#Sorry if the colours are off I have trouble seeing them at the moment????

[angkis]

[vicompte-de-latarteaucoing]

Sharkey calling Mortimer «his friend» and redheaded-Sadi stealing Freddy's hat to make up an excuse...

I love how they put these three messing up together in this episode

[enwoso]

hi! I absolutely love your alessia russo x child!reader posts. your writing is so good! if you’re up for writing some more for this universe could you maybe do something with reader being a menace with the england girls and causing some trouble? it’s okay if not!

DEVIL IN DISGUISE — alessia russo x child!reader

*back with my fave little universe! and don’t worry there are more bits to this little universe i am in the middle of writing them🙃*

navigation

alessia had been on england camp since monday and it was now wednesday, you had accompanied her for the short camp.

but since arriving alessia hadn't had the most smooth couple of days like she usually would and that was because she wasn't able to take her eyes off you for more than a few seconds in fear that you would be up to something you shouldn't be.

on top of that she had noticed that a couple of things weren't here that she needed. like her training socks, which she had to go and ask the kit man for some spares putting it down to her forgetting them when being asked why she didn't have them. brushing it off she forgot about it quite quickly, you taking her focus as you were in your little trouble maker mood at the moment.

as the other day alessia had turned her back for one moment and you had vic pelova looking down into a full water bottle telling the dutch that she was looking at something inside the bottle before you squeezed the bottle into her face. ice cold water dripping down the poor dutches face.

today was travel day, the girls were playing back at wembley and had the day to recover after having a light training session early this morning.

everyone was eating breakfast, you had ate yours probably too fast for your mums liking but nevertheless she couldn’t be mad because at least you had eaten. knowing that you couldn’t play until you had eaten majority of your food.

alessia was sat talking with a few of the girls her gaze looking over to you every so often to check you weren't doing something you shouldn't of been doing — instead seeing you just colouring in content while also watching the cartoon that was playing on your ipad.

"so how is the little munchkin?" mary asked as alessia had turned her attention back to the table after checking on you for the fiftieth time in the past three minutes. alessia eyes going wide, pulling a face that said it all.

"that doesn't sound good" georgia pointed out as alessia hummed.

"she's starting to get a little naughty, like the other day i walked into her bedroom and she had drawn all over her walls and then proceeded to say it wasn't her even though she had the pen in her hand." alessia explained the girls trying to stifle their laughter as the blonde spoke.

"did it come off the walls at least?" beth asked as the blonde shook her head, proceeding to explain how her brother was thankfully going to repaint the walls for her.

"didn't she bite someone at nursery as well? tooney was on about that the other day, weren't she" millie commented looking towards mary for back up, the goal keeper nodding. the blonde groaning as she thought back to the day.

"wait you never told us girls this story"

"yeah i wanna hear it!"

"so i went and picked her up as usual after training, and then the teacher pulled me and began to tell me how she had bitten a little boy but when i asked her why she did it she said that the boy bit her first but the teacher never mentioned that part so i don't know what to think!" alessia explained the girls humming along to show that they were listening.

“are we sure she isn’t the devil in disguise?”

"well if he bit her first then her biting him is totally valid" georgia said shrugging mary agreeing mumbling something about it was good she was sticking up for herself — the other two however not as convinced, "yeah but if you give her that excuse, she'll go around biting everyone" beth said as the other two both hummed.

“that’s is true, she did make him a card to say sorry though so-“ alessia shrugged a chuckle coming from her as the others awed at the thought of you sitting and spending your own time to make a card to apologise.

“was the card made before or after you banned her from using pens?” millie asked but before alessia has a chance to reply you were heard yelling to get your mums attention.

"mummy! mummy!" you called over, alessia still talking with the girls, "look mummy!" you appeared a bright smile on your face as you held onto your top holding out a sticker.

“wow! what did you get that for?” your mum asked as she looked to you holding her hand out for you to high five. “i helped one of the coaches-“ you began but as you carried on your explanation, alessia’s eyes went wide your arms were covered in big bright red drawing and doodles you had done all up your arms

"oh my god" your mum whispered to herself, her hand stroking up your arm to find out if the pen was dry or not. "lovie, why have you done that for?" your mum sighed thinking about how on earth she was going to get the pen off.

you shrugged in response to your mums question, a smile on your face clearly happy about the colour of your arms, glancing over to the girls sat around the table who were trying to keep their smiles and laughter in.

"what have you drawn on your arms with?" your mum asked as your ran back over to your little table to grab the pen. alessia's head falling straight into her hands as a loud groan came from her.

"at least she knows what colour north london is!" leah joked trying to bring light to the situation, her and few others the only ones laughing as alessia brought her head back up shooting a dirty look to the captain.

"not the time leah." alessia mumbled through gritted teeth as she saw you running back over. pen in hand.

"this one mummy!" you held out a red sharpie towards the blonde. of course it couldn't have just been a simple crayola pen, it just had to be a permanent marker that you had somehow found.

mentally alessia was screaming, physically she was trying her best not to scream and stay as calm as possible.

"where did you find that lovie" alessia calmly asked as you explained how you got the pen, that you had found it in the pen pot which you weren't exactly lying you did find it in the pen pot but it wasn't your pen pot.

it was the pot that all the adults used but you didn't think they would mind if you borrowed it. alessia could feel her patience running thinner and thinner as the seconds went by.

since the drawing on walls situation at home incident alessia had made sure to hid each and every single pen possible, instead only allowing you to colour with pencils and even still that was under supervision. this was adding to the reasons of why it would be a while until you were able to retain your pen licence back.

"less have you seen my boot-" ella began holding one boot in her hand as she stopped at the sight of you, "woah that's a nasty sunburn tiny!" the manchurian gasped ruffling your hair as few laughs heard from her teammates as she turned to them not knowing what part of the joke she was missing.

"mate, how's she gonna get a tan never mind sunburn when it's seven degrees outside!" beth deadpanned as ella nodded along realising how silly her comment was.

"silly auntie ella, it's pen!" you giggled as ella's eyes went wide. the pieces fixing together but confusion hitting her as she knew about your redecoration of your room and the fact that alessia has hidden every pen in sight. "i thought you had banned her from using pens?"

"i have!"

“the devil in disguise strikes again!”

after many layers of baby oil and tissues most of the pen had came off your arms much to your protests that your mummy was getting rid of your artwork.

you had managed to make it down to the lobby where the team was beginning to gather for the bus arriving, people swarming around with big camera asking some of the girls questions.

you were sat with your mummy, you sat with a small coffee table in front of you. a picture game you had been playing with spread across the table.

"lovie? what's in the backpack?" you mum asked as you struggled to get it on your back, it looking very full. alessia trying to remember if it looked like that when you both arrived on camp.

“just my things” you huffed, the backpack dropping off your shoulder and onto the floor. “what things?” your mum pushed wondering what on earth you could have in your back to make it so heavy considering she had all your clothes, and your ipad in her bag.

“do you want me to carry it for you?” your mum asked as you shook your head mumbling a no as you lifted the bag up with great difficulty onto the seat. “well how about i help you put it on, yeah?” she smiled as you nodded a little admitting defeat.

you picking your backpack back up and passing it to your mummy who was sat down on the chairs in the hotel lobby. you stood in between her legs waiting for her to help you put it on, slotting one arm through the strap and then the other.

you mummy keeping you still for a moment as she pulled the zip a little, showing a glimpse of what was inside. a confused look taking over the blondes face as the sight of things which definitely were not yours.

opening the bag up a little, alessia discovered where her lost training socks along with her headphones she had thought she had forgotten as well as ella’s lost boot, millie’s t’s shin pads, chloe’s water bottle and beth’s slider.

the blonde laughing to herself as she took each item out placing it on her lap, you turning about once you thought you mum had finished putting it the bag on your back. “mummy it feels light- hey there mine!” you frown turning around and seeing the things that were in your bag on her lap.

“lovie, these are the girls’ things” your mum explained, you backpack falling to the ground as your pout got bigger, “but i found them?” you said hopefully that you would be able to keep them.

“i know, but these still belong to the girls and they might be sad if they don’t have them anymore and we don’t want to upset anyone do we?” your mummy smiled softly, as you looked over to some of the girls who were starting to gather in the lobby before it was time to get on the bus, looking back at your mum you shook your head.

“good, now can i give these back to their rightful owners?” your mum laughed slightly as you pout loosened and you nodded. you mum kissing you on the forehead as she sat you on the chair she was on, picking up the items in her hand as you grabbed your ipad to watch. your mummy telling you she would be a few seconds.

the blonde walking over to the little huddle near the coffee machine where beth, ella and millie were. “are you now the lost property box like?” ella joked watching as alessia walked closer to them, millie and beth laughing as alessia sarcastically laughed along.

“one purple boot, two shin pads and a slider!” the blonde smiled as she handed each of them their stuff back. “where did you find these?” beth asked as she looked at her slider.

“lovie, ‘found’ them and she’d put them in her backpack” alessia explained as the three awed as a few giggles followed.

“the devil strikes again!”

[swallowtail-lotus]

Harassed {Jack the Ripper/Poseidon}

Repost

I'm sorry that I wrote this

Warning: mentions of murder and harassment. Don't do any of these things

__________

Jack the Ripper🔪-

One of your friends had dragged you to a bar one night, insisting you needed to get out more. You didn't have any plans that night but you still refused. After some convincing, you agreed to go.

A few minutes in and your friend is already gone, leaving you by yourself at the main counter. You only took a few shots, but stopped yourself after the 4th shot.

Suddenly, some drunk guy sat next to you, resting his rough hand on your shoulder. He tried so many times to get you to talk, but you just ignored him and walked out the bar. You began your lone walk to your home.

Just when you turned a corner, hands began to caress your sides. You thrash in the guy's grip but he just held you tighter. You took out a small pocket knife and stabbed his leg. You took off the moment he let you go, running inside your house and locked it.

You had a hard time sleeping after that.

The next day, you refused to get of bed, let alone the house. This worried some of your friends and tried to ask you why, but you kept quiet, which led them to ask the friend who took you.

"I do not know. They just left without even saying anything."

That was all they said. They decided to drop it once they realised their question won't be answered.

The next night, while it was dark, you heard a knock on your bedroom window. To your surprise, it was someone who you grew close to, Jack the Ripper. Your first encounter was when he was injured and you, a kind hearted soul, took him in, unaware of who he was. He originally wanted to kill you but seeing how kind you were, the thought of killing you soon went away.

"Milady, what seems to be troubling you?" He asked, his mixed eyes staring into your soul. Your dropped your head down low, refusing to let him see your tears. You wanted to lie your way out, but Jack would be aware of it.

"I-I was forced to go to a bar and this disgusting man touched me and tried to-"

"What did he look like?" You looked up, seeing the man's face turn to his usual murderous expression, but it seemed more dark.

"W-well, he had black hair and blue eyes and looks a little bigger than you. He also had some facial hair on his jaw." You described the man the best you could. Jack didn't say anything and disappeared into the night.

2 nights later~

Sweeping the floors of your house with a headache wasn't the best idea. After finishing off, you rested yourself on one of your chairs. You felt a piece of paper under your hand and picked it up. It was folded neatly and had beautiful handwriting. You opened it up and read the short letter.

I apologise for leaving you in your time of need, but I had to get rid of the beast who tried to corrupt you.

You felt a presence in your room and turned around, spotting Jack, twirling a knife in his hand. Without a second thought, you jumped up and hugged him. Jack held his arms away from you, not knowing what to do.

"You didn't need to kill him." Your voice muffled by his chest. Silence filled the room after you spoke.

"It was entirely necessary. I refuse to let them take your beautiful colours away."

Tears been to fall out, staining his shirt. Jack lowered his arms, slowly wrapping them around your waist.

He always thought he'd never meet a kind person, until life decided to let him meet you.

Poseidon🔱-

Being married to one of the most fearsome gods has its ups and downs.

One up is that you're the only one who can meet his gaze and live the next day.

One down is that he refuses to let you show affection in public to not ruin his public image in being perfect. (It does upset you, but you understand)

He sees you as his equal, so it isn't much of a surprise when another god stupid enough tries to have his way with you and he is informed.

This god won't leave you alone, even when you declined his invitation to accompany him.

"I told you many times! I do not wish to go with you!" You yelled at the persistent god following you.

It all started when he approached you and started a normal conversation. Then, he started getting a little too touchy with you, brushing his hand against your bare skin, his hands lingering on your shoulders and hovering over your chest for too long. That was enough for you to storm out and head back to your husband, the god you truly love.

"Come on, beautiful! I just want to know you better." The god exclaimed, grabbing your wrist. He pulled you closer to him, smirking victoriously when he saw your frightened face.

"I don't think she feels the same way." A familiar voice chimed in. The god froze in his spot, giving you the chance to wiggle out of his arms and step away from him. You felt relieved to see Heracles, his usual smile not present on his face and replaced with a menacing glare. The god trembled in his shoes and just took off to who knows, too afraid to even try to speak to the towering demigod.

"Fucking coward." You thought, watching the god disappear around a corner. You felt the demigod's hand on your shoulder.

"You should go back to Uncle. I bet he's missing you." Heracles' face changed to a more cheerful one, his smile exposing his pearly whites. You giggled at his sudden change and nodded.

"I should. Thank you for saving me!"

"No problem!"

With that, you took off to see your husband. Before entering, you took the time to stand up straight, take a deep breath and walked in. You faced your husband, slowly making your way to your throne next to his. Sea Blue eyes observed your form, noticing your slightly messy hair and increased speed of your breathing.

He knew these were your signs of discomfort.

"Who is responsible?" His chilling voice filled the silence. You felt exposed upon hearing his question and hesitated on answering. But you gave up.

"Just another god." You finally answered, your hands gripping the armrests nervously. You knew lying to your husband would be impossible.

"Come here." He demanded. You quickly complied, standing in front of him, unsure of his next demand.

"I said, come here." He demanded again, his eyes staring right in your own orbs. You swallow slowly, stepping closer to him. This was strange, he never demanded, let alone asked for anything like this. With hesitation, you wrapped your arms around Poseidon's waist. When he didn't push you away, you lowered yourself down to sit on his lap.

Crying was out of the question if it was for anything else, but after what happened, you couldn't help it.

Your quietly sobbed, tightening the hug. Surprisingly, Poseidon did nothing but sit there, listening to your sobs.

Poseidon will have to wait until he can deal with the living filth that decided to get his dirty hands on his wife...

[featguler]

kylian relationship headcanon?

can i come over ? ────── just another episode of tenderness.

♡ ────── pairing : kylian mbappé x reader ♡ ────── tags : reader's gender, ethnicity, nationality, and appearance is not specified. ♡ ────── wordcount : 667 ♡ ────── notes : posting this one as a good luck token for the france vs netherlands game!! ily kylian. i try to not just write the happy parts of the relationship but also the hurdles you two might face? i might do more of these since i've got some ideas still :^) (quick disclaimer: since these are headcanons of real people, i'd like to emphasize that if you do not agree with any of the things i write, please kindly click off the post). title is from cool dry place by katy kirby ♡ masterlist.

Kylian Mbappé. Every single person on the Earth knows his name. But you especially—how could you not? When he doesn’t have his eyes on a football game, or his legs on a football field, he has them on you.

Hand on your knee at every single group dinner, behind your neck at every hangout with friends; his skin is always in contact with yours at every single second.

Touchy does not even begin to describe him.

If it were up to him, he would drag you to the changing room and have you sit between his legs—but no, it is not up to him.

Well, mostly because he doesn’t want to be the one that brings the elephant into the room, but also it is so bad that other people are beginning to think of you as a nuisance.

“Mbappé can’t keep his hands off his partner,” a tabloid once wrote, and it only took a few quote retweets from some Parc des Princes employees, heavily agreeing, for it to go viral.

“Sorry,” you once said to a manager, then to a janitor, then to a teammate, Kylian trailing quietly behind you, arms around your waist.

And he gets sooo whiny if you push him away—what’s worse than losing a match? His dramatic ass would say that it’s having you steer away from his touches!

“Kylian,” you whine on the couch, pushing his face away as he tries to kiss you for the hundredth time that hour. “Please, I’m trying to watch a film here.”

“Mhm,” He pouts, arms around your back, hoping that you’d look at him. He looks at you, his chin on your chest before sighing. “You hate me right? Be honest.”

“Please,” you say again, eyes never leaving the television, “you can kiss me all you want the moment the movie ends.”

He tends to avoid. You’ve known him for so long, and you are at the point where you would almost forgive him for the amount of issues that have simmered too long in both of your discontent.

But you don’t do that. No. You see forever with this man, right? So you sit him down and talk.

You’ve got to admit that Kylian has gotten so, so much better in recent years.

He used to flee at every problem—it’s not that he has trouble expressing his emotions, it’s that he has trouble being vulnerable.

“You’re doing this again,” you roll your eyes, arms crossed over your chest. Kylian won’t look you in the eyes. “I’m sick of this.”

“Come on,” Kylian tries reaching a hand over the table to you—well, if he’s going to ignore you, you sure as hell are going to ignore him too. “Look at me, we don’t have to talk about this right now.”

“Right,” you huff out, letting out a sarcastic laugh, “so when are we going to talk about this.”

Kylian stays quiet.

Kylian likes luxurious things; and he likes you. The same thing, really, in his eyes. A priceless watch and your priceless kiss—this is the kind of luxury a man like him can only dream of.

He goes all the way for his show of love, of course! He customises everything he owns with your initials.

Once, he somehow left his passport in the airport, and what got people into talking was not his passport, but your initials embroidered on its leather cover.

The strap of his duffel bag is changed into a shade of your favourite colour, your initials and his sewn together under it—it does not stop there! A gold plated lapel pin with your name on it becomes a staple on every single suit he wears; socks with your initials when cuffed; matching bracelets he only takes off before practice and matches.

He makes sure the camera flashing on his face gets it: he’d pose in a certain angle, throw his scarf over his shoulders in a certain way.

Even when you’re not there, he still loves showing you off!

[captainlondonman]

LAUNDRETTE SKIN

Matt remembered he needed to drop in to the Laundrette to pick up his holiday clothes on the way home. It was almost closing time but he could see Betty, the lady who did all the washes, preparing to shut for the night.

‘You just made it Matt, it’s been a busy day with so many washes but here is your bag. You certainly have some nice patterend shirts and coloured chinos. Obviously off on your holiday.’

‘Yes, thanks, sorry to be late but I will  leave you in peace to shut up. See you soon.’

As soon as he got home he opened the bag to take his clothes out and could not believe what he was looking at. There were no patterned shirts or chinos. It was not his bag. He looked closely wondering what on earth was inside, As he put his hands in to check out in case his clothes were under the top layer he saw 3 jockstraps and though supposedly clean they still had a yellowish appearance. Under that were a combination of Fred Perry polo shirts and Lonsdale T shirts, generally black and white and a couple of khaki. Under that were 3 pairs of bleacher jeans in varying markings one pair so bleached they were almost white, and a pair of camos. Finally at the bottom of the bag were two alpha bomber jackets one in green and the other black.

It was the complete outfit of a skin head. It couldn’t be anything else. Probably the skin head had all his clothes and was spitting blood at not having his own. He had seen the skins in town and knew what tempers they had and always looking for trouble. But it was too late to go back to the laundrette so he zipped up the bag and decided that first thing tomorrow he would have to take it back in the hope the skin did likewise.

As the evening wore on he kept looking at the bag, tempting him to open up and look at more closely. ‘Hell as long as he packed them all carefully no one would notice.’ Looking at all the gear in the open bag started to make his cock twitch. There was something about skins which he found repulsive but at the same time so sexy, Seeing the shaved guys in tight bleachers with a large bulge nearly always gave him a hard on and now he was looking at a bag full of the stuff, he took out one of each item and holding them up realised that the size looked the same as his clothes.

‘Christ this is too good a chance to miss out. No one will notice and anyway I’ll just put the gear on for a couple of minutes at the most and then put it back.’

By the time Matt had stripped off his own clothes he was rock hard. He took out a jock strap and could hardly get it on with the 7” cock upright and straining. As he struggled to get into it making a huge tent he noticed a small drop of precum start to stain the fabric.

‘Fuck he thought now I will have to wash and dry it before tomorrow.’

The Fred Perry shirt fitted perfectly and was tight against his chest showing his erect nipples. His nipples always expanded when he was horny and they now really showed through the material. He pulled on the most faded bleachers, the stretch denim making it difficult to pull up. He then had to put his hand down the front and force his cock down one leg but still it sprang out making a thick long outline. Finally he slipped on the green bomber jacket and found it tight and short on him.

‘Christ I didn’t think it would feel this good but it looks a bit ridiculous as the guys all wear ranger boots.’ He remembered he had a long pair of black rubber boots. Not ideal but would be better than nothing. Having put his feet into them they came up to almost his knees. He quickly moved to stand in front of the mirror.

Shit it’s amazing Everything is so tight and if I forget I have my hair I could almost be a skinhead even in these boots. I don’t think I’ve ever felt to horny.’

He put his hand over his crotch and began to run his hand up and down the denim, feeling his cock pulsate.

For a moment he imagined himself a skinhead and started shouting at the mirror as he rubbed himself harder and harder. He felt a changed man.

‘I’m a fucking skin, do what I fucking say, I’ll fucking deck you and fuck the living daylights out of you. You want a fuck big skin dick up that arse of yours. Get down on your fucking knees and swallow this big cock of mine, its full of cum. Take a Skin cock all the way down your throat. I’m a fucking skin.’

As he shouted this staring at himself he realised he had come too far. His excitement had overtaken him, his hand rubbing furiously up and down his shaft, his breathing rising rapidly.

‘Shit I’m gonna cum it’s so fucking good, Christ I’m cumming in these bleachers I can’t stop myself. Oh god.’

And with that he shot load after load of spunk down his leg the spunk oozing through the denim and forming globs of cum outside. He could feel the rest running down inside past the top of the rubber boots.

He had never had such an orgasm but suddenly he realised he had cum in the guy’s bleachhers and jockstrap and he had to have it all back at the laundrette the next day.

Taking all the skin gear off he carefully washed the patch of thick cum on the bleachers as well as the jockstrap which was still oozing with all his white spunk. He knew it had to be dry by the next morning so during the night he got up twice to use his hairdryer to dry as much and as quickly as he could. By morning the jockstrap looked Ok, a bit damp but he would hide that under the others and the bleachers definitely had a long line which had not fully dried. Again he hid them in the bottom part of the bag and went back to the laundrette. He would have loved to have kept the clothes as dressing like a skin had so changed the way he felt. It made him feel so much more aggressive and he liked looking more as a real geezer rather all his patterned shirts.

Betty was in the laundrette when he arrived.

‘Oh I am so sorry I gave you the wrong clothes. The young man has your bag  and asked if you could take his round to his home. Here is the address.’

Matt baulked at the idea of delivering the damp gear but he thought they would do a quick exchange at the door and he would run off before the guy had time to look inside. Even in his panic there was something that had his cock expand at the prospect of seeing a skin close up.

Hardly had Matt rung the bell when the door was flung open.

The Skin was standing blocking the doorway in full gear. His lace up rangers with his bleachers tucked in and white socks turned over the top of the boots. He was wearing a Lonsdale T shirt and black braces. His arms were full of tattoos and a spider web tattoo across his neck. Matt could see the muscles under the T shirt but for Matt even without staring he could see the guy had a good bulge, the buttons on the jeans were pulling with the weight and size of cock. He was holding a bottle of beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

‘So we got each other’s fucking clothes eh mate. Well you’d better come in and I’ll go and get yours. No way I would ever wear all those fucking clothes of yours. Give me my bag and I get yours.

Matt stood in the hall as the skin walked off and he noticed the jeans had a rear zip. His cock started again to get hard and he hoped the outline would not be obvious in his chinos but shit the skin was so sexy.

The guy appeared back in the hall holding a jockstrap, his face full of rage.

‘You’ve fucking well had this on. It’s still damp and ain’t like the others.’

Matt trembled. ‘No you are mistaken.’

‘Don’t fucking tell me that mate. I know all me jocks so tell me why the other two look clean and this is not. I can even smell the cum on the crotch. So what else have you been trying on.’

 Digging into the bag the skin brought out the bleachers and raised them up, smelling at the same time.

‘Fucking hell you have had the whole bloody lot on. My good skin gear you have been wearing and have a fucking great wank by the looks of things.’

‘No you are wrong.’

The Skin came up to Matt and pressed his face into Matt’s releasing a large gob of spit

‘Don’t fucking lie. You’ve got off on all the gear.’

And with that he thrust his hand up against Matt’s crotch feeling the hard outline.

‘And you’re fucking get off on it now you are facing a skinhead. Bet you shot all yer cum into my jock thinking you looked like a skin.’

Matt was terrified. He did not even dare to rub off the spit form his face as he felt it run over his lips.

‘Lick my spit you bastard and with that the skin took his hand opening Matt’s mouth and pushed the yellow gob into his mouth.

Before he knew what had happened the skin had his arm around Matts neck and with one quick kick to his ankles Matt fell to the ground. He was sprawled out on the floor with the skin standing above him staring down.

‘You ain’t a fucking skin yet you poof.’ and with that he took one of his ranger boots and pressed it over Matts head.

Matt could feel himself being pressed into the floor as if his head was about to be squashed and his cheek with a scar from the weight of the Ranger boot pressing down on him.

‘So tell me and you had better be true this time. Did you wear my gear?’

‘Yeeeeesss.’ Matt squealed.

‘That more like it you little cunt.’

The skin twisted his boot sole around Matt’s cheek and he could feel it marking and taking off skin but he felt helpless.

‘Now get the fuck up.’

Yanking matt up by the arm the skin threw matt into a chair and out of a drawer took some thick rope.

‘Hands behind yer fucking back.’

Matt so wanted to retaliate but something had him transfixed and he could only do as he was told.

His hands were tied behind him and he was then firmly fixed to the back of the chair.

‘I have something for you.’

In a few seconds the skin came back with a yellow stained jockstrap

‘So you like my jocks do you. Well this one ain’t been washed for a week. Got all me piss stains on it. Nice and yellow and reeks. And as I like a daily wank there’s a good few crusty cum blobs as well. Open your mouth, now. Nice and wide. You like jocks so get this right into your gob.’

The skin forced Matts open and shoved the jock in as far as he could causing Matt to gag.

‘Stop being such a pussy. Be a man and take this in and breathe properly. Smell my fucking piss.’

Once Matt had got over the shock every breath he took stank of old piss but the smell and seeing the skin standing there with his legs apart staring down at him , his heavy crotch jutting out was a turn on and he began to suck and swallow as much of the piss as he could. He was drinking the guy’s piss, taking him down his throat.

‘Christ you fucking love this, look at that cock of yours tenting. Fucking hard as a rock. You fucking love my piss.’

As he said this the skin was rubbing his crotch and Matt could see a hefty thick cock inching down his bleachers, his hand over forcing it bigger and bigger

‘Looks as if you need something bigger in that mouth of yours. I ain’t had a wank today and that mouth of yours sure looks ready for my spunk. He opened his flies and thrust his hand down the inside legs keeping his legs wide apart to make it easier to flip out his dick. Matt could see the guy was having problem taking it out due to its size. Suddenly it sprang out and was almost vertical a good thick cut 9”

‘You’ve got me fucking horny boy. Ain’t washed me cock for a couple of days so if you like the piss jock then you will love this .’

He moved into towards Matt with one hand keeping his cock down till it was level with Matt’s mouth.

‘Now open wide and let that saliva of yours work hard so you get it all the way down that throat of yours.’

‘I can’t take all that.’ Matt sobbed.

‘If you can take my jock shoved down your throat then you will manage this and looking at those eyes of yours, you want every inch of my prick.’

Matt let his tongue out to wipe the glistening head with his saliva. He could smell the man. It was high but it was such a turn on. He knew he wanted the cock down his throat and he wanted to taste all the spunk that as coming his way.

The skin had grabbed hold of Matts head

‘At least the hair allows me to grab you and bring you in. Not for fucking long.’

Matt did not understand all he knew was that he wanted the cock and wanted it deep. This time he knew how to breathe and as the skin pushed it in so Matt let it slide further and further down the back of his throat. He felt the foreskin stretch, he felt the cock throb and then at last he felt the guy’s balls against his lips. The taste of salt and precum was overwhelming. He wanted to devour the guy.

‘Now you got me in so it’s time to face fuck.’ and with his hands still firmly holding Matts hair he thrust his cock in and out at first slowly and then the rhythm changed to get faster and faster and as it got faster so the skin’s breathing increased and the throbbing in Matts mouth was stronger and stronger.

‘Fucking hell mate what a fucking mouth you have, a real cocksucker. Shit I’m about to come so get ready to swallow. Feel every drop of my spunk.’

‘Shit it’s coming, take it man.’ and with that the skin shot heavy bursts of cum all the way down, Matt trying to take it all but there was so much it was spewing out of his mouth and down his chin.

‘That’s the way a skin should suck. Fucking great mate.’

Forcing his cum stained cock back into his bleachers with still drops oozing through the denim, the skin went out and came back with various implements

‘So if you like wearing my gear then you have to look the part and that hair of yours has to go.’

‘You can’t do this, I’m about to go on holiday. I want to keep my hair.’

‘Forget all that and those fucking awful shirts of yours.’

The skin grabbed hold of Matt’s head and whispered into his ear.’ Don’t think of shaking that head of yours otherwise you will be cut to pieces. Better to keep still .’

Taking a barber razor the skin worked away and Matt could see his tresses fall to floor. He had no idea what he looked liked.

‘Not there yet mate. Rubbing shaving cream all over Matt’s head he then took a razor and worked quietly at times taking a swig from a bottle of beer. Matt could feel him close up against him and at times the cock rubbed against his body causing his own cock to stiffen up.

After half an hour the skin went off and came back with the clothes that he had worn the night before.

‘These are the ones you used eh.?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well now you can get them on and let me see you in my gear and when you are at it put these rangers on to finish it off. So let me untie you and get a move on.’

 ‘I’ll leave you to it or a few minutes but don’t be long I want to see what you had wanted to look like last night.’

Matt had to shake his arms with having had them behind him. He then took his hands over his head and his scalp was smooth. Not a hair remained. He remembered too well the clothes and stripping off quickly he put on the white socks, then the jockstrap and then well washed bleachers and he could see a small stain from his own cum the night before. Again he had to force his erect cock down inside. Next the T shirt and finally the bomber jacket. He searched for a mirror and opened a wardrobe door to look at himself. He moment he looked at his reflection something seemed to snap inside. This was no pretence. Staring back at him was a skin with a bloodied bruised cheek, a scalped head and the full gear showing a good sized erect cock bursting inside the bleachers. For a moment he seemed confused and then he knew life had changed. He said to himself

‘Fuck the holiday, fuck the poncy clothes, I’m a fucking  skinhead. This is my gear. I take no shit from anyone. I wanna be a skin, get me tattoos done, fuck and fuck all other skins. I look fucking great’

With that he took up the bottle of beer and downed the dregs.

The Skin walked back into the room

‘Fucking hell man, what a change. You’re looking fucking great. Just need to get you a pair of braces’ and he turned round to open a drawer. At that moment Matt made his move. He smashed the bottle of beer over the guys head with full force, the glass shattering everywhere.

The skin fell onto the floor, out cold.

‘Just because you’re a skin don’t fucking mess with me mate.’ Matt shouted. ‘You’ve had your way with me now it’s my turn.’

Matt dragged the slumped skin onto the sofa arse upwards

‘I saw that fucking rear zip of yours when I came in and wanted there and then to fuck the living daylights out of you. So you can feel my prick right up you when you wake.’

 Seeing the arse sticking up with the zip there for the taking made Matt feel so horny. He was ready and his cock was straining inside his bleachers. Taking the zip down, the bleachers were so tight they immediately split revealing a pair of well formed hairy arse cheeks.

‘Just what I fucking love, a hairy arse and I can feel it against my cock as I push in.’

Putting his hands inside the jeans he split the cheeks ready to enter and then he pulled his own cock out of the bleachers already with some precum at the tip,

Letting a good amount of spit onto his cock he rubbed it in gently.

‘You’re gonna wake up with a shock mate.’

Matt leant over the skin  and pushed his cock head between the hairy cheeks immediately finding the hole.

‘Nothing like fucking a skin when he is in full gear, so fucking sexy.’ He let his hand into the hairy crack and knowing hic cock had met its entry point gave a final push apart and then with an almighty shove rammed his cock in.

The skin suddenly wakened.

‘What the fuck.’

Matt taking his arm around the skins head grabbed his chin and lifted it as he let his cock slip higher and higher up the hole.

‘You’re gonna feel this all the way up to the hilt. You want me to look like a skin but that’s not enough for me. I know I look like a skin but I wanna be a skin and in your gear and now you have me all the way inside you.’

‘Fucking hell man do you need to ram me so quick. It fucking hurts.’

‘Just like your boot on my face mate.’

‘Tell you what I’ll stop for a minute to let you prepare but I want to see those hairy cheeks of yours respond and to push up and down while I put all my weight on you. All that sucking and having your jock in my mouth has made me so horny and you know yourself having felt my crotch.’

‘Christ that’s some cock there.’

‘Maybe not as big as yours but I know what to do with it. So come on, let me blast you. Start raising that arse of yours.’

The skin wanted him and starting slowly rising and falling so he could feel Matt’s cock almost split him.

‘Fucking great arse you have there, now I think it’s time for me to pump you. You just lie there.’

Matt started pushing in and out slowly so he could feel his cock sliding up the hole and as his throbbing increased so he pushed harder taking his cock almost out to the opening and then ramming all the way up so his balls hit against the hairy mass of the skin’s arse.

‘Go on fuck me mate let me have your spunk. I want it all.’

Pumping faster and faster and seeing the skin in all his gear with only his hairy arse showing was too much for Matt.

‘Shit mate I gonna spunk all the way up you.’

‘Give it to me.’

And with that Matt came inside his throbbing cock spurting wave after wave of creamy white cum. And then he collapsed on the skin.

As the two of them stood up to  face each other, the skin put his arm around Matt and deep tongued him Matt responding by taking hold of the skins head and almost swallowing the guy.

Matt said

‘I knew something strange happened last night when I tried on your gear. It was like you were inside me making me want to be like you. I wanted to keep your clothes but knew I had to hand them back and when you scalped me and made me dress again in your clothes that was it, I looked and felt like a skin and shit I so wanted you.’

‘I knew when I opened the door that you were here for a reason  and I knew that you had tried on my stuff and I knew the effect it would have on you. So what do we do with all those fucking patterned shirts?’

‘Put them down the rubbish chute. I don’t need them any longer.’

‘Just as well you have plenty of skin gear. Whatever gear I now put on I want it to be yours. I want you to give me all your old stinking stuff so I feel your body in me.’

‘Tell you what mate you know how to fuck but my cock wants to explode all the way up your arse.’

‘Then lets have a beer and ciggie  and get on with it.’

‘Will be a long day and night.’

[ginasbaby]

Hi nit of a weird request but can I request a Regina x reader smut based on the song dead girl walking from heathers? Like Regina knows she's about to loose her status either because of Cady or because she's about to be outed or something and comes over to y/n the day before. Idk why but I can't get the idea out if my head and especially the idea of Regina saying the line "hope I didn't wake you, see I decides I must ride you till I break you".

Thank u:)

Dead queen walking

Requested by anonymous 👍🏼

(Not a big fan of this one)

Regina George x reader;

A/n: Your welcome for the post! Thanks for the request, I hope this meets what you wanted- if not tell me and I’ll re-write!! I hope you enjoy the story!

Warnings: Smut with a bit of plot, Dom!regina sub!reader, thigh riding (Regina receiving), swearing. Lmk if there’s more!!

She stormed out the school, furious. Not only had the show gone wrong, but her social status had dropped. The next day would be humiliating for her. She didn’t even mutter a word to Gretchen or Karen. Not even they knew why the queen bee was angry. Sure they knew the talent show went wrong - but they didn’t think much about it. Then again, they didn’t think a lot.

“Bye Regina,” they both waved as Regina got into her very expensive, hot pink, jeep. Knowing that the hot-headed blonde would definitely not drop them off like she usually did, they walked along the path not uttering a word to each other.

^••^••^••^••^••^••^••^••^••^••^••^••^••^••^

As quickly as she could, Regina drove to your house, she thought that, somehow, you would be able to release some steam for her. She rapidly knocked onto the wood of what seemed to be Y/n’s door.

“Hello, Gina. What-“ the Y/H/C girl got cut off by a threatening but inmate kiss. “Okay, what’s wrong Gina?”

Regina still didn’t say a word and just closed the front door behind her. The troubled girl stormed her. The sweaty girl followed after her like a lost puppy.

“Gina, baby,” she said trying to grab the queen bee’s arm. When she finally managed to latch onto her arm she pulled her to look at the poor girl. Regina had mascara running down her cheeks and puffy eyes. The Y/S/C coloured girl close enough to kiss, moved backwards to give Regina some space. “Baby, really what’s wrong”.

“I’m sorry if I woke you, I decided I must ride you until I break you” she mumbled.

“What’s that honey,” y/n wipes away the falling tears.

“I-it’s just… Cady has been plotting against me the whole time, apparently, she’s been making me fat” she choked out a sob falling into the tired girl’s arms.

“Gina darling, I promise you didn’t wake me up, I was working out. And sweetheart I don’t care if you’re fat. I’ll still love you. And anyway, cady doesn’t matter just me and you okay?” her voice trailed off but was stopped with a passionate kiss. Y/n got pushed to the edge of what seemed to be her sofa. She finally knew what was happening and smirked into the kiss. When air was required they pulled back.

“You know you could have just asked if you were so desperate, I would have given you it,” her swollen lips formed into a small innocent smile.

Pushing herself onto her butt, she brought Regina forward placing an inmate kiss on her lips. She whimpered into the kiss when Regina bit her bottom lip, giving her a chance to slip her tongue in. Exploring all of her soulmates mouth. She brought her hands up to her peers rosy red cheeks and caressed them. She stopped for a moment and put their foreheads together. “Tell me when you want to stop, kay, cutie”. Y/n nodded eagerly - which made the blonde smile- she whispered a good girl which made the y/h/c girl smirk mischievously.

They both pushed their lips back against each other, Regina’s hands dropped down to y/n’s hips caressing them. Her mouth kissed her jaw all the way to her neck, sucking gently in the skin (just enough to leave a mark). A moan got caught in Y/n’s throat to which Regina squeezed her throat gently. Then the whimper finally came out as Regina found her pulse point and sucked on it. The bottom girl’s eyes fluttered shut waiting for further movement. But the she heard the movement go away from her. She opened her eyes and peeked through her eyelashes. The sight that beheld before her was Regina getting undressed. “No peeking baby” she giggled.

Regina peeled each layer off leaving y/n waiting impatiently. Once done, the blue-eyed girl moved towards Y/n and slowly uncovered her eyes.

"What's got you so horny Gina?" The y/h/c girl asked flushed but curious. The school star just put one finger to her lips, indicating for y/n to shut up. Regina slowly moved towards Y/nn, making her impatient. Quickly, she pulled Regina onto her thigh, Regina let out a whimper and threw her head back. Y/n, now that she has access, carefully bit down on her neck, licking to stop the soreness. Regina gripped onto her hair, tugging on it; smirking in satisfaction when the girl below her moaned onto her neck.

Subconsciously, Regina started to grind against the y/e/c girl her juices leaking all over her leg. Y/n guided her hands to help Regina hump against her thigh.

"Why-why are you still wearing these, baby," she moans out, tugging on Y/n's clothes.

"Just wait lovely." she gasped as Regina moaned on her pulse point, her movements getting sloppier.

"Y/n, m' gonna cum." She whined, chanting out her name as the liquids flowed out of her body, leaving Y/n's denim trousers dirty a nd sticky. Regina's body went limp for a moment as she regained her stamina. She pulled Y/n up shedding of her many layers and massaging her breasts.

"My turn babes". Y/n prayed that she could even walk tomorrow.

(Spoiler alert, she couldn't)

Like to support my page

[nataliasquote]

Double the trouble | a day out | n romanoff

Part of the ‘Double the trouble AU’

Summary: a day trip with 2 3-year-olds is a lot to handle…

Age: 3 years old

Warnings: none

Pairings: WandaNat

wc: 2.9k

note: this was a request from anon (my first request!) so I hope I did it justice

- ⧗ -

Isla was always the loudest twin. She had all her firsts before her sister; word, steps, you name it, she beat Y/n to it. Which often left the younger girl feeling behind and unworthy, born to only follow in the shadows of her twin sister.

Natasha and Wanda tried their hardest to treat their girls equally, but with Y/n’s reluctance to try anything new and Isla’s strong temperament, they had a difficult situation on their hands.

Being three years old meant days were filled with trips to the park and fun days out for the whole family. Isla had been begging to go to the zoo, the colourful picture books she begged Wanda to read every night cementing her love for animals. Y/n nodded when asked if she wanted to go too. But what was she supposed to say? She did everything Isla did.

But the zoo wasn’t her thing. Whilst her older sister toddled around and pointed animatedly at all the different animals, Y/n stayed beside the stroller, her tiny hands fiddling with the fabric seat as she stared at the concrete pavement. Natasha tried her hardest to involve her, often picking her up so she could see over the fences and pointing to the monkeys who were chasing each other around the enclosure. But the little girl was having none of it, her fist wrapped around the strap of her mama’s tank top.

“What’s the matter maylshka?” Natasha asked, holding Y/n tight to her body as she lead them both over to a nearby bench. “I thought you loved the zoo?”

The small girl shook her head, flaming hair falling loose from its braids. “Isla like zoo. Not me.”

Natasha’s brow furrowed as she looked at her daughter. “But you said you wanted to go?”

Y/n gave her mother a glare. A very familiar one at that. “No. Isla said go. Not me.”

Natasha shifted so her daughter was now sat on her knee. She gently moved a stray piece of hair from her forehead and kissed it gently, rubbing the soft cotton of her t-shirt. “I’m sorry malyshka. I thought you wanted to go too.”

“It’s ok Mama,” Y/n said, placing her cool palms on her mother’s warm cheeks. Natasha smiled softly at the gesture and booped her on the nose, making the young girl giggle. “Can we get ice cream?”

Natasha pretended to think for a moment. “Ice cream? Hmmm, I don’t know.”

“I think yes!”

“Do you? And does Y/n make the rules now?”

The young girl nodded happily, her whole body moving with the force. “Ice cream!”

“Ok, big girl. Let’s get ice cream.” Natasha stood up from her seat and began to set Y/n down on the ground, but the three year old clung to her front like the monkeys behind her, tiny heels digging into Natasha’s waist. There were many things Nat loved about her youngest, but Y/n’s clingy nature was by far her favourite. It made her feel wanted, important.

With a stroller handle in one hand and a child balanced carefully in the other, Nat set off towards the jungle themed cafe she’d spotted on the map by the gate. Wanda had taken Isla off to god knows where, the young girl unable to sit still with so much happening around her.

The cafe itself was rather busy so Natasha expertly manoeuvred the stroller into a corner booth table and kicked the brake down so it wouldn’t roll into anyone’s way. She sank down onto the cushioned blue seat and allowed Y/n to straddle her lap, soft red hair tickling her nostrils as the young girl lay against her mother’s chest.

Natasha quickly scanned her surroundings before pulling out her phone and punching a quick update text to Wanda, who replied back with a video of Isla at the penguin enclosure.

“Look Y/n,” she turned her phone so the young girl could see but Y/n didn’t pay much attention. She watched for two seconds before her head went straight back to Natasha’s collarbone, finding more comfort there than anywhere else. “You’re really not bothered by the zoo, huh?”

Y/n shook her head lazily, her thumb coming up to brush against her lips, a telltale sign for Natasha who was well trained in motherhood.

“I think someone’s tired?” Another sleepy nod. “You wanna go for a nap, detka?” Talking was clearly too much for Y/n, who only replied with yet another nod. Natasha took her response and pulled the stroller close. However, she was met with some resistance as she tried to transfer a now squirmy three year old into her seat. “What’s wrong?”

“-na stay with you,” Y/n mumbled around her thumb before Nat gently prised it out of her mouth. Y/n’s big green eyes blinked up at her tiredly and Natasha couldn’t help but coo at the sight. Her girls were the most adorable things in her life and when they were tired they were so precious.

Nat moved her body back into the corner of the booth and allowed Y/n to swivel around so she was flat against her chest, cheek resting comfortably on the softness of Natasha’s chest. They may not be fed like that anymore, but the twins still found great comfort from their mamas’ chests.

It didn’t take long for Y/n’s breaths to even out and Natasha couldn’t help but take a quick selfie with her daughter, the moment too precious to capture. She stared at her screen with a blissful expression before posting it to her close friends’ instagram story. Only family and the occasional friend was allowed on there, and Yelena of course was the first to send a reply.

@ yelenabelova7

you better be bringing those munchkins to me soon. I want baby Y/n hugs too

Natasha rolled her eyes and laughed as she replied, flawlessly typing even with one hand.

@ natromanoff

i’m impressed you got the twin right. and i’m not putting them on a plane so you’ll have to come here. I know isla would love that.

@ yelenabelova7

I can’t believe you doubt me Natasha. I know my Y/n when I see her. Besides, she’s always clinging to you. You got the quiet one. Wanda has her hands full with the other monkey

@ natromanoff

They’re both our children, Lena. Wands is just happy to be dragged around a zoo. I’d rather sit

@ yelenabelova7

HA! You’re getting old sestra. You’re a mother, not a grandma. Not yet anyway.

Yelena’s comment made Natasha roll her eyes and place her phone down on the table. She cradled Y/n’s head to her chest and rocked her gently back and forth. A smile broke out across her face as she spotted her wife push through the large glass doors, Isla tugging on her arm impatiently.

Natasha held a finger up to her lips as her favourite girls approached, trying not to disturb her youngest. But her efforts were in vain as Y/n recognised the approaching voices and lifted her head to peer around. Wanda bent down and kissed her head softly, brushing her hair back as she pulled away.

“Hello sleepy head,” she cooed, taking a seat on the opposite bench and pulling Isla onto her lap. “Did the ice cream make you sleepy?”

“We didn’t even get that far, did we?” Natasha laughed, watching as Y/n’s head perked up at the mention of the sweet dessert.

“Can we get it now?”

Wanda looked down at Isla. “You wanna get some with me and we can bring it back for Y/n and Mama?”

“Sure!”

“Me go too!” Y/n squirmed off Natasha’s lap and ran over to Wanda, taking the hand on her other side. “Mama stay?” She asked, looking back at Natasha.

The redhead nodded. “I’ll hold down the fort.”

Wanda led the twins away like a mother duck and her ducklings, holding their hands tight until they reached the large glass cabinet. The young woman behind the counter smiled at the precious sight in front of her as the twins stretched up on their toes to peer in.

“Pink!” Y/n exclaimed, pointing to the candy floss ice cream that sounded disgusting in Wanda’s eyes. “Can I get pink?”

“Mommy I want chocolate!”

“What do we say when we want something?” Wanda asked, putting on her best ‘mom’ voice.

“Pleeeeeese?” The girls chorused, tiny toothy smiles dazzling up at their mommy. The worker chuckled and caught Y/n’s eye so she smiled widely at her too.

“That’s better. And yes, you can get whatever you would like. But you have to ask the nice lady politely.”

Isla being Isla spoke up first, puffing out her chest as she took a deep breath. “Please can I have chocolate please?” She pointed into the cabinet, just in case the server wasn’t sure which one was chocolate.

“Of course you can sweetheart. Is that in a cone or a cup?” Isla looked at her blankly and turned to Wanda, a clear cry for help.

“The smallest cone you do please. And just one scoop.” The girl nodded and began preparing her order. “They don’t need too much sugar.”

Once Isla’s order was complete the server turned to Y/n who was staring intently at all the colourful flavours. “Which one would you like sweetheart?”

“Pink?”

“Strawberry?” Y/n looked up at Wanda, tugging her sleeve for help. The mother shook her head and watched to see which one her daughter pointed too. Granted, Y/n could barely point in the right direction but her intention was enough to go off.

“I think she means the candyfloss. The one with the glitter on it.”

Y/n’s was scooped into a similar cone to Isla and then placed on the stand. Wanda quickly sorted herself and Natasha out; two scoops of honeycomb crunch in a cup for herself, and a double scoop of caramel coffee for Nat. Wanda always teased her wife for crunching on the coffee beans that topped her scoop. Natasha sure was a strange one when it came to her flavour preferences.

Ice creams clutched tightly in hands, Wanda ushered her little ducklings back to the safety of the booth where Natasha was waiting, a large grin plastered onto her face that mirrored that of her ice cream laden babies.

Sweet treats were consumed from the safety of the jungle themed cafe and Isla and Y/n swung their feet happily as they nibbled on their cones. Sticky hands and faces were just inevitable and Wanda was soon ready to attack both with baby wipes the second they were done.

“Did you two see everything you wanted to?” Natasha asked, scrolling through the pictures on Wanda’s phone of Isla at various exhibits.

“I saw lions!” Isla bared her teeth and roared, shaking her head like she’d seen the majestic creature do hours earlier. “And the ‘raffes!”

“Giraffes?”

“Yeah!”

Y/n tugged on Natasha’s sleeve and pointed to part of the mural covering the wall to her right. “They have those here?”

The colourful sea creatures were definitely oversaturated; pink sharks didn’t sit comfortably with Natasha. But she followed Y/n finger to a sparkly blue turtle and smiled, noticing how Isla and Wanda also did the same.

“I saw a sign for an aquarium around the corner,” Wanda said. “There could be turtles in there.”

“We go!”

“Now hold on a minute-“ Wanda started, but telling two sugared-up three years olds on a mission to slow down was a fruitless effort. Natasha grabbed both of their tiny wrists and gently tugged them back to the table, earning little angry glares from both girls.

“What did we say about running off?”

“But-“

“Not buts, Y/n. What did we say?”

“Don’t run off,” they said in unison, the floor now much more interesting than Natasha who wasn’t smiling. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok munchkin, just wait 2 minutes and we’ll be ready.”

Wanda and Natasha packed up quickly and headed towards the aquarium side of the zoo, eyes glued to the two little girls in front of them whose hands were tightly clasped together. They may have their favourite parent and stay glued to their side, but Y/n and Isla’s bond truly was unbreakable. Starkly different, yet inseparable.

[notroosterbradshaw]

warm blood

about: a few drinks at everyone’s favourite bar. you’re home, it’s been a few very cold months at sea. he warms you to your bones each time you see him. but it’s sadly just not meant to be. 

word count: 5.6k

warnings: angst, language, vivid thots of smut if you have an over-active imagination.

The sound that escaped Rooster’s lips as you dragged your nails through his unruly sun-kissed curls had you cackling. A feral growl that started at his boots, so low that when released, he almost didn’t recognise himself. “Rooster Bradshaw, you need a girlfriend,” you decided.

His side-eye to you was legendary and he sighed dramatically. “I don’t need a girlfriend; I just need to get laid,” he clarified, realising just how pitiful he sounded and then adding softly when you ceased your ministrations, “Please don’t stop. That feels so fuckin’ good. It’s like the most physical contact I’ve had in...” he mumbled, his honey-coloured eyes fluttering closed and took a deep, satisfied pull of his beer. God, how long had it been? He didn’t want to admit to himself, let alone you, how long it’d been since someone had touched him like that.

You sighed and let go of him to scamper onto the bar. A quiet Tuesday night, if it were the weekend, the place would be pulsating, but you had plenty of space to lay some affection on Rooster without the bullshit that could generally come with it and it definitely seemed like he needed it…

You spread your legs modestly (as your jeans would allow) and held out your hands open in welcome. Without a question of hesitance, he stepped to you as you turned him away from you and continued to press your fingertips into his scalp with the added leverage of this new height. His strong shoulders dropped, completely melting with your touch.

“Jesus Christ, that’s good,” he murmured quietly, crossing his arms across his chest, his head lolling forward. “And you decided to be a naval aviator?” he teased. “Your hands could have been better used in much better ways.”

“Ha,” you muttered behind him. “Don’t get smart. I have generous fingers. You need me more than I need you right now.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he replied.

Whispered close to him, you said, “This must be the longest dry spell you’ve ever had,” you reckoned.

He nudged his ear closer to your breath and shrugged lightly. “Fuckin’ feels like it,” he said dismally.

“How long?” you dared ask.

“It’s goin’ with me to the grave, don’t ask stupid questions,” he muttered dryly in reply as you tried to hide your grin and reached for a sip of your own beer. He turned back to you, stepping out of your grasp and putting a respectful distance between your bodies, the moment passed. You crossed your legs at the ankles properly as he made a face; he’d let pretences lie and would never admit he hadn’t been satisfied sexually since... “Maybe you’re right, I just need a girlfriend.”

Sure, he’d had a lot of sex and lots recently, a healthy amount. Probably more than most. But these days, nothing was fulfilling him. He was desperate to find a connection with someone that just wasn’t happening. Women on platters, and he didn’t know how to strike out even on his worst night. Everyone would cum and have the time of their lives. But it was never enough for Rooster to want to see them again.

“Rooster, you have no trouble finding someone to fuck… why are you so off your game?”

“Dunno,” was his simple answer.

“Well, why don’t you go drag all the ladies in with a song or something?” you suggested, hoping to perk him up, ever his cheerleader, although it was fairly dead. He shook his head and honestly, he didn’t need to sit at the piano to have all eyes on him. At any point of the night, you’d look up and find some poor soul caught staring and trapped in the web of Lieutenant Commander Bradley Bradshaw and the authority he easily demanded.

“Naw,” he didn’t feel like the spectacle tonight.

“Want me to wing woman for you?” you offered in finality. “Babe on the other side of the bar. Pretty smile, curvy...” You chewed your own lip. “Very cute.”

“You’d do that?” he asked, following your gaze and kudos to you, you knew his type, all right.

“Of course. I can’t deal with you when you’re being a whiny little bitch. If it means you get your cock wet, I’m here for you, pal,” you roughly smacked his rosy cheek, and he laughed, clutching the sting as you asked him how you looked, propping yourself off the sticky bar and he steadied you.

He gave you a once over, a fond glance in his dark eyes. “Beautiful, but are you trying to get laid, or am I?” he pondered.

“I swore off your kind as a New Year’s resolution. I want the year to myself,” you grandstanded, and he chuckled.

“You’ll be begging for sex soon enough,” he straightened and took another long slug of his beer. “I know you. I know what you need,” his voice dropped a little lower, easing his lean frame against the bar.

Your eyes met his and honestly… he probably knew exactly what you needed, what you craved and deserved and as a few beats passed, his eyes daringly never left yours. His face remained passive, daring you to play his little game.

“You know what I let you know,” you weren’t sure how to play his words off so you finished your beer. But really? You hated how right he was. He’d been the only one to get a read on you when you first landed yourself in his seminar a year or so back. “I’ve got toys, I’ve got fingers,” you reminded him, reaching for him with jazz hands as he licked back his grin, growing wider by the second.

“You fuckin’ deviant,” he breathed. It was untrue, but he loved to goad you… and you loved when he teased you too. Just a little too much.

“Hey. If I want to find someone to share my time with, I won’t hesitate to break my resolution. They’re made to be broken, aren’t they?” you shrugged flippantly, blood searing under your skin.

He nodded, not disagreeing. “Yeah, well… I’m sick of my hands,” he admitted dismally as you took the hand that rested on his quad and cupped it on your own. He laughed quietly and gripped your palm back. “I just miss the warmth, you know?”

Pressing the back of his warm, strong hand to your cheek, he laughed again as you gave him the biggest doe eyes with the dreamiest, forced smile, and he sighed. Each touch, each glance, each comment was just another link to how fucking good your friendship was and although the Navy had an odd way to keep you separated, your friendship trumped responsibility.

“Don’t start. Knock it off immediately,” he told you sternly. He could fall for those eyes in a heartbeat so it was best you put them away. You prayed desperately for him one day to give in to the heat and make that move past that imaginary line you had drawn.

Moving back to your seat like a scorned child, you didn’t give up. It could be one of your worst qualities at the best of times. Never knowing when to just shut up. “No, tell me exactly what you miss. Tell me what you need.” You settled in. You would love to know what turned Rooster Bradshaw on. He wasn’t like the other guys – he kept his conquests quiet. Lowkey. Sure, you knew when he was in the game, he made no secret of his intentions. But gee, he always seemed more complicated than an easy fuck kinda guy. “I want to know.”

“You don’t need to hear about any of that stuff,” he rolled his eyes and retrieved his hand, stuffing it back in his jeans pocket where it was safe and sound. “Trust me, you’ll be just like me soon enough,” he warned.

“Look, if you get to a point you’re absolutely desperate, blue from top to toe, I’ll drop my standards for a night and give you a night you won’t forget, okay, big guy?” you tried to bite back the laugh that bubbled under the surface and you weren’t remotely surprised he gave you the bird in response. “You’re just lazy. Go drop a line on any woman in here, and I guarantee, she will be putty in your hands.” You’d know.

It seemed like such a nut-up or shut-up order, Rooster knew he had no choice but to follow through. Standing to his height and adjusting to his posture, he mumbled, “Fine,” he stole your fresh beer as you protested and wandered around the bar, stopping before the gorgeous woman, who if truth be told, was exactly his usual type, you’d pointed out only moments earlier. Well, what was expected to be his type - that glint in her eye that told him he wouldn’t have to work too hard to get her number either. 

“Hey hey, look who’s back on dry land!” Natasha grinned, giving you a gentle side hug and ordering a drink. “When you’d sneak in, partner?”

“About half an hour ago. Your buddy cornered me first,” you explained as Natasha replaced the beer in your palm. “How’s he been?” you asked softly.

“Okay,” she shrugged. “Usual. Broody.”

“He was telling me he was lonely,” the word didn’t roll off your tongue easily even if it was something so synonymous with Rooster’s character.

“Shit, really?” Natasha raised her bottle as you nodded. “Anything to be wary of?”

“Don’t think so. You know how he is,” you told her, and she knew. Only Bradley Bradshaw could be so lucky as to always have you and Natasha Trace in his corner. “Oh, look,” you said as he nodded to you gratefully across the bar, and you winked back. “There he is - back in the saddle with absolutely little to no effort on his behalf. Well done, Rooster,” you said bored and just the teeniest bit sarcastic. “Bra-vo.”

“Please, if you had the chance, you wouldn’t share him,” Natasha righted you, smirking behind the pull of her beer.

“What can I do?” you admitted, thinking the idea had crossed your mind once, twice or every night since you’d met him about what it might be like to be the object of Rooster Bradshaw’s affections. C’mon, you weren’t immune to him. In fact, it was anything but -

“Please, he almost came in his jeans as you played with his hair before.”

“What?” you and Natasha yelped as Jake sidled up to you, grinning.

“You were playing with his hair?” Natasha asked, raising a curious eyebrow. “Oh, wow,” her tone told her everything she was thinking and none of it was approving.

“Hold that thought,” you hissed at her as she raised her palms for mercy, a small smile burgeoning on her lips. “And, fuck off, Bagman. Isn’t there some pathetic 21-year-old looking to be treated like shit for a few weeks while you string her on?” you muttered. Jake made a face.

“I’m just sayin’… wouldn’t be the worst thing if you guys tested the waters. See if there’s any sexual chemistry. Might even make Rooster a tolerable human being but it is behaviour like that that’ll get you both kicked out of the Navy.” Jake added as you threw a few loose salted peanuts at him. “Hey, I’m allergic!” he feigned, dusting himself off as he wandered off with a snicker, pleased he’d managed to rile you up with, really, very little effort on his behalf.

“I’m only learning he’s allergic to peanuts now?” you muttered to yourself.

“He is so fuckin’ toxic,” Natasha sighed. Toxic, realistic, honest. There was a lot to be said about Jake Seresin and his perception of the world. But you also kind of loved his lack of filter and how he called it as he saw it. Bit like yourself, he just had his head shoved far further up his own ass than you did… mostly.

“It’s actually his most likeable attribute,” you reckoned with a tease, tossing more peanuts across the bar after him for good measure. He made a face but was completely unaffected.

“But he doesn’t make a terrible point…” she continued as you both looked towards the other side of the bar, watching Rooster and the ease he roped his conquest in. Lick of the lips, make sure those golden biceps were bulging, aviators sliding gently down his nose as he gazed down at her… wait, there you go. She easily took the bait and nervously pushed the glasses up as he huffed a small chuckle at her moxie. He pulled his phone from his pocket a few moments later and handed it to her, clearly asking for her number. You had to give her kudos – she resisted his charms for about 1.6 seconds.

“Don’t be like that,” you begged.

“Like what?”

“Trying to encourage this. I’m dumb enough for him as it is.”

Nat gave you a tight-lipped smile and apologised. She understood, dear lord, she understood how you felt and while she could tease you unmercifully about it, she knew this wasn’t a passing crush for you. She gave her attention back to Rooster and muttered, “It’s like a car accident but I can’t look away.”

“Good for him,” you muffled, wrapping your lips around the bottle and taking a deep slug as she nudged you.

“Remember why you swore off all sex and relationships this year,” she said softly. “The purge.”

“This purge is for good,” you reminded yourself, saying it a few times like a mantra. Pity you didn’t believe it in the slightest. “You’re remarkably light tonight.”

She shrugged modestly and went into the small, very necessary details about her afternoon delight. “Don’t you miss the intimacy though?”

“Natasha, I know I made my bed and have to sleep in it, but I miss everything. I just want to come home and fall into someone’s strong arms, ground me, remind me I’m safe again until the motion of the waves stops rocking me.”

Natasha looked at you fondly. “That is actually quite poetic.”

You sipped your beer, pushed out an exhale and added drily, “Then get absolutely pounded on every surface of the house until I’m weeping.”

She cackled. “That’s my girl.”

“I got off the boat today... had the biggest plans. Wine, new rose toy I was dreaming about for the last three months... motherfucker needed to be charged.”

“You got two hands,” Phoenix reminded you just as Rooster had.

“Every night at sea, Phoenix,” you reminded her. And she knew. Dear God, did Natasha Trace know. “Every night.”

“Penny, can we get a coupla rounds of tequila here, please? Our girl is going through it,” Natasha smiled at the pretty bar owner who winked in the affirmative. You away from Rooster although Natasha motioned in his direction. “So, how was he when he saw you?”

“That slow grin… ” you said low and only for her ears. “The way he moves to his feet is a fuckin’ sin. He looked so good, I think I probably stumbled,” you cursed yourself.

“Sea legs,” Natasha patted your wrist and tried to make you feel better.

“Sure,” you shrugged flippantly. “Three months away did absolutely nothing to shut this little crush down.”

“That’s what you’re going with? Little crush,” Natasha repeated with a snort as Penny put a series of shots before you and took one quickly with you and Natasha between patrons.

“Little crush?” Rooster’s hands were on your shoulders, his strong palms massaging your tense shoulders, thumbs pressing into the nape of your neck and every ounce of tension drained from your being as he poked his face into your intimate twosome, a curious grin on his face as you and she straightened up quickly, turning to face him and he released his grasp on you. “Who has a little crush?” he asked, remarkably perkier than he was ten minutes earlier.

“You’re still here?” you asked him. “Thought you’d be on your way to - ”

“Amelie’s,” he supplied.

“That’s quite sweet actually,” you noted as he nodded, amused, almost like you couldn’t imagine a more beautiful name being found in a place like The Hard Deck. “Amelie’s house…”

“We said we’d meet up a bit later,” he shrugged, catching Penny’s attention for another round. “Been a while since we were all together. We missed ya, kid,” he told you as he snuck a shot. Natasha rolled her eyes.

“Well, here I am,” you forced a grin as he mirrored yours and it spread as wide on his handsome features.

“Yep. You sure are. Back where you belong,” he said as the air around you changed, and Natasha would be lying to say she’d never felt more like a third wheel in her life. She watched you watch the other, it was almost like you were daring the other to look away first. She could feel whatever it was between the two of you and knew that it was much deeper than either of you would admit. Well, she knew exactly how you felt. With Bob back in Lemoore with his family and Natasha needing another partner, you had been brought in and the PR party the Navy had with you as an all-female team? Sheesh.

She also knew how much you would risk everything to be with him. She’d never outwardly encouraged it, but she could see how hard you both fought to keep your desire for the other in check. He did better at trying to conceal it, but it was written all over your face. You looked at him like he hung the moon.

“Wanna get really drunk tonight?” you asked him, wrapping an arm around Natasha’s shoulder.

“Hey, don’t rope me into your hangovers,” Natasha tried as you covered her mouth with your free hand.

“Hush, love,” you tutted her. “You’re either with us or against us.”

She pursed her lips as you and Rooster grinned widely at her. “…you two will be the death of me.”

Cheering together that you’d drawn her with such little effort on your behalf, Rooster laughed. “Yeah, kinda think it’s a good night to get messy.”

“Natasha Trace, line ‘em up,” you instructed as she begrudgingly nodded, and Rooster rubbed his hands with glee.

“I am not good,” you told Rooster a few hours later. Rooster could readily agree that neither was he. Natasha and the rest of the team had bailed a while ago, leaving you together at the bar. “I really have to go.”

“Yeah, I know,” he replied. “Getting drunk wasn’t going to help you get over any exhaustion.”

“I haven’t slept in…” you squinted at your watch. “Wow, 36 hours. My bed is going to be so good tonight,” Bed, bed, bed. “Oh shit, Amelie!” you exclaimed, sipping your ice water. “Wasn’t she waiting for you?”

He shrugged. “Five minutes of pleasure there, three hours here with you and our friends. I know where I’d rather be.”

“Five minutes, dude,” you giggled quietly. You didn’t believe it for a second.

“I didn’t exactly see forever with her, Jesus,” he muttered, licking back a smirk of his own.

“I would never believe that anyway.”

“Thank you,” he finally let a giggle bubble out. “And you shouldn’t.”

“Did you at least text her? You were interested three hours ago…”

“I think she put her number into my phone wrong,” he lied so easily it was almost disappointing.

“Rooooster,” you dragged out.

He shrugged. “So what? Changed my mind,” he said simply.

“Hey, you two,” Penny sniped, pulling your attention from each other. “You either get a cloth and start cleaning up or you think about getting outta here, so you don’t have numbers in your system in the morning,” she warned. The bar had long since rang the last call and you were the last patrons standing – but also, on the plus side for Penny, probably the evening’s highest paying.

“Sorry, Penny. Lemme pay,” Rooster said, getting his credit card from his wallet and tossing it on the gummed-up bench. She grinned and slid the card back across the bar as Rooster protested.

“Hangman took a chunk of the bill off earlier. I’ll let you two get away with a few freebies if you lock the door on the way out?”

“Oops,” you said, picking yourself up and stretching. “We will,” you said as you collected your belongings. “Sorry again.”

She gave a gentle nod as you headed for the door. “Someone will be,” she whispered to herself solemnly.

“I’d better walk you home, I guess,” Rooster said, waving goodnight and following you a careful distance away.

“You don’t have to do that,” you said as he opened the door for you and let you out into the cooler night air. The liquor in your system swept a series of goose pimples break out as the breeze off the ocean breeze hit your skin. You shivered instinctively.

“You good?” he asked.

“Yes, Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw, I’m perfectly fine,” you answered, rolling your eyes and inhaling the sea air. “You think I’d get sick of it, right?” you asked with a grin.

He didn’t even need you to explain yourself. “Never,” because he understood the feeling implicitly.

“Never,” you repeated as he nodded towards the beach, following the path to your place.

You walked in a comfortable silence for a while and before you realised it, your villa was before you. “Here we are. I actually can’t wait to get to sleep in my own bed.”

He grinned. “One that doesn’t rock.”

“Not tonight it won’t,” you said glumly, taking his comment as a double entendre as he giggled quietly even though he was probably being purely innocent in his commentary, following you to the door. You struggled with the key for a few moments before he carefully nudged you aside and remedied the situation at hand.

The door opened and he sighed. Relieved, disappointed, he didn’t know. “I’ll see you tomorrow, huh?”

“I am off until next week,” you told him. God knows you needed it.

“So, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he reiterated with a gentle smile, but if he meant the bar, you couldn’t fathom backing up from the eventual hangover tomorrow was sure to bring. It filled you with dread.

“Yessir,” you mumbled as you stared at the other for a moment. So much to say that would always remain silent. For any other two people in the universe, right now you would be taking those last steps closer, lips tenderly brushing the others and seeing if the kiss was right. He would lay his strong, calloused palms on your hips, squeezing you closer to rest your body against his and you would willingly encourage the kiss -

Yet here you were, taking that next step in the other direction to go to bed alone, without even the slightest touch to say goodnight; no whisper of a whiskey-laced caress to dare cross your lips. And all you really wanted was to take his hand and guide him to your room that he’d never seen the inside of, strip him down, and explore the body he worked so hard on perfecting. Let him discover your body with his hands, with his lips, his tongue. Find out what made you call his name out in the dark.  

See what made the other make sounds that you only dreamed about, that you only thought he made in the throes of fucking, limited only to when the groans of pleasure he’d make when he found out how wet you really were for him and how well, til then, you’d hidden it from him.

How wild you willed him to be, reckless when he stopped holding himself back, the guttural, primal movements of his strong body as he slammed into you, touching every piece of naked skin within his grasp. How his tongue would devour yours and his kisses not missing a beat, working in perfect tandem with the rhythm of his hips –

“Where you at, sunshine?” he asked with a peaked dark brow, waving a palm in front of your face. Jesus Christ, how long had you been fantasising while he was standing right before you?! “Looks like it’s time for bed, kiddo.”

You huffed an embarrassed laugh. “Definitely,” you agreed, blame it on months at sea, blame it on the alcohol. Get you inside alone immediately if not sooner. Put this sexual frustration to bed once and for all. “Goodnight, Rooster. Thanks for walking me back.”

“Lieutenant,” he gave a gentle wave as you forced a smile and closed the door before you did something incredibly stupid… like drag your superior officer in and do things that would certainly dishonourably discharge you (or both of you), suspend your pay or worst, confinement for two years. You didn’t know which one scared you the most.

But you were pretty sure the feelings you had for Rooster were the worst of a bad bunch.

And you were whipping the door open again as you saw him heading back towards the street. “Rooster,” you said as he paused. “Bradley...” you repeated, a name you rarely called him, but Lieutenant Commander was certainly not how you wanted to get his attention at 2am in the middle of the street.

He looked at you and back to your house, confused. “You okay? What’s going on?” The concern in his voice was evident.

“No, no. I’m honestly fine,” you reassured him. “I just need you to know how stupid I am,” spit it out, your brain (and heart) screamed. He laughed quietly.

“What are you talking about?”

You stayed silent and you could tell he was growing uncomfortable. He was adorable and so terribly clueless. “Rooster, I was being honest before.”

He frowned and shrugged, nothing standing out to him that he was to recall. “I mean, I’d hope so. But what, exactly?”

You inhaled sharply. “Earlier tonight, I wasn’t kidding... I will be there for you anytime you need me. In any way...” you took in his face as it began to dawn on him what you were insinuating. “You need me. A friend, wingman, a confident... whatever.”

He swallowed roughly. “Oh.”

You let go of him. “It’s all so easy when we’re away from each other, but then I see you and all I can think about is how good we are together and how good we could be...”

“Jesus...” he muttered quietly, rubbing his tired face but his gaze remained hard on you, unbelieving. “How drunk are you?” he wanted to blame the alcohol now too.

“Sober enough to know this had to come out eventually. I can’t just be one of the boys anymore, not with the way you make me feel. I think about you all the time,” you took a breath and repeated, “All the time.”

He took your wrists and dragged you back to your front stoop. He trapped you against the door and caged you under his strong arms, hoping you’d go in and pretend what you were announcing wasn’t tangible. He drew in a shaky breath, but he didn’t dare touch you. You could feel the heat radiating off his golden skin and the way his tongue ran over his full lips. “Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because I can’t keep it in anymore. Because you need to know that if you want me, I’ll be waiting.”

“How long has this been going on?” he asked quietly. “How long have you felt like this?”

“Since my first seminar. Was this stupid moustache,” you confided as he flushed and laughed incredulously to himself, this couldn’t be real. “And I know I’ve probably ruined our friendship, completely tested the boundaries of professionalism and you probably hate me – ”

“Hate you?” he repeated, grimacing. “In no world could I ever hate you, kid.”

“Really?” you asked, a hopeful flutter in your heart. “I know this isn’t what you were expecting, and believe me… I didn’t want to feel this way, I just… I just can’t seem to stop,” the sheer frustration evident in your voice and he could viscerally feel your discontentment. “It’s supposed to go away when we’re on the job. I went away for fuckin’ months, and I see you tonight,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. “And in my fuckin’ brain was convinced I was over it.”

“Your heart?” he asked quietly.

“Didn’t agree,” you confided, embarrassed. Quiet. Ashamed. Tortured.

He sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping. Nothing you were saying made sense, not when he knew he felt exactly the same and every day did everything in his power to try and pretend his feelings for you didn’t exist. “Kid – ”

“I know I’ve ruined our friendship. I know I’m putting everything we have at stake, whether it’s personal or professional, and I’m sorry, but I’m about to burst,” you wanted to yell.

“Hey, hey,” he soothed, “Calm down. I know... I know,” he said softly. He desperately wanted to give just one reassuring nudge but knew every touch could be construed as something else, and Bradley Bradshaw had never felt so torn in two before.

“You know?” you asked, a spark of hope lurching in your heart.

“There is something here, you know there is,” his voice was so low. “But what way is there around it? It’s a lose-lose situation. I’m your superior.”

“Trust me, I’m well aware of that,” your sweet, pained voice was so sombre, it was haunting him. For so long, he’d denied how he’d felt; he had to. You were his direct report, he was your teacher, and you were his dutiful student. And it wasn’t intentional that he felt how he did because he did everything in his power to push any of the nonsensical feelings away, he begged to be sent OS, anything to resist the temptation… but the temptation of what you made him feel - alive - was the hardest to shake and he missed the feeling whenever you were away.

“I don’t know what else I can say - ” he tried.

“I think of you when I touch myself, Rooster,” you grasped his shirt and you saw him swallow roughly. You went for the big guns… you were spiralling and desperate. But it certainly was no word of a lie.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he took that step closer but dared not touch you in return, his palms almost pressing their indent into your front door. He feared if took another step and felt you were against him, he would give in and risk everything. “…tell me more,” he begged. “Please. What do you see?”

“Really?” you asked softly. 

“I need... I need to know,” his voice was so low, you felt it to your bones.

Your hands rose to his rest on his pecs, his muscles reacting under your touch, his head lolling closer, lips so close but like magnets, they kept a safe distance repelled. “It always comes back to me goin’ down on you. The sounds I imagine you make, hard and hot in my mouth. How you taste,” you felt the heat radiate through your body, but now you’d started you weren’t sure that you could stop… and you weren’t sure Rooster wanted you to either.

“Do you want to find out?” he said, voice gravelly, standing over you, millimetre by excruciating millimetre, he crept closer. He had never been so uncomfortable, but never so close to needing the relief you were placing right in his palms.

“Do you?” you challenged, your knuckles grazing his abs hard and tense under his shirt, coming to rest on his hips, your fingertips tracing the seams on his belt. His eyes drifted closed and tried to find his resolve. You must have been challenging him, there was no other recourse for this. Your banter together was notorious... but this was testing the limits of your friendship.

That imaginary line was non-existent now. There was no turning back.

“You’re bullshitin’ me, I know you are,” he said, and it hurt to admit, his breathing heavy and uncontrolled. Desire radiated through him and he now knew, he wouldn’t be able to go back to a place where this wasn’t happening.

“Rooster,” you took that step he couldn’t, bodies flush against the other. “That woman, Amelie, she won’t please you the way I will. Let me show you how good we can be together,” you pleaded softly.

“You're my friend...” his brain just couldn’t function; it couldn’t comprehend these words you were telling him. Words he’d wanted to hear you say since you shared that first small grin, seated proudly beside Phoenix. You’d share so many near misses together that actually getting to this made him wonder if he was dreaming. “I’m your commanding officer.” It all came down to this.

But you couldn’t hear his defences and asked, “Have you never thought of me the same way I think of you?”

His dark eyes burned deeply into yours and without a hint of a lie, he replied, “You know I have,” it was barely audible, when he added, “You know. You know I want you, kid… Everyone does.” And that was the problem for all involved. 

“Then don’t worry about the next notch in the bedpost… and let me show you what you’re missing.”

He breathed, the whiskey on his tongue swirling and you were desperate to taste it.

“Say it. Say what you’re thinking.”

He raised his eyes to yours, his strong hand reaching for the door handle behind you. “One night. No rules. Tomorrow, we will never speak of this again,” he turned the knob and the door opened. He gently grasped your wrist as he led you inside and at that moment, you knew every facet of your life was irrevocably changed.

A/N: the tag list no longer exists. To keep up to date, give @notroosterbradshaw-library a follow x

[jermer10]

TF2 relationship hcs + miss pauling

suggestive, gn reader | silly romantic hcs

drabbles under the cut :P

Scout:

- the most emotionally immature out of all the mercs, also the most inexperienced with dating so he can get pretty jealous over stupid things - a demo flirts with you? dead. a medic pockets you for too long? whoops didn’t see that enemy sorry medic. god forbid another scout even breathes in your direction - ironically he used you to make Pauling jealous and eventually realised he actually likes YOU (fake dating trope my beloved) - non-stop rambles about you to his ma, when she meets you she’s already calling you her child in law - dates with scout usually consist of going to baseball games or getting lunch together, he’s pretty simple and won’t plan anything too extravagant unless it’s an occasion (with spy’s help ofc) - not huge on pda, will hold your waist or sling an arm around your shoulders on occasion, in privacy however he is HUGE on physical affection he loves you sm <333 - stroking your hair and running his fingers along your back, kisses on your neck, throwing in a couple of cheesy pickup lines here and there - pretty much only refers to you with pet names, “doll, babe, toots, handsome, etc” he’ll only use your name when he’s emotional or during intimacy

Soldier: - the most dense man on god’s green american earth so unless you’re similar to zhanna, chances are he won’t even bat an eye at you. you need to be batshit and violent for this man to notice you first - wakes you up at 5am sharp every morning for “training” (forcing you to workout with him whilst he yells at you….lovingly?) expect to be buff as hell after a couple months because his routines are intense - “DROP AND GIVE ME 20 CUPCAKE” “GOOD JOB SOLDIER. HERE IS A KISS FOR YOUR HARD WORK” “PUSH THROUGH THE PAIN SWEETHEART” - his kisses are really rough, he lifts you up into the air and spins you around or dips you and it’s genuinely super sweet, he enjoys picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder as well :3c - he has no jealous bone in his body, only random accusatory statements towards anyone who shows kindness towards you and it deters them enough for soldier to never have to worry - dates with soldier usually consist of working out or going to war museums, will never plan fancy dates so that’s all up to you - does not care about public or private affection, he will makeout with you anytime, anywhere and is unapologetic about it, much to everyone else’s dismay - “EUGH! GET A ROOM YOU TWO!” “AFFIRMATIVE, WE WILL MOVE TO THE LIVING ROOM”

Pyro: - i hc pyro as being aroace so a romantic-platonic relationship between you guys would be more mushy and cute than anything else - going out on ice-cream dates and buying matching colouring books and seeing how differently you each colour the same scene - cheek kisses no matter where you are is a must!!! holding hands around the base, tapping on each-other when bored and to show affection <3333 - the other mercs have no fucking idea what your relationship is but none of them care as long as you’re keeping pyro in check - you’re the first and only merc to see pyro without their mask on, one of the most tender moments shared between you and something that they treasure - pyro doesn’t get jealous, but they will harm anyone who makes you uncomfortable, no questions asked - cuddle buddies!!!! you guys can be seen lying around the base in a sleepy huddle, i can see demo joining and medic or engie tripping over y’all 😭 - they are super attentive of your needs and compromise despite having trouble feeling romantic or sexual attraction, as long as you enjoy it, they enjoy it

Demoman: - more of a flirt than scout is, and that’s saying something. demo will chat you up at any time of the day, whether it be in the privacy of your bedroom or straight up on the battlefield - has died MULTIPLE times because he just cant keep his eye off you, he makes mental notes of how attractive you look while bashing an enemy spy’s brain in and uses it later (WINK) - a solid 80% of your relationship is shared in silly drunk moments and the other 20 is rooted in insecurity. demo being jealous? likely. demo being scared of you leaving him for someone with two eyes and their head on straight? definitely - there are nights where he feels completely sober just holding you in his arms and acknowledging that you’re here and you love him, warts and all - SUPER BIG ON PDA!!! he wants the entire world to know that you’re his, also super big on cheesy nicknames “beauty, my love, handsome boy/beautiful girl/gorgeous partner” - messy kisses, lazy cuddles, dragging his fingers along your body feeling every dip and curve <3333 even if the affection seems half assed, his heart is devoted to you - offhandedly mentions you to his mum after dating for a year or so, to which her response is to slap him upside the head for not telling her sooner and then asking about grandbabies - you’re demo’s rock, if you asked him to go sober for you he probably would. he adores everything you do, words are unnecessary just look at his face

Heavy: - the stern and silent type, he generally doesn’t show public affection towards you unless it’s to protect you or to calm you down - in private he is the most gentle merc, holding you close to him and stroking your hair, playing with your fingers and mentally squealing at how cute and small they are compared to his, rubbing your back with his palm - he is a man of few words, but it’s pretty obvious that he is completely enamoured by you just from the way he touches you and how his gaze softens when he sees you - would plan the most personal dates, things that he KNOWS you would enjoy doing or seeing just so that he can see you smile up at him - “Любимая (darling), Дорогая (dear), Любовь моя (my love)” are the most common pet-names you’ll hear him calling you, he’s a more traditional guy - heavy is not a flirty man, he’s too blunt and would rather say what he means in the most direct way possible. thaaaat doesn’t mean he discourages you from flirting with him however - his family is extremely weary of you to begin with, heavy doesn’t talk about you much and so they’re going to be on guard (despite the fact that he could crush you with one hand if you did have malicious intent) - after a while though they warm up to you and consider you apart of the family- baking with you, teaching you how to hunt bears, making bearskin clothing, cooking the bear meat, talking about marriage and children, ANYTHING they can do to include you

Engineer: - it’s tough dating engie - he’s either working or passed out from the exhaustion of working, so you never really get quality time with him - he still takes every chance he can get to show you a good time, whether it’s cooking dinner with you or writing songs for you, he is much more romantic than he leads on - “darl, darlin, sweetheart, honeybee” sweet and simple names that roll off the tongue - the merc most inclined to shower with you. not even in a sexual way, he just enjoys the calm heat of the water and how intimate it is to share such a space - creates devices to make your life easier; need a new weapon? no need to buy a faulty mann co one, he can build you anything you want. need your very own kitchenette so you the other mercs can’t keep stealing your food? he was already drawing up the plans a week ago - the type of guy to bring you breakfast in bed every morning, putting on some slow romantic music and peppering your face with kisses to wake you up - always keeping tabs on you in battle, making sure that you’re safe and unharmed (despite knowing that you can respawn he still hates seeing you hurt) - the least jealous man to exsist, he is completely secure in himself and knows that if you didn’t wanna be with him, you simply wouldn’t

Medic: - another workaholic over here, it’s a mission getting him away from the operating table, or his desk right next to it - quiet, soft moments are few and far between, but when you do get them they are spent in each other’s arms lazying around the base - medic isn’t the romantic type and would likely just take you out to a traditional dinner or would want to teach you how to perform certain medical procedures on dates - don’t get him wrong! he loves you entirely, he just doesn’t see the need in being overly romantic with you, his way of showing love is letting archimedes anywhere near you or letting you lie on the operating table while he finishes up his paperwork - his pet names for you include “schatz (treasure), maus (mouse), meine taube (my dove)” - will pocket you 1000% and the other mercs HATE it - they have to strategise a way to keep you separated from eachother during battle - it wouldn’t matter if you were invincible or on the verge of death, this man would protect you to the ends of the earth. that being said he is also a massive shithead, will tickle you randomly or poke fun at you when you’re in a bad mood. its sweet. usually - in that middle ground of jealous but also chill af, he will only really become jelly if you’re flirting with someone else, but if they’re flirting with you he does not care unless you’re uncomfortable

Sniper: - simultaneously the most chill and anxiety ridden person on earth, the way he can go from 1 - 100 in five seconds should be studied - it takes him a VERY long time to actually warm up to you, let alone DATE you, so be wary that you’re in it for the long haul if you want this man - the first 6 months of dating are torturous for the both of you, he is far too nervous to touch you and instead of telling you this he will literally just ignore you, but once you start being physical he is one of the most touchy mercs - you will have to be the initiator in most situations until he becomes more comfortable with affection, this man has spent most of his adult life in a van isolated from society so its no kidding that he would be awkward with you (even though he adores you) - “love, babe, darling, honey” generic nicknames, if he’s feeling more comfortable he’ll use “sweetheart” or “roo” if you’re getting on his nerves - he doesn’t do dates. like sorry to burst your bubble but he would consider eating dinner together in his van or even just having a bath together a date - extremely jealous but will never admit it and it is VERY obvious. this could be said for most of his feelings though and reassurance is all he really needs - will spy on you using the scope on his gun during battles, killing enemies who might try to sneak up on you <3

Spy: - spy is by far the MOST romantic merc out of the bunch, will take you out on date nights every week, intimacy regularly, affectionate both in private and public, etc he is the dream - in saying that he is also a player, he needs a partner who can keep him feeling fresh, and someone who is just as cunning as he is - will intentionally try to make you jealous in order to get a gauge on the kind of person you are. he is entirely mind games babe and will play it off as if he doesn’t care about other people trying to flirt with you (he wants to kill them with his bare hands) - he is either going to be obsessed with you or mildly attached, there is no in between and it will be strikingly obvious which it is - often refers to you as “mon amour (my love), beau/belle (handsome/beautiful), mon bébé (my baby)” - most likely enemies to lovers, if you’re good at your job he sees you as competition, if you’re not he sees you as a nuisance, either way you’re initially a problem to him - but then he starts to wonder: why can’t he stop thinking about your skin? and the way you say his name? and the way you bashed that sniper’s brains out? he is smitten without even realising it - occasionally cloaks and follows you around to keep you safe from enemies, but mostly sticks to trying to win the match

Miss Pauling: - if you thought engie or medic were bad you have NO idea with pauling, she quite literally has one day off a YEAR - and you bet your ass she is spending it in bed all day cuddling with you - doesn’t use pet names, she’ll either call you by your last name, or some nickname variation of your first name. she called you “babe” once and cringed so hard she couldn’t even look at you - as much as she doesn’t want to put you in any danger, she LOVES bringing you along for missions. she gets to finish earlier and spend time with you, its a win-win situation - coming home from work and eating dinner with you is the highlight of her day, she could be completely exhausted and yet you bring life back into her with just a smile - yes you had to “fight” scout for her and there was absolutely no competition, he didn’t even know you two were together until she rolled her eyes and kissed you in front of him (he was surprisingly supportive) - she’s far too busy to be jealous, if someone was flirting with you she wouldn’t even notice until it escalated and the person was on the floor with you standing over them triumphantly - she dreams about being able to go on museum dates with you one day, but for now bubble baths, dinners, and morning kisses are all you both get <\3

[1970sgothfreak]

The forgotten Twin’s birthday pt3

E/c -eye colour

*a few days Later*

You and Jon were happier than ever, he was the perfect gentleman to you but…things with your family were worse. Your brothers and father haven’t been leaving you alone, let alone letting you go on patrol by yourself!

You understood that they were trying to make it up to you, you really did but the damage was done. You were walking down the stairs when you suddenly stopped on the final step seeing Jason standing at the entrance to the kitchen, you sighed and put on a brave face before walking past him.

“Morning Y/n/-“

You shoved passed him and began making yourself a cup of tea and some waffles, luckily all you had to do was warm them up so not much trouble. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Jason with a hurt look but then you looked back down at your plate, picking up the plate with the pancakes on it you tried to manoeuvre around Jason but he wasn’t letting you leave.

*sigh* “why will you not let me leave Todd” you asked trying to not look your second eldest brother in the eyes.

“Because we need to talk”

“No we don’t, you and the others made yourselves very clear when you forgot about me at many important event and forgot to come to my events!”

You said raising your voice a little. Okay now he was just trying to piss you off because he clearly thinks that he can just sweep this under the rug and act like you’re going to be his sister again.

You groaned and walked out the other entrance to the kitchen slowly making your way upstairs and back towards your shower, you were just about to open your bedroom door when you felt a hand grab your bicep.

Based on the hand size and shape you took a deep breath in before looking back at the person who grabbed you.

“What do you want Grayson” you asked annoyed that once again he’s trying to talk to you. He smiled at you and began pulling you down towards the bat cave.

‘Guess I’m not eating these waffles’ you though as he continued to drag you down towards the cave. Once you arrived you saw Jason, Tim and Damian there, you rolled your eyes and put your food down before folding your arms across your chest.

“What is this, I have more important things to be doing right now” you stated, with a hint of annoyance in your voice which made Tim wince. He shook it off before walking up to you and smiling, you kept the straight face that you had.

“This is our formal apology little sis…we are sorry that we missed your play, and I’m sorry I forgot all about our marathons!” He stated looking like a kicked puppy.

“I’m sorry for never going to the play as well…and I’m also sorry for never showing you my old tricks..” Dick said with a hint of disappointment in his voice

“And I’m sorry I never came to any of our lunch dates and left you all alone and probably embarrassed” Jason mumbled

You looked towards Damian who kept his head down, you knew he was too proud of himself to apologise but you also knew your twin…he was never this quite. He walked up to you and…hugged you? Okay now you were confused.

“My sister…I wish to also apologise, ever since father took us in I haven’t spent a moment of time with you, nor have I participated in any twin activities with you and for that I’m sorry” he said voice muffled from your jumper but you understood it.

They’re…sorry?

They’re sorry?!?!

THEY FORGOT YOU, ACTED LIKE YOU WERE NEVER THEIR SISTER AND ALL THEY SAY IS SORRY?!?!

You pulled Damian away from you, making him stare into your soulless E/c eyes. He and the others tense up a little at your soulless glare. You pick up your place of now cold waffles and began heading back upstairs ignoring them asking where you were going.

“Dad also wants you to know he’s sorry!” Tim shouted, hoping that would stop you and it did but not for the reason they thought.

You turned back to face and muttered

“He’s sorry that he got caught being a shitty father, not because he feels guilty”

Before turning back and heading up the stairs, he wants to ignore you and then all of a sudden pretend it’s alright then you were going to ignore him and the rest of the boys until they felt your pain too.

A/N: HI SO SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER BUT IM GOING TO NEED SOME HELP WITH PART 4 GIMMIE SOME IDEAS :D

Taglist:

@killerqueenduck

@tweetybomb

@knoxx-seresinbradshaw

@venomsvl

@snowcatlove

@sem-blog245

@vanessa-boo

@ladyagagaslefttoe

@burnaccsblog

@odinswarriorvalkyrie

[bambiimutt]

I HAVE ANOTHER! Ur hcs are so good bro omg they are so well written 😭❤️ could I have father figure Tim to the edgy teens, but angst?

like for examples: the teen finds Tim having a panic attack and tries to comfort him even though they are bad at comforting, Tim finds out the teen is struggling with a lot, or maybe they have an argument or maybe the teen goes missing for a long time and finally the police finds them, etc👀

SORRY I love angst

Father figure Masky/Tim and teen troubles.

Helping Dad!Tim with understanding you, some angst, he lashes out,just a poor tired man trying to help his kid.

TW!! None I don’t think!

also this songs I feel goes with this.. just the vibes of it.. it really helped to write!

Tim huffed out as his hands used the spatula to stir the food in the pot for the dinner he’d plan to have. You promised him you’d have some father/kid time but as long as you got to go out with your friends. But that was five hours ago and you still have yet to be back.. you haven’t even messaged him. His head is hung low as he ate his food, your plate on the opposite end of the table yet your presence wasn’t there. He shouldn’t be so upset.. though he kinda bailed on for two weeks to do shit that he shouldn’t be doing.. so he can’t be mad at you but still he felt like shit. You promised him; but he still gives you your space and lets you come home whenever.

The trailer is quiet, the lights are dim within the living room as you step in, melting snow falling off of your boots as you slide them off. Your fingers rub through your coloured hair as you peek your head to look around where you could see. “Dad?” You called out maybe a bit too loudly for the quiet home that absorbed you. Your eyes still peered around as you fidget with the cold piercing on your lip, the further you walked into the trailer the more your nose picked up the smell of food. Kraft dinner. Your favourite. He usually makes this when.. ah shit. You completely forgot. You were meant to spend the day with him but you wanted to see your friends.

You quietly ate, figuring Tim had probably gone somewhere. It was cold yet you still ate it, it was the least you could do. Your head rest back in the old kitchen chair, your arms hugging your body around your flannel, damp jeans clinging to your legs due to the snow. It was. A little too quiet.

“Where were you.” You jump softly at the sudden voice, causing you to look up and see Tim walking towards the kitchen, pj pants and a white shirt. He looked like he hadn’t slept. He looked frantic but angry all at the same time. His hands reached for the cupboards, slamming them as he poured himself coffee, cringing at the gross taste. You look around, fingernails picking at the seems of your ripped jeans. “Out.” Was all you got out. You knew where this was going. Another lecture. “And where exactly is out.” He spoke back, keeping that same angered tone. He hadn’t said it like a question but more of a statement for you to answer. You swallow. “With friends.” He breathed in before looking at you “yknow we were supposed to have our day today right? I planned everything out and you bail on me. I was okay with it for the first 4 hours but it’s now..” he looks to the clock on the stove. “Four in the morning. Do you know how worried I’ve been?!” He slams down his cup causing you to jolt again. The snow almost seems to fall more aggressively now. Something you picked up on as you stared out of the kitchen window to avoid eye contact. Funny how beautiful it could be but such angered moments could make things so sicking. The house suddenly seemed foul to you, the fairy lights you helped him put up suddenly became too bright, the food in your stomach suddenly twisted, the anger bubbled.. and bubbled. “Yeah well maybe if you never bailed on me, leave me for weeks on end without knowing where you go, I wouldn’t do this shit. Maybe I’d actually spend more time with you! I don’t even know who you are anymore!.” You finally stand, the strong legs that pushed you up feel shaky all of a sudden. That hurt. That.. tugged his chest in ways he didn’t like. Damn you. Damn you for making him feel what a father feels when they know they’ve failed. “That’s completely different-“

It’s not long before you’re grabbing your patched up coat and trying to rush out of the trailer door. But before you do, you look back. “Don’t say it. ‘I’m your father, it’s different’ news fucking flash Tim. You aren’t my dad. For a while I thought you were.. but you are exactly like him!” Oh dear.. he watches wide eyed as you walk out for house, door slammed behind you and your body running through the deep snow. He should be running after you, what is he doing just standing there?

The bench was. Not comfortable. The snow you wiped off of it had slowly started to cover the bench once more with new snow. Watching your breath turn into to fog put you into a trance, your body shivering as you watched it swirl within the wind. It wasn’t long before there was sirens and a man running towards you with two cops behind him. Arms immediately wrap around you, a blanket placed on your shoulders as the man helps you up. When your eyes flicker up, you see him. It’s Tim. Frantically helping you back to the car, thanking the cops behind him. Once he was in the car that silence itched back again. You stared out of the frosted window. “I shouldn’t have said what I said..” you state.

“It’s okay.” You both stare out of the window, Tim cranking the heat when he notices you shiver. “Do you hate me.” You question, your cracked lips softly frowning as you continue to stare, unblinking. It was quiet as he looks down, eyes closed. “No. No I don’t hate you kiddo.” You swallow before looking at him. “You’re still my dad.” He lets out a soft chuckle “still your dad.” You smile gently, your body finally warming up. “And you’re nothing like him.” His smile softly fades before looking back towards the window and starting up the car. “I should be the one comforting you, not the other way around” he covers it up with a laugh once more. There was an awkward silence for a moment. “Don’t do that again.” Tim speaks up. There’s a hint of a shaky tone, almost like he was tearing up but you wouldn’t pry. You understood why he was upset. “I won’t..”

“Or I’ll kick your ass” he laughs through his shaky voice and looks at you for a moment “love ya kid” he ruffles your hair before placing his hand back to the steering wheel and driving you both back home.

[harryistheonlyoneforme]

Can’t Get You Off My Mind*

pairing: dadsbestfriend harry x reader

warnings:smut, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk

summary: with YN’s mother out of town for the weekend, and most likely Harry, YN has decided to get a little wild. what she doesn’t know is that she should check her sources before inviting people into her home.

~

Harry stands in shock at the bottom of the stairs, anger bubbling in his veins as he sees YN straddling some guy with her face in his chest, grinding against him. His left hand is beneath her shirt, groping her breast and tweaking her nipple. The two of them jump at the sound of a throat being cleared, YN immediately jumping off of the guy.

“YN, can I talk to you for a moment? Alone?” Harry grits, his arms folded as he approaches YN and some guy she’d brought home. He truly doesn’t even remember his name, and he sure as hell doesn’t plan to learn it.

She looks at the guy guiltily, sighing in disappointment. “I think you should leave,” she tells him, watching him hurriedly run from the house, his hand over his very obvious boner from having such a beautiful girl on top of him.

The second the door clicks shut, Harry is turning to YN in anger. “What the fuck was that?” he grits out, watching her struggle to find the words to explain herself. “What, you think that because I’m ‘out of town’ that you can invite anyone you like into my home? You think you can be a slut on the couch that I bought?“ he demands, watching her shake her head.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” she replies, not knowing how she’s going to get out of this one.

“You’re damn right you weren’t thinking,” he laughs darkly, unbuckling his belt. “Get over here and get on your knees. You’re in trouble,” he tells her, watching her scramble to obey.

She needs no further instruction, placing her hands behind her back and wrapping her lips around his cock before sucking on the head lightly. He hisses at the feeling, throwing his head back as she flicks her tongue over his slit gently.

“Just like that. See, I knew you could be a good girl,” he teases, grabbing the back of her head to push her all the way down his cock. She chokes for a second but then she relaxes, all of his prior training coming into play. For a moment she forgets to breathe, so he pulls out, letting her get some air.

She chokes for a few seconds before she’s wiping the saliva from her chin and neck. “Make sure you breathe through your nose,” he reminds her, waiting for her nod of recognition before he’s sliding his cock into her warm mouth once more, holding her there.

He feels her throat contract and release him, making him moan and look down at her. The sight makes his cock twitch right then; he sees tears streaming down her face as he fucks her throat, mascara staining beneath her eyes. Her eyes are locked on him, making him moan as his orgasm approaches.

Fuck, she looks so pretty for him, on her knees with tears on her face. He would have her down there all day, every day if he could. The thought of her keeping his cock warm with her mouth has him spiralling, sending him over the edge with a sharp thrust as he cums down her throat.

When he’s done, he’s pulling out and rubbing his hand up and down her back as she coughs from the feeling. “Good girl, did so well for me,” he praises, letting her catch her breath. The second she’s recovered, he’s grabbing her shoulders and harshly pulling her up. “Don’t think you’re off the hook, though. You’re not getting off easy tonight,” he warns her, watching her nod.

Making his way to the couch, he sits down and motions for her to come over to him. She stands in front of him, awaiting instruction. “Take all of your clothes off and get over my knee. I don’t want to have to tel you again,” he demands, YN moving quickly and taking off her tight, short dress.

When she’s over his knee, he smiles in satisfaction at her compliance. “I’m going to spank y’now,” he tells her, running a hand over her ass. “What are your colours?” he questions, needing to know if she’s in the right state of mind for this.

“Green, yellow, and red,” she replies obediently, making him hum at her words.

“Good. And what colour are you now?”

“Green,” she responds, and he nods, wasting no time before landing a sharp smack onto her ass. She cries out quietly, squirming at the slight pain before he’s soothing the area with his hand.

He repeats the action on each cheek multiple times, stopping at 30. By the time he’s done, she’s sniffling quietly and her eyes are glossy, Harry helping her sit up onto her heels to look at him.

“All done now, baby. What’s your colour?“ he asks her gently, knowing it was a lot. When she responds with yellow, he’s sighing in sympathy. “Alright, won’t punish you anymore. Are you ready for bed?” he asks, confused when she shakes her head.

“No, could we just relax a bit, maybe y’can play with me until I calm down?”

“Of course, what do you want me to do?”

“Can y’just eat me out or something maybe?” she questions timidly, making him smile softly at her.

“Of course, cmon. Let’s get you in the bed, hm?” he suggests, watching her nod eagerly. The two stand from the couch and make their way upstairs, Harry trailing closely behind YN.

She excitedly jumps onto the bed, immediately getting on her back. A small laugh leaves her as she hears Harry mumble something about her being a ‘greedy little brat’. Before he climbs onto the bed, he asks her one more question.

“Do you want one of your toys or just m’mouth?” to which she replies, “I just need you.”

The words have him groaning underneath his breath, making his way to the bed before he climbs on, spreading her legs as he gets comfortable.

He looks to her for confirmation before diving in, licking and sucking at her as she whines above him. With each swipe of his tongue, her orgasm is inching closer and closer, and her mind is foggy with the way he can break her down in just seconds.

When he repositions himself to slide a finger into her, though, her eyes are squeezed shut and her hands are flying to grip onto his hair. He immediately find her g-spot, hooking his fingertip on and stimulating it to the same pace he’s working on her clit.

The slight sting of her hands in his hair makes him groan into her, the vibrations sending her over the edge with a sharp intake of air, her legs shaking and her back arched as he stimulates her through it. He keeps at it until she’s arching away in overstimulation, propping up onto his knees.

“Do you think you can take me tonight or should we get cleaned up and ready for bed?” he asks, watching her closely.

“No, no. Need you to fuck me please,” she begs, making him chuckle.

“Alright, alright,” he responds, grabbing a condom from the bedside drawer. “On y’side, facing the door,” he demands, and she’s instantly turning, her heart beating in anticipation as he slips behind her once he has the condom on.

Wasting no time, he lines his cock up with her dripping hole, sliding in slowly before resting there for a moment.

“Oh,” she gasps out, her jaw dropped as she can feel him in her stomach. “Right there,” she confirms, nodding her head. He laughs darkly behind her, reaching his dominant hand up to wrap it around her throat, pressing down on the spot that makes her head floaty.

That combined with his brutal thrusts has her in literal heaven, and with how wrecked she is for him, she’s already about to cum. He can sense it, squeezing even harder on the pressure point before leaning up to her ear.

“Did he ever fuck you like this?” he questions, thrusting so hard that her body flies forward with every thrust just for him to yank her back onto him.

“I- I never fucked him,” she manages to get out, her hands fisting the sheets as he wrecks her. With each thrust, the tip of his cock is hitting her g-spot dead on, making her squeeze her thighs together and push her add back onto him, chasing her orgasm.

“Yeah, I bet you didn’t,” he spits, doubling his efforts and smirking as she cries out even louder. “Because you know i’ve ruined this cunt for anyone else,” he decides, thrusting as deep as he can go one last time, feeling her lock down on him.

“That’s it, cream on my cock,” he moans, his face scrunching up as his orgasm takes over as well, a grunt leaving him as he fills the condom.

He stays inside her, buried to the hilt until the both of them can breathe normally, and then he’s pulling out gently and climbing up to dispose of the condom. Making his way back over to the fucked out girl, he presses a kiss to her forehead. “Cmon, let’s get you cleaned up.”

~

[whisperiin]

hello!! do you have any domestic gray ravens hcs with skk reader? ✨✨

oh this is soooo ... i love this so much this is so cute ... well i definitely do now!!!! i think i got a little carried away so it got super long i'm sorry ... but i hope you enjoy!!

domestic gray ravens

content warnings: none

➸ It's common knowledge how devoted LUCIA is to Gray Raven, and this is true even in relative moments of peace between missions, too. She's a little awkward with it, but she wears her heart on her sleeve — just like how she wears the different scarves she bought in each of your favourite colours. It's actually really easy for her thoughts to return to you. Maybe she passed by a garden and got reminded of the plants Liv keeps, or saw a little malfunctioning robot and thought that Lee would be able to fix it in ten seconds flat, or caught a whiff of that food you said was your favourite — should she maybe get some for you...?

➸ She loves just spending time with everyone. Team dinners are a must for her! But... just let Liv handle the cooking. Lucia also seems like the type to make sure that you, Liv, and Lee all get to go to bed safe and sound, even if you haven't been doing anything except slacking off in the lounge — she'll walk everyone back to their rooms, or at the very least, ask you to send her a little message as soon as you get back.

➸ LEE has similar habits too, but he's just a little more awkward in showing he cares — not that he would ever admit as such. Just like Lucia, he feels just a bit more secure seeing for himself that you got back to your room unscathed. He also prides himself on being perceptive, and he has a tendency to fix problems you or the others might have before you notice them. Have you had trouble waking up lately? No worries, the little robot he gave you now alarms twice as loud!

➸ Lee also made it a point to remember your routines. He has a habit of scolding you if you stay up later than usual, or sighing in that disappointed way he does if you forget to eat a meal. He'll usually go off on some tangent about how a Commandant should be more disciplined than that, but if he's being honest, he just wants to make sure you're healthy. Humans are fragile compared to constructs, he would often say to you, and to Liv and Lucia, We need to maintain our performance, don't we? But that doesn't explain how involved he gets even in little things like double checking everyone's weapons to make sure they're absolutely fine, or even just walking just a bit closer to you if he sees you're uncomfortable or uneasy in any way.

➸ Caring for everyone almost comes as second nature to LIV, even if you or the others would fuss over how she has to care for herself, too. Honestly, she just loves when she's able to help you all in some way — the smiles on your faces and your heartfelt thanks are enough to put a spring in her step for a good while. She also likes messaging everyone little good morning or good night greetings, just to say hello or wish you sweet dreams even if she's already done so in person. Aside from that, she's usually the first to notice when one of you is upset. Maybe your shoulders are a bit more tense than normal, or you're glaring unusually hard at a random spot on the floor. At times like these, she'll gently pluck whatever you might have in your hands away, or lightly put a hand on your shoulder, and insist you get some rest with a smile — she'll even get you something warm to drink to calm you down; how about that?

➸ Liv has memorised everyone's favourite things by now, like whether you prefer coffee or tea or neither, which table at the cafe you all tend to sit at, what kind of colours everyone liles to wear when theyre not in those stiff uniforms. She also has a habit of picking up a few extra things for everyone while she's out and about — Lucia, didn't you mention you were looking at this frog plushie in the mall? Lee, you needed an extra set of tools, right? They had your favourite in stock again, Commandant, you don't mind that I got you some, do you?

[kyoghurts]

LA VIE EN ROSE — mash burnedead village au! mini series written by. @kyoghurts : idea full credits to. @seneon

❀𖥨᩠ׄ݁ mash thinks you’re beautiful. he will show this to you in his own, beautiful way. a flower in his hands, and his heart encased in yours.

IN WHICH : mash brings a flower everytime he visits you, one who’s selling pastries in another village, each visits come with different flowers. ( CHP I. )

CONTENT : just mash being his awkward self. mentions of greek mythology. most of this chapter is just me showcasing the nature of this au; the slowburn, pure and teenage sweetheart behavior and their first time having an object of affection, the budding start of a friendship. also displays of familial love and The Siblings™

la vie en rose masterlist ; PRELUDE ← CHP i. → CHP ii.

for someone who wants peace at all cost, mash always leaves a distinct trail of trouble wherever he goes (and all of them are unintentional.)

when lance accompanied him in search of a flower shop, a huge wave of regret start to drown his being, like pouring frigid cold water to his skin that elicits an uncomfortable shiver.

“mash, no, you can’t take all those flowers” his arms tug at the end of his shirt with force when his friend starts to pull too many variations in his hands, and he doesn’t even have the energy to question how it all fits to his grasp, with no limit to his impulsive snatching. “wait- be gentle with those sweet peas!”

lance could see the colours of the cashier’s face draining at an alarming speed, he looks like he wants to intervene but can’t. paralysed to the ways his dumbass of a friend treats the flowers.

after a few reprimands and scoldings, along with manpower to put mash in place, they finally get kicked out of the shop. the ring of the bell knocking against the entrance door echoes in the air like defeat, he slumps and murmurs “sorry, i got carried away”

lance can only muster up a sigh. “at least you got one”

mash promptly lifts the remaining flower in his hand, good thing he caught it in the last minute, and it was actually the first that pulled his attention the moment they entered prior, the same feeling when he sets on the white amaryllis flourishes, the beating of his chest quietly whispers him to cherish it, both the flower and the feeling.

“do all flowers…” he starts musing as they walk. “have meaning of their own?”

“yes. i’m no expert, though” lance then points towards the one he’s holding. “i can’t say for sure what that particularly means, too”

“we can ask the others.”

the blue haired nods, although reluctant to ask, he does so with his usual tone of nonchalance. “why do you want to know, though?”

mash slows his pace, just one step at a time, his eyes still locked on the flower. ‘for a mere thing, he gets all contemplative’ but he isn’t judging, its more of a faint amusement written on his face, he stays quiet until mash speaks.

“i get the feeling you don’t just give something like this to someone without knowledge. it’s like working out without a goal in the end.”

a pause, tongue-tied, not expecting him to give them so much thought. “..true.”

“i’m really sorry about earlier. i promise i won’t do it again.”

mash is a lot of things, being a man of his words are one of them.

lance mumbles something of accord before they stride off towards their friends.

“what is that? it looks edible.”

“dot what the hell.”

it’s summer afternoon, meaning time can either run slow or fast depending on the activities spent in these hours, though most days mash and his friends dread over the heat and boredom (a horrible combination, all of them complains) as they try to squeeze some fun in between.

today though, mash suggesting they’d lounge in their personal tree house as they help him figure out some flower’s name and background, as if investigating a mysterious case, proves that the afternoon might just be a little more productive than usual.

dot’s laugh rumble through the open, he leans against the wall as he sits down cross legged. finn, sitting beside dot, takes the flower from mash where he lays down and limbs spreading out like a starfish, all comfortable and still. finn briefly inspects it while dot tilts his head, curious.

“this is,” to be honest, all of them are just as clueless as mash is, but finn thanks himself for having even just a pinch of memory with the flower book he once read at a small library, so he says with a grin, “a white anemone!”

the red haired lets out a soft “ohhh.” amused as he mutters, “still looks edible.”

finn winces from the awful joke brought twice. “i say go for it,” lance interjects, asserting himself with his arms crossed. he’s leaning against the doorframe one foot carrying the weight of the other, the distance between them is safe as he taunts dot, who’s very close to shaving his head, glaring, “you might as well digest all the toxic of this world and i wouldn’t bat an eye if you start choking to death.”

dot retorts, “why don’t you eat this instead and see if anyone would ca-”

“guys!!” the booming sound of lemon’s voice out of nowhere has lance falling off his feet like a frightened hamster. he gets up just as quickly. “i saw a very cute cat just now.” she jumps in excitement, adrenaline coursing between her veins as she smiles with quivering anticipation. she probably ran all the way here, considering how she slightly pants and heaves.

as if her energy easily spreads within the circle, dot immediately rushes to her,“where?!”she insists as she pulls his wrist and rushes out, three of the remaining all clueless. lance languidly follows with a sigh, and finn scratches his cheek from their antics.

seems like a productive afternoon alright.

finn’s the last one to leave, perhaps? well, mash doesn’t look like he’ll move anytime soon. he asks him, still splayed on the floor, “are you staying?” as he’s about to descend to the stairs. it takes a few pause of silence before he sees him shake his head. something about this hesitant nature of mash gives finn the impression that his friend is thinking about you, and him mumbling under his breath, ‘heading to the bakery soon’ kind of confirms it.

he doesn’t fully comprehend it himself, but he nods regardless. it’s a crush, isn’t it? or probably just a fleeting infatuation. he’s not sure, but he has to admit that mash is so genuine and upfront in his approach, giving you a flower on the second time you both just met? considering the white anemone back in his grasp as it rests on his chest with his hands above it, he’ll continue greeting you like this?

‘i’d cry if someone gifts me flowers like that,’ finn thinks to himself as he follows lance, dot, and lemon as their figure gradually blurs in the distance, walking without haste. ‘it’s sweet.’

“how is it?” you ask, a little breathy and more tense than you’d like to admit.

you attempt to layer your worries with self-reassuring stillness, as if to act cooler in front of your younger sister. instead of trying to gauge out her expression during the assessment of your baking-in-progress session, you busy your hands placing each doughnut parallel to each other on the tray, lining them to perfection.

“its good!” lei, your sister, finally exclaims. putting a stop to the antsy feeling building up inside you, now dispersed and fading outwards. you let out a soft exhale in relief.

“yeah?”

she nods, enthusiastic, “its sweet, just the way i like it!” this makes you want to pat yourself on the back, because lei has a similar sweet tooth to that of grandma, meaning if she likes it, she’ll most likely feel the same as well.

a chuckle starts to bubble from your throat as you ruffle her hair too roughly on purpose, dishevelling it in the process. she cries out, “uaghhh, devinn! stop that!” and pushes your hand away, pouting, and that only gives you more reasons to mess with her. things turn chaotic in the kitchen soon after.

her hand takes a fistful of your hair and mirrors your action when grandma inquisitively peeks, “what’s going on here?” her tone is fond, doting even. you hear her low, quiet giggle as she makes her way towards you and lei. “your hair’s not being ruined by devin again now is it?”

you shove her away and smile, playfulness curling around the edges of your lips, reaching up to the crinkle of your eyes. “definitely.”

lei groans out loud, you choose to ignore her as grandma eyes the pastry on the tray. and that squirmy feeling starts to simmer in your stomach once again.

you don’t notice yourself holding your breath once she takes a bite. immediately your gaze drift to her eyes, the one that’s most expressive out of every features.

you love seeing the light that glints from it, you love grandma just as much as you love baking.

and when her eyes do light up, everything else seem to glow of happiness.

“this is good, devi!”

still, your sister is undoubtedly interested in today’s session as she stands beside you, a look of curiosity as she sees how grandma commends your work. so you push down your giddiness back to the ends of your stomach and act more calm, just to save yourself the embarrassment. lei could snitch you to your other siblings, and they wouldn’t let you off until they chew you with their brutal teasing to bits.

you like to act tough, you’ve been doing it since the day your siblings developed a sense of purpose to bully you every waking moment. (which seemed to backfire every now and then, you hope this particular moment doesn’t though)

you don’t need to wear it like a mask for too long. lei’s still a kid, no older than 7, which means that afternoon’s her favourite time to escape the house and run around with her friends outside until curfew rolls in. and grandma knows this all too well.

“i noticed amara waiting for you with her doll outside, dear.” grandma looks at you rather than lei. when she gapes in realisation, she starts bolting for the door and shout so loud “i’m coming amara!! wait for me!!” that both you and grandma suddenly burst into snickers.

as if its natural, you come to her side and ask “too sweet, wasn’t it?”

your grandma bumps her hips with yours in affection, sliding in as she takes another bite of your doughnut and lets out a satisfying hmmm you’ve ever heard, shaking her head that serves an answer to your question.

“you’ve improved a lot ever since you told me you wanted to take over.”

“i’m serious about this.”

“that i know,” she pinches your cheek. “i know you’re a serious person, dear. but,”

she swallows and places down her food as she holds both of your hand and smiles warmly, as warm as butter toast with creamy coffee on a usual sunday, the one that puts your head into wandering thoughts of introspection and comfort. her voice is soothing, you almost didn’t catch what she’s trying to tell you.

“i want you to loosen up a bit, okay? you don’t have to always tend to this old bakery of ours. you have other hobbies like reading or writing, but you can go out there with your friends or just have a little breather.”

you want to protest. you’re sure it’s written all over your face, because she continues, “everything should be in balance and moderation, devin. i want you to have fun out there.” she grips your hand a little more tightly, with creased brows of determination. “and you don’t try, you must.”

“granny…”

“you know. when i was your age i used to-”

“okay! okay!” you end up giving in, not wanting to sit through another story of your grandma’s past for the nth time. you grin in reassurance. “i will. thanks.”

“you will.” she repeats, “you make sure you stick to your promises.”

“when have i ever broke them my dear granny.” you rub your thumb against her knuckles, feeling the lines of wrinkles and bones, time is etched in every parts of her, a figure of love and pureness despite everything, you want to cherish these minutes with her, so much that you feel reluctant to leave her side even for a short while.

but at the same time, you’re too soft-hearted for her to disregard her wishes, despite it being insignificant for you, and making promises you can’t keep burns your tongue in a bad kind of way, like acid and bitter taste combined.

she settles for an exhale and gently drop your hands. “i just don’t want you to have regrets.”

you’re still young. you can practically hear her thoughts, maybe because she sees herself in you, maybe because your serious nature is nothing new to the bloodline, and that maybe she wants you to take on the role of change.

none of which you can make a promise of.

however, you do know you can trust yourself to leave the house whenever. yeah, you’re going to start doing that by tomorrow then.

“oh, mash! good to see ya!”

mash stiffly nods, muttering “devin, good to see you too.”

it’s certainly a trait of yours, but you quickly read the atmosphere, and you don’t have to make it more awkward than it already is. so you tone down your excitement, another trait of yours with which you’ve mastered throughout the years. “when you said you’ll drop by again, i didn’t think it’d be today.”

in less than a minute, you ready the cream puffs (that you reserved for mash in secret) even before he says it. he doesn’t smile, but you like the way his eyes light up like a child receiving his favourite thing in the world, reminds you a lot of your own self when you’re given the chance to dirty your kitchen in god awful amounts of flour and mess.

he takes it from your hands and he pays and then usually this is the part where you bid someone goodbye. but something in his posture, tense and rigid but expression full of expecting, tells you he that he has more to say than simply walk out at this moment.

you wait for him to start, but immediately regret falls upon your face once you grant him the chance to wander about his thoughts, and he seemed lost already. staring at you the same way he did the first time.

after a few seconds pass of awkward staring and of what felt like agonising minutes, you decide to proceed through the conversation. “you really do love creampuffs. may i ask why?” you lean over the counter, your arms crossed and a gentle smile forming your lips.

he blinks, quickly averting eye contact. “m-me? uhm.” you see his hands start fiddling the ends of his fingertips. “no particular reason. it’s just my favourite.”

you hum, genuine curiosity evident in your tone. “just like that?”

it makes mash come to an ease slowly, treacle and sweet, as he nods. “just like that.”

“…i see.”

“do you also have a favourite?”

“lots of favourites, yeah.”

“you can’t choose one?”

“well. i do. but then if i ate it all the time, it might lose it’s appealing flavour.”

he blinks, and for a moment he stays quiet.

“..that’s not a favourite.”

“oh?”

you tilt your head in question.

“i think that, no matter the time or place or how frequent you eat it, if you really like it, the taste will never change.” he expresses his opinion in a way that brings you to a pause, lets you question as though it holds importance to know if you really have a favourite or not.

well, do you? and if you could eat it as frequently as mash does with his creampuffs, would you say that it’ll never grow out of you?

“i uh, didn’t think it that way. maybe i have a favourite, orrr maybe i don’t. who knows?”

“will you tell me what it is if you found one some day?”

“you really wanna know?”

“yeah, it’s why i’m asking.”

“sure. we can go pick up this topic again once i have.”

he opens his paper bag full of creampuffs and fishes out one as he takes a bite, his expression melting into softness as he does. seeing this does something to you, so inexplicable that you can’t find a reason as to why a small grin makes its way to your lips.

then his munching stops, as if he remembered something. “what’s wrong?”

in one go he swallows the whole thing before gently patting his hands together, wiping off the crumbs and a cold sweat breaks through your temple. no, what the heck? how could someone do that- you rub your eyes to see if you’re not mistaken, surely enough, he’s already packing his paper bag into his tote bag—this, you find new, you didn’t expect him to be using this sorts considering that he only buys an amount that suffices the hand to carry. is he or has he gone to the market beforehand?—he’s pulling something out from it and then you’re gaping even more because he’s giving you yet another flower like last time.

“here. it’s uh…uhm..yeah, it’s for you.”

you stare at it in awe, breathless as you say. “a white anemone.”

mash nods wordlessly, even though he knows you can’t see him. but you do, because you briefly flash a beaming smile at him before he could prepare his heart, you chuckle, “it’s so pretty!”

you turn to caress its petals, feel its collar of leaves and the slight bend of stem. “is this a mounthelm thing? you greet someone with flowers?” your question tumbles out of your mouth supposedly to be taken as a joke, or a rhetorical one. mash stutters a no, and you can’t wrap your head around this information. so you laugh for the sake of it, a laugh that expresses your amusement and happiness. “thank you regardless.”

“you’re welcome.” he seems happy, not from the facial features that which he lacks, but from the ambience itself. you can’t place a finger on it, but mash can be easy to read without relying on the obvious.

maybe it’s just a you thing, though.

you’re satisfied with your point either way.

“there’s a story for this pretty thing right here.” you slightly wave the flower, and you suddenly realise what you just said too late as you quickly follow “i-if you’re not in a hurry! sorry, i might actually bore you and you have other things to do-”

“i’m all ears.” he hasn’t moved from his position, still giving you his undivided attention. “i don’t have anything to do for today, besides, i’m interested.”

you stop breathing, the air stuck to your throat. “really?”

he nods. “tell me more.”

“uhh, okay.” you smile, awkward lines tied around the stroke of your lips. “white anemones vary in their symbolic meaning, for me, this flower reminds me of the word ‘renewal’, ‘purity’ or ‘innocence’ because of its color, and ‘wholesome love’ if we’re being romantic.”

“in greek mythology, anemone flowers were sacred to aphrodite.”

“to who?”

“aphrodite, or venus in her roman goddess counterpart, she’s the goddess of love and beauty.”

“there are many versions to go about this, but aphrodite met a young man named adonis and fell in love. while they were together, the sun was bright and the soil were kind to the people, flowers were blossoming and even the fruits were ripe. actually, another goddess fell in love with adonis too, and she didn’t want to give up on him so easily.”

“in other words, adonis had chicks?”

you wheeze, not expecting him to interject. “he was said to be handsome among many. anyway…”

“this goddess, persephone, would spend time with adonis in autumn and winter; spring and summer with aphrodite. but one unfortunate day, he tracked down a wild and mighty boar. aphrodite wasn’t with him, he hurled his spear but only ended up wounding the boar. he ran away, alas, the boar quickly caught up to him and killed him with its great tusks.”

a gasp elicits from his lips “he didn’t survive…” he muttered under his breath, full of musings with undertones of sadness.

“he didn’t, and aphrodite was devastated when she heard his cries high over the earth. she loved & grieved him so much that she turned his blood into a dark red flower, the same color as adonis’ blood, and anemones were then born.”

“oooh..” his lips form in a small ‘o’, the fascination in his wide eyes are hard to miss.

you laugh, sheepish. “i wanted to keep it short and as summarised as possible. if there’s any question you like to ask or to clear any confusion, i’d.. be happy to fill you in.”

“you’re a great storyteller.”

the compliment catches you off guard, you smile that reflects the sun behind mash, gleaming until it reaches your eyes. “thank you, mash.”

the sun has yet to bid the sky farewell when the two of you are relentlessly still conversing about..from favourite food to greek origins of the flower then to a little bit about your perspectives on the story. and honestly, you haven’t had any type of long conversations like these in a long while, the doughnut you made earlier ago is now a remnant and fleeting taste residing on the roof of your tongue, your duties long forgotten as you spend the remaining afternoon with mash.

it’s only when you notice the time when the sun finally leaves a trail of blazing orange as some street lamps start to blink into existence, and you have never felt embarrassment this heavy in a long while, too. “ah.. it’s nearing late.” you mumble, dumbfounded. he blinks at you only to flinch at the realisation as well.

“i’m so sorry.” he bows, his droopy expression turning prominent, “i didn’t mean to take up so much of your time, but i need to go now. pops will be worried at home.”

“no- i should be the one apologising!” your hands frantically move in front of you, finding the bow unnecessary, when he stands upright and makes eye contact with you, you see the same shyness flashing across his gaze. “g-go! your father’s probably worried sick now. see you again, mash!”

he stuffs a creampuff before waving at you, “see you, devin” briskly walking ahead as you crane forward from the counter, watching him as you wave back.

when he turns and blurs through the distance, you crouched in the corner of a wall, your hand covers the lower half of your face, feeling yourself warm. “i did not just rambled to a guy i recently just met-”

“but you did!”

“gah!”

when you look up, the devils themselves had emerged in probably the worst and perfect time to torment you. your three siblings ready to bombard you with questions through their mischievous eyes and ruthless mouths.

you stand up to your feet, their heads quickly lifting as they held you in captive of their intense gazes. you defend yourself as firmly as you can, “it’s not what you think it is.”

nikol devilishly grins, “you always say that.”

“since when ?!”

“they’re finally coming out of their shell~”

you cringe at the three of them. lei being the only one partially confused and partially happy despite not knowing what’s going on. honestly, why do you even try to explain.

johann’s snickering makes you sigh out of exhaustion, she steps closer, invading your space completely with her arms now wrapped around you. she’s always been affectionate, her smile resembling a lot to grandma’s. “who is he, devin?”

“he’s not just some stranger now is he?” nikol wriggles his brow implicitly, and you nearly want to smack his head when johann pulls you tighter, you returned the hug instead.

you take your time answering, not minding the silence of an after-shock of everything that happened so far, trying to take them all in. after a few moments, you admit, “you’re right.”

the white anemone rests on the counter, placed near your book. a friend beside a friend, purity in its sleep.

you spare it a glance, for the first time, you want it to stay awake and alive for as long as possible. “his name is mash burnedead, and he’s a friend of mine." a smile of endearment ghosts around your lips, "yeah, that sounds about right.”

BONUS:

"what took you so long???"

"...i forgot the cheese.."

"what??????"

TAGLIST : @seneon @luvmequmi @ansbobcar @pompompuriina (its open btw! just send an ask and i'll add u)

NOTES : oh my GOD this took forever bro i cant believe i had a hard time writing this HAHJAHJHWJHWJHA THE OUTLINES I MADE NEVER SAT WELL WITH ME AND THE REVISIONS WERE BRUTAL but im sure there's still a bunch of errors stuck in between :/ anyway, sorry for the long excruciating wait. the big sigh i let out when i finished is immense, the later chaps won't be as difficult to write as this one trust!!

© kyoghurts. 2024 ୨୧ la vie en rose. please do not repost !

[starry-eyesanddaydreams]

Prompt 12 of @deepperplexity 's Rickmas 2023

December 12: Giver of Gifts

Lionel Shabandar x Reader

Lionel likes so to shower his partner with expensive gifts, but some out of line gossip makes his partner self-conscious.

(Again, taking a chance with something new and an underrated character)

___________________________________________________________

Lionel Shabandar was a man with a reputation for being an ice-cold bastard. But you knew a different side to him. You’d met at the art gallery where you worked. He’d seen you leading a tour group and couldn’t help but listen in as you stopped in front of Monet’s “The Thames below Westminster”, curious at what you would say about it. The way you talked with gentle passion about the artists use of light and subdued colour was entrancing to him and he’d approached you after the tour, wanting to hear more. An invitation to drinks had lead to dating and you’d made your relationship public by being his partner at a gala a few weeks ago. Lionel was many things, and as cold and calculating he could be as a businessman, with you he was affectionate, romantic, someone who loved to share his interests and passions and was eager to learn yours. He was also a lavish giver of gifts. Which lead you to here, sitting on the couch in your apartment on a December evening, while he fastened the most exquisite diamond necklace you’d ever seen around your neck. “Leo, you know you don’t have to buy me things like this, right?” You said, feeling a bit overwhelmed and awkward, “I love them, really. But you’re always so extravagant. You don’t need to be.” “I know, Darling. I like doing it, though.” You silently ran your fingers along the pearl drop pendant, looking at nothing.   Lionel brushed his hand along your arm, “What’s wrong?” He asked, “Something’s troubling you.” “It’s nothing.” You shrugged off his concern, getting up off the couch and heading to the kitchen “I was making some coffee, do you want some?”

Lionel followed you into the kitchen. Something was clearly weighing on your mind, and he hated seeing you so subdued. As you filled the coffee machine, some colourful paper sticking up out of the paper bin caught his attention. It was a copy of the Sun, with a picture of the two of you, taken at a Gala you’d recently attended. Along with the picture was the headline, “Billionaires new arm candy” and a short text making allusions about your relationship around his money and your looks. You turned around, saw him holding the paper and froze. “I thought you hated this trash rag?” he said, dropping it back in the bin, “Is that article what’s upsetting you?” You didn’t answer, but Lionel could see the tears welling up in your eyes and you quickly rubbed your eyes to try and hide them, focusing back on taking some cups from the cupboard. Lionel stepped up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, spoon hugging you against him. Your body automatically started to relax when you were pressed against him, he’d had that effect on you from the start. After a moment, you started talking quietly, “Someone at the gallery, fortunately not someone I work closely with, came up to me today and showed me that paper. They said I got a sweet deal, landing you as a Sugar Daddy. I just…It hurt and it made me mad to see people think our relationship is so shallow.” Lionel turned you in his arms to see your face, “I’m sorry, Darling. Really, those noxious trolls will make up what they want to see no matter what we do. But they’re just hollow words from useless gossip peddlers. They don't know anything." You took a breath, “I know. It also just made me feel self-conscious. I mean, you took me to lunch the other day and ended up taking me shopping at Bond Street. You don’t have to do things like that. I love you without all the trimmings.” Lionel smiled softly and held you a little closer, “You know, I think you’re the only person in my life who actually likes me for me. One of the things I love about you. You really don’t care about my money or name. You met a sour old man with an art obsession and decided to give him your heart. I can’t pretend to know why. That’s why I like spoiling you. Why I want to give you everything you deserve. You’re my Lioness, my queen, and you deserve to be treated like one.” Feeling tears prick your eyes again, you pressed your face against his chest, “You make it really hard to be critical when you say things like that.” Your voice was muffled by his shirt. “You live a very different life from the one I’m used to. But, honestly I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it.” You felt him chuckle and his arms wrap around you more fully. You stayed like that for a while before he gently tilted your face up with his hand. He trailed kisses down from your forehead to your lips before leaning back and saying, “Hang the world and their opinions. Come on, Darling, let’s go out.” You smiled up at him, leaning up for one more kiss before heading to your bedroom to get dressed. Lionel grinned as he watched you hurry to the other room. He hadn’t thought falling in love like this was on the cards for him. But loving you was just so easy. You made him happy in a way he’d never known before, and he wanted to do anything he could for you. Anything you would let him do. And he kept a secret hope in the back of his mind, if all went well, he’d be your fiancé by next Christmas.

------------------------------------------------------------------------