College Psa

Tommy Flanagan as Walter Flynn in Power Book IV: Force (1x3)

I'm watching silent hill and I see Kim Coates and I can't take him seriously strictly because I've watched all 7 seasons of sons of anarchy,so anytime I see him........i see a younger tig and I giggle

shot to the head

masterlist

word count: 1645

warnings: smut

music: i'm on fire by bruce springsteen

He lit a cigarette and took the first drag when he heard the footsteps. His ears were already tuned to that specific trot, the ears of a disgruntled hunter that felt like this was going on for too long.

Usually this business takes one day. He clocks the chick, approaches her, makes her laugh, and shows them both good time, all under twelve hours. Here, this was already past a week. The conversations, the dancing, the smiles and flirting was all very good, but the longer Chibs dragged it out, the more difficult it would be to sever the ties later. He tried not to think of the future, readying his feet, as he listened to her approaching footsteps. Straight into his den, main office, she went. Probably confused it with the accounts room, the doors looks similar. His mind wandered lazily, reminding him that Jackie did ask her to help out a little.

You opened the door and stepped in, and it took you just one second to see Chibs, to immediately understand that you're screwed.

Shit, said the tiny voice, as you stepped back again, closed the door and started running away.

"Nope", he snapped. His eyeballs already took the picture: loose hair, summer necklace and a fucking green sundress. With tiny little flowers. Maybe daisies. He jumped up and all but tore the handle out as he opened the door. He caught you midway, lifting you above the floor with one arm.

"No, you're going to pay for this now", he rumbled lowly into your ear, pressing his face into the nape of your neck, as he dragged you back into the office. You giggled, losing your breath, as you swooped through the air, when he finally married you back with the floor. You stumbled a couple steps back, until the opposite wall cut your escape. You looked at Chibs who was closing on your like a wolf. No, the dog that's been tugged too violently. You weren't sure you hated it completely.

"A week and a half you've been clicking on me nose", he said, "you didn't really think you'd get off?"

You offered him a brave smile, your heart racing like this was an armed robbery. Chibs' face mirrored the smile, but darkened. A step at a time, he approached you, taking in every little detail of the body he was about to violate.

"Whatever am I going to do with ya now?"

"I hope you won't make me dance", you chuckled.

"Now don't give me ideas, you bratty mink", he rattled, grabbing you by the arm and then almost releasing, so that the hold is not too firm. He slid his hand up and down your shoulder, then tickled the ribs. His breath burned your temple, then your face flushed as you finally felt his mouth moving against yours. Chibs kissed you, aggressively at first, just like his touch was, to show how he felt about the whole situation. Then you could barely register what was happening. His tongue, filling your mouth, and one hand, sliding down the thigh and sneaking under the skirt; your knees caved in a little and you couldn't hold a stifled moan. He licked your trembling mouth properly, before letting you take a breath, and then sharply twirled you around like a puppet. Pulling a desk closer, he laid one hand on your back.

You were so wet at this point it was getting uncomfortable. Chibs took his time, probably thinking about how you pulled him apart, vein by vein, a big offense in his eyes; his wounded hand stayed down, massaging your thigh and cluthing on one buttcheek, almost too hard. The other, tugging in your hair, pulled your head back, and you closed your eyes.

"I hope you don't mind me asking", he croaked gently into your ear. His voice gave you shivers, and you twitched under him, the body screeching for some development. The office smelt like smoke, sweat and candy.

"But I'd like some context on that one time when Ned tried to fucken choke ya", you breathed through your mouth, the tip of your tongue restless, "cause I get the same impulse about once a day now".

"I thought you were better than that", you laughed out, excited.

"Didn't take ya for someone who only sees good in people", he uttered, before placing a small kiss on the back of your shoulder. His beard was delightfully tickly. You gasped as his other hand finally reached the hem of your underwear, before slithering inside.

"Oh, you got something for me", he whispered, "don't ya, baby".

You didn't feel like saying anything, arching your back so hard, asking silently, like you were trying to snap your spine. As his fingers started caressing you, you swayed your hips, your hands clenching his forearms.

"What is it? What is it that you want?" he mocked, keeping you in place with one hand on your neck. You laid on the desk, a rash thought visiting you, that you completely forgot why you were here in the first place. And where was, here. This was so good, as he demanded, you had to scramble for words.

"Tell me, what is it that you want from yer dog, Y/N", he insisted. You let another moan leave your lips, moving your hips, and yet his fingers refused to slip inside, because he was bringing his revenge on you.

"If you... don't fuck me now, I'll come anyway, and you won't have your fun", you whispered, your mouth dry. His low laughter vibrated into your back:

"You just can't bring yourself to ask, can you?"

You shook your head, then moved your body to let him know you wanna turn, but Chibs didn't budge.

"No, you'll stay here, sweethear. Now we're doing it my way".

You heard the buckle of his belt clink, and braced yourself. Chibs lifted up your dress, tracing the lines of your body with an open palm, as he gave a little soft squeeze to your shoulder, comforting, he slid inside of you, making you yell out with surprise, and pleasure.

He knew it would be good, but now he was finally celebrating. The view of your arched back, with this soft green dress, and the hair, the walls of your vagina pulsating fevereshly around his cock the second he was there; - he had to slow down for a second at first, searching for the pace, but it was all like a fever dream. Like he was high; the convulsions the body in front of him was going through, made it almost impossible to contain himself. The girl was so starved, so utterly untouched that he almost felt dirty; hell, he was dirty, a dirty bastard, and that's why he got this excellent, wet, hugry cunt. He always got the best one; a matter of skill, but this was pure heaven of reciprocity. He couldn't restrain the desire to bend onto her and taste the skin on her back; nipping, nibbling, as he went faster and faster. You were gasping for air, letting out only a small yelp every time he pushed into you, holding on for your dear life. You stood on your toes to change the angle slightly, so that his cock would slide against the clit every time, and felt the climax approaching. His hand cupped your chin so gently, in contrast with how he was hammering into you, and you mouthed his name on the verge of your might:

Filip, Filip, Filip.

You loved hearing his voice into your ear, low, like he was finally nibbling on a bone he's been chasing. You were almost that. Twisting your neck to an inhuman angle, you caught his mouth, and he filled you on both ends, and you finally came, tensing your whole body around his throbbing cock, and he hummed approvingly. You couldn't believe the relative quiet he demonstrated, as opposed to the whirlwind of sensory overload you just experienced. Panting, catching for air with your mouth, you still felt the electric clouds of mellow pleasure in your body, and Chibs turned you around like a toy again.

"You are very easy to please", he murmured favorably, the sight of his face making you blush again. You tried to shrug, which made him chuckle at the awkward movememnt. You threw your head back, unable to focus just yet. Your lips moved, with only a shade of a phrase. His hand was cupping one of your breasts through the dress, pressing lightly.

"What was that?" he bowed above you, took your hands and wrapped them around his neck. He wasn't done yet.

"Am I forgiven?" you whispered. The sound of his laughter made you wheeze with joy,

"You could never do wrong, my good girl", hand caressed the side of your face as he pushed his cock back. You felt like you saw something you weren't supposed to; the teeth, his smile, pulling his mouth open, his black eyes drilling you before he went on and pressed his face into the anterior of your neck. He started thrusting harder, his hands clutching your thighs, and you felt the second orgasm almost coming. There was a scent of violence in the last several seconds before he gave a big sigh, releasing one of your legs. You both went quiet for some time, and then Chibs went straight to kissing, plucking pecks like little targets onto your collar bones, your chest, neck, your face.

He did win, but he also felt like he fell into one of the snares. He had a distinct feeling like he was thigh-deep in it, because holding you was so nice. He would have to talk about it with the youngster for sure. Filip was an experienced human and he knew that, out of all the ways to kill, a woman knew the most intricate ones.

"Tickles", you yelped, shivering, and he helped you sit up.

"Kiss me".

He obeyed.

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1st time writing

Tw: vehicle accident, not gory

Screams and Scotch - Part 1

Chibs had seen some stupid shite in his time, but this? This was bloody ridiculous.

He was pulling out of TM’s lot when the sound of a screaming engine made him pause. His sharp eyes tracked the sleek, black Ducati as it weaved dangerously through traffic. The guy riding it was a reckless bastard, leaning too hard into turns, gunning it between cars with barely an inch to spare. But it wasn’t the rider that caught his attention.

It was the girl on the back.

She was tiny—five foot nothing, at best—and clinging to the rider like her life depended on it. Her hands were locked around his waist, her knuckles white even from this distance. Her hair whipped wildly in the wind, and even over the roar of the engine, he could hear her screaming. Not the kind of scream that came with excitement or thrill-seeking. No, this was terror.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, already swinging his Harley around. He wasn’t about to play hero—stupid people did stupid things, and they suffered for it—but something about the way she clung to the guy set his teeth on edge. She looked like she wasn’t there by choice. And that? That was a problem.

He kicked his bike into gear, following at a distance, keeping an eye on them as they shot down Main Street.

It happened fast.

Too fast.

One second, the Ducati was tearing down the road, the rider too cocky, too sure of himself as he cut through traffic. The next, he made a critical mistake. He didn’t see the truck ahead of him slamming on the brakes.

Chibs barely had time to swear before it happened.

The bike clipped the back of the truck at high speed. The front wheel crumpled, the force sending the rider flying over the handlebars. He slammed into the pavement and rolled, limbs flailing. But Chibs’ focus was on her.

The girl.

She was thrown off the back like a ragdoll, hitting the asphalt hard. She skidded, her body bouncing once—twice—before going still.

Chibs was already moving, his Harley forgotten in the middle of the road as he ran toward the wreck. The rider was groaning, trying to push himself up, but Chibs ignored him. He crouched next to the girl, his gut twisting at the sight of her.

Blood smeared the pavement beneath her. Her jeans were torn at the knees, scraped raw, and her arms had deep road rash. But it was her head that worried him. Her face was slack, peaceful in a way that didn’t belong here. A deep cut on her forehead leaked crimson into her hair.

“Shite, lass,” he muttered, pressing two fingers to her neck. Her pulse was there—faint, but there.

“Hey,” he tapped her cheek lightly, his accent thickening. “C’mon now, open those pretty eyes for me, yeah?”

Nothing. "Ah, fuckin’ hell.”

He checked her breathing—shallow, but steady—before looking up. People were gathering. Someone had already called 911. Sirens were wailing in the distance.

The rider groaned louder, drawing attention, but Chibs shot him a look that shut him up. “You keep your arse right there,” he warned, voice low and sharp. “Yer lucky I don’t put ye under for good.”

The bastard had been laughing on that bike. Chibs had seen it. The reckless grin, the thrill of showing off. And now she was lying here, broken because of him.

When the ambulance arrived, Chibs was still kneeling beside her, his gloved hand pressing gently against her shoulder. When the paramedics rushed over, he didn’t move.

“She’s breathin’. Took a bad hit to the head.”

One of them nodded, assessing her injuries, but when they asked for her information, Chibs stiffened.

“I dunno,” he admitted, glancing down at her. “I don’t know her name.”

The ride to St. Thomas was a blur. Chibs hadn’t planned on going, but when the paramedics loaded her onto the stretcher, they just assumed.

“You’re coming with her, right?”

He could’ve said no. Could’ve walked away, probably should have.

Instead, he muttered, “Aye,” and climbed into the ambulance.

He sat in the corner, arms crossed, watching as they worked. Her tiny frame looked even smaller against the white sheets, and for some reason, that pissed him off. She looked fragile, in a way that had looked like she had no business being tangled up in this shite.

When they rolled her into the ER, he followed. Nurses swarmed. Someone tried to stop him, but he just gave them a look, and they backed off.

Finally, a nurse approached him. “Are you family?”

Chibs hesitated. He didn’t even know her bloody name.

“Filip Telford,” he said instead. “Call me Chibs.”

The nurse nodded. “She had a wallet on her. Her name is—”

She said it. Her name.

And for some reason, it hit him harder than expected. He rolled it around in his head, memorizing it, feeling it settle in his chest.

When they finally let him into the room, she was still unconscious. Her face was pale, but the bandages were clean, the IV steady. Chibs pulled up a chair, watching her breathe.

He didn’t know why he stayed.

Didn’t know why he felt this urge to make sure she woke up.

But he did.

And something told him this wasn’t the last time he’d see her.

Not by a long shot.

🥰🤤

Source: @mario_daggett instagram

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