the piercing glow of his mechanical eye.
River’s ganic hand trails gingerly up and down your torso, his fingers playing gently with the fabric of your shirt as his lips press against your neck. The delicate sensation sends ripples of pleasure through your core— fuck— you’re getting wet.
His words trigger an immediate response from you. Excitedly, you push back against him as you moan quietly in his ear, fingers digging into the fabric of his red tank top— breath halting in your chest, growing shorter and more agitated. You raise on your tippy toes, attempting to return the favor by kissing his neck.
As you push yourself forward, pressing yourself against him, pushing a hand behind his neck, your fingers grip tight along the back of his neck. Slowly, you brace one hand on his chest, your thumb rubbing along the hard muscle that hides below his shirt, your other hand falling to fidget with the neckline of his tank.
You can feel it— he’s muscular; he’s strong and hard. He’s aboutta be all yours, and the thought alone makes you feel weak, weak in the knees with how hot he is.
When you’re slipping your hands below his shirt to feel the skin beneath, River’s steadiness finally falters. Unknowingly, he backs up into his desk, causing an empty beer bottle to topple over— crashing to the floor in the silence of the trailer.
Fuck.
For a brief moment, panic seizes over your entire being. Shit. Your heart pounds in your chest, shit, shit, shit— what if you woke everyone up with the crash? What if he’s upset with you for pulling such a gonk move, fuckin’ shoving him into his desk? What about the mess?
You swear you’re doomed.
But to your surprise, River's expression softens, a hint of amusement dancing in his mechanical stare. Was his amn fault for being so clumsy, anyway.
When the warmth of his lips caress yours, you feel a deep wave of relief. Thank fuck— you think to yourself as you realize that your actions didn’t cause all hell to break loose.
Instead, he’s too amused by your excitement, and that only serves to turn you on all the more. Hell— River finds it adorable how badly you want him. He can deal with the mess later. He’s too lost in you, too lost in the tide of passion to give a shit. Instead, his focus is entirely on you, and all rational thought is overshadowed.
His hands find their way to either side of your face, his touch gentle yet possessive, as if he's determined to memorize every curve and contour of your face. River stops, an urgent whisper, his voice barely above a breathy murmur.
“You've got me. Don't let go. Don't let this moment, this feeling—this feeling of you and me, don't let it end.”
But before you can even process the full weight of River’s words, his lips crash into yours with a fervor that leaves you breathless. It’s like a tidal wave, consuming you with its intensity, and you find yourself melting into his embrace without hesitation. You’re safe.
In turn, you respond eagerly, matching his passion with your own, hands roaming freely across his back, pulling him closer with every passing moment. River hums to himself when your smooth lips part upon the brush of his tongue against you— feeling just right. You feel a surge of electricity coursing through your veins, fueling that consuming lust that just keeps on burning brighter and hotter in your lower tummy.
You guide his strong hands, urging him to explore every inch of your being, to revel in the depths of your desire as you surrender yourself completely to the intoxicating bliss of the moment. You need him. The feeling of his sends shivers down your spine, you realize that this—this connection, this unspoken bond—is what you've been searching for all along. In River's arms, you find solace. In his kiss, you find passion. And in that little bit of love between you, you find home.
Like you, River’s mind has started to go hazy, his body filled with heat as he pulls you in tighter, desperate to feel everything at once.
The embrace of your lips turns heated, desperate, his teeth brushing against your bottom lip. Shit, he can’t believe you’re allowing him to touch you like this— he feels like the luckiest fucker in the world. The heat rising in his body is nothing short of intense, it feels so right.
But he needs more.
River pulls away to break the kiss, his gaze slides across your body, admiring you silently, taking note of every little curve, burning through you, silently admitting how lucky he is. Oh, how he never realized desire could be so engulfing until this moment, with you staring right up into his eyes with a vulnerability he cannot ignore. It makes him feel fuckin’ stupid— like he could live in this moment forever.
His movements are slow and deliberate. It's enough to send your heart pumping, your chest heaving, your breath coming in short gasps. When you meet his steely gaze, it feels like his mechanical eye is bearing into your soul.
River moves a palm up to cup your cheek lovingly, before nodding his head in the direction of his bed— a silent command. You immediately know what he’s attempting to communicate. You know what comes next.
And you’re just dying to see it through.
A little rush of pure excitement overtakes you as you rush to the bed, while River turns around for a brief moment. Without a second thought, without any semblance of hesitation, you’re immediately beginning to fumble with the straps of your gear, allowing it to fall all to the ground. Every movement of yours feels like a wave of electric pulsing through your body, a rush of adrenaline that leaves you panting— leaving your mind blurry with need.
While he’s got his back turned, you rip off your sweats, letting them fall to the ground. Immediately after, you’re ripping off the thin tank you’re wearing, slipping your bra right off with it, fully exposing your bare chest to the coolness of the night air. A little excited shiver runs down your spine, your nipples perking up and stiffening as a result of the temperature drop.
And before you know it, you’re almost naked— wearing nothing but a soaked, think pair of panties, wanting him, needing to have him—not Johnny, but River, just River…
You catch the soft mechanical glow of his eye in the mirror on the closet door. For a brief moment, your breath catches in your throat.
The glow in the reflection dims as he stares. Your heart beats so fast you feel dizzy from the rush. You know he’s watching you just as you’re watching him. And without saying a word, you both know what you want— he finally turns around.
Fuck—you, the most dangerous mercenary in the whole fuckin’ city, is laying before this dumbass detective, wearing nothing but your panties. And oh, you’re so helplessly wet over some cop to the point where you can already feel the moisture soaking through them. You can’t control yourself, you can’t control the way your fingers keep on trailing lower, beginning to push away the dampened strip of fabric in between your legs.
A breath breaks from your mouth as you toss your panties aside. It’s sudden, a bit of a surprise even. But you’re done wasting time. The air feels cold on your exposed cunt, but fuck, you don’t care—besides, the heat he’s making you feel is enough to keep ya’ warm.
Gently, your lips tremble with each passing moment... your body is fuckin’ craving him more and more with every moment that passes with him staring directly at your messy pussy. You can’t take it. You allow yourself to be completely vulnerable, your arms trailing behind you as he draws near. Your eyes flutter as you anticipate him being near, letting him take you completely... letting him take you in.
River’s eyes are locked onto your body— he’s in shock. Fuck. Jesus Christ, every second you’re up looking at him with pathetic, needy eyes makes his cock tremble in his pants. Both of River’s eyes, amber and mechanical pierce through you, just craving you in ways he's never craved fuckin’ anyone. And oh, you love the euphoric burning feeling that rises in your tummy when you feel him stare. A little blush settles across your face, you feel some wetness slide down from your aching cunt. You arch your back a little as River approaches you.
Fuck. You can’t wait. You reach out, pulling your fingers tight around his hips as you pull him down to the bed with you. You can't wait another second to be with him and you pull him down with you on the bed. Before he can even process what’s happening, you’re beginning to lift his tanktop, and by Christ, you’re not disappointed when you finally reveal what’s underneath.
You’re not religious, but in the darkness of his bedroom, you’ve found something holy. Immediately, your eyes trail down, taking note of every little freckle and scar that litters his tan skin. Fuck— he’s perfect. You press your lips against his chest, trailing little wet kisses down his body... each kiss burning into both of you, each kiss driving you both that much closer to desperation. You’re unaware of the self-restraint he's exercising to keep himself from pushing you onto the bed and just fucking you right then and there. River’s working every ounce of self-control he has as you trail your lips down his chest, letting each kiss linger just enough to tease him.
In the dark room, you worship him with your touch, with a love that’s so undoubtedly wrong.
Your eyes drift up to his, and it’s over for you both. Gently, you slide your hands slooowly down River’s torso, making him squirm as your hand trails lower and lower, fingers beginning to move to slowly undo his pants. And fuck, It takes him every little bit of lasting resistance and strength he has to let you touch without intervening.
But shit— you aren’t gonna let River off that easy, no fucking way. You’re gonna fuckin’ savor this—every second of it all. Your lips trail down his clothed thigh with a subtle grin, wrapping your fingers around the waistband of his boxers, slowly pulling them down inch by inch. He wants you to pull them off immediately but you're going slow, savoring every little cute expression he’s pulling, savoring the way he bites into his lip, hard.
River’s getting more and more frustrated by the second but damn you're just enjoying the thrill of it all, watching your most favorite detective bend to your whims like an obedient, well-trained dog. You're teasing him and savoring each and every second of it, every little moment of him letting out pathetic heavy sighs, every moment of his cock straining against the fabric of his jeans.
But you’re growing impatient.
You begin to tug at his waistband, attempting to pull his jeans down his thighs with a not-so-secret smug-ass grin. You’ve got him wrapped around your fuckin’ finger, you feel confident—you’re gonna fuck the badge outta him— you’re gonna ride him till the goddamn sun rises.
But when his cock springs free from the confines of his pants, your ego is absolutely fucking wiped. He’s fucking huge.
Prominent veins run up the side of the thick shaft throbbing with pure anticipation. Your eyes trail up to the leaky, swollen tip where little beads of precum threaten to spill. Pure perfection. Everything about your actions up until now has been so confident and so sure, so controlled and so certain you could handle anything. But now that he's here— that he's out, free, and soooo clearly ready for you — you feel an intense wave of doubt.
You're the best, most badass fuckin’ merc in all of Night City—and yet here you are, with his dick in front of your face and you're speechless. River’s enjoying how you're staring at him, your eyes fixated on his shaft. Secretly, he loves the brief sense of control this is giving him, even with you on top. Fuck, it does good for his ego.
By Christ— he finds your reaction to his size nothing short of fucking adorable. River gives a sharp inhale through his teeth and his lips curve into a mischievous smile, his ego swelling with the realization that he's a lot more than you expected...and he loves it. He knows all the right words to say, all the right tones to take, and he knows exactly how to play with you, right down to the way you're staring at him.
Nonetheless, you set your thoughts aside as you mount the detective’s strong bronze thighs, his eyes locking onto yours.
You briefly question your safety as you tenderly wrap your fingers around the base of his thick shaft, feeling him jolt beneath you.
But it's okay. You've got this. You can do this. You take a deep breath and try to ignore the size, your hands still stroking him gently, your touch sending shivers of anticipation up and down his body…
His hand wraps around your thigh in silent reassurance, a giant grasp that feels like it was molded entirely for you to fit perfectly into it; and the other falls to your hip, slowly tracing a path across your bare skin. The little gesture sends you fucking wild. River needs you to be comfortable.
You press the tip of his cock against your dripping entrance, a little shiver runs through you when River stifles a groan underneath.
This all feels so right, this all feels so real, and River wants you to know that. He wants to take all of your fears and worries away, to show you that he's got you, and he's here for you. And when you take your first tentative slide onto him, the tip entering you, River’s jaw hangs agape, a little squeak leaving your lips as the thick head enters you.
You both recognize the need to be silent, and so for now the only sounds in the room are the soft moans and subtle whimpers coming from River's mouth as he's pressed against you...as you're pressed against him, two bodies entwined, one in the other. Nothing else exists at this very moment but this feeling... the intense, overwhelming feeling of his heavy cock throbbing inside of your tight walls. And oh, does the thought of making this dumbass detective whimper and struggle beneath you motivate you all the more.
When you finally sink down, filling yourself to the brim, a cute little gasp! is forced from your parted saliva-coated lips. River’s stretching you out so so nicely— it’s a sweet type of burn. You dig your teeth into your bottom lip hard, biting back a pathetic moan as your eyes scrunch shut.
A low growl escapes River’s lips as you suddenly take him whole in one go.
Your wet walls constrict and clench around him, your achy, needy clit pressing against his groin. Oh fuck, it’s hard for him not to start moving his hips, to just start thrusting into your pathetic mess of a pussy without mercy. But no, he’s waiting for you, waiting for you to guide the speed. This is your night, it’s River’s chance to show how much he fuckin’ adores you.
He's big— and you know you need to take it slow at first. But fuck, you’re not gonna stop, not now, not ever, not when he’s looking up at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes upon— it’s sending little waves of euphoric bliss throughout your entire body.
River watches you take another deep breath before you begin to raise your hips again, pumping yourself full despite the stretch.
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. You continue this rhythm slowly, taking your own sweet time to thoroughly feel each inch of his sweet cock rubbing against your soaked walls.
In, out. In, out. You continue this rhythm.
You work through that burn— you work through the pain of the stretch. Take your own sweet time, inhaling, exhaling, breathing in between each movement, each wave of pleasure that ripples through your body with each bounce. Soon, you no longer feel the pain that comes with each slide down; you’ve melded to the shape of his cock.
Shit, he underestimated you.
River’s breathing heavily now, huffing and biting into his lip—as he takes his time, taking care of you. And the moment he finds your rhythm, he won't be letting up even for a second, he’s gonna make you suffer just the damn same.
But when you begin to speed up your pace, suddenly slamming your hips down into him, you’ve got him locked.
Then and there, River swears he’s in fucking heaven.
You’re so tight— so fucking soft… so fucking heavenly, that he can’t do anything except look up at you and purely just admire as you struggle to take him—as he himself struggles to keep up with the pace of your hips.
River’s pussywhipped already, turning his head to the side to hide the adorable little faces he’s pulling.
But fuck, you’re not gonna let that happen.
“Look at me,” you whisper into the silence of the night. You force his jaw upwards, wrapping your hands around his throat. “Only me, Riv.”
River’s caught off guard by your sudden display of dominance; but oh, how he loves it regardless. ‘Looks like his little mercenary finally gained the courage to take control,’ he thinks to himself.
You catch a little mischievous glimmer in his mechanical eye, shining into the darkness. He’s enjoying this, you can tell.
You stare into his gaze for just a brief moment; almost mesmerized, before suddenly pulling his face to yours and kissing him fiercely, your tongue slipping into his mouth.
River’s strong grip on your thigh releases as his body begins to tremble underneath you; it all just feels too fucking good. It’s all too too much, the intensity of your hips rocking back and forth, the way you’re squeezing him and bouncing on his dick like it’s nothing compared to before.
He knows you’re a merc, knows you’re a tough girl. You’re V— you don’t take shit from anyone, you take the reigns no matter what; he shoulda’ expected this from you. But oh, how he loves being bested by his lil’ merc.
River’s eyes roll back as he holds you tightly to him, his hands moving up to your lower back and supporting you, he’s lost all self-control, and can’t stop what's about to happen as his breath grows heavier, lips parting. You’re fucking wet, clenching so so tight around him—he can’t help the groan that juuusst barely escapes his lips…
But luckily for you, you cover his mouth just in time, your body still moving with such intensity. You're taking total control here, not letting him make a sound. You cover his mouth before he has the chance to protest, silencing him in an almost aggressive, dominating way, your breath hot against his lips.
At this moment, the detective is yours. Every muscle in his body belongs to you and every beat of his heart is for you. River is yours, he needs you, and when you cover his mouth, you can feel the rush going through his throat as it contracts with an effort to muffle any sound he might unintentionally let slip as your hips refuse to relent.
The feeling of control that you've been so desperately seeking is finally yours, all yours, your hands are on the wheel— and you’re the one sending this poor fucker into a tailspin of pleasure and lust. River feels so much better than you possibly could’ve imagined, and shit, you’ve finally accomplished your goal to fuck him senseless, leaving him a complete and utter mess in your control — a mess that feels so good, as you keep pumping against him, feeling him inside you.
Every movement you make is met with his equally intense counter-response, his cock beginning to throb. Fuck. He’s close.
But River’s not going to let you get ahead of him— nuh-fucking-uh. He’s had enough of your teasing; he can’t take it anymore— he’s not about to let himself cum before you, not when there’s so much fun still left to be had. He’ll drive himself to the edge— and he’ll take you with him.
Strong hands take hold of your hips, hammering his hips into your sweet, messy cunt at the pace he desires. Just like that, all the control in your hands, all that dominance, and power beforehand, is gone in an instant.
He wants to let you ride him, he really does. Wants to let you take control— but fuck, it’s not enough. He needs more, not just to ride, but to have you in his arms, and in return, you let him take control and show you exactly how he feels for you.
And so you give up your control, giving up your dominance, allowing River to manhandle you into position, guiding you to the edge of the bed. Your breath catches in your chest as River trails his lips down to your collarbone and slowly reaches down to latch onto your nipple. You dig your teeth into your lip as he suckles at it tenderly, keeping your reaction a secret as you try to keep it together. Inside of you, you feel your tummy flutter with adrenaline as your heart rate picks up.
He knows you’re enjoying this, but oh, he’s got other plans for you.
With strong yet gentle hands, he’s hoisting you up into his arms. His amber eye meets yours, and he’s gazing at you like you’re the most precious thing in the whole world. He lifts you, and you let yourself go limp in his hold— you know you’re safe, after all.
You bury your head into his neck, pressing tight against him as you cling like your life depends on it. Everything feels so good when you’re in River’s arms when he loosens his grip to trail a path of wet kisses down the center of your chest. The way he feels so warm and safe makes you feel like the whole world isn’t crumbling down on you— instead, it feels like you can finally rest.
Honestly, it’s just entirely him that makes you feel this way. He’s a stark contrast to any of your past lovers; a genuine shining light in a world so filled to the brim with darkness, a genuine positive change compared to the ways apparent in all of your exes.
Shit, you know Johnny’s gonna hate you even more for this, but you know you love this— you love River.
Before you can think about it for any longer than you already have, he’s cutting your thoughts short to pull you to your feet, pinning you against the cool glass of his bedroom window.
Fuck, you’re adorable to him. River just can’t help but slide his palms up against your soft skin, all the way up to cup at your titties, cupping them softly in each hand.
You let out a sharp gasp as he slips in, a deep inhale following quickly after— his hips pressing into your ass. You feel the heat of his breath against your neck as you cling to the cool glass of the window. You want him close, you want to feel him all against you. Your thoughts fill with nothing but him, and his cock begins to roll into you again, forcing a pathetic little squeak out of you.
But there’s a sudden thought that pops into your head— shit, what if someone sees this, sees you, pressed against the window, getting your insides rearranged like there’s no tomorrow? Fuck.
Shit, you feel more vulnerable than ever with River pressing himself into you, hands locked around your waist, his breath hot and heavy in your ear as he drives himself deeper into your sopping cunt. Him, the detective, fucking the brains outta’ a dangerous lil’ merc like you. Shit, it’s so thrilling that the thoughts in your head disappear entirely, and you're completely overcome with the sensation of his thick member moving in and out of you.
God damn. Your breath becomes shallow and your chest is rising and falling with every hard press of his hips into your ass. You're literally pressed against the glass with your face to the window, your eyes beginning to close.
Even though your brain screams for common sense, your body craves otherwise.
Oh god, you love this. Fuck your common sense. Fuck whatever Johnny has to say about it— you’ll deal with him later.
You feel like you're falling into a trance, drowning in pleasure. Every thrust fills you with more and more heat and waves of pleasure, overwhelming your body and leaving you feeling like you're drifting away into nothingness.
Your vision blurs and the sounds slowly fade into the background. River is everything, your entire world, and right now the only thing you can concentrate on is his body and how good he makes you feel— he’s stretching out your cunt fucking delightfully. It feels like you're drowning in pleasure and you love it, absolutely love this feeling of complete submission to him. Normally, you’d fucking never let somebody, anybody, do this to you.
But River Ward is the exception.
You love the feeling of his breath on your neck, the soft, warm comfort it gives you, like a blanket wrapping itself against you. Your body relaxes as he gently moves his hands along your ribs, his gentle touch sending a shiver of excitement down your body. Then you hear his voice, a whisper that makes your toes curl with the touch.
River’s attention is set on suppressing his little groans of pleasure by lowering his head to your shoulder, biting down gently. Shit, you’re almost too much to handle, he notes your breathlessness and sense of being soo overwhelmed- he can tell you’re ready for anything and everything from this moment on. Your walls constrict tightly around him, arousal fluids spilling from your hole with each mean thrust.
Your breath is heavy and unfocused. River’s touch is perfectly balanced between soft and rough, squeezing your waist as his other hand digs into your breast, hips still deliciously rolling into you, still deliciously fucking you.
You can't even remember the last time you've felt this.. good.
Despite the burn of the stretch of his cock, you steady your legs back, rocking your ass back against him to match the pace of his thrusts.
River’s eyes shoot open when he feels your tight cunt starting to move up and down his length again, this time without his influence. Both his intimidating gaze and his large hands immediately fall to the fat of your ass as a groan rips out from his throat.
He’s just enjoying the show as his pretty needy little merc attempts to get herself off. It’s cute— pathetic, the way you take him whole, the way you’re desperate for more.
You feel the cool press of his metal hand against the back of your neck, using you as leverage to pump his hot cock in and out.
Your lips curl against the force of your teeth, the heat of your breath fogging against the glass, legs beginning to violently shake under the weight of his thrusts.
Both hands move to grab your plush thighs with a tight grip, your breathless sighs and tight cunt squeezing around him let him know just how much you really need him.
You wanna moan. You wanna whine out his name, you wanna beg for more— but you can't. Not this time. So, you bite into your lip hard, your open palms set on the glass of the window briefly curling into fists. Instead of submitting to yourself, you focus on the brightness of neon lights and towering buildings right before your eyes, you focus on the way his hands dig into the soft flesh of your hips, driving deep inside.
But it’s all too much for you.
"Fuck, V, you're good…” His voice is hot as it trails down your neck and along your jawline. Gentle hands begin to trail down your thighs, fingers tracing along your skin. Oh, it’s heavenly.
River’s eyes open when he doesn’t hear you respond past weak, breathy little sighs. A teasing remark sits on his tongue, his lips curling into a smirk, but his throat goes parched the moment his eyes trail all the way down to where his large, swollen cock disappeared in and out of you, just stretching you oh-so-well.
You look utterly and completely debauched in the reflection of the glass, eyes closed, cheek pressed up against the window, your mouth slightly agape, lips reddened and bruised from rough kisses. River finds the way your chest heaves and the way you let out broken whines oh-so-adorable, as his eyes trail down to the plethora of lovebites and hickies left strewn across your chest. At this point, you’re far too fucked-out to think.
Before you can even process what’s going on, River’s slipping himself out of you, making you let out a soft, yet audible little defeated whine. “Hey, hey…” Big arms lock around your waist, pulling you gently down onto the soft mattress below. “Stay with me, V…”
His voice is hot and hoarse right now— but fuck, you’d be damned if you didn’t find him to be so fuckin’ sweet— so fuckin’ adorable in the way he talks dirty to you— so damn possessive, yet so soft and tender at the same time. The sweet burn of lust ignites deeper within your stomach as you refuse to lose sight of his gaze. You nod your head; you follow his orders obediently. The feeling of being vulnerable like this for him feels so... right, so natural.
When your glassy eyes flicker up to meet his stare, his heart flutters a little in his chest. You look so so desperate, it’s beautiful.
River swears he’s truly gone feral. It’s all too much— your cute little face, your quiet whimpers, wet pathetic pussy so in need of being fucking destroyed… god. He can’t handle it anymore.
He drops to his knees on the bed— it feels natural, it feels right. Your breath halts a little in your chest, your pulse quickening when the detective begins to lower his head in between your thighs.
The world around you spins as your cunt squeezes around nothing. His rough fingertips grace over your clit, and you can’t hold back the little moan that escapes your lips. But he’s focused on something different— his cybernetic eyes are locked onto your cunt— your folds are soaked, your arousal coating your inner thighs in little tendrils.
“Wan’it?”
You nod again. Like an obedient dog.
River grins, mechanical eye gleaming in the darkness mischievously as his metal hand helps his cock press against your entrance. Something about his gravelly words made your cunt clench around nothing, making you drip onto his sheets below. His tip brushes against your sensitive sloppy folds, before he nudges your clit with his cockhead, drawing out the cutest little gasp from your lips. River chuckles at your reaction— fuck, you’re goddamn adorable. He uses his free ganic hand to caress your cheek, looking down at you like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen.
The feeling of his palm pressed against you is soothing, comforting even. You nuzzle into his touch instinctively.
It’s all a sweet, tender moment before River begins folding your legs up to your shoulders. You don’t have a second to think back on it before his thighs spread wider beneath you, the girth of his large cock sliding in deep, pressing thickly against your fluttering walls.
Fuck. You almost lose yourself, then— lips falling agape, nails biting into the curvature of his bicep as his hips press flush with your own. You want to moan. You wanna cry out— so so fucking bad.
But you know you can’t.
Shit, River swears he could bust on the spot from the way you pathetically look at him, pupils blown and watery, eyes halfway shut. “Awh,” he whispers near silently before he braces himself and pulling your hips up to his waist, leaving your back arched gorgeously. You feel completely full again.
His hips are finally still, giving you both a moment to recuperate. This time around, your cunt clenches down extra tight, your body seeming extra sensitive. He can read your reactions like a book— and he’s enjoying every little cute reaction he’s pulling out of you.
River hums to himself, before straightening back again. He pulls out all the way— till just his aching tip is left throbbing inside of you.
And all you can do is watch when he rocks back in and out again and again as if testing how deep he’s claimed his pretty little killer.
But with a muddled mind and blurry eyes, you’re more focused on how he’s moving, the way his body moves back and forth inside you, claiming you. Your instincts kick in as this strong man overpowers you and takes control of you most dangerously, but you accept it all. Just the feeling of his hands on your hips, his touch all over you as you look at him...fuck, you feel complete. You’re a dangerous merc in her prime, and yet here you are, fucked absolutely dumb by River Ward. Fuck, old man’s got some goddamn stamina, it’s impressive.
But secretly, he’s not sure if he can take it anymore— the pace of his hips falter for a second. Fuckkkkk. He grasps onto the meat of your thighs, his hips beginning to falter, slow down; his thighs beginning to tremble.
The overstimulation that comes with dragging his cock in and out of your tight pussy might just be the catalyst for him. He uses his remaining strength to hold himself deep inside of his lil’ merc, relishing the way you dig your nails into the curve of his bicep as he fucks into you steadfastly.
Now, it's you who's not sure if you can take it anymore. You can feel his hips slowing down, his grip on you faltering as he struggles to pull himself together. Your nails dig into his arms, digging deeper each time you feel that familiar feeling building up within you. Your thighs start trembling as your entire body is quaking underneath his...it's about to be all over for you.
You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to control yourself like he had when you were trying to lure him deeper into you, but the build-up of pressure inside of you is too much to contain...it's beginning to spill over as the tension between you two builds up even higher. Your eyes continue to flutter with each slide in, and you’re panting at the burning euphoric release beginning to bubble in your chest. It’s all too much for you— far too much.
River’s dick knocks against your plushy walls over and over again, making your breaths ragged and short, making you spew out little high-pitched hoarse sighs as he claims you as his own after waiting for sooo long.
Every thrust inside of you has you trembling, panting, trembling again—your body can't take this anymore, the build-up is beginning to turn into a burst within you. You close your eyes, squeezing them shut tightly as this burning euphoric release inside of you is simply too much....too much for you to handle. Your entire body feels like it's boiling over, the pressure inside of you reaching an all-time high.
The pressure building up in your tummy is too much to handle. You’ve resisted your orgasm, you’ve fought it, but suddenly the need for release becomes too difficult to hold back. Your body jolts up and you press your chest against him as you release, panting and whimpering as the pressure inside you is finally releasing. Finally, you cum, coating River’s cock in a ring of opaque white liquid.
The feeling of relief spreads through your entire body as you release, feeling your body tense and shudder with your inner pleasure flowing out of you as you moan out his name and you feel his grip tightening the harder that you bite into his arm, holding back from saying anymore even though you know you can’t keep it in anymore. Your lips quiver with anticipation as you feel the build-up of pleasure rise inside of you, and it’s so hard not to just explode but you hold back as he thrusts faster inside you.
His hands are shaky under the weight of your trembling thighs, underneath the weight of your explosive climax. His thrusts slow down to a halt, both his mechanical and ganic hands gripping your waist tight.
Deliberately, he slides himself all the way out, making you feel every inch of his cock down to the last vein, before slamming himself back inside one last time.
No longer can he stand the feeling of holding back— he needs to cum.
Every pump of his hips is accompanied by a short shudder and an exhale of your name as he’s losing himself to you, to the grip and clutch of your nails digging deeper into his arms. You know he’s close. And oh, is every little sign of his oncoming orgasm so so heavenly— the way his cock noticeably throbs within your constricting, gummy, tight walls— the way he’s allowing the occasional whimper to slip from his parted lips.
Your entire body’s trembling and quaking as he pulls away from you, both in the act of withdrawal and the satisfaction of fulfilling what he’s sought after for so long now. You’re breathless from his touch, quivering in your body, your eyes unable to focus on anything but the sight of him biting his lip…he's so so close to cumming— it’s all so damn delicious.
His mechanical hand presses into your thigh, the heat of his grip burning deep against your skin as he strokes his length, his breath shallow as he looks down at you, his eyes focused. River’s metal hand grips meanly into your thigh as his ganic’ one strokes his length, biting down hard into his lip to suppress himself.
Instead of gazing back into his eyes, you’re gazing down at his glistening dick as he finally cums— the liquid is thick, warm, and milky, all splattering onto your lower stomach.
The feel of his release all over you leaves you gasping as reality sets in. Once the heat disappears and the sensation finally dies down, you’re left with a whole new wave of emotions that you haven’t ever experienced before. Your body is still shaking from the release, and his breath is heavy as he looks down at you. You two are a mess.
River lays down there next to you, panting heavily as he stares over at you. His breathing is quick and heavy, and he's completely out of breath from the entire night, but he's smiling slightly, a look in his eyes that seems almost...relieved and content. You can’t help but to just admire how fuckin’ adorable he is before he reaches over to brush your hair aside, wiping the sweat from your forehead.
River’s soft with you— in your line of work, there’s no room for this much tenderness. You melt underneath his touch, a satisfied little sigh escaping you as your eyes flutter shut. You’re finally feeling comfortable enough to relax with him, to let your guard down and allow yourself to be a little soft with him. You feel at ease with him— finally at peace with not having to constantly be on high alert. You can relax.
But River’s all too aware of the mess he’s left you with. Gently, he lowers himself to you, softly murmuring in your ear.
“Just one sec, V… gotta get you cleaned up.”
As he stands, you're left helpless and vulnerable. The warmth of his touch is gone, replaced by a chill that leaves you feeling a little empty. Rivers' footsteps echo in the silent space between you as you lie there, alone in your thoughts.
The intimacy between the two of you may have faded, but the lingering after-effects remain. Your body is still trembling from the release, and your mind is clouded with the remnants of ecstasy. You’re left feeling vulnerable and exposed. A mess.
As River's footsteps echo through the room, you feel helpless and weak. Your body has been taken by him, and you’re left behind. To be cleaned up. You're his.
When he returns, he has a soft, warm towel in one hand, and one of his tanktops in the other. He places the tank top down on the bed right next to you. River's hand reaches out and starts to gently wipe down your body with the cloth, working to clean up the mess left behind. His touch is gentle, tender, and caring. You appreciate his efforts to clean up the mess he's left you with.
You feel like a mess, his mess. His hands are gentle and meticulous as he cleans you up, his touch different from the rough grip you felt during the night. His soft touch is comforting, reassuring, and so at odds with the intensity of the night. Yet, at the same time, it shows the other side of the intense man you know so well. The delicate one, hidden from the world.
He’s not squeezing or gripping tightly— just gently wiping you down, making sure not to squeeze too hard as he does his best to get you clean. His touch is tender he begins wiping you down, making sure to avoid the more sensitive areas like your inner thighs, and before making his way up with the soft cloth.
You feel yourself close to slipping away into a deep sleep, only for his warm voice to pull you back into the present.
“Hey…V,” River murmurs softly. “Got a shirt for you…” He’s grinning as he holds up a crumpled-up tank top he had set aside earlier— a small grin forming around your lips as you see the words “FUCK THE POLICE” printed across the front.
”Figured you’d like it…” he chuckles faintly, holding it up for you to take.
Despite your exhaustion, a little giggle leaves your lips at the sight of the printing on the front. Fuck, he’s adorable. River’s smile is contagious, filling you with a type of fondness you haven’t experienced in a long goddamn time. You graciously accept the shirt, sliding it over your head, a soft sigh escaping you as it settles over your frame. The fabric is soft, and it keeps you covered from the coolness of the night air. It’s a little big on you, but you like it that way— it’s comfy, and you’re beyond grateful for the little gesture.
River slides into bed next to you, remaining silent as he watches settle. His eyes wander up and down your body, appreciating the way the fabric of his shirt hangs loosely around your frame. He likes the look, and it’s cute. It’s not something he’s used to, but the sight of you like this— it’s endearing to him.
You can feel the exhaustion creeping in, settling into your bones after the long day's events. As he watches you settle in, you can sense his silent appreciation and affection, his gaze tracing the lines of your body with a softness you haven't often encountered.
"Thanks for tonight," River murmurs, his voice filled with gratitude and a hint of weariness as a yawn interrupts his words. He briefly presses a little kiss to your forehead, before rolling over. "Goodnight, V."
His words linger in the air, carrying a sense of appreciation and tenderness that touches your heart. With a soft smile, you reply, "Goodnight, River…" before snuggling closer to him, seeking his warmth as the chill of the night settles in around you.
The two of you lay there, entangled in the silence of your first night together. All you can hear is the sound of his breath against your throat, the silent rustle of his sheets, and the faint thrum of his heart. You feel so safe, so warm, so loved in his arms. River radiates a sense of peace within you, one that you hadn't felt on your own. And with him comes a feeling of protection, a feeling of belonging.
#joce writes#river ward#river ward x reader#river ward x v#cyberpunk 2077#fem v#cyberpunk smut#cyberpunk2077#river ward romance#river ward x fem v#cyberpunk2077 fanfic#cyberpunk2077 writing
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It’s really cute that you’re gonna defeat me with the power of friendship and all but again I am The Devil from The Bible™ so I dunno how well that’s gonna work.
You motherfucker you didn’t let me finish!
Uh huh, go ahead.
I have all this power in my hands!-
Yeahadededed shut up shutthefuckup I’m The De- I don’t care! I do not care! You don’t understand I came down here as a joke to have Fun- [inhale] this is not- this means nothing! To me! THIS MEANS NOTHING TO ME! Alright? You mean NOTHING to me! YOU and your little friends, are fuckin annoying. This is why I stay down in hell, this is why punish SINNERS. I am the good guy, do you realize I AM THE GOOD GUY HERE? I AM THE WINNER OF- OF EVERYTHING. God goes up and he plays with all his little friends like “awyweah look I donated to charity” or whatever abaablabeh
AH
I getta kill people- I getta poke people with HOT STICKS. ALL DAY. It’s great- GIMME THOSE, YOU DON’T GET THOSE YOU LOST YOUR Stupid little privilages! Fuck you! Dipshit!
Oh god!
Go to space!
[wheezing] ohh what the ff-
Look, I can do this!
[laughter]
I can do this! Anytime I want! This is nothing to me! You are nothing to me! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! THIS IS MY BIG FUCKING THING
Oh my god he’s fucking losing it entirely. I haven’t seen this since, well-
Why don’t you answer my chats in your chatbox?- I have the sub badge, 12 months. You never acknowledge me, not even once. And I came here from Hell to have Fun with you, I’m your biggest fan! I’ve been with ya since day 1 I got first badge. I was your first subscriber, and you don’t pay attention to me. I was with you through your candidacy, I was with you through your Sin Points- We went to chuck e cheese- you got me the little parachute’n trooper boy- and yet you won’t acknowledge me! You still just leave me in the dust every single day…
The Dust?!
THE DUST.
#Snapcube#Shadow the hedgehog#real time fandub#shadow fandub#This whole bit ruined me I had to write it out
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💙 A Trikey Lookbook 🧡
Here’s a collection of some fun Trikey stuff. I forgot Tumblr has a 10 image limit, so I had to combine some images, and there’s definitely going to be a part 2 and possibly part 3 because I have so many things in my gallery.
Warnings: Talk of violence but nothing too graphic, rude comments over weight, explicit language, sexual innuendos and but no actual smut.
Michael watches with a disapproving look as Trevor hangs up newspaper articles and images of their various dealings across town.
“T, do you have to hang it like it’s fuckin’ artwork?” Michael huffs, pointing at the paper on the upper left. “I feel like I’m comin’ too close to landing my ass in jail. That Lawrence guy named me for Christ’s sake — and it’s your fault!”
Trevor smirks. “Ah, come on, Mikey! It slipped out. Whats the big deal? We’ll be in a new town tomorrow.”
“The big deal is that I prefer not to have my name plastered on the evening news!”
“Relax,” Trevor rubs his hand up and down Michael’s tricep. “Wear it like a badge of honor. Your name is in the paper, and those idiots still have no idea who you are. You’re a fuckin’ legend!”
At that, Michael finally cracks a smile. “Yeah, I guess.”
“And you’re hot, too,” Trevor says while taping up the sticky note next to Michael’s picture, his smirk growing as he listens to the shorter man laugh beside him.
“Now that I knew already.”
“Don’t get cocky.”
Overplayed Christmas songs and the faint smell of gingerbread fill the house. Michael can barley make out the sound of Amanda griping to her father over his questions about her chosen profession and when she was going to “grow up.”
He knows he should be out there pretending to enjoy the family bickering and Christmas cheer, but he honestly feels like a fish out of water.
The family, the gift wrapping, the normalcy — it’s certainly better than any holiday he spent during his youth. Still, he can’t help but compare it to every year with his maniacal counterpart, Trevor.
“Mikey-boy, got those beers you were wanting,” Trevor says, dropping the six pack on to the motel bed. “I better be rewarded. It was hell out there.”
Michael glances over from his spot on the bed, his eyes immediately drawn to Trevor’s once-clean outfit that has now become disheveled and stained with dark red within the short time the man was gone. “The fuck happened?”
“This fucking family,” Trevor starts while stripping from his clothes, not bothering to warn Mike since it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before. “All I did was tell the father to watch his fucking kids before they get hit by oncoming traffic.”
Michael, knowing there’s way more to the story than his partner in crime is telling him, shoots him a look. “Jesus Christ. Did you kill him in front of his kids?”
“What? No! God, M. Who do you think I am? I killed the kids first obviously since he clearly didn’t give a shit about them,” Trevor shrugs, pulling on a fresh pair of sweatpants.
Seeing Michael’s face pale, Trevor quickly continues. “I’m kidding! Sweet Jesus. I hit a deer, so I gutted him a little for meat. You’re welcome.”
Michael sighs softly, relieved that Trevor hasn’t done anything to prematurely set off alarm bells to local authorities for their next score. “Sorry, T. Just on edge, I think.”
“Come on,” Trevor grabs the beer pack and pulls Michael up by his hand, leading him over to their portable oven. “Let’s bake some cookies, probably ruin them since that’s our tradition, and then just watch one of those fruity fuckin’ movies you like.”
A knock on the door brings Michael out of his flashback, and a few seconds later, Amanda‘s head pops through the door, followed by her hands holding two decorated Christmas cookies.
“Hey, what are you doing?” Amanda asks, gesturing to the letter beneath his hand.
“Nothing, nothing,” He stands up, dropping the marker, vowing to finish the letter later and send it out in the morning. “I’m coming.”
He grabs the sugar cookie out of her hand and takes a bite as he follows her back into the living room. Somehow, the golden brown cookie with a soft center and a delicate balance of sweetness is no match for the dry and crumbly cookie sporting burnt edges and artificial flavors that he’s used to tasting every year with Trevor.
God, he misses him.
“How the hell did you even get into my office without security stopping you?”
Trevor looks up from his office chair at the Vanilla Unicorn to see Michael standing over him. “What?”
“This,” Michael drops the paper in front of the other man. “What does this mean, Trev? I thought we were over this shit.”
“First of all, Michael, I will decide when we are over it,” Trevor snaps. “Second — can’t a guy joke around anymore without there being some deeper, psychological reason for it?”
“With you? I think there’s always a deeper, psychological reason,” he grins. “But c’mon, how’d you get this in the studio?”
“I’m a seasoned robber, pork chop. Don’t you think I could get in without anyone knowing?”
“Uh, you’re more the type to be so loud and brash that everyone ends up knowing you’re there.”
Trevor shrugs, knowing his running buddy has some sort of point. “Alright, I told them we were married, and I needed to see you.”
Michael laughs, but his amusement is short lived when Trevor’s face stays earnest. “You didn’t.”
“I sure did, Mikey. And a few of those assholes weren’t very supportive, so you need to watch the company you keep, man.”
“Trevor! I work with those people! They all know I’m married to Amanda. What did they say? Were they shocked?”
“Not one soul was shocked,” Trevor huffs out a laugh. “Eighty percent of Vinewood is in the closet.”
Michael falters. “But … I’m not. I’m not —”
“I think we both know that’s not true, sugar.”
First dates. They were one hundred and ten percent first dates — or were they? What even is a date?
Longing looks, some sort of nerves, maybe a sprinkle of sexual tension for a lot of people — Christ. By that definition, he and Trevor had been on nothing but dates their whole lives with one another.
It’s not that Michael didn’t know there is something between them, but what that something is often eluded him.
He had miraculously talked Trevor into going to a Los Santos Panic game. Neither guy was a sports fanatic — Trevor choosing to forgo watching sports altogether for the most part because, in his words, “if I wanted to watch a bunch of guys touch balls, I’d just watch porn,” and Michael was undoubtedly more of a movie buff since most games only reminded him of what could have blossomed out of his high school football career.
Nonetheless, Michael indulged in a game or two — if not for the game itself, at least for the buttered popcorn and greasy hotdogs.
“You know that shit is bad for you, right? One day, I’m going to have to call the paramedics to haul your fat carcass out of the bed after you have a heart attack in your sleep.”
Michael rolls his eyes before halfheartedly giving Trevor a shove. “Ha, ha. Very funny, cocksucker.”
“It’s not a mean insult if it’s true, Mikey.”
Their next “date” is at Beachwalk Bistro near Vespucci Beach. Both men slipped into some unspoken agreement that they are delicately walking the line between friendship and more.
Michael fidgets with his napkin, glancing over at Trevor who seems uncharacteristically uneasy as well. The air crackles around them with an energy, a blend of nostalgic and unexplored feelings.
Michael clears his throat. “So, uh, how’s life?”
Trevor smirks, his eyes glistening with amusement. “How’s life? You mean since you last saw me yesterday?”
Michael gives a subtle sigh before changing the subject completely. “Amanda and I are getting divorced.”
At that, Trevor nods. “Yeah, Jimmy told me.”
A look of shock crosses Michael’s face, but before he can ask, the waiter comes over and interrupts them. They hastily place their orders before retreating into silence.
As the night unfolds, their conversation sticks — for the most part — around work, upcoming plans with Franklin and Lamar, and anything else but the emotions lingering beneath the surface. That doesn’t stop Trevor from brushing his hand against Michael’s while grabbing at his plate for a taste or Michael from taking an extra long glance at his best friend.
With plates emptied and stacked, they both leave the restaurant, choosing to make the short trek to Vespucci Beach and walk.
There is a hesitant pause before Trevor breaks the silence. “This wasn’t terrible, Mikey.”
“It was different.”
Trevor hums in agreement, a small smile on his lips. “Yeah, different. In a good way.”
Their eyes met, a shared understanding between them. The unspoken tension that’s been building since Trevor made his way back into Michael’s life gave way to a warmth that only hinted at the depth of their connection.
Michael reached out his hand and tentatively linked his fingers through Trevor’s, and the taller man reciprocated immediately by giving a subtle squeeze.
“We’ve been through a lot of fucked up shit, Trev,” Michael says, stopping along the water to look at Trevor. “I know we’ve worked through most of it by now, but I didn’t really expect things to turn out like this.”
“Life’s full of surprises, sugar.”
Their eyes meet, and suddenly one — or both — are leaning in to finally close the distance. The first brush of their lips ignits the metaphorical spark that has been smoldering for months.
As they pull back, neither man is quick to say anything. Instead, Michael just tugs on Trevor’s hand, and they head down the beach once again.
“So, Mikey. Kissing your best friend on the beach under the moonlight. A little cliche, even for you, don’t you think?”
Michael just grins and shakes his head. “What? You’ve never had a fantasy?”
“Well, there was one,” Trevor starts. “We kill a bunch of those bikers, dump their bodies in the river, then fuck in their van — or keep their bodies in the van … you know, if you’re into that.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Michael mutters. “Let’s just keep our thoughts to ourselves from now on.”
“Your loss.”
Yeah, they were definitely dates.
“You’re ‘embarrassed’ for us? You’re the one who spray-painted that in the first place!”
“I was trying to be loving,” Trevor huffs. “At least I didn’t take a picture of my meal like I’m a middle-aged white mom on Lifeinvader.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Michael says, running his hands through Trevor’s grown-out hair. “Make fun all you want. You wrote ‘Trevor plus Mikey’ on the wall. You love me.”
“Shut the fuck up before I tell Amanda about the time you wore her underwear.”
Michael points a finger at his boyfriend. “That was one god damn time, and it was only because you asked.”
Trevor laughs. “You looked pretty, sugar. Don’t worry.”
“You can’t avoid her forever, Mikey.”
Michael groans, his head resting in his hands as he lays on their shared bed. “Tracey saw the notes, T. She knows.”
“Well, we do live together now. I’m pretty sure she already knows.”
“No,” Michael drops his hands to meet Trevor’s eyes. “Christ. She knows what the notes said. How the fuck can I look her in the eyes now?”
Trevor’s face scrunches up in confusion. “You divorced her mom to shack up with her uncle. How the fuck could you look her in the eyes before?”
Michael tries to glare at him, but it doesn’t come off as menacing as years prior — it never does now. “I know you ain’t wrong, but you don’t have to say it.”
“She loves you. Stop worrying.”
“But —”
“‘No buts,” Trevor cuts him off, placing a kiss on the top of his head. “She just wants you happy. So stop moping like a sad sack of shit and come cuddle me.”
“Now who’s the one hanging shit like it’s art?”
Michael feels Trevor wrap his arms around him from behind and place a kiss on his neck. “What do you mean, T?”
“Has your memory deteriorated already? You used to hate when I’d pin up pictures of our various … activities.”
“That was different,” Michael links one of his hands with Trevor’s, who are still wrapped around his waist, and uses the other one to sort through more photos before landing on one. “Do you remember this night back in North Yankton?”
Trevor lets his gaze fall down to the photo, which shows a young Michael and Trevor sporting a buzz cut and long hair respectively. They’re standing in front of a fire, the soft glow from the flames highlighting their features. Trevor, who has one arm around the shorter man’s shoulders is flipping off the camera, and Michael is smirking up at Trevor like he just said something amusing before the flash went off.
“Sure do, pork chop,” Trevor says. “Think Brad took this one. More importantly, I couldn’t forget this night if I tried. Your questionable singing still haunts my nightmares.”
Michael chuckles, reaching for another photo. “I thought I sounded pretty good.”
“Keep dreaming,” Trevor unwraps his arms around Michael to look through the remaining photos. “Can I add stuff to this board too?”
“So long as it doesn’t scar anyone,” Michael jokes.
“No promises, Mikey.”
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With the Band
a/n: I saw the video of Joe and had to do this. I would love to go to shows and meet artists with this man. I know music means a lot to him. Also I had to make the girlfriend a concert photographer, I HAD TO. Anyways enjoying this sweet moment<3 I do not give permission to repost my work anywhere!
pairing: Joseph Quinn x fem!photographer reader
wc: 1.4k
warnings: just fluff and a bit of swearing!
You can still remember the look on Joseph’s face when he got the call from his manager. Metallica wanted to invite him out to their headlining show at Lollapalooza 2022 in Chicago. You were convinced he was like a little boy on Christmas. He was bouncing up and down the walls for weeks. Working logistics out, he was able to score a backstage pass for you as well because he wanted his best girl to experience this with him.
Sure you had been to plenty of shows with Joe, especially Haim shows as he was good friends with the youngest Alana. But meeting a legendary band the both of you grew up on, you couldn’t help but feel over the moon. Premieres, press junkets and cons later you finally found yourself in the bustling city of Chicago. The sweltering heat was no joke as you were grateful you packed a plethora of shorts, skirts and dresses. Your hotel room wasn’t too far from the festival grounds and you could see the crowds forming outside the venue.
“It doesn’t feel real,” he murmured as you walked up next to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. Your chin resting barely on his shoulder as you looked out the window towards the city’s busy landscape. “Well you aren’t dreaming that’s for sure. You worked hard for this. Everything. Not just meeting the band but the fans, the love, the attention. I know your worth and so do you.” His hands threaded with yours and the two of you stayed there a bit.
One of the many people on his team came knocking, letting the both of you know that it had been time to head to the music fest. “It’s now or never, rockstar.”
The car ride consisted of Joe practicing different jokes, lots of head banging and air guitars. Metallica blasted through the speakers of the Cadillac Escalade that held his team. You could tell he was getting nervous with the way his leg was bouncing up and down and he had been biting his thumb nail. “Hey, it’s alright baby. They are gonna love you Joe. The love that the show has brought to the Metallica fans is astounding. They would be crazy not to!” “No I know, it’s just that these guys are absolute legends and they have done so much.” “I will be right by your side, you know this.”
His hand was tightly held in yours as badges were checked in and security got through the both of you and his team. These green and lavender fabric wristbands adorned everyone’s wrists with the words “Backstage Pass” embroidered on it. It felt surreal as the two of you walked over to the private areas restricted for artists. His hand squeezing yours as signs littered with “Metallica” were becoming more apparent. “It’s all happening,” you whispered in his ear as you were jumping up and down.
A security guard told you two to wait for a minute while the band got situated. His eyes went wide in disbelief as he looked around. “Holy shit we are meeting Metallica. Fuckin’ Metallica babe,” he was going mental and it made you giggle at how excited he was becoming. That’s when he went quiet. You turned around to see a face pop around the corner. Long, curly, gray hair was falling everywhere around his face. Kirk Hammet. “Hey guys! Come in and meet the rest of the crew!” It was all happening.
Lars, James, Kirk and Robert were all there in person. You just knew you looked like a young fangirl. Joe was in a practical button up and his favorite Levi jeans paired with some worn down tan boots. You on the other hand were in a faux black leather skirt that laces up on either side. Yet, the show stopper was a corset made from a ‘Master of Puppets’ shirt. All of this paired with your favorite pair of Docs.
They had all been there in their ‘metal glory’. The lead singer stepped up taking your boyfriend’s hand, “You’re taller than on TV!” Everyone erupted in laughter as introductions were thrown around and compliments were starting to get mixed together.
The 6 of you got settled in as filming crews were plastered around to capture this gracious experience on behalf of Netflix. James and Joe immediately started going back and forth about the show and the previous seasons. You and the rest of the band watched in awe. It was unlike any other meet and greet you had done with artists. Kirk had one of his guitars cradled in his hands as he struck up a conversation with you. “Hey I understand you’re a photographer?”
This took you by surprise. “Y-yea I am! I met Joseph at a show I was working at actually!” The two of you started comparing anecdotes once James gave his thanks to your British lover when you and the 59 year old guitarist joined in along with the group. “Oh my god that was what we practically heard for two years,” you quipped up. Nodding in agreement, he added,”We feel sort of connected to you guys.” The conversation felt like it lasted an eternity when Robert pondered a great question, “You wanna jam with us?”
The flustered man to your left spouted an answer of being a bit ‘rusty’ and joked how he might need a lesson or two. The nearly 40 year old band led the way to the tuning room where the in-ears and guitars and basses were held. Drum kits with picks and sticks were everywhere. It was truly a music lover's dream. “We even got you a pair of in-ears.Not sure if you’ve used them but now you are officially a rockstar,” James explained. You sat on the other side of the room to see the love of your life get to play amongst musical geniuses.
Pictures and videos were being taken as you wanted to freeze this moment in time. Lars gave a 4 count to the beginning of the song as the three guitarists synced and Robert plucked at the strings of his bass. The all too familiar song flooded your ear canals and you moshed your head in time with the beat. As much as the two of you were repeating this, it truly was surreal.
A wide grin spread across his face as the song came to a stop but he was over the moon. He let out one of his famous giggles as Lars announced into one of the cameras that Metallica was now suiting up to be a 5 piece. Joining your boyfriend with the rest of the band, Robert brought out a rather large but flat case. Gasps from Joe and you filled the room as you clapped in surprise.
An exact replica of the NJ Warlock by B.C. Rich Guitar was gifted to your boyfriend as he dropped to his knees in a whirlwind of emotions. Your hands intrinsically went under his arms to bring him back to his feet. Tears started slipping down your face as you couldn’t hide your happiness for him. Just the kindness and atmosphere the band created for him was incredible.
“Well we could sign it for you and fuck it all up,” James nonchalantly offered. Your eyes shot straight to his, answering before your boyfriend could. “Would you mind?” A silver sharpie was being brought out as Joseph held the guitar for more stability as each member one by one autographed the special gift.
It was unspoken that pictures had to be taken. The band and Joseph. The band and you. Then eventually the lot of you.
The guitar had been gently placed back in the case as it was already being shipped back to his flat across the Atlantic. Graces, goodbyes and words of luck were exchanged in regards to the show later in the evening. Hugs and handshakes were the last thing that connected you and the band before leaving.
Small tears were coating your boyfriend’s cheeks as you walked back to your designated area. “That was incredible and I am so proud of you,” you whispered as you pulled him in for a tight and warming hug. “Most metal ever,” he mumbled. The two of you let out small laughs as he rested his forehead on yours.
“Let’s head to the stage, rockstar.”
#joseph quinn#joseph quinn fluff#joseph quinn imagine#joseph quinn drabble#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x reader#eddie the freak munson#stranger things x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson drabble#metallica#fluff
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SPOILERS FOR PA:AA—T&T RECIPE FOR TURNABOUT
I was playing through PA:AA Trials and Tribulations, and I just realized that no one talks about Recipe for Turnabout.
Why? How can no one in this fandom not go bat shit insane for Phony Phoenix? I mean look at this man
He’s bat chit insane. The madlad is literally an anti-Phoenix. He calls himself the Tiger. He growls at the jury. He’s so scary the Judge hides under his desk.
HE MAKES A FAKE ATTORNEY BADGE OUT OF CARDBOARD AND PRETENDS TO BE PHOENIX IN!!! COURT!!!!!!
AND NOBODY SAYS ANYTHING!
Gumshoe, the Judge, Maggey, AND EVEN MAYA don’t register that its NOT PHOENIX.
He’s constantly screaming. He’s growling. He tells Phoenix that for every dumb question he asks he’s gonna sue him $50,000.
HE’S BRIGHT. FUCKING. RED.
I refuse to acgnowledge this Furio Tigre erasure. That case was a fucking wild ride. That man impersonated the most popular defense attorney and almost got away with it, and it was heavily implied that he was dating the granddaughter of the
HEAD OF THE GODDAMN MAFIA.
Did I mention he roars like a tiger? I don’t think you understand. This man has AUDIO DIALOGUE THAT PLAYS EVERY TIME HE ROARS. EVEN PHOENIX HIDES UNDER HIS DESK FROM HIM.
LOOK AT THAT SUIT!!!!
And then lets step away from fuckin Tiger Phoenix for a minute.
We ALSO learn that Gumshoe is SUPER SOFT for Maggey Bryde. She gets arrested for supposedly being the murderer, and Gumshoe is in HYSTERICS. He runs around like a lost puppy doing everything he can to get Maggey out with the same if not more panic than he had when Edgeworth was arrested. AND ITS SO??? WHOLESOME?????
Like he’s SO CUTE TOO. He makes Maggey lunches, because he notices she’s been loosing weight and doesn’t want her to be unhealthy. When he understands that Maggey is mad at him because of a misunderstanding, he avoids her because she says she doesn’t want to see him, and he doesn’t want to push himself onto her.
HE’S SUCH A GENTLEMAN?? WHY DO I NOT SEE MORE MAGGEY AND GUMSHOE SHIP ART.
Not only that, but they have PERFECT ENERGY TOGETHER. They’re both like energetic dogs you can rely on. They’re excited, and they’re here to do their best. They can do no wrong.
Also, Gumshoe and Maggey LOVE the same foods and it’s adorable. You can’t change my mind; straight ships can be adorable too I’m literally a gay man call me homophobic I dare you.
ALSO JUST?? THE OTHER CHARACTERS AS WELL?????
First up we’ve got who I like to call
Grandpa Seedman (A.K.A. Victor Kudo)
What a man. What a madlad. He makes me want to dump him in a fucking silo of birdseed.
Why is he here? Why does he have all that birdseed? Why can’t he calm down and stop throwing it for five seconds? If I had to guess what Wendy Oldbag’s ex-husband would be like, this is exactly who I think it would be. They’re both insufferable to no end. Let me throw them outa window.
Then we got Monsieur Essential Oils (A.K.A. Jean Armstrong)
What In The Royal Fuck. Where are these roses coming from. Why does his restaurant look like a Hello Kitty Lolita Cafe. He’s also half a million dollars in debt. I would ask why but if you took one look in hid goddamn restaurant you would understand why. Also literally everyone in the game thinks his food is shit.
Please sir. Please you’re so gay it hurts. He’s literally April May but a guy. Actively flirts with Gotot which is pretty funny so you get some extra points.
Wednesday Addams (A.K.A. Viola Cadaverini)
So little miss is the granddaughter of a fucking MOB BOSS and she is literally true crime. Constantly mutters about offering you tea. Would be a nice gesture if the murder in this case WASNT CAUSED BY SOMEONE BEING POISONED THROUGH A DRINK also the fact that the MURDERER IS HER BOSS
She’s actually pretty chill, despite how off-putting she is. Would love to listen to true crime and watch the Twilight Zone with her. She deserves better.
THIS MOTHERFUCKER
HOW THE FUCK DID NO ONE NOTICE IT WASNT PHOENIX THE BITCH IS LITERALLY BRIGHT FUCKING RED
He also rides a teeny fuckin scooter thats like neon pink and blue which is so goddamn funny to me especially considering the fact that that tiny ass scooter caused a massive crash which he walked away from unscathed but the DRIVER was sent to the EMERGENCY ROOM and had A MILLION DOLLARS worth of surgery done.
This man can fight god and win the only reason he didn’t get away with the murder is because bitch straight up went “haha Phoenix Wright you dumb bitch thats not the poison bottle I used get your facts straight” and Godot has a fucking ANEURISM because all of these witnesses are SO FUCKING STUPID
Godot was the real victim here holy shit this fucking case was the most bat shit insane stuff how the FUCK did no one talk more about this PLEASE
TL;DR Give Recipe For Turnabout more love. It’s the most unhinged shit on the planet.
#ace attorney#phoenix wright#prosecutor godot#godot#trials and tribulations#miles edgeworth#wrightworth#detective gumshoe#dick gumshoe#recipe for turnabout#underrated#maggey byrde#magshoe#furio tigre
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Oh my gods, I can't believe I missed this. If only I was home for this, would've been fuckin amazing.
So, you guys heard about the train that crashed on the way to Anville (my hometown, way out in the sticks), right?
Turns out that a FUCKING FORGE OF TINKATON just SHOWED UP and TOOK THE DAMN TRACK
Good news, the guys at FLIP managed to negotiate with the forge and ended up giving them all to the rail workers so they wouldn't have to deport them. Massive dub, Tinks are fucking awesome and I never thought I'd get the chance to see one in person, but now I can!
Bad news, they're all already taken by the workers. They had to take them so that FLIP wouldn't have to get rid of them because, y'know, that's what FLIP is for. The FLIP guys didn't want to, so they asked the workers to catch them so that they could get away with keeping them here via a loophole. I'm in Castelia rn (oh yeah, forgot to mention, I got the badge in Virbank. I should really post more often shouldn't I) so I wasn't there. I probably could've got one for myself. Eh, it's probably better this way. I'm not that high-level yet, anyway. Actually, wait, lemme... oh shit, they can be baby. I'd just assumed that the Tink line was, like, pseudo-legendary or something. Guess I forgot that even pseudos start off small.
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The Implicit Demand For Proof (10)
Pairing: Detective David Loki x Reader
Summary: you, a forensic psychologist, get called in on a high priority child abduction case in Conyers, PA. What happens when you catch feelings for the mysterious detective Loki?
Warnings- movie level violence, guns, language, snakes, blood. (I don’t think I’m forgetting anything but y’all have seen the movie so yeah this fic describes the movie scenes)
Series master list here
A/n- I’ll admit this chapter ain’t my fave I struggled a bit but 🤷♀️ *shrug emoji *
-
You pulled up to Bob Taylor’s house seconds after Loki did.
You thought Loki would be rushing up to his door and bursting right in, but instead Loki was acting nonchalant, if Loki could ever be such a thing. He calmly got out of the car and closed the door. His eyes darted directly to you, he had this look on his face like he wanted to say something but held it back. You took the opportunity to talk instead.
“Alright so, we’ve got Bob Taylor, 37, never married, no kids. Lived in Conyers all his life. Got a 5 point match on the facial recognition scan. It’s definitely him.”
“Let’s bring this fucker in.”
The two of you began walking from the end of the driveway to the front door,
“Hey, um, good work.” Loki said, looking over at you. He maintained eye contact with you and for a moment, you felt like those baby blue eyes were looking straight into your soul.
“Oh, thanks. That’s what I’m here for, right?” You smiled at him, and you swore you saw the ends of his mouth curve up into a smile, but he looked away so you weren’t positive.
“Mhmm.” Loki hummed.
“So Dovers apartment?” You inquired, changing the subject.
“Yeah..uh, yeah. You called before he could give me the complete tour.” He said, moseying toward the front door. “But if I was hiding someone, that’s where I’d do it. Place is a wreck. Old and dilapidated.”
You hummed in response.
Once at the door, Loki knocked and you both held your badges up for the man to see once he opened it.
The door opened revealing the man and it didn’t take a forensic psychologist to see that your and Loki’s presence immediately made him nervous.
He let out the most timid ‘Hi.’ you’d ever heard.
“Mornin’. “ Loki greeted him.
While letting Loki do all the talking, you were intensely focused on body language.
Loki was cool and collected, but his stance meant he was ready to pounce at any moment. He was itching to get Bob Taylor, you could see it in his eyes. He wanted to get this guy, needed to. Watching him was like watching a predator waiting to catch its prey.
Taylor on the other hand was timid and skittish. He couldn’t hold eye contact with you nor Loki and only opened the door wide enough to talk to you two.
“Do you have children?” Loki asked, already knowing the answer.
“No.” Bob swallowed nervously. “I don’t have…have anything…” Bob tried slamming the door closed but Loki caught it and had him against the wall and onto the floor in cuffs in one fell swoop.
It turned you on more than you’d like to admit.
You drew your weapon and followed Loki inside, immediately you started searching for the girls. “Anna?! Joy?!”
“You move and I’ll put a bullet through your fuckin’ head.” You heard Loki say from the living room.
What you saw in the home shocked you- and that was saying a lot.
You quickly cleared each room; Searching in every corner, crack and crevice for the two girls.
“Clear!” You hollered out to Loki.
You heard him call for additional search unit and by the looks of this place it was going to need extensive searching. You had never seen anything like this before, there were lines and scribbles drawn on every corner of every wall, it was dark and dingey. It was the home of someone who was disturbingly obsessed.
“Rest of the house is clear.” You said to Loki as both of you came to the last door to be checked. It was locked.
Loki threw his body weight into it, opening it on the second try. He made it look easy.
What you saw made you sick to your stomach. Black storage boxes, definitely big enough to put two small kids in.
“Shit.” You muttered.
“Anna? joy?..fucking..” Loki frantically checked the boxes and they were all locked.
“I got a crowbar in the trunk.” Loki ran out to get it.
Shoving Bob Taylor into the back seat, Loki found that he only had one crow bar, but he did find some bolt cutters for you to use.
You both frantically started busting the locks on the boxes trying to mentally prepare yourself for what you might find inside.
You slipped on a pair of latex gloves before digging through the box. You offered Loki the extra pair of gloves you kept in your jacket pocket. He reused. Fuck protocol though right?
You opened the box to find it filled to the brim with blood stained clothes.
“Ah!” Loki jumped back. “Fuck.”
“What?!” You asked, desperately hoping it wasn’t a body.
The sight made you jump back.
Fucking snakes.
“Shit.”
“You don’t think the snakes could’ve eaten…” you asked trailed off, not able to finish your sentence.
Loki’s stomach churned at the thought.
“No. I mean..” he paused really considering it. “Seems like an inefficient way to get rid of bodies.”
“Yeah.” You agreed.
“But I wouldn’t put anything past this sick fuck.”
“Yeah.” You said, letting out a sigh. “Forensics can test their stomach contents, just to be sure.” A shiver went down Lokis spine as he shook the chilling thought from his head.
Nearly all the boxes had these damn snakes in them - until Loki busted open the last one.
The only thing inside was a book.
It read on the front-
If you finish all the mazes you can go home
Loki flipped through it, revealing several drawings.
“What the fuck is this.” Loki questioned.
“And where the hell are the girls?” You added.
Before you and Loki could ponder the situation any more, the search team pulled up outside
“That’s what I’m gonna find out.” Loki said while tossing the book back in the container. “Now that search is here, I’m taking this piece of shit back for questioning.”
You and Loki quickly left the snake filled room, for that you were thankful. He took a few steps towards the front door, but stopped when he realized you weren’t following him.
“You comin’ ?”
“No..uh..I’m gonna help the search crew. Try and get a good idea of what we’re up against with this guy, you know.. try and get in his head.”
“Ok..yeah.” Loki paused. “I’ll keep you posted.”
“Same here.”
He quickly headed for the door, but not before looking back at you once more, his expression a mix of emotions. You couldn’t get a read on how he was feeling. Loki was a tough one to figure out.
Wonder what that was about. You thought to yourself. weird.
You showed the rescue team around the house, telling them to watch out for the snakes because they were technically evidence.
You had to take a second to mentally prepare yourself to dive into Bob Taylor’s mind but one of the rescue guys spoke up, interrupting your process.
“Dr. (L/n)?”
“Yes?”
“I, uh, I’ve known David a long time and I don’t know what you’re doing, but keep doing it.”
“Sorry, I- I don’t know what you mean?” The confusion on your face amused the man.
He chuckled. “Let me just say that ever since..well a few days ago, David’s been in a better mood than usual.”
“Well if this is his good mood, I’d hate to see his bad mood.” You let out a fake chuckle and you went on your way.
Sorry..what the fuck is happening right now ??? You thought to yourself.
After the weird look Loki gave you and this man randomly sharing that information…your mind was really spinning. As much as you’d love to read into what just happened, you had two little girls to find. (You’d definitely read into it later though.)
You picked up your phone to call, Nancy, one of your techs back home.
The phone only rang a few times before she answered, you loved that about her.
“Hey Nancy. Send me everything on Bob Taylor.”
-
Tags are open let me know who/ what you want tagged for
loki only tags: @spideyrights @sataninsatin @go-commander-kim @severuined @romancries @eclecticfashionbookszipper @fagen @sizzlingcloudmentality @kissyabish
Not doing main tags cause I figured my colossus people don’t want to be notified about det loki
#detective loki x reader#David loki x reader#detective loki x you#detective david loki#david loki fanfiction#prisoners 2013#David loki / reader#jake gyllenhaal#mine#kacceywrites
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The thing about the woods at night. Travis Hackett x Reader. Smut, fluids, handcuffs, cnc (consensual non-con). Speeding? On his road? I don’t think so.
—-
This is crazy. This is fuckin wild happenings in the woods and all around there’s nothing and no one; there’s just you and him and the open road and jesus, anyone could see you there with your hands cuffed tight behind you and this man, this fuckin cop with two fingers deep in ya with his wild animal grin— hyena, maybe, or wolf— no, not that, but something close, something feral with bloody teeth and a taste for whatever is happening here— this fucking guy is heavy and he’s leaning hard on ya in a way that makes your wrists ache and your legs tremble.
But listen, it’s a half-moon, bright enough to see but not so bright that he didn’t look just that little bit wicked when he leaned against your car and said do you know how fast you were going? Bright enough to gleam on badge and gun and the cuffs on his belt; anyway, bright enough that anyone on the road could see the slick on your thighs with the way you’re spread open. Fuckin bastard cop, and when you tell him so there’s no answer but the twist and press of yet another finger, deep and thick and merciless.
(You’re sure?
Yeah, ‘course. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it)
Town never seemed so far away; it could be a thousand miles from here and nobody would hear you even if you screamed. Hell, like as not there won’t be a soul on this road until daylight. They’re all tucked up warm in their beds; no one in their right mind would be out here in the dead of night. So of course there you are with your face mashed against the window glass; he’s holding you there with a forearm barred iron-hard across your back and your spit smearing every-damn-where because with each motion of his fingers he’s got you moaning and whining and he isn’t even trying to stop you.
In fact— go on then, let it out— in fact, he’s only going harder with every whimper and belly-deep moan; he’s found what makes your thighs tremble and he’s doubling down on the brutal curl and stroke that’s got you clenching hard around his fingers and shaking, certain to collapse if it weren’t for the weight of him pinning you there. It’s just you and me
(sweetheart)
so you might as well relax
(relax)
and take it.
Take it, yeah. Sure. Not much else to do, not like you can just run off into the woods, crashing through the undergrowth, stumbling and hoping not to fall on your face what with the cuffs and all. Not like— well, maybe— maybe you could and here’s your chance; he’s shifting around for a better grip and there’s a sliver of open air between you now. Better not drop the ball; run like hell and hope your feet are fast and steady. And there’s that shot of adrenaline rushing cold from throat to fingertips; it’s bunching up and bursting out and here you go—
Nice try.
He was mean before but now— oh. You’ve really done it this time because you can feel the snarl tearing its way up through his throat and into your ear. Did you really think that would work?
(Course it’ll work. You put your scary face on and I’ll pretend we never had this conversation.)
He’s not looking for an answer and it’s just as well; he’s unbuckling his belt with one hand while the other is smearing your face with your own slick, pressing hard to keep your cheek pinned against the window glass. And Christ, that’s his belt buckle sparking cold along your ass just before he grips his cock and shoves inside— if you can’t keep yourself under control I guess I’ll have to do it for you— he is ungentle, unyielding, rasping fire across cheek and throat and oh— this. is what. you get— ya think you can bat your eyes and get away with anything—
(I don’t wanna get away. I want you to catch me and make me sorry I tried.
Sorry’s kinda relative here, isn’t it? But I think I can work with that)
You think— oh. Oh, to hell with it. I just—
and in the midst of all this comes the featherlight brush of his lips along the join of neck and shoulder and the weight of him as he drops his head and breathes for just a moment. And then
he moves.
He moves and he is everywhere at once, casting blurred reflections in the window glass; he is all callused fingers on your wrist, on your jaw, low on your belly, and when he pulls you hard against him there’s the breathless realization that he— and only he— is keeping you from crashing to the ground. His words fall like rain, like shattered crystal, and he cannot play this game any longer. Sweetheart. ‘Sgood. So fucking good, I need— and he is all around you, inside and out; he grips you tight and goes to pieces.
If you didn’t know him, you’d never guess the gentleness of his touch in times like these, when he rubs your wrists and lets the pad of his thumb linger. You’d never guess the half-smile that steals across his face when you’re driving home together through the night, dappled moonlight pulling him from light to shadow and back again. He’s quiet, thoughtful, turning tonight over in his mind, but he’s relaxed in a way he hasn’t been for far too long.
We’ll get your car tomorrow, he says, and he means I’d like your company a while longer. And when you squeeze his hand you answer
yes.
#ted raimi#travis hackett#travis hackett smut#travis hackett fic#travis hackett x you#the quarry#the quarry fic#the quarry smut#my fic
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FOD- Mafia Au- Nightcall
------------------------------------------------------------------
John frowns. "I thought.." "that he was your friend." John finishes. "Yeah well I won't make that mistake again" Leon scoffs. John couldn't blame him. They grew up together. The Samoan mafia and the valley mafia were close. Paul messed it up for both families and clearly vince got to them before taker could.
Leon leans against the wall, watching like a hawk. "What is it?" John asks quietly as he approaches his brother. "Coppas." Leon mutters. "So? You know dad's got some of them in his pocket" John points out. "There's a new one." Leon explains. John joins him. He looks at the man in question. Hunk of a guy, long black hair pulled back into a bun and bright blue eyes. "Reckon he knows?" John asks. "No. From the way dolph flashed his badge as if dad doesn't know him? I'd say no." Leon mutters pushing away from the window. John watches him. "Why has this got you so worked up?" John asks. Leon doesn't answer, he just moves back to the table were he was cleaning guns. "This is more than some new cop-" "I trusted roman and now his family is joining the hunt for our Pa?" Leon cuts in.
"I get it. Trust me. I thought dwyane-" "you never liked him." "And you never liked roman, but look at us now" John chuckles as the door opens. "Dad wants us." Is all cassie says before leaving. Leon sighs and allows John to drag him out.
Taker paces and shawn just sits watching him. "What was that about?" John asks as he walks in. "Apparently one of us was spotted at a scene of a crime" Taker states. "Not possible. We ain't committed any crimes this week" Leon shrugs. "You" Taker points at Leon. Leon pauses and looks at his father. "He didn't know about you. He didn't ask about you." Taker whispers. "Who?" Leon asks. "The rookie. He knew about all of us but you" Taker states. John glances at Leon. Maybe his brother had a reason to be worried about the newbie. "I want you tailing him. He's the one thing blocking me from what I need. Can you do that?" Taker asks moving closer. "Of course I ca-" "this isnt a joke Leon, can you do this?" Taker bites. "Yessir." Leon mutters. "Good. Get going. I need everything on him by the end of the week" Taker orders. John and cassie send Leon a look of pity as he walks out.
"Your being too hard on that boy." Shawn mutters. "Im-" "stressed. I know. But I'm fine and I will always be fine. Treating him like a soldier will not changed that. Infact, we've all watched films. It's the boys prepared for their mothers deaths that cause it." Shawn comments as he stands. Cassie and John protest. "They won't kill you." Taker mutters. "Taking me from my family is the samething." Is all Shawn replies before leaving. Taker sighs and rubs the back of his neck. "Someone give me something good! Please!" He groans throwing his hands up.
------------------------------------------------------------------
Leon leans against the bar, his eyes burning into the rookie cop as he laughs and talks to his coworkers. He knows they know who he is, so he has to be careful. He's been watching the guy for a few days now. He's bascially learned nothing fuckin important. The guys from the UK, he's a rookie cop and he's just moved to America.
He turns his gaze to Goldust. "A drink please goldie" he calls. "Sure thing kid" goldust hums walking off. Leon sighs and stretches. He's basically been working nonstop for the past few days. A drink is placed infront of him. He looks up to see goldust gone, and the drink coming from behind him. He turns his gaze to next to him to see the rookie.
"Was waiting for you to get a drink, Michaels." Drew hums. Leon tenses, his hand lowering under the bar. Drew grabs his wrist. "No need to draw attention to us." Drew murmurs. Leon growls. "What do you want?" Leon snaps. "Find anything interesting about me Michaels? When you were fiddling around my crib? Following me?" Drew asks quietly, that's when Leon feels something firm against his side. "You better be excited to see me Officer Mcintyre or else this is gonna get nasty" Leon warns. "Mmm no no baby, your gonna tell me exactly what I want to know and then we are going to work a deal" drew chuckles.
That's when it hits Leon. He ain't no cop.
Leon can't help but laugh. "You ain't a coppa. You working for the Samoans or the mcmahons?" Leon asks him quietly. "Neither. Like you know, I've only been here a year, I'm The Underground born and bred." Drew smirks. The Underground, the uks mafia world. They don't do mafia, they have separate gangs and crime overlords and even businessmen in something they call The Underground. It wasn't a physical place, it didn't have to be. They end up in high max prison and talk Underground there together.
"Whats a Underground boy doing in mafia territory?" Leon asks. "Here to assist the Valley in protecting the Queen." Leon's eyes widen and he turns to Drew. "Yeah?" "Yeah. A mutal friend reached out to me after the Harts reported the Samoan and Mcmahon families are teaming up to take the Queen. The Queen they sold off to begin with." Drew explains. The harts? The fuckin harts are trying to help them? "I think you need to come with me." Leon mutters. "Can do." Drew removes the gun from his side. Leon looks at him. "The Brits care about the Queen?" "God yes. He's the heartbreak kid. Roddy, will always care for him, so we will always care for him." Drew states. Leon chuckles. "You drive here?" Leon asks downing his drink. "Yeah" "good, hope you can keep up. Let's move."
------
"Anyone heard from Leon?" Taker asks. "Not yet" John states. "Goldust said he's left the bar 20 minutes ago" cassie calls out. "Alone?" "No." "Right." Taker mutters looking out the window. He watches as two cars turn up. "He better be right about whatever decision this is." Taker warns. "Take it easy. Hear him out." Shawn hums from where he's reading. "Ill try my best" Taker mutters watching the door now instead.
Kevin walks in first. "Leon's back with a friend." Kevin states. "Let em in" Taker nods. And boy the rage hits him first when Leon and the rookie walks in.
The kids sit up straight, ready to fight. Shawn lowers his book and just watches curious.
"What you doing bringing a cop in here? Have you lost your mind?" Taker snaps. "He isn't a cop." Leon states. "Roddy sent me." Drew states. Shawn sits up. "Piper?" "Piper, sir" drew nods. Taker looks at shawn. "Hes part of the underground. One of us." Shawn tells Taker. "I know what the underground is. What brings you out here?" Taker asks. "The Harts reported back to us that the Samoans and Mcmahons have joined up to try take you down and take the heartbreak kid back" drew explains. "Roddy, he wasn't happy about this but we have some issues brewing back home so he sent me, a face the Americans would recognise. Sheamus told me to find Leon and I knew by not mentioning you'd send him after me." Drew explains.
"Because Leon would bring you in." Shawn states. "Exactly." Drew nods. "Im here to help. If that means I have to earn your trust sir, I will." Drew states. Taker examines him as Leon moves forward. "You don't have to trust him. He betrays us, I know everything. We'll make him pay." Leon tells him quietly. "You trusting him?" Taker asks, keeping his eyes on Drew but his head turned towards Leon. "Man had the balls to press a gun to my side in goldies bar. Knew I had a weapon concealed. No cop pulling those stunts in a bar full of gang members and dirty cops." Leon explains quietly. "Tch" Taker straightens up.
"I hope you know, you even think about betraying us, your head is being sent back to roddy in a box. You understand that?" Taker asks. "Yessir" drew nods. "Good. Because I keep my word" Taker snaps. Leon steps back and bows his head down as shawn stands next to him. "Pulling a gun on my baby?" Shawn asks placing a hand on the back of Leon's neck. Drew nods. "He spoke to you. You use your words." John speaks up. "Yessir." Drew speaks. Shawn examines him.
He takes drew by surprise by slapping the back of Leon's head. "A guy this big got the sneak on you and you didn't even know? I taught you better than that" Shawn scolds. "Sorry sir. Won't happen again sir." "Damn right it won't. Not with the war going on." Shawn mutters smoothing Leon's hair down. He looks back at drew. "Congrats. If Taker said no I'd be changing his mind. Anyone of Roddys boys will always be accepted in my home." Shawn states moving towards him.
Drew bows his head down. "Thank you sir." "Now. Shall we start talking business. I've heard you've been here for a year." Shawn hums. Drew looks at him. "I have a lot of good information. And some bad about your dirty pigs." "Then let's get started."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------Notes
This is from a year ago (you can tell from the title alone), I was working on it and accidentally posted it so I concluded it.
But I love my mafia au and obviously being Welsh I know more about the underground than I do the mafia so adding my favourite Scottish boy was my way of bringing those two groups together.
#wwe#shawn michaels#the undertaker#wwf#hbtaker#undertaker x shawn michaels#shawn x undertaker#leon michaels#drew mcintyre#john cena#cassidy michaels#the family of destruction
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Custodytrio incorrect quotes
Your prompt:
Tommy: What time is it?
Wilbur: I don’t know; pass me that saxophone and we’ll find out
Wilbur: *Plays sax loudly and extremely out of tune*
Quackity: WHO THE FUCK IS PLAYING THE SAXOPHONE AT TWO IN THE MORNING
Wilbur: It’s 2 am
Your prompt:
Tommy: I love you guys, you're the best thing that's happened to me.
Wilbur: We're the best thing that's ever happened to you?
Tommy: Yes!
Quackity: I'm starting to feel a little sorry for you.
Your prompt:
Tommy: What if I press the brake and gas at the same time?
Wilbur: The car takes a screenshot.
Quackity: For the last time, get the fuck out.
Your prompt:
Tommy: You have to apologize to Wilbur
Quackity: Fine.
Quackity: 'Unfuck you' or whatever.
Your prompt:
Tommy: What do you think Wilbur will do for a distraction?
Quackity: They’ll probably, like, make a noise or throw a rock. That’s what I would do.
*Building explodes and several car alarms go off*
Quackity: ... or they could do that.
Your prompt:
Tommy: Wilbur and I were crossing the street, and this dude drove by and honked at us
Quackity: *Sighing* What did Wilbur do?
Tommy: They chased him to the next red light, then reached into his window and...
Wilbur: Who wants a steering wheel?
Your prompt:
Tommy: Sometimes I drink milk straight out of the container.
Wilbur: The cow???
Tommy: What?
Quackity: Wilbur, W H Y?
Your prompt:
Tommy: Why are you on the floor?
Wilbur: I'm depressed.
Wilbur: Also I was stabbed, can you get Quackity, please.
Your prompt:
Tommy: Are you the big spoon or the little spoon?
Wilbur: I'm a knife.
Quackity, from across the room: They're the little spoon.
Your prompt:
Tommy: Are you sure this is the right direction?
Wilbur: Certainly, I'm as sure as I am honest!
Quackity: In that case, we're definitely lost.
Your prompt:
*The squad is talking about what it'd be like to open up a homemade Pokemon gym*
Tommy, joking: Wilbur's just sitting at the end, juggling- fushigi-ing 2 glass balls, in super tight pants, just waiting for their kid delivery once they best their minions.
Wilbur: Well they would be Pokeballs. And also it's not a kid delivery. There's no fucking guarantee that a kid that comes into the beginning of my crucible makes it to the end of it undefeated.
Wilbur: In fact, I'm gonna stack this gym! With fuckin pros!
Wilbur: It's- It's gonna be brutal. It's gonna be a torture gym.
Quackity: Well- Well what's the theme? Are you like- is it a bug theme, or like-
Wilbur: YEAH, QUACKITY. UH- UH- UH- UH YEAH QUACKITY. IM GONNA OPEN UP A BUG TYPE POKEMON GYM. YOU IDIOT.
Wilbur: YEAH THAT'S WHAT I WANT, BECAUSE I WANNA GIVE- I WANNA SHIT OUT BADGES FOR EVERY HAM AND EGGER THAT COMES TO MY FRONT DOOR.
Tommy: *Cracking up*
Wilbur: YEAH, QUACKITY. 'Uhh, go Caterpie! >~>' That's me, you FUCKING imbecile. 'Yeah go- uhhh- d-do your best, Kakuna!'
Wilbur: WHAT ARE YOU FUCKING TALKING ABOU- Yeah a ~bug type~ gym.
Quackity:
Tommy: Okaaay-
Quackity: Alright, um, I'm gonna go. I've embarrassed myself...
Tommy: Maybe fire? Fire type?
Quackity: Yeah fire-based? Like- have fires? Wilbur: Yeah, yeah I'll probably just- That's a good idea Tommy I'll probably just do a fire type one... SO THAT ONE KID WITH ONE BLASTOISE CAN FUCK UP MY WHOLE SHOP. Wilbur: KILLED ALL OF US WITH ONE BLASTOISE, HUH? WOW. SHIT I SHOULD'VE- Quackity: Just do rock, then! Just do rock type! Wilbur, voice dripping with contempt: The same Blastoise...
Your prompt:
Tommy: Here’s a fun Christmas idea. We hang mistletoe, but instead of kissing, you have to FIGHT whoever else is under it.
Wilbur: Tommy no.
Quackity: Mistlefoe.
Wilbur: Please stop encouraging them.
Your prompt:
Tommy: Who thinks I can fit 15 marshmallows in my mouth?
Wilbur: You’re a hazard to society
Quackity: And a coward. DO TWENTY.
Your prompt:
Tommy: I really like this whole ‘good guy, bad guy’ thing you guys have going on.
Wilbur: It’s not an act, it’s just that I’m mean and Quackity isn’t
Your prompt:
*The squad is having dinner together*
Tommy: Wilbur, can you pass the salt?
Wilbur: *Throws Quackity across the table*
Your prompt:
Tommy: HELP! I TOLD QUACKITY I’D COOK DINNER TONIGHT BUT I CAN’T COOK!
Wilbur, pouring milk directly into the cereal bag: And you thought I could help?
Your prompt:
Tommy: Hey, Wilbur? Can I get some dating advice?
Wilbur: Just because I’m with Quackity doesn’t mean I know how I did it.
Your prompt:
Tommy, holding a python: Guys I impulsively bought a snake, what do I name him
Wilbur: You did WHAT–
Quackity: William Snakepeare
Your prompt:
Tommy: I trust Wilbur.
Quackity: You think they know what they're doing?
Tommy: I wouldn't go that far.
Your prompt:
Tommy: Dandelions symbolize everything I want to be in life
Wilbur: Fluffy and dead with a gust of wind?
Tommy: Unapologetic. Hard to kill. Feral, filled with sunlight, bright, beautiful in a way that the conventional and controlling hate but cannot ever fully destroy. Stubborn. Happy. Bastardous. Friends with bees. Highly disapproving of lawns. Full of wishes that will be carried far after I die.
Quackity: edible
#dsmp#dsmp incorrect quotes#incorrect quotes#c!custodytrio#c!crimeboys#c!tntduo#c!calamityduo#c!tommy#c!wilbur#c!quackity
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that's two blatant ass queer dean/destiel open promotion cycles on social media for two episodes and 2p0 is still making confused unga bunga noises on what's happening. Meg all "it's all about the narrative parallels" literally what I have been telling these morons for over a year while they dogpile me and deny it.
how long until they accept reality that they all fucked up, and that 2p0 isn't getting what he wants?
I really
really
hope you remember that "only jensen's opinion matters" take of yours. Truly. Because you know, that man doesn't exist in a bubble. he talks to people whether you know it or not. and boy son him innocently smiling at low grade crew is not the dunk you think it is. nor is any sad semantics about dialect going to change it for you, or aggrandizing a scene being moved to a later episode for flow only for it to come back around like my old script draft process post indicated. None of it is going to change the end of the road, my man
jensen isn't a pokemon. he doesn't stay in a little capsule outside of the world until invoked for articles or appearances. he has like friends, and opinions not recorded by the media, and conversations about shit. And these people don't all magically turn up in consulting credits. But these people also are never, ever fucking serpentine ladder climbing fans, not even ones like jules being used as a political badge she's too daft to figure out. They're real industry colleagues and friends. They don't want you fuckin gremlins knowing their real shit.
Catch up. the system is built for DECADES to screen out goblins like jules and leave them rotting at the bottom of shit mountain never to be hired on another project again
welcome to destiel town. if you look on the right you'll see your mountain of failures and to the left, all the blatant ass deancas shit and overt marketing for the whole show complete with dean winchester shooting rainbows out of his head and the main account, meg and danneel all online all acknowledging the parallels you guys denied this shit is about. Either get in the clown car to fix the narrative or get out.
i know you and wigglebox threw in all your clout chips and lies to high school drama me but kids, no matter what childish drama rings you run, reality is reality. sorry you burned your chips. they're my chips now.
hey banned stalky pololers, remember all my history about the gulf? Unless you think I lied for 6 years in advance you might want to tell 2p0 and jules and wiggs to stop fucking around. I know wiggs never had real access to the tea because she wasn't trusted then either, but a few might. genuinely funny that the same people that screamed "nono never add wigglebox back here she can't be trusted!" ran to her the second they were told to stop being assholes. They'll all eat each other in time.
now the whole lot has sold out so bad they're working with wincels and lowkey j2 tinhats to spread bitter narratives and try to maintain old fandom clout proxy Wiki breaking her NDA for 8 months running and it's just sad all around
it's okay, banned people. you can just say you're salty as fuck you bet on the wrong horse, don't have meaningful leaks, leads or access, and zero meaningful involvement, and have been flying blind driven purely by grudgewank you're trying to pose as about leaks, when you lied to your followers for 8 months about the pilot, consciously. People that were banned that WERENT dipshits and figured it out politely requested to come back and did, but yall are just digging a hole all the way to fucking china
i've got people i don't trust now banging on my doors demanding to know how i knew what i knew, about things that haven't even aired yet, that you guys aren't even aware of, to the point a person begged and pleaded and apologized for how they mistreated me to know, mentioned "they" (wiki) were laughing and i reminded i didn't care because i been through this rodeo with mary manchin too and these kids dont understand their capacity limits. Manchin was wrong, I was right, and history is about to repeat. That person got it straight from jensen too. So like. you guys can all sit here and deny into the void. it is what it is. you've lost.
your grudges and malice and parasocializations and bad M&G spins and your anger at not being involved or meaningful or even having info worth two shits and realizing your wiki line is even moot, that's your shit to unpack, but you won't. Because the second you guys unpack that, your server driven by vendettas, five year old gotchas and denial is going to fall the fuck to pieces.
you guys don't even have spn scripts to hock anymore and nobody cares. any new attempts at sekrit info you or 2p0 spin are moot because they're getting disproven in matters of days. The only sustainability is trying to pspsps people with jules feeding scripts as they air, and pretending she hasn't been feeding you shit under the radar the whole time. but nobody cares, because it's fucking airing, and so far only one account in the fandom has been able to accurately stay on track on what's happening.
figure it out, douchecanoes. we won't need your scripts for the arguments you'll try to make about the end of the road in denial. it's pretty damn clear. you might want them to try to find some semantics to argue but the rest of the world won't
and it won't matter how much the outdated but self proclaimed cool kids screech or cry or throw drama bombs or twist things or lie, we're going where we're fucking going, so if you guys just want to convert to an anti server now, just rip off the bandaid and get it over with.
kids learning real quick that just because you don't like a fact or a person doesn't make the fact or person untrue. It just means you've been on the wrong side. enjoy that.
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Scatterpatter Potatoes Pt. 4!
Previous
Aru: So apparently the 'bad vibes' I’ve been feeling are actually severe psychological distress
Kara: Lmao. Mood
Mini: Would you just get a vibe check already?
Aru: Wha-
Mini: SEE A DAM THERAPIST
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Aru: Oh just so you know, it's very muggy outside
Aiden:
Aiden: Aru, I swear, if I step outside and all of our mugs are on the front lawn...
Aru: *Sips coffee from bowl*
*later*
Aru: Hey! I'm back from bowling!
Aiden: Please tell me there's a different reason I can't find the bowls.
Aru: ...so I feel like having some soup. You want a plate?
*Aiden groans*
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
*The Potatoes are talking about what it'd be like to open up a homemade Pokemon gym*
Aru, joking: Brynne's just sitting at the end, juggling- fushigi-ing 2 glass balls, in super tight pants, just waiting for their kid delivery once they best their minions.
Brynne: Well they would be Pokeballs. And also it's not a kid delivery. There's no fucking guarantee that a kid that comes into the beginning��of my crucible makes it to the end of it undefeated.
Brynne: In fact, I'm gonna stack this gym! With fuckin pros!
Brynne: It's- It's gonna be brutal. It's gonna be a torture gym.
Aiden: Well- Well what's the theme? Are you like- is it a bug theme, or like-
Brynne: YEAH, AMAMMA. UH- UH- UH- UH YEAH AMAMMA. IM GONNA OPEN UP A BUG TYPE POKEMON GYM. YOU IDIOT.
Brynne: YEAH THAT'S WHAT I WANT, BECAUSE I WANNA GIVE- I WANNA SHIT OUT BADGES FOR EVERY HAM AND EGGER THAT COMES TO MY FRONT DOOR.
Aru: *Cracking up*
Brynne: YEAH, AIDEN. 'Uhh, go Caterpie! >~>' That's me, you FUCKING imbecile. 'Yeah go- uhhh- d-do your best, Kakuna!'
Brynne: WHAT ARE YOU FUCKING TALKING ABOU- Yeah a ~bug type~ gym.
Aiden:
Aru: Okaaay-
Aiden: Alright, um, I'm gonna go. I've embarrassed myself...
Aru: Maybe fire? Fire type?
Aiden: Yeah fire-based? Like- have fires?
Brynne: Yeah, yeah I'll probably just- That's a good idea Aru, I'll probably just do a fire type one... SO THAT ONE KID WITH ONE BLASTOISE CAN FUCK UP MY WHOLE SHOP.
Brynne: KILLED ALL OF US WITH ONE BLASTOISE, HUH? WOW. SHIT I SHOULD'VE-
Aiden: Just do rock, then! Just do rock type!
Brynne, voice dripping with contempt: The same Blastoise...
Aiden: All the gyms have single typing. If you wanna do multiple types while surrounded by pros, you might as well be the champion!
Brynne: AND GET MOPPED BY THE PLAYER CHARACTER'S LEGENDARY?!? DO YOU HEAR YOURSELF?!?
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Aru: You are now one day closer to eating your next plate of nachos.
Brynne: That's the most hopeful thing I've ever heard.
Mini: But what if I die tomorrow and never eat any nachos?
Rudy: Then tomorrow is nacho lucky day.
*Mini groans*
Rudy: Also, what are nachos?
Mini: You know how whenever you eat raw eggs, despite my salmonella warnings, you like to dip pieces of shell in the yolk?
*Aru gags while Brynne looks dead inside*
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Kara: What if the person who named Walkie Talkies named everything?
Aru: Pregnancy tests are Maybe Babies
Mini: Socks are Feetie Heaties
Brynne: Forks are Stabby Grabbies
Mini: Defibrillators are Heartie Starties
Rudy: Nightmares are Dreamy Screamies
Aru: Stamps are Lickie Stickies
Aiden, annoyed: You are disappointments
Aru: Shut up, Snobby Dabi
Aiden: Make me, Unholy Trolly
Brynne: JUST GET A ROOM ALREADY YOU LOVEY DOVIES
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
*In City of Gold*
Mini: We need to distract this guy
Aru: Leave it to me
Aru: Centaurs have six limbs and are therefore insects. Discuss.
Fake Ravana Heads: *Immediately begin arguing*
Aiden, watching in horror: Oh this. I don’t like this. I don't like this at all.
Brynne: Pegusi have six limbs too
*Arguing gets worse*
Aiden: Don't encourage it!
Aru: Wings don't count!
Brynne: Wings are limbs!
*The Heads all kill each other*
Aru: It worked didn't it?
Aiden: Why are you like this, Shah?
Aru: Because you love it, Acharya!
Brynne: She's right you know.
Mini: For the record, it takes way more than having six limbs to be an insect!
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