#aye thanks for sticking around~ :)

[your-averagewriter]

"Only for you, darlin'"

Summary: Cooper heads into town in search for some RadAway for you when he stumbles upon a cute gift (Cooper Howard x fem!reader).

Word count: 1.0K

Warnings: needles, kissing (slightly ig)

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Stalking through the desert, he heads towards the town in search of some RadAway for you, the radiation reaching too high of a level for Cooper to be comfortable with, especially in his presence.

His boots echo through the makeshift tunnel made of old tubing before sunlight peaks out of the other end, exposing the market on the other side, countless signs decorating the stalls. He pulls his hat down slightly in order to cover his irradiated face more, less because some people find it unsettling and more so people don’t recognise he’s a ghoul.

He walks along the stalls, searching for any RadAway and some other supplies that need topping up. 

Signs stick out to him yet none offer what he needs until he reaches a store with various niche medical supplies as well as bandages and the like. Walking up to the store, he looks over the small bottles and pills decorating the side but doesn't see anything Stimpaks or RadAway.

“Ay,” He gets the attention of the store owner. “You got any RadAway?” He asks, looking up at the man covered in shredded clothes. He shakes his head before looking down at what looks like an old graphic novel. “You sure? I got plenty of caps.”

“How many?” He asks, accent showing he’s not from around here.

“Plenty.” He reinterrates, shaking his bag causing the rattling of the caps and the man puts the graphic novel down, heading further into the shop before returning with a pouch of liquid with a strip of duct tape on, scraggly writing on it.

“I keep it in the back, people nick this stuff the most. 50 caps.” 

Cooper scoffs. “50?” He asks, confusion mixed with annoyance in his voice. “30.”

“45.” He counters. “And I’ll throw in a Stimpak.”

“Fine” Cooper counters and the seller sighs before pushing it towards him whilst Copper pushes the caps on the side. “And you got the good deal there, you should feel lucky I’m willing to pay for this.” He snatches it from the side, rolling his eyes before moving on to finding other items but glad he’s got what he came for.

Strolling through the town, he looks in the store windows, something catching his eye in a junk store. He pushes open the door, a bell ringing making him wonder if it’s a trap but why would there be a trap when someone is trying to sell junk?

“Hey darlin’, feel free to take a look around.” An old woman says, crazy hair covering most of her face making him feel uneasy that he can barely see her eyes. He nods before heading towards the window display, boots hitting the wooden planks underfoot noisily as they creak.

A toy rabbit sits in the window, no more than a foot tall with fluffy ears and a cute nose. He swipes at it, examining it and dusting it off before looking for some sort of price label.

“How much for this?” He turns to face the woman who pushes her glasses up, scrunching her nose as she squints at the item.

“8 caps, but for you 4. Who’s this for?” He pulls out another five caps and drops them on the table before carefully putting the bunny in his bag, making sure it’s tucked in and the clasp is shut properly. He pulls on the latch, checking its security. Secure. 

“My girl, she loves bunnies. Thanks.” He grumbles, walking out the store and off to the base again.

He walks back through the desert, kicking the sand as he goes, mumbling to himself and even whistling slightly. He lifts his hand to keep the sun out of his face as the base appears in his field of vision. Base is a strong word for a couple of broken down buildings just by the trees that are more secure than you would think. It provides cover and hides flames when it gets cold.

He can’t help the edges of his lips quirking up at the sight of the base and his girl.

Under an hour later, he returns to the base, stepping through the ‘door’. “Sweetheart?” He yells through the base.

“Cooper, that you?” You ask, sweet voice ringing through the walls.

“‘Course it’s me.” He grins to himself, following your voice.

“I don’t know why you wouldn’t let me come with you.” You say before being interrupted by a cough. After moments of coughing, Cooper rubs your back and once you start speaking, he reaches into his bag.

“Did you get a Stim-” You start but he passes it to you with a brief kiss to the cheek. “Thanks.” You smile before looking down at the Stimpak wrapped in a cloth. Taking it out, your eyes are immediately on the needle, you take a pause and deep breath before injecting it into your thigh.

Letting out a breath, you drop the used Stimpak and look back to Cooper who wears a smirk, holding back a laugh.

“What are you laughing about?” You cock an eyebrow.

“You ain’t scared of no mutants, no raiders, nothing but needles.” He chuckles, his accent prominent. “It’s cute.” He says before remembering the bunny toy in his bag. “I got you something in town.” He says, rootling through his bag.

“More RadAway?” You ask, knowing his paranoia about you getting too much radiation when being around him. 

“Yeah, but I got you something else too.” He pulls the bunny out of his bag. “Now I know it ain’t much, but I saw it and thought you’d like it…” He presents the bunny, quickly brushing off some of the sand from the journey.

“Aww.” You can help but coo at the cute bunny, taking it off of him and holding it gently, picking up one of the ears and letting it flop back down. “You didn’t spend too much on it, did you?” You look back over to him.

“Y’know it’s rude to ask about someone’s finances, sweetheart.” He teases. “Besides, the lady gave it to me for cheap, probably knew I was getting it for my girl.”

“Probably knew you were a softie.” You tease.

“Only for you, darlin’.” He picks up your hand and leans down, kissing it playfully.

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AN: I can't believe I haven't posted anything for over three months… sorry I've had exams and extra and it's just been stressful so hopefully I can get a bit more on track.

I hope you enjoyed reading!

[oceantornadoo]

merry xmas! some platonic family fluff with johnny for y’all

ch3 the wrong john | masterlist | next

john price x f!reader, reader is johnny’s twin

—

When you wake, John is gone.

Predictable, really. Isn’t that what you wanted? A simple fuck, something to hold you over before sticking around this unknown city for however long Johnny tolerated you. John’s dirty talk and possessive demeanor had woken something inside you and now it was gone, lost to hotel sheets and your alcohol-drenched brain. For some odd, unimportant reason, you felt a sense of disappointment that he didn’t stay. You scanned your bedtable for a note or something and came up empty. A feeling of abandonment sank low in your stomach and you tried to tune it out by focusing on the fun you’d had with John. One of your hands slithered down your naked stomach, eyes closing as you tried to recreate a scene from a few hours ago when John woke you up with his tongue. “Open those legs f’ me, that’s a good girl.” You squeezed your eyes shut in an effort to imagine John’s deep baritone. “C’mon, one more. Jus’ f’ me, yeah?” You found yourself nodding along to that phantom voice, fingers circling your sore clit harder and harder, orgasm starting to crest and-

Ding!

Your phone, abandoned in your bag somewhere, was hit with a barrage of texts. You checked the clock and shit, it was already 9:30am. So much for primping before visiting Johnny. With legs like jelly, you slowly walked over and dug through your purse to find your half-dead phone.

Idiot half: We still on for 1000?

Idiot half: Was going to suggest breakfast but training is going over time, fucking rookies. Think the team’s free for lunch if you want.

Idiot half: Let me know when you’re on the way.

Your heart ached with the sincerity Johnny showed over text. He was all jokes in public, but when it was just you two, you could feel your twin’s want for your affection. You two were more similar than you gave credit to. Plugging in your phone, you texted him back a “might be a little late!”, then jumped into the shower and started your day.

45 minutes later, your cab pulled up in front of a stoic-looking military base. “‘Fraid I can’t get ya any closer, miss. This one’s real locked down.” You thanked the driver anyways, paying him then stepping out. Before you could even wonder how to actually get in (should you just walk to the drive up? That seemed undignified), there was a figure with a ridiculous mohawk striding past the front guards, dressed in fully fatigues. 

“M'eudail!��� The stupid urge to run towards Johnny bubbled up inside you, a remnant of your shared childhood. Instead, you quickened your walking pace until you met him at a guarded entrance, blinking twice at how it looked more like a prison than a place of work. Johnny disregarded the guards and attacked you with a hug, his familiar scent of pine and musk invading your senses. Tears were forming in your eyes for some unknown reason, surely not connected to a reunion with your twin.

“Missed ye, hen.” You nodded against him where your cheek was tucked into the curve of his neck. He’d certainly gotten beefier since the last time you saw him, his shoulder muscles digging into your arms around his upper half. “Missed you too, Johnny.” You pulled back a little and Johnny noticed the tears before you could wipe them away. His thumbs were callused but gentle, swiping at your skin until it was dry. “Knew I was y’r favorite.” You scoffed, not meeting his eyes. “Shut up, Johnny. It’s allergies.” He tugged you back into his arms, his stupid twin telepathy reading you too well. “Aye, I ken. Y’know I love you too.” Johnny held you until your tears dried, being a complete gentleman and not acknowledging how puffy your eyes had become when you pulled back. 

“Thought I was here to meet your boyfriend, huh? Or is he conveniently ‘off base’?” You used finger quotes to emphasize your rag. Johnny rolled his eyes, tucking you under his arm and marching you into a scary-looking building. It was so utilitarian it made your eyes burn, all slick concrete and bulletproof windows. Not exactly warm and fuzzy.

“Yer jus’ jealous because yer single, hen. I see right through ye.” He marched you both straight past the guards, then produced a visitor pass out of one of his many pockets and put it around your neck. “Pretty necklace, just for ye.” You rolled your eyes, then elbowed him in the side. No matter what, Johnny could always make you act like a moody teenager. 

You bickered back and forth as Johnny showed you around. “An’ here’s the mess.” (“Bet they cook better than you, Johnny.”) “Common room.” (“Do you guys play shooter games or is that too close to home?”) “Finally, ‘eres where we’re goin’. Trainin’ room.”

It was more than a room, it was a building. It seemed at least two basketball gyms wide, filled with training equipment, a track, and tools that seemed more fit to be in a torture chamber. At one corner of the room, there was a massive hunk of a man yelling at scrawny soldiers you figured were recruits. He was built like a tree, legs and arms thick as trunks while his face was covered with a plain black balaclava. He looked like an intruder you’d had nightmares about.

“An’ ‘eres the L.T. Or Ghost if ye think he’s scary lookin’. The boyfriend, but that’s confidential.” Johnny winked as your mouth dropped. This was the “cuddly fucker” your brother was in love with? He seemed more fit to be the Winter Soldier.

Ghost looked up at the sight of you two approaching. He barked something to the recruits and they scattered, sprinting towards the weightlifting equipment like their lives depended on it. With the way Ghost looked, it might be true.

“Alright, love?” Who was he talking to? You glanced around and oh, Johnny was nodding. You couldn’t have even imagined Ghost would call your brother love in a soft-sounding tone. “‘Ere she is, L.T.. My baby sister.” You rolled your eyes unconsciously. He was older by three minutes.

“Nice to, um, meet you. Johnny didn’t mention it was Halloween year-round here.” Stupid, stupid, stupid. The joke just burst out of your mouth, not even checking in with your brain first. All you could do was watch for his reaction in the stunned silence.

“Johnny, ya didn’t say she was funnier tha’ you. Welcome t’ base, bird.” He pulled you in for a one-armed hug that was over before it started, ruffling your hair before pushing you back out. You glanced back at Johnny and he gave you a wink, pride evident in his face. It warmed your belly and spread to your heart, relaxing your shoulders and spine. Everything was fine. In fact, you probably didn’t even need a drink last night. That thought turned to John real fast, and you shut it down before it started something.

Johnny was clearly the talker of the two, ushering you both out of the training room to meet “Gaz and Cap.” It conjured thoughts of an old-time captain, a man with white hair and a big belly. Wait, maybe that was Santa? Your lack of sleep was really impacting your critical thinking skills.

Excitement and nerves were written clear as day on Johnny’s face as you three neared an official-looking door. He stopped outside of it, Simon at his shoulder blocking the name plate you guessed held their captain’s name. They glanced at each other and Simon squeezed his bicep, words of encouragement flowing unspoken between them. For a second, the smallest millisecond, you felt that familiar yearning for an easy bond like theirs. Something private and sacred.

Johnny nodded to no one in particular, then knocked twice on the door. A muffled “come in” followed swiftly, and he opened the door partially. There was a man sitting in a chair near the door with a baseball hat blocking most of his face. “Bonnie, ‘eres Gaz.” You waved shyly, intimidated by the blinding half-smile he sent your way when he tilted his face up. Your mouth opened, about to ask if he was a Lieutenant too, when Johnny opened the door all the way and pushed you towards the man sitting behind the desk.

“An’ ‘eres the Captain, Cap’n Price.” Your mouth, clearly having disconnected from the rest of your brain, stayed open at the sight before you. At the sight you’d seen 12 hours before in a dark bar, 6 hours before tangled in your sheets, murmuring sweet nothings into your ear. He seemed to remember that fact as well, blazing eyes locking onto yours like there was no one else in the room.

“But you can call me John, sweetheart.”

-

if y’all want updates a bit earlier, subscribe to my ao3 for notifs on this story :)

taglist: @lveegsoi @galactict3a @nova-willow-541 @sirbonesly @starlightkitten19

[mariahcarreyyy]

currently thinking more abt possessive!lando. wondering what the reactions of the grid would be to see his partner covered in marks, or i guess the first reaction to seeing it for the first time.

i think daniel & carlos would have a FIELD DAY w/ lando LMAO. i also think lewis would tease him abt it too.

hope the finals are going well bae 😩 stick in there!!

also random question: have u seen saltburn LMAO???

— ❄️❄️

p.s. finals are OVERRRR🎉🎉🥳 thank you bae p.p.s. i have. i went into that movie not knowing ANYTHING abt it and lemme tell u nothing was pretty (other than jacob elordi's face) nsfw 18+ under beware⬇️⬇️

When the paddock first witnessed the prominent red hickeys on your neck, it had been at one of the hotter grand prix's. You'd been sweating profusely, moisture forming on the parts of your body you didn't even know could sweat until you'd decided you'd had enough. You had taken off your pink turtleneck—a rookie mistake.

"goddamn, y/n, you getting mauled by a bear behind closed doors?" Daniel guffaws from beside you, a hearty laugh slipping past his lips because ofcourse it does. Shit. Your hands fly up and you attempt to cover the expanse of your neck. Because, when I say Lando marks you everywhere, he truly does. With no shame. A pair of familiar arms wrap around your waist from behind you, and Lando has the fucking audacity to sink his teeth into your exposed shoulder. "finished my media duties, baby, what's goin' on here?" Your boyfriend's former teammate only smiles suggestively and jokes while motioning towards your tainted neck, "just wondering if y/n's dating you or a werewolf." Lando grins. Good, Lan beams internally, that's how it should be. You dating him. You being his. All his, forever.

Carlos had been standing beside you and Lando through this interaction and muttered an empathetic, 'ay, lando, give her neck mercy, you animal' because he was not a stranger to this. The brit was his best friend on the grid and the person he'd spend the most time with, so he was aware that Lan had this possessive tendency. Hell, he was more than aware. If you were in close proximity to Lando, you best believe his lips were on you in any way possible. The spaniard couldn't count on one hand how many times he'd have to talk to Lando while the latter was licking, biting, sucking at your neck and jaw.

It was safe to say that the color of your cheeks rivals that of your turtleneck now.

[thegnomelord]

Hii, here for the prompt game of yours!

What about prompt 1. Where the reader is the one suggesting it to Ghost? Like, big ass guy sitting on your lap I think it'll be interesting. If you haven't gotten any ideas maybe there aren't enough seats in a vehicle and he's forced to just sit? But if you've already got a few ideas for this please use yours instead! I love your writing and how your brain works.

You've been doing great! Thank you for your hard work! Fighting man

Anon you and I share the same brain waves lol I legit made that prompt with Ghost in mind :Dd Play the game HERE

Prompt: "Do you-" "If you suggest I sit in your lap I'll kill you."

CW:NSFW, Sub Top M!Reader, Dom Bottom Ghost, semi-public sex, bathroom sex, quickies.

Simon's going to kill him. Stab him, shoot him, feed him to the dogs. And Johnny just looks at him like an innocent puppy with a smug look in his eyes. Of course Soap would suggest going to Vegas and of course he'd rent a car that's too small to fit them all, and of course Simon's the last one to get in...

"Come on LT, hop in already." The Scotsman grins, settling next to you in the back. Gaz is riding shotgun and Price's behind the wheel since he doesn't trust any of you to drive. "Wouldn't want to miss out on loosing all yer money."

Simon's contemplating strapping Soap on the roof or sticking him in the car's boot when you pat your thighs. "Do you-"

"If you suggest I sit in your lap I'll kill you." He cuts you off, glaring at you. He knows he's dead on the target when you give a sheepish grin, honestly he doesn't understand why you'd want him of all people to sit on your lap when he's at least a hundred pounds heavier than you.

"Oh come on Ghost," But you just give a charming grin, confident like a chihuahua against a wolf. "I promise I'll keep my hands to myself." You raise your arms up in surrender, giving him your best puppy eyes.

"Fine," Ghost relents. The shuffle into the car is awkward and he bumps his head on the roof a couple of times, knees knocking into yours before he finally sits down. He's not even surprised when your arms wrap around his waist and you pull him down on your lap further, your hands unable to meet on his front from how big he is.

"That's a comfortable seat, yeah?" Gaz snorts as you nuzzle your nose into his broad back, he's so big you can't even look over his shoulder, his weight pressing down fully on you.

"Aye, look happy like a hog in shite." Johnny snickers, trying and failing to duck from Ghost's hand, ending up getting knocked upside the head. "Ow- that hurt!"

"There's nothing inside there to hurt." Ghost snarks, feeling your chest shake as you muffle your snickers into his back.

"Settle down boys." Price grumbles as Gaz laughs next to him, Price's eyes meeting both Simon's and Johnny's. They mutter out low 'yes sir's before he humphs, turning the car on. The engine rumbles to life like a dying geriatric.

"Christ MacTavish where did you find this piece of shite?" Ghost asks incredulously, and Johnny answers something in Gaelic. He looses track of time when he starts bickering with Johnny until Price turns on the radio, resulting in Gaz and Soap belting out songs at the top of their lungs. He feels your hands squeeze around him, reminding him that he's currently sat on your lap; strange how he could forget that.

The drive to Vegas is hell, the road's bumpy like a teenager's pimply face and Simon bumps his head on the car's ceiling every time Price drives over a pothole. It wouldn't be as bad if he didn't feel. . .you. . . brush against his arse every time it happened.

He was lucky he was wearing his mask so no one would notice how hot he became, hands clenching into fists each time your cock poked him, his throat becoming dry. He could feel you stiffen, suffering under the same problem he was, heat slowly burning in your veins.

And of course Price had to pick the bumpiest road he could, not a second would go without the car rocking and making you grind against him, the bloody bastard probably did it on purpose. At least none of them mentioned how you and Ghost had become silent, you literally biting down on his jacket to keep silent.

Finally after a few hours of hell on wheels Price stop at a gas station that looks like it hasn't seen human life since the 80's. Simon doesn't even wait for the car to shut off before he's jumping out of it, "With me," he growls with a hand firmly grasping the front of your clothes.

You don't resist him as he pulls you into an equally sleazy bathroom, the type of which you'd find in a brothel. "Simon, what-" You suck in a breath as he all but throws you down on the toilet lid, locking the stall behind him.

"Shut'it." Simon growls, pulling his face mask down to kiss you roughly, blindly opening your pants to fish out your cock. You're both hard as rocks, Simon separates from the kiss to push his fingers against your lips. "Open."

Simon groans as you take his fingers into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his fingers. If you had more time Simon would have had you eat him out, but fingers will have to do for now, especially with how you look when he catches your tongue between his fingers.

"So eager." Ghost hums, undoing his belt and dropping his pants and underwear, bracing a hand on your shoulder as he leans down and roughly pushes two fingers inside him. He groans and kisses you again, quickly stretching himself just enough so he doesn't tear anything.

"Just for you." You mutter against his lips, sucking in a breath when Simon pulls his fingers out, spits on his hand and lubes your cock.

"You better be." He grins, swiftly turning around so his back is facing you. Holding your cock in one hand he moves so your tip is poking his hole, slowly sinking down. Your hands fly to his hips, gripping firmly but not trying to slow him down. "Yeah, that's a good lad." He groans, relishing the burn and stretch, the sizzle of pain muddling with pleasure, electricity running up his spine.

God, he's so big compared to you it does your head in, your hips bucking up to meet his, chasing the tight heat enveloping your cock. "Fuck, Si," You groan, biting the back of his jacket to silence your moans as Simon starts riding you. He's unable to get a good leverage with the awkward position so you two end up rutting like animals, your hand coming around to stroke his cock, feeling his walls tighten around you.

You two cum in record time, a low moan leaving his lips as he shoots cum across the stall door. His hole flutters and clenches around you, muttering 'come on, give it to me' over and over again until you're cumming inside him, his walls milking you for all you have.

You feel him slump against you, tight heat still trying to pull more cum from you. You both are breathing heavy, bliss coursing through your veins as you tilt your head to kiss the nape of his neck lazily.

"Oi, quit snogging else we're leaving yer here!" Johnny's voice rings from the other side of the stall door.

Oh, you are going to kill him.

[yue-chan077]

[ #HonkaiStarRail #Aventurine ]

❤️🎅 ᴹᵉʳʳʸ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗᵐᵃˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴴᵃᵖᵖʸ ᴴᵒˡⁱᵈᵃʸˢ 💙🦚

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Merry Christmas and happy holidays everyone! ✨💙🎄🎁

still can't believe that we made it this far ! congratulations to all of us and to all who is seeing this post ,huge confirmation that we all friggin' did GOOD this year! 😤👏✨

may your day be filled with love and blessings esp around with people important to you ☺️✨💙 have a great day everyone!

and thank you for sticking with me! we still have a load to go for the upcoming new years ! ✨💙👏

that is all for today ya alls--✨ back to the pending wips and workload Yue goessss again aye--! ~~🤸

( PROHIBITED TO REPOST USE PRINT TRACE ANYWHERE, DONT REMOVE MY SIGNATURE WHEN REPOSTING )

#YueArt

[prettypinkporkchop]

❤️❤️❤️ Clumsy reader who since childhood was always accident prone always manages to get cuts and bruises but she’s used to it so she just laughs them off but her imprint embry always gets a small heart attack when she’s hurt that he even tells the pack and imprints to watch her when he’s not around cause she’s pregnant

We love a protective man

You stub your toe on the table at Billy's house. You hiss and lean forward, your baby bump above the table.

"Hey.." Embry says, grabbing your waist.

You look back and smile at him. "No, baby. I'm okay!" You giggle.

"I've got to baby proof the house for you, not the baby." Jacob jokes, setting down your plate of food.

"Not a bad idea." Embry agrees. He sits you down on the chair next to Quil.

Quil eyes you and then look up at your face. "May I feel?" He smiles.

Quil is so excited to be an uncle to Embry's baby. Embry had always been his bestest friend, same with Jake.

You nod your head, smiling at him. He lights up like a kid and gently places his hand on your stomach. He looks over at Embry, who has his arms crossed with an adorable smile.

"He's kicking." Quil gushes.

"He sure is an active baby." Embry smirks.

-----

You step backward, looking at the sign Emily hung up in the living room. You observe its placement. You slightly tilt your head, doing so, you simply lose balance, and Paul grabs your arms.

"Jesus Christ, y/n. Embry will kill me if I don't watch your every move." He chuckles.

You stand straight and look at him laughing. "I'm not that bad. I'll be alright!"

"No, you won't be. Thanks, Paul." Embry walks inside from helping Sam outside. He wraps his arm around your waist and kisses the top of your head.

"Come on. Let's go get y/n some food." Emily ushers you all at the table.

Everyone else walks inside. Sam grabs Emily and kisses her cheek.

"Guys, please. If you're around her," Embry points at you, "watch her. When I'm not beside her, please. Pregnant and clumsy don't mix." He says.

Jared grabs Embrys shoulders from behind him. "Don't worry, brother. We've got this shit." He laughs, patting his back and then sitting down.

"Guys! I'm okay! Don't be so dramatic." You roll your eyes.

"Y/n, no offense, but even I'm scared." Kim says from the doorway.

Emily places a plate of food in front of you, and you start eating.

----

You try to stand up out of your chair at the bonfire to grab some hotdogs.

Embry is quick to stand up before you and grab onto you. "Baby girl, wait for me to get you." He whispers in your ear.

You softly pat his arm away. "I've got this, Em." You giggle.

"Don't care. Where you headed?" He says with assertiveness.

"Table. I want a hotdog." You look at his face. He smiles down at you. He leans down to peck your lips.

"I'll roast the weenie for you. You sit here. Don't move." He helps you back into the chair.

Embry comes back with a stick and a weenie, placing it in the fire.

"Aye, can you roast one for me?" Paul asks.

Embry flips him off. You giggle and cover your mouth.

"I want princess treatment sometimes." Paul turns you with a smile.

"How much longer until the baby boy is here?" Rachel asks, looking over Paul.

You sigh and rub your stomach. "Any freaking minute now!"

"Yeah, that's why the clumsy girl stays still." Embry scoffs.

He sits next to you after making your hotdog. He kisses your cheek and then whispers in your ear. "You're mine to protect. I love you."

This sends butterflies in your stomach. "I love you, too."

[bkd-b3ans]

You try to repair a watch, Boothill is being annoying as usual, you end up discovering his neurolink perfectly mimics human emotions.

-> Ship: Boothill X Mechanic!Reader (or just tech savvy idk the term really)

-> Rating: Safe for All

-> TL;DR: Boothill visits you after closing hours, nearly ruins a 5 million watch repair commission, stares for a bit too long while you work and overheats for a bit, ends up learning you live above your own workshop and you learn he gets flustered easy.

-> Extra notes: No idea where I will go with these, I just love writing stuff. Next one is going to be more about touching / feeling, but until then, you too can experience casual chatter. I do not proof read, whatever is written is in accordance to Ellios script, go meow at him. Take this "2nd" part as pure world-building.

-> Word count: 2k~ ish

-> First part: here

Thank you for reading and bearing with my awful English. If you have any prompts I would be more than happy to hear them.

"Pardner? Yoohooo~" Boothill was waving his arm like a manic from the front of the counter, trying to catch your attention, but you were too engrossed in your work, tinkering away with some expensive watch you were paid to fix, the tiny gears and springs neatly organized in your table in tiny boxes with labels, while you were hunched over the table, looking through a magnifying glass and listening to music, tongue almost sticking out like some cartoon character while you were trying to place the gear in its place carefully using some precise tweezers.

For all you cared, your shop was closed for the day, so why would anyone in their right mind, or that knows how to read a sign, would even bother you? Of course you didn't take into account a Galaxy Ranger that had a passion for annoying you at random times.

"Psst, hey, over 'ere..." he sighed, "Fudge this". Impatient as ever, Boothill just helped himself with one of the expensive motor oil cans in the counter and stepped around it, taking off his hat and placing it on your head.

The whole motion made you jump out of your skin, dropping the tweezers together with the very important, one of a kind gear, that you could barely notice while it was on your table, let alone on your floor, rolling off into the void like all of the pens you've lost throughout the years.

"WHAT THE FUCK, MY FUCKING WORK OF MY AEONS-" you took off the hat annoyed, hand still shaking from the scare and heart running laps in your chest. Shoving the hat into Boothills chest, you couldn't help but be angry at the man, sighing.

"Damn sugar-cube, didn't know ye were this jumpy. Ye should be more aware of yer surroundings you know?"

"What the hell does that mean. MY SHOP IS CLOSED BOOTHILL, CAN'T YOU READ??"

"Well, not your language no, it's all a bunch of jumbles and lines"

You looked confused for a moment before realizing that neither of you were from the same planet. You rubbed the bridge of your nose, trying to get rid of your furrow.

"Just, shut up and help me look for that gear. AND PUT THE DAMN CAN DOWN"

He raised his arms in defeat, putting down the can of motor oil and looking around your workbench while you were painfully looking for the gear with your magnifying glasses.

"Lotta' shiny pieces you have on the table. Are these really more important than your good old buddy, Boothill?"

"Unless you're willing to give me 5 million, then yes"

Boothill choked

"5 million?? For some beautiful watch?"

"What can I say, some people have more than they know what to do with. Now stop yapping and get on your knees, I can't see shit."

"Is that an invitation, darling?"

"... BOOTHILL!"

"Aye aye, don't get your feathers ruffled like this darling, just sit there and be pretty"

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

You couldn't help but be annoyed still, slumped in your chair, fiddling with your pen, while Boothill was looking around. How long has it been already, maybe a few minutes? Hours? Days??? Your work couldn't wait that much, and each ticking second felt agonizing. You were so close too, getting interrupted was the last thing you needed right now. You always had plans, a schedule, deadlines, you couldn't afford the unpredictability that is Boothill sometimes.

You almost got too lost in your thoughts before you heard a sudden thud, metal against wood, and a proud exclamation.

"Here it is sugar-cube, your pretty little thing... Cogwheel whatever. Now can you stop looking like someone spat in your food or do I need to repair this watch myself to make you happy?"

You could swear sometimes he was like a dog, a big doberman. For as scary as he could look sometimes, you couldn't help but be unable to push him away. All you could do was just let out an amused scoff, taking the gear piece in the palm of your hand, and gently placing it in it's box.

"No, no, you've done enough damage already. Why are you here even?"

"Just wanted to pay my best buddy a visit? What, a man can't do that no more?"

"No fixing your body? No maintenance work? Really nothing? Just a visit? Odd, thought you were a busy man"

"Oh I sure am sugar-cube, but sometimes even I need to sit down and relax."

"... In my workshop"

"In yer workshop, yes."

You sighed

"Fine, fine, stay for as long as you need, but don't touch anything that is in this-" you motion around your workbench "general area"

He tipped his hat in acknowledgment

"Aye aye, I'll stay put, fudge me, you can be very serious sometimes."

"5 million"

"Right yes, that's understandable."

You went back to work, trying to finish placing the last pieces inside that damned watch, headphones back on your ears. Boothill was simply slumped on the couch you kept around the waiting area, that barely saw any use to begin with. He was just looking around, bored out of his mind, the silence really starting to get to him. On occasion he's throw you glances, looking like a kicked puppy only to be met by your back either way. Yet he couldn't help but notice the few tics you had, tapping your foot, humming to yourself from time to time, arranging your hair by shaking your head around, and just how damn beautiful you looked in that dim warm light.

By no means we're you prettied up and groomed, after all, working with machinery all day will just lead to one always being covered by oil or sutt, clothes messy, the tools around your belt loud and heavy, but to him, it was part of the charm. The passion you had for what you did, the care you treated everything with, even his own body when it needed repairs. Sure, you two may butt heads more often than goats, but you were the reason he kept making his trips back to your workshop for any needs. He trusted you, felt comfort in your presence.

He could feel his insides start to heat up, his mind trailing off. Sure, he couldn't blush for the love of him, after all blood stopped flowing through his body long, long ago, but his body still reacted from time to time to strong emotions, and now it was no different. It felt, uncomfortable almost, a strange emptiness in his metal gut. Maybe it was the bullets he snacked in like some chips, or maybe it was more than that. He just simply pulled his hat over his eyes to focus and calm down.

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

Finally, after so many hours, you were finally done, the watch ticking gleefully, almost as if happy with it's new look. You sighed in relief, finally placing down your headphones and slumping in your chair, pulling your glasses up.

"Finally... I swear they are trying to drive me insane with all these new 'trinkets' that have way too many small pieces for their own good. How you holding up, Boots?"

"Fine as ever sugar, bored out of my mind, but rested"

"Yeah, I can see that, you've already made a dent in my couch"

"Hey, I helped ya find that gear for free, can't I get some more respect"

"And who's fault was it that I dropped it?" You said, raising your eyebrow.

"Aye aye, sorry 'bout that."

There was a moment of pause

"Say, partner, you've messed around inside my body for a while now. Do you know if there's any functions that might mimic proper human emotions?"

"Human emotions? Hmmm"

You thought for a moment, trying to remember if you've seen any kind of code that might do that.

"I don't think I've seen anything like that, but I've also never like, actually paid attention. There may be some functions that mimic that, after all, you might need them to think and work properly. Why?"

"Ah, nothing important, was just wondering."

"I can always check if you want. Of course, for a price"

He couldn't help but scoff, amused "You were never free eh?"

"Someone has to eat"

"Sure, sure. I mean why not, might as well get this mystery solved, since I'm here and have nothing better to do."

"Then come with me"

You both went inside your garage, Boothill already used to all the steps, laying down on the weird table chair as he put it while you connected the cables to the back of his neck, opening the hologram screens.

"Let's see..." you rubbed your chin, pacing around while moving around screens, trying to find anything remotely similar to what Boothill mentioned, but it was rather hard. Every line kept changing dictating different functions every moment.

"Hmm...."

"Anything the matter?"

"No, I just realized why I might have never seen that kind of function. Your neurolink is adapting to everything you do, so it's changing constantly. I think the only way to spot anything us to trigger whatever made you so curious about your 'emotions'"

"Trigger em? And how the fork do you plan on doing that?"

You thought for a moment, moving next to Boothill, dragging the screens along with you. You didn't really give a warning as you poked his chest with a screwdriver, noticing some changes.

"What in the beautiful sky are you doing?"

"There it is" you just pointed at the screen at the suddenly changing lines.

"Your body reacts to your mental state. Right now you are confused"

"I sure as warm lake I am, you're poking me around with a screwdriver."

"What else would have you wanted me to do? Touch you with my own hands?"

He was about to say something, but you grabbed one of the screens, squinting at it.

"Getting flustered, Boots?" You could almost feel your own smug smile forming on your face.

"Flustered? Please, you'd think I'd get 'flustered' from just a check-up?"

"Bashful... Interesting"

"Hey! Stop saying things and answer me, sweetheart"

"And annoyed. Yeah, you do seem to have those functions, and they're damn advanced to mimic human emotions. Guess you aren't just metal after all. You still have the ability to feel. It's interesting how this changes..."

You got too focused on the lines of code, not paying attention to how you started leaning against the table, your hand extremely close to Boothills, fingers almost touching. Sure, you were just staring at the lines changing, but Boothill was staring at your hand, annoyed almost that he couldn't just grab it, only to be confused over why he was annoyed. You just chuckled to yourself and pushed the screen away, unplugging the cables.

"Well, mystery solved, your neurolink functions exactly like a brain and it sends the proper signals, so your body will be affected by your emotions."

"Great-" he rolled his eyes, standing up and scratching the back of his head "You need a new table, this one is forking uncomfortable."

"I don't take feedback"

"Yeah yeah, whatever you say darling." he just hopped off the table, adjusting his hat.

"H-"

"1k credits"

"Damn, let me finish at least. Fine, you know the drill"

"Nah, I'll let it slide this time. Getting to check your internals can be fun sometimes" you patted his back

"I'll go home, unless you want to guard my shop, you should leave too."

"You don't just live in your workshop??"

"...what...?"

"You know, like, I've always only seen you here, where is your home even."

"Oh... Oh! I guess you can say that? My home is upstairs, I bought the whole building when I opened so everything on the ground floor is the shop, upstairs is my place."

"Ok that makes sense... Can I-"

"No"

"Fine fine, I'll go my merry way then. I'll see you next time partner, and thank you for the free check-up"

"Don't get too used to them"

He nodded, tipping his hat and leaving.

[alnilaem]

you lose your way on the pastures of a hidden farmstead. however, upon meeting the husky owner, being lost quickly becomes the least of your problems.

cw for noncon/dubcon, forced lifestyle puppy play, kidnapping

read on ao3

-

John sees you coming from over the horizon.

He heard the sputter of your van before seeing it. The plume of smoke that follows in your wake, orange and ashy, as you drive down the pebbled road.

He was rounding the house after letting the cattle out when he noticed you. He tips the brim of his hat back and watches, grinding his teeth into the wad of tobacco folded into his cheek, his hackles raised because you’ve decided to ignore the splintery No Trespassing sign in big, black letters pounded into the front of his farmstead.

He wraps a hand around his belt, watching as your camper van slows to a stop in front of him.

The hinges in John’s jaw lock. He’s ready to throw out an expletive, threaten you with the bare metal of his pistol, browned with age, and throw you into the back of his rust-bridled truck. He’d drive you into town and toss you onto the porch of the sheriff’s office, maybe teach you a thing or two about trespassing.

But your engine cuts, and your door swings open, and John’s tobacco turns heavy in his mouth.

He sees your shoes first, pressing tracks into the dirty road as you step out. Frilly socks that end below your knees. You’re wearing tight little denim shorts and a gauzy top that sticks to your chest, knotting your nipples in the summer heat.

You smile.

It’s a little sweet, dewy-eyed. It makes John’s cock chub up, makes him swallow his tobacco on accident, sticking to the spine of his throat.

“Hi mister,” you say. Light and wispy like the breeze that whorls through your ropes of hair. “Sorry to be a bother.”

John perks up. He crosses his arms over his heavily built chest, the hair on his forearms bristling with his newfound flush.

“Just trying to find my way here–“ you unfurl a map and point towards a little dot. “Mind helping a girl out?”

You giggle. It’s coy, John tells himself, just like the flutter of your eyelashes as you hoist your neck up at him, preening.

“Um… sure,” John takes off his cowboy hat and runs a hand through his sweat-matted hair. “Four hours. East. You jus’ follow the road.”

Gooseflesh creeps down John’s skin as you turn around and toss your map into the van, your ass spilling from the bottom of your shorts.

You turn back around and John coughs, averts his eyes to the cattle in the distance. He tightens the reel of his lasso around his knuckles, squirming.

“Thanks, mister,” you grin. “Know anywhere I can top up on gas?”

He gives you another look.

His eyes sweep a trail of flames over your body, making your blood churn. He keens at your nipples and the grain of your denim shorts digging into your cute pussy. He can see the barest outline of it winking back at him. Making his cock pulse.

He decides not to tell you about the gas station a kilometre west of here. Decides that would be too much trouble for a pretty lady like you.

“I’ve got plenty,” John says. Gruff, grizzled, like a bear that’s been in torpor too long. “Follow me.”

All John has to do is snap his tongue against the roof of his mouth to get you to follow him. He takes you into his rustic farmhouse, the place sparse in a red-blooded way, and leads you to the kitchen.

You don’t expect the dog, large with mud-felted paws, that pounces and almost knocks you to the floor.

Its tongue is rough and wet and gnarled against your cheek. You squeal, trying to push it away. It probably thinks you’re playing because it wags its tail, nipping at the divot in your shoulder.

“Aye,” John barks. “Off of ‘er, Dog. Git! Git on out of here.”

John shepherds the dog—aptly named Dog—into his crate by tossing a threadbare toy into it. The golden-haired mutt chases after it, following the toy into his cage.

“No way to treat a damn lady…” John mumbles under his breath. He smiles apologetically at you, his soft wrinkles puckering. He puts his hands on his hips, digging his fingers into his moth-eaten jeans and his sun-bleached flannel. He cocks his head to the side, squints.

“So, sweetheart, how about that gas?”

-

John brings you to a barn out back.

He leads you with a hand split on your lower back, past the stables and the paddocks and the roaming cattle beneath the blaring sun.

He pulls open the large barn doors, his arms flexing with the exertion, and puts his hands on his belt.

It’s an abandoned building. There’s no chicken, no stallions. It’s clear that the barn has been delegated to a storage space of sorts, going by the hay-bales strewn around and the miscellaneous staples of ranch equipment.

John smiles. It offsets his rugged look, makes you disarm a bit.

“Apologies for the mess,” he says, starting to tear through the supplies. “Just wasn’t expectin’ a pretty lady on my doorstep today.”

You stifle a giggle just to be nice, but John, in his time-honoured ways, reads it as coy again. It makes his cock stir against the metal teeth of his jeans, makes his mustache turn hot and wiry against the damp skin above his lip.

John rummages some more. Pretends to nick his finger on a metal steeple. Expels a heavy breath. His stomach paunchy and his chest strong, the hairs pressing against the gauze of his flannel as he rises to his feet and shrugs, hands set on his belt.

“Sorry sweetie,” John grumbles. “No gas here. How do you feel about dinner though?”

The change happens so quick you almost get hit with whiplash.

Your lips pop around stutters, and John’s balls turn heavy. He can imagine your lips parting around his cockhead, all the way down to his pubic bone which is stale with sweat and musky, steel-wooled. It makes him grip his belt tighter, white-knuckled, and undo the first few buttons of his flannel.

“Sir… I really should be getting out of your hair.”

“Nonsense,” John chuckles. “It’s the least I can do for havin’ no gas. I can go into town tomorrow and get some.”

You’re already impaired by the burning, penetrative summer heat. It doesn’t help the way John is looking at you, like a stray predator that made its way onto his ranch and forces him to lock up his animals for safety.

John senses the rumination written into your pretty features. He tacks on, “An old man like me never gets any visitors. None as sweet as you, surely.”

You have to nod, still a little hesitant. You say yes only because there’s a bulky rancher here keen on filling your belly and the sun is beginning to set.

John chuckles and claps his large hands together. He leads you back to the main house and ends up feeding you shepherd’s pie and a cold can of Cola. He pours himself a glass of whiskey and that makes you indignant, as if he sees you as a kid.

Dog stirs at your feet while you eat. Nosing at your ankles and nudging your legs for some food. John flares. He snaps his fingers and snarls, and Dog, moulded by his Pavlovian response, ambles into his crate.

“That’s where naughty dogs go,” John tells him. “You’ll stay there ‘til we’re done.”

You finish not long after that. John gives Dog the plates to lick before soaking them in soap water and shows you your room for the night. His room, actually, but he says he’ll sleep on the couch because he’s a gentleman.

That makes you smile.

But when you wake up the next morning, you’re choking.

Your throat is cinched with nylon webbing. The collar cuts into your windpipe, hindering your sprinting breaths, causing panic to lick up your spine. You sweat and the collar soaks it all up. Makes your skin itchy, flaring, as you chisel at your flesh to try peeling it off you.

You stumble out of John’s bed and hurry outside. He’s herding the cattle when you run towards him for help. Your mind is too scattered to realize he’s the only other person on this farmstead. He’s the one who did this.

“Mister, mister–“ your words come out stifled, cramped against the tight ruck of your throat. “Mister, I dunno what’s happened. Help-“

John puts a hand up and tuts like you’re nothing but a strident, misbehaving mutt.

“Easy,” he grunts around a cigar. “Jus’ calm down, will you? You’re hootin’ and hollerin’ and scarin’ the cattle.”

You choke around your tears. You hang your head, still trying to wrestle the collar off you, your fear ripening into panoramic horror when you look down and see golden fur embroiled into the collar. A bone-shaped tag engraved with a word that makes your blood run cold.

Dog.

It’s John’s name for his pet, but on you, it’s derogatory. Degrades you to a four-legged pup that laps water out of a basin and squats to piss, that needs a handler as rough as John to keep you in check.

He cups your cheek, passes his thumb over your fat tears.

“You don’t like it?” He asks, his voice distorted with a hint of disappointment that, despite you, makes you feel bad. “I took it off Dog. Now he’s runnin’ around the ranch with no collar. I thought you’d appreciate it.”

He curls his fingers under the collar and tugs you close. Your face puckers as he expels a plume of cigar smoke over your face, softly squeezing your bum.

“Good dogs say thank you though. Are you a good dog?” John asks. His eyes darken, eclipsed by something dusky. “Or are y’naughty?”

John forestalls your begging reply, squashing it against your throat as he grips your collar and drags you behind him. Taking his puppy on a walk.

You bridle at the deep-seated embarrassment. John’s other animals seem to have more freedom than you, watching from their pens and pastures as you kick and scream behind him. He pulls you into the main house and takes you to the kitchen. Bullies you to your knees in front of the crate.

He grips the scruff of your neck and forces your head inside. It smells stuffy, stale. The dog bed is moth-eaten and covered in fur.

John pats your ass. He rubs your pussy through your shorts, slowly pulls them off. Kisses your slick clit which is outlined by the dewy gusset of your panties.

“Y’gonna keep cryin’?”

A long cry quivers past your lips.

John’s fingers, although jaded, a testament to working with his hands, make you feel delirious. Makes you curl your pert ass into him, your cunt begging for more.

“Go on, girl,” he grunts. “Go on in. Git.”

He takes you by the collar and shoves you inside the dog cage, since–

“You wanna keep cryin’. I’ll give you somethin’ to cry about.”

There’s barely enough space inside to move around. Dog is a big dog, so you’re able to spin around and face John, but that’s all. You tuck yourself into a fetus position, resting on your knees, the metal grating pressing tracks into your hot skin.

“I don’t reward bad behaviour,” John says. “So for that you’ll spend the night here.”

John clicks his teeth each time you misbehave—clawing at the door, begging him to let you out—his kissing teeth bully the sound of your pleas, until eventually, you quieten, responsive to his clicking tongue.

“That’s it,” John says. There’s a thread of praise in his voice that makes you squirm. “You stay there an’ think about what you’ve done.”

He stands up and prepares his lunch. Eggs on bread and a beer to wash it down. John eats slowly, as if he’s teasing you. Disciplining you further. You don’t think he’s going to feed you, another component of his punishment, until he’s rising from his chair and squatting in front of you, his empty plate in his hands.

Well, almost empty.

Veins of leftover egg yolk are smeared around the ceramic. You look at it, and then at John. He passes his fingers over the yolk and sticks his arm in your crate because the gaps are big enough, waggling his coated fingers.

“Eat.”

You’re shaking. Hesitantly unfurling your tongue, working it around John’s thick fingers, swallowing whatever dregs of food he’ll let you. You become more eager as it goes on—lapping at his yolk-covered fingers as well as the mud and mire crusted into his nails. Sucking at his swollen knuckles, nibbling on his finger hair.

He belly laughs before pulling his fingers out of your cage. John stands up and soaks his plate in sudsy water, turning to look at you.

“Busy day today,” he says. “I’ll see you tonight, pup.”

You find yourself whimpering—not talking—as he turns to leave.

-

That night, you’re woken with a scuffle and John clicking his tongue.

It rouses you immediately. That, and the thin sound of his belt unbuckling.

Sweat sticks to your skin, dewy, when John prods through the crate and gropes you. You can’t see him but you can feel him. Rubbing your puffy cunt, thumbing your clit. Flattening his tongue against your pussy and pulling your lips into his mouth.

“So fuckin’ sweet,” he mumbles against your clit. “Knew you were a sweet girl.”

John’s tongue travels up and wets your asshole. It makes you jerk against the metal, makes the cage rattle.

He pulls away and you moan, thinking it’s another punishment. You push your ass against the gratings, presenting yourself, the metal gridwall rubbing against your swollen clit and making you shiver.

John mumbles something about patience. It seems that he doesn’t have any patience either, soft-soaped by your pussy, because he’s pressing his tip against your opening and feeding you his cock.

John fucks you through the holes of your cage.

Your lungs barely have space to stretch. Your knees are folded into your chest and your collar is still biting into your neck. You’re being split open on John’s cock, your arousal turning your thighs sticky. Drool trickling from your mouth and sticking to your cheek.

You don’t know when it ends. When you come, thighs trembling, or when John paints your walls. You also don’t know when it starts again.

All you know is that it becomes a daily thing, lapsing into a weekly thing. You go to bed in your cage but, sometimes, when you behave, John will let you sleep on the foot of his bed. He’ll clip your nails for you and keep you well-groomed. Brushing your hair, cutting it for you. Bathing you in a galvanized tub out back.

Unlike with Dog, John will even let you eat while he eats dinner. He’ll unzip his jeans and let you slobber at his fat cock while he sips away at his blended whiskey and polishes off his meal with his full belly and his soon-to-be empty balls, mumbling all the while about how much of a perfect pet you are, how he’ll never let you go.

Not that he was planning to, anyhow.

[iamyourdailydoseofbi]

RUN RABBIT, RUN RUN RUN. ( House of the Dragon x Reader )

AUTHOR NOTE! Thanks for all the love. <3 pairing: DARK! King Aegon ii Targaryen x Common Folk! Reader prompt: Aegon has been watching you from years. Now that he is King, he intends to make his intentions clear. key: Y/n = Your name, R/n = Random name, E/C = eye color word count: 1, 000+ words

He was six and ten when he first met you, well more of, he saw you from a distance. You were a pretty little thing⎯well, for some common folk girl, you were pretty. From what he saw from a distance, you worked as a barkeep, cleaning tables and sometimes serving ale or whatever shitty drink they served at that tavern. 

You were pretty, maybe growing more so in a few years, but enough for the other drunks to take notice as well. He didn’t like it. Even though he had never spoken to you, or really interacted with you at all. You were his pretty little barekeep to gawk at.

It took everything in him to not set Sunfyre upon all of them, burning the shitty little tavern up in flames. So then, he could take their charred remains and show what happened when others touched what was his. But, he digressed. For now. 

Slowly sauntering into the tavern, he searches for you in the crowd of common folk, his gaze predatory and determined. Since his coronation as King, he had been busy, far too busy to leave the Red Keep to go to Flea Bottom. All he wished for now was to have a drink and watch you as he had done a dozen times before. He was sure if he was going to speak to you yet. It wasn’t that he did not have the courage to speak to you. 

He was a Targaryen, and now King, he had nothing to feel ashamed of or worried about. But rather he liked the way you squirmed under his gaze. He liked the way you would grow stiff and then blush a soft pink when you realized that it was just him. It was adorable and a good ego boost to know that he could get you all flustered without even needing to speak. 

“All hail the new King!” Some drunk slurs aloud, “From the King of Flea Bottom to the King of the Seven Kingdoms!”

“Aye!” 

“All hail!”

Rolling his eyes at the drunken babbling that filled the tavern, he sits down at his usual table, kicking his feet up on a chair. Drumming his fingers against the table, he looks around for you, growing wary as he doesn’t see you in the tavern. Clenching his jaw tightly as his temper starts to rise, he holds back at lashing out, his mind running a million miles per hour.

“Where the hell is that damn girl?! Y/n!” A barkeep behind the bar rants, “Oi! You, go get Y/n.”

Not even the other barkeep’s knew where you were at. You weren’t here. You were always on time. Why the fuck were you not here? Where the fuck were you at?

Feeling his temper bubbling with each second that he doesn’t see you, the loud slamming of a door fills the tavern, nobody paying any mind to it. Seeing you walk inside all soaked from the rain, he instantly calms down at sight of you. 

Slowly trailing his eyes over your soaked figure, you look ethereal like this. Hair all soaked and clothes sticking to you like a second skin, accentuating  your curves. Feeling a presence beside him, he snaps out of his daze, seeing some other barkeep trying to speak to him.

“Can I⎯” 

“No, no, her. I want her.” He orders, pointing at you. 

Watching as you dried yourself off with a rag, he smirks at how your linen underskirt was practically sheer. He wondered, if he spilled his seed in you, would a bastard grow in your belly? Would then he be able to whisk you away to the Red Keep, far far away from the drunks and fools that surrounded you both? After all, you would be so grateful for him to do such a thing. You, some lowborn common folk girl, getting the luxury of carrying his child in your belly. 

“Bring me her. I will take nothing but what she brings to me.” He orders.

Feeling a familiar pair of predatory eyes on you, you slowly turn around to see the now King, watching you. He sat at the same table as always, in the center where he and those silvery locks could be gawked at. Furrowing your brows in confusion, you watch as R/n walks away from the table, rolling her eyes hard with a scowl. Cocking her head to Aegon, you didn’t even have to ask to understand that he had rejected her. 

Wiping your hands dry with the rag, your eyes locked onto Aegon’s, e/c meeting predatory violet eyes. Shivering at the gaze, R/n motions for you to go to him with a cock of her head, her iration clear as day at not getting any coin from him. Mustering up your courage, you walk over to him, coming face-to-face for the first time ever. He was a lot more handsome up close. Alluring violet eyes, silvery white Targaryen hair and pouty lips. 

“Do you wish to make your King happy?” He asked, his voice rough and low.

“I do, your grace.” You nod, “ How can I be of service to you?”

“I can think of many ways.”

Growing tense at the lewd comment, you shift in place, unsure if he was jesting with you or if he was being serious. You have never spoken to him up to this point, just watching from afar or in passing. You could not tell. Chewing on your bottom lip a little nervously, he places a hand on your waist, letting out a full belly laugh. Weakly nodding unsure, he slowly trails his hand down to your hip, not quite inappropriate but not appropriate at the same time. 

“Can I get you some ale, your grace?” You ask, attempting to change the subject.

“No.”

“Or mayhaps some bread from the kitchen?” You try again, “I am sure we can find something for you if that is what you desire.”

“No.”

Blushing under his intense gaze, he slowly stands up from his seat, looking like a predator stalking its prey. Tilting your head up as he towers over you, you resist the urge to cower, not wanting him to see your fear. In your time working here you learned men tended to like seeing women cower, it was like a game to them. Softly gulping as he digs his nails into your hip, a voice in the back of your head tells you to run away, that he was dangerous. But, your legs would not let you move. 

“Your grace?” You whisper, your voice weak. 

“Then you will not scream, cry, or protest as I take you back to the Red Keep.” He whispers, “I would hate to have to kill you when I have just gotten you within my grasp. Now walk, my little rabbit.”

----

@lovelykhaleesiii

@fragileheartbeats

@danytar

@nightvers

[enwoso]

Lovie wanting a fringe so she cuts one herself one day at training and alessia freaks out and has to get it done professionally to fix it

THE CHOP — alessia russo x child!reader

grumpy masterlist

“mummy, mummy!” you squealed as you ran into the changing room, the girls having just came in from doing their outside training. you not being able to go and watch as it was raining and alessia didn’t want you getting sick.

so you’d been stuck inside but you had made you own fun, making things with paper, cutting paper, sticking paper, drawing and giving yourself a hair cut!

a small yelp came from your mummy as she laid eyes on you, you had given yourself a fringe — well sort of. your hair at the front being a wiggly sharp chopped line across the front of your face. it wasn’t even and it definitely didn’t look nice, even though you thought it looked pretty good.

“lovie? what have you done to your hair” alessia winced as she touched the bits of your hair, thinking maybe you were just pulling a prank on her and it was a wig or clip in extensions. it definitely wasn’t, it was most definitely your hair.

you stood with a big grin, proud of your work you’d done on your hair. “cut it!”

alessia just stared blankly at it, she didn’t have the words to say anything. she was speechless. “woah what happened to you-“ katie laughed as she seen your botched hair at the front.

“she’s given herself a fringe!” alessia smiled sarcastically as she was panicking what on earth was she supposed to do.

“ah nice, looks great!” katie grinned, you still with a big smug smile as you were really proud as the rest of the girls began to file in all with similar looks to their faces as the one your mummy had on her face when she first seen you. a look of shock horror.

“why have you done that lovie?” your mummy asked as you stood in front of your mummy sensing the fact she maybe wasn’t as happy with your hair dressing skills as you were.

“cause poppy has a fringe, i wanted one too!” you admitted, poppy was your best friend from school. the two of you were attached at the hip, always being the last in the line when it was it was pick up time because your too busy chatting with your best friend.

a small scoff came from alessia as she shook her head in pure disbelief, “well why didn’t you ask, mummy would have took you to the hairdressers!” you just shrugged, that idea hadn’t popped into your head, plus where was the fun in letting someone else do it.

you had plenty of experience, you had cut paper before, card, glitter paper and plenty of your barbie dolls hair. so how hard would it be cutting your own hair.

“what am i supposed to do with this now, do you think it’ll grow back?” alessia rattle out, panic laced her voice as she looked towards her friends for some advice. not knowing what her next move should be, maybe hiding every single pair of scissors that you could potentially get your tiny hands on.

“less it’s hair! not her limbs of course it’s going to grow back!” lotte deadpanned as alessia gave a look of realisation mumbling that what lotte said was a very valid point.

“well at least it’s not as bad as leah’s bangs!” beth joked as a gasp was heard from leah across the changing room.

“ay! mine are very nice thanks meado”

“okay, lord farquaad!”

“why don’t you maybe just take her to the hairdressers?” emily suggested with a shrug of the shoulders as she had watched the whole conversation pan out, wondering how alessia hadn’t already of thought of that or how nobody else had mentioned it yet.

“yes! foxy your a genius!” alessia jumped up as emily sat in disbelief. how had the blonde not thought to take you there.

and take you to the hairdressers is what alessia did, phoning a local hairdresser hoping they’d be able to squeeze you in to fix your botched fringe and luckily they could.

“so am i just fixing up this?” the young women asked as she pointed to your fringe as you sat in the chair with a cloak around you.

“yes, just do what you can” your mummy said sweetly as the young women cutting your hair nodded. spraying water on the fringe as small giggles came from you as the water drops fell onto your face.

your mummy watching intently as the women fixed up your fringe the women actually doing quite a good job at fixing it so it didn’t look as bad.

when the women was finished she looked towards your mummy for her validation, “yes! that looks better already” your mummy smiled as a sigh of relief came from the blonde.

“how long will it take to grow out?” alessia asked out of curiosity as the hairdresser took a look at your hair before finding an answer.

“typically around three to four months, just depends on how fast her hair grows really” the women told alessia as she hummed her top lip inbetween her teeth as she slowly nodded along with the words.

“fabulous.” your mummy whispered through gritted teeth.

alessia paid for you short haircut before receiving some advice on what to do if you alessia wanted your fringe out of your face, by putting it in clips and head bands in your hair.

your mummy lifting you back into your car seat as you sat happily with your new look, you liked your fringe. you didn’t understand why your mummy’s grump about it. you looked cool.

“and lovie, no using scissors when there’s not someone in the room with you- in fact just don’t use scissors” your mummy told you as she buckled you in as a small whine came from you.

“but- but what if i need to cut paper or-“

“tear it, rip it do anything but use the scissors!”

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Captain Price is completely oblivious to how attractive he is. Until Nikolai reminds him. For @lookoutrogue .

cw: none.

“He has no feckin’ idea,” Soap groused, slurping another mouthful of lager.

“Not a scooby. Pretty sure she could stick her tongue down his throat and he’d think she was lookin’ for advice on resuscitation technique.” Gaz slumped his chin into his palm and squinted.

“I mean, how’d’ye get tha’… oblivious?”

They had spent the last forty-five minutes since their arrival watching their captain entertain—or rather, be entertained by—a gaggle of young men and women seeking his attention. They were in one of those posh bars in central London where everyone seemed to want to get in everyone else’s knickers and it was nearly nine quid a pint. It was a bit bougie for their tastes, but it was one of the few places with a spare table near to where they needed to be.

“Dunno, but if she touches any further up his thigh she’s gonna end up grabbing a handful,” Gaz murmured, swirling the ice around in his gin and tonic.

“They’re hangin’ off his every word, like,” Soap threw his hand up in exasperation, “he’s talkin’ about sandin’ a feckin’ fence. Sanding. A. Fence. He ripped a lad’s throat open with a crowbar and rescued a foreign attaché of diplomats three days ago, but nope, it’s the Black and Decker that’s more interestin’.”

“That was a classified mission,” Ghost said quietly, cutting in with the low, unobstusive rumble that somehow snapped both Gaz and Soap to look at him. “Not exactly pick up line material.”

“Come off it, L.T. Like ye’ve never spun a yarn tae entertain,” Soap scoffed.

“Never.”

“Actually, I believe him,” Gaz said. “‘Sides, in that mask, it would come off more like a serial killer explainin’ how he’s gonna murder you than hot military hero. No offence, sir.”

“None taken.” Ghost sipped his bourbon and rolled said mask back down his face.

“Ye’ve known ‘im longes’,” Soap looked at Ghost, clearly desperate for answers, “has he always b’en like—“ he fluttered a hand in Price’s direction as the two young women and a fluffy looking twink hanging off his every word broke into raucous laughter at a joke that wasn’t even remotely funny, “—that.”

Ghost shrugged. “To get to where he is, he had to work hard. Gym, range, classroom, paperwork, mental preparation. You don’t graduate top of your class, praised to be the best in your field, by dossin’ around with skirt. Not a lot of time for… fraternising.”

“You have such a way with words, sir,” Gaz said, mildly amused.

Soap smirked wryly. “Aye, I c’n see that. But still, I c’n see why it took Nik a feckin’ decade. I wouldnae be surprised if he had tae be balls deep before—oh, hey, Nik! Over here!”

Soap stood to wave as a familiar looming figure in a brown leather jacket elbowed his way through the crowd, and spread his arms wide. “My brothers, you came!”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, mate,” Gaz said with a grin as he stood to receive the offered hug; Soap got a clap on the back of the shoulder and Ghost a shake of the hand. “So, how’d it go?” Gaz asked as he sat back down.

“Well,” Nik patted the right side of his jacket, slightly padded out with an envelope of paperwork, “it is official—I am now a British citizen.” Despite his smile, all three of them could see the sadness in his eyes. The kremlin had seen fit to strip his citizenship. He had said he was surprised it took them so long, but they had finally linked his alias, a face and a name on their records. It was difficult to maintain anonymity in retirement, so acquiring British citizenship had seemed the natural step to take given the last five years. He would always be Russian in body, heart and soul, but all three now belonged partly to someone else…

“Congratulations. We’re lucky to have you,” Ghost said, lifting his glass.

“Da, thank you,” Nik nodded, and then looked at the empty seats either side. “Where is the captain?”

“Holdin’ court,” Soap nodded towards the bar, “Ah’d get over there before he invites 'em over tae see his fish tank 'n loft conversion.”

Nik followed Soap's eye line and raised an eyebrow. He was a laid back man in most things, but when it came to John Price he had precisely zero chill. His back straightened and his shoulders squared, fingers twitching at his sides as he inspected the three people crowding around Price, lingering on the hand that was currently on his knee. “Please excuse me,” he said quietly.

Gaz smirked into his drink. “Get ‘em, mate.”

“Ahh, Nik!” Price beamed as he approached, swivelling on the bar stool to face him. “This is uhm… Jessica, was it? Derek and.. uh, sorry, I forg—Stacy? Stacy. I was just explainin’ how—mmph.”

Nik went straight in for the kiss without preamble. His hips slotted as easily between Price’s legs as their lips did together, his tongue sweeping into Price’s mouth to stake his claim. The hot flush went from the tips of Price’s ears to the v-neck of his t-shirt; he didn’t usually do public displays of affection, but Nik felt it was an equitable sanction. As he pulled away, Nik was happy to note that the three had drifted a little further down the bar, mumbling their excuses. Price didn’t notice; he only had eyes for Nik.

“What was that ‘bout?” Price croaked.

Nik hummed as he took Price’s left hand from his waist and held it up between their faces. “And here is the problem, no?”

“Ahh, Nik, it wasn’—I’m just—“

Nik ignored Price's flustered excuses as he grabbed the chain of his dog tags and pulled them from inside his shirt. The ring rattled softly against the stainless steel as Nik yanked the clasp open and extracted it from its customary place next to his heart. A lesser man might have thought ill of the whole thing, but it had been Nik’s idea; the risk of de-gloving on an op was high, and it would only get lost if shoved in a pocket or at the bottom of a duffel bag.

“It is better this way,” Nik had said softly late one night, “because they will bring it back to me if—“

“N’aw,” Price had replied, “I’ll always bring it back myself, right? Along with my sorry arse, no matter what state it’s in.” It had been an empty promise given Price’s job, but Nik had kissed the comfort from his lips as he’d said those words anyway.

At home, however, it went back on. Price was forgetful. Too much going on behind those pretty blue eyes to think of such a small adjustment. Nik slid the ring back onto Price’s hand and then kissed the back of his knuckles. “Better.”

“I forget, ’m sorry, that wasn’t—“

“I know,” Nik said. “But it will put off the predators.”

“Predators?”

“Johnathan, they were ready to eat you—vodka, on ice,” Nik glanced at the barman only briefly as he gave his order, returning to Price’s eyes as they glittered up at him.

“Eat m—? We were chattin’ about gardenin’.”

“You were discussing gardening, they were not here to discuss.”

Price’s mouth clicked shut. “Ah.”

“Ah, indeed.”

“Well, thanks for the exfil…”

Nik smirked. “Always.”

“How’d it go?”

Nik reached into his pocket and extracted a dark navy passport, flipping it open so Price could see the identity within—Nikolai Price, M, British Citizen.

“Well, bloody hell, would’ya look at that?” Price took it in both hands, thumb drifting over the photograph affectionately. “You know, I’m surprised you changed to your alias, and didn’t keep—“

“I am not that man anymore,” Nik said. “I am… everything we have built together, and will continue to build. I prefer it this way.”

Price smiled, folding the passport closed to slot it back inside Nik’s jacket. He studied Nik’s face closely, saw the sadness there but also the relief. His home had been taken from him the moment he had turned, but he had slowly, and at times painfully, built himself a new one. With Price. Fuck, they could be on the other side of the world, and Nik would still be ‘home’, because ‘home’ was a man, not a place, and Price had come round to the same line of thinking. It had just taken him a little longer to realise.

“I love you, Kolya,” Price said softly.

Now it was Nik’s turn to flush, his cheeks tinging a soft pink as he processed the open affection he was still growing accustomed to. “And I you, captain.”

“Oi, lovebirds, use that officer’s salary and get a round in, L.T.’s bein’ a tight-fisted bastart!’

Nik chuckled and reached into his pocket for his wallet. “This one is on me, as they say.”

“I’ll take a double scotch then. We’ve got some celebratin’ t’do.”

“Ofiget… da, da, barman!”

[matchadobo]

HEYY! I ADORE UR FICS WWWWWWWWWW Can i request the fantasy prompt with the dialogue 2? The knight and queen one. I think a little angst would be nice if you can add it hehe I'm so excited for this, thank you! :)

KIDD; queen!name x knight captain!kidd

🌷matchadobo's 500 followers event🌷

wc: 3937

dialogue: "it'd be unbecoming for the captain of my knights to get caught sneaking out of my chambers at dawn, is it not?"

warning/s: nsfw🔞 (mild but seggs still mentioned), afab reader, royalty au, angst (this was pretty mild) w/ happy ending, arranged marriage

"mornin'." you hear him mutter on your skin, his warm breath and wet lips pulling you awake. you flutter your eyes open, turning to your side to face him.

"what time is it?" you stretched on the bed, whining as you felt your lower half be quite sore. he sat up reaching for the clock on your side of the table to flip it up.

"a little more and i'll get caught by your maids. guess i better go, aye?" he placed a light kiss on your temples before hopping out of your thick blankets. only to be pulled by you back to the bed, mewling on his frame as your lips searched for his face and reached for a kiss.

"that so?" you mumbled with a smile before connecting your lips with him. he grinned through it as well, placing his arm beside your head so he could prop himself up. because he couldn't bring himself to latch off you, especially with your tugs on his locks.

"hm? this is new, her majesty's all clingy." he teased, biting playfully on your lower lip. "usually you throw me out soon as you open your eyes. 's the matter? did i do that great last night?"

"you were extraordinary, captain." you played into his jokes, laughing subtly with him as you let him go and sat up to stretch your arms.

"but really, i must go. mornin' trainin' for your knights. plus, i could use a lotta breakfast. i'm all used up from last night." he placed one last kiss on your shoulder before finally getting off your massive bed. you hummed in agreement.

"it'd be unbecoming for the captain of my knights to get caught sneaking out of my chambers at dawn, is it not?"

he looked over his shoulder as he stopped midway while slipping into his sleepwear. "have i woke up on the wrong side of the bed or are you eager to have me back in there with ya?" he laughed a little, puzzled at your response.

"have you back in here? oh captain, i'd rather have your ass in the barracks, straightening up my military. can't have my country in the least bit vulnerable." you dismissed, getting off the bed to fetch your robe since your sleepwear was quite literally translucent. plus, mornings were really cold.

"sounds like you're gonna miss me, though?" he snaked an arm around you, biting the neckline of your robe as an attempt to take it off and start something to somewhat alleviate the tent in his pants as he saw you got out of the bed.

you smiled leaning into his touch for a moment but opted to latch off of him as a means to not get carried away like you always do. you turned to your side only to have you trapped in his embrace. you kissed each other, small pecks with playful smiles and grabby hands.

"miss? i think that's more on you than me." you finally latched yourself off of him, excusing yourself to the bathroom. "maids arrive at 6, i think you have 10 more seconds."

kidd heard the routinely glide of the wheels down the halls, signaling your tray of breakfast is just around the corner. he gave you one last grin before sneaking off the window where he usually goes when he slept a little to much with you. you hear him fall down by the bushes, its rustles giving you giggles simultaneous with the arrival of your breakfast.

and that's how it usually goes with him. he crawls into your bed at evening, all worn out from training and his captainly duties. wounds fresh and grime and sweat sticking on his snowy skin. you'd be lying on the bed in your sleepwear, expecting his arrival as you eyed him up and down with his usual armor discarded.

during those nights, you weren't the queen nor was he captain of the royal knights. you two are lovers with your limbs intertwined, skin sweaty against each other's lips. you'd be one in your sheets, fucking till dawn and drawing stories about your walks on life. all the while, skin on skin against one another as one of you rubs figures on the span of the other's torso.

but it never went past that. only when the sun sleeps and the moon remains is when you love each other. it's bitter yet sweet, those nights were something to look forward to. it was a regular thing. outside of your chambers, you two are nothing but a part of the nation's government. neither of you really confronted the burning question that is your relationship.

yet when he was called on for council on your arranged marriage to your allied country, his heart had dropped.

he arrived late, but he met your eyes as you sat by the head of the table from across the room. eyes darting on the handsome bastard holding your hand. you had a perturbed face, as if very uncomfortable at his arrival or was it the jackass feeling you up?

but kidd knew one thing, that shit hurted. he knew it would happen eventually, a queen shall need a king and be bethroted. never had he thought he'd see it so soon. but what right does a mere knight have?

"what kept you, captain?" one of the nobles of the crown had comically asked the frazzled captain.

"took out a few maniacs in town, pardon me for disturbing your little tea party here. carry on." he cleared his throat, excusing himself to a seat far from you that was reserved for his position. it was nothing sort of unusual for the captain to have such a caustic approach, so everyone rolled it off as a chuckle.

but not you. he had a bitter gaze on you. his fingertips grazing the handle of the teacup prepared for him as he anxiously listened in the council.

"her majesty is set to be wed with the prince of the west blue a week from now, i think it's safe to say that preparations must be underway." one bloke started while the others agreed with him.

"i'm elated to announce that my kingdom has already planned ahead for the royal wedding. i hope it's not too forward for you, my queen, to say that the wedding shall occur on west blue?" the handsome nitwit suggested, a foolish smile on his face as he consulted you. oh it irked you.

before you could open your mouth and cause problems, kidd had done it for you. like he usually does in saving your ass multiple times. "it is forward. having the marriage on west blue is asking for too much, seeing that a queen must stay at her territory." he interjected, voice firm as he held eye contact with the clueless fool that is your fianceé. "moreover, suggesting a queen leave her country and possibly put the country in danger is unfavorable for the south." he continued, "your royal highness." he added with a cutting tone, almost against his will.

sensing the tension, one of the council members stepped in. "oh i assume the prince just wants to welcome her majesty to the west? a little customary for the bride, perhaps?" the fool was too stunned at kidd's response to even agree.

"you're the captain of the south's knights, are you?" the prince stepped in, gesturing to kidd who had a sharp but subtle glare at him. "would you be so valiant in taking charge for the south, then? i'm sure her majesty would love a day off, especially on her wedding day."

"somethin' so unique about you that you want to decide everything for her majesty now, aye? your royal highness."

it was stifling. the atmosphere is thick you had to adjust your corset. he and the prince were in a sort of staring contest. kidd had a smirk, a grin as if he was so proud of himself for unobtrusively embarrassing the prince. the poor thing was fuming and had his fists tight on his lap.

"enough. give me time to think. although, kidd is right. abandoning my country even for a day is something i never will voluntary do." you asserted, and order was established once more. "i appreciate the gesture, your royal highness. but i must honor my post here. save your preparations, though? wouldn't want it to go to waste." you ended with a kind, bitter smile.

the bastard had a half-assed smile to you, looking back at kidd like he won. when in fact, he lost. and kidd made you feel that ticklish sensation once more, like a flame scorching on your stomach.

as soon as everyone started getting up to leave, you spoke amidst the shuffling of clothes. "not you, captain. i'd like to have a word."

the prince snickered, an annoying tug on his lips as he bumped shoulders on his way out with kidd. somewhat rejoicing at what you declared.

kidd looked at you pissed. hollowing his cheeks as he sauntered towards you and raised a brow. he sat down at the edge of the table nearest to you, waiting for you to berate him.

"gonna punish me for snarkin' at that pompous arse? the hell do you want me to do? dally about while he-" you stood up and grabbed him at the back of his neck to kiss him before he carried on with his protests. he grinned through the kiss, hands flying to untie your corset. but you pulled away, feeling his advances.

"that was so attractive." you wiped off your smudged lipstick. "but dare do that again and i'll have you in the pit with no food." you hit his head lightly.

"tch. you seriously gonna marry that, pillock? he's a bag of shit." he crossed his arms, rolling his eyes. "it ain't too late to cut off his head, i'll do the honors."

"yes, i know you don't like him. neither do i." you sat back down, defeated on your chair. "you know why i got to though. west relations are looking weak, especially border conflicts." you rubbed your temples, sighing as you recall the tireless meetings you have to sit through.

"want to put that stress to somethin' else?" he suggested, getting closer to you. only to get pushed away with a weak laugh.

"get back to work, you insatiable bloke."

the rest of the day passed as usual. stolen glances across the large windows as he looks up at you from the barracks and you over the balcony of your towers.

but when evening came and kidd hadn't seen you enter your chambers, he found it strange. he was half-expecting for you two to continue your nightly adventures since he finished with his duties early. it's already past 10 and you're still gone.

he started asking the maids but they have claimed that you were in the dining room with that prince who refused to get back to his country if he hadn't had dinner and wine with the queen. sounds like a bastard with plans, bad ones.

in the nick of time before you finish the whole bottle of wine you clutched close to your chest, staining your dress, kidd had already snatched it off your hands.

"oh, hello captain." you smiled, waving at him. clearly inebriated.

"your father told me to fetch you, your majesty." kidd placed the bottle down, eyeing the prince who was getting a little to comfortable with you.

"didn't know a knight is needed for a quaint dinner with the future king."

"think it does. especially when the queen is half out of her mind. your royal highness."

if it wasn't for you vomiting on the prince's clothes, they wouldn't physically stop barking at each other. the prince exclaimed in disgust, shaking of his arm with a sour face. all kidd could display was a grin as he gloat with the misfortune of the prince.

"father's orders." he smiled wryly, carrying you bridal style. honestly he'd manhandle your frame across his shoulders easily but he knew carrying you like this would piss the prince off more.

"you're one damn meddly knight, are you not? tch, you'll serve me in no time, remember that." the prince bit off as more of a threat than a statement. it made the vein on kidd's forehead twitch.

"tell you what, your royal fucking highness. if it's the queen, i'm in no damn business to screw around. especially with a crapheaded jackass like you, i am in no way ever leaving the queen in your hands. i have the authority and guarantee of her protection. a foppish like you is but an embarrassment." he said through gritted teeth, towering over him with you on his arms. "so i will meddle however the fuck i want."

"you're just a bloody lowborn with heaps of metal and a preposterous title. you're all bark. you dare speak to the prince that way? besides, how is it any of your bloody business what we do? she's gonna be bethroted to me, i'll have no need for permission on what i shall do to her."

oh kidd has had enough. kidd placed you down back on your chair before throwing in a punch at the prince, who was instantly knocked out upon his impact. his eye brusing and nose gushing out blood as he coughed nonstop, rolling on the floor as he gasped for air. how embarrassing.

without looking back, kidd carried you back to his chambers. he knows the consequences; the nation and you. you'd be the most disappointed to him above all. but he's undeterred, especially when it comes to you. who knows what could've happened if he hadn't came?

kidd placed you down your bed. he wet a towel by your sink to wipe off your chin and cheeks with vomit residue as you snored to dreamland.

"i'd get an earful from you when you open your bloody eyes, won't i?" he snickered, dabbing the cloth gently as he admired how you look from the faint lantern on your bedside table.

"you fucking what?!"

"he got on my nerves. that prince has got a foul fuckin' mouth. he's got dirty little plans for you, name." he sat bashfully down the bed as you paced around the room.

"why would you punch the prince?! he hasn't woken up! what if they throw arms against south?! this is what frustrates me the most about you kidd, you act without fucking thinking!" you bit at your nails, going uneasy as a thousand other scenarios of chaos appeared in your mind.

"i half expected a nagging but a thank you would be nice." he shrugged, running his fingers through his hair.

"a thank you?! for starting a war?!" you look at him baffled such a thing would cross his mind after what he did.

"it won't be a war. the prince is way too head over heels for you. and they're outnumbered, south has got allies and all they've got are tanks."

"is this about the matrimony? are you so against it that you have to cause an international chaos?" you pushed him by the shoulders and he loosely budged, letting you hurt him a little.

kidd was hesitant to answer. he always was about your relationship. he feels possessive towards you even though you just keep your beds warm, make momentary love. he's well aware that it's only up to that point. he's a lowborn and you're a queen. that much is more than enough to tell you two will never be a thing.

"you know what? take a week off, kidd. i'll have to suspend your duties. killer will take charge. it's best if you don't attend the wedding." you sat on the other side of the bed in defeat, pinching the bridge of your nose.

"what the fuck, name?"

"oh you have no right to violently react after you beat my fianceé up."

the tension was tight. glares and nostrils fuming at the quick exchange of ill intent. this was more than just a banter, it's turning into a fight. and the two of you know better than to keep it going. but it's going to explode in kidd's chest, it's only a matter of time before everything spills out.

but orders are orders. and kidd has never refused an order from you. he spitefully left, armor clanking in chorus with the vein twitching in his forehead. at this point, he wanted to beat the shit out of that prince more.

"...k-kidd, wait." you hesitated, second guessing if you really should. kidd stopped in his tracks.

"this is the only way, yeah? i get that. 's always been like that. royal bullshit, aye?"he said without turning around. you can hear the pain in his voice but it did not waver, his tone was just a bit scorned. "it's all for the damn crown."

a lot of time has passed now and it's the longest that had gone by without you two speaking to each other. tomorrow is your wedding day and you wanted one last chance to see kidd because you hadn't seen him since then.

but it's only a matter of time before your selfishness prevails. you were suffocating with the thought of not seeing him. to push through with this marriage. so you went out at night to see him.

and just when things could get any more unfortunate, rain started pouring and you got wet. after you took your time fixing yourself up for him, just to get drenched on your way.

and when you're finally there, there was a long time where you just stood in front of the door of his house. your hand hanging as you hesitated to knock. you kept getting drenched. shivering as you reluctantly tried knocking and facing him. then you just said fuck it.

"it's this fuckin' late, is it that imp-" he had his shirt off and his pants loose, his hair disheveled like he just got off the bed.

yet all this time of thinking and being alone to yourself, you couldn't say a single word to him. all you could muster was the tears flowing down your already damp cheeks. your lips quivering, begging to say anything, just anything at all.

before you could finally speak, kidd pulled you by the wrist with one hand while the other on the back of your neck. "are you fuckin' nuts? you wanna get a fever before you get married?" he mumbled to you, embracing tight as you sobbed on his chest with a tight hug on his waist.

he reached behind you to shut his door and it got quiet. his heartbeat dominated your senses, which was ultimately as fast as yours. you kept muttering sorries.

"don't. your eyes'll be swollen for your wedding." he said yet he kept brushing your hair, palm sweeping down the strands of your hair. "you'd hate that, aye?"

you sniffled, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. trying to get a hold of yourself.

"it's damn near midnight. ain't the castle lookin' for you?" he let you go, fetching a blanket from his couch to dry up your hair and cover you up.

but you don't know what came over you. somehow your restraints came off and you threw yourself to him, connecting your lips with him. was it his warmth? was it the yearning for several days? or was it the way he looked at you with the same eyes he usually does under the dim light of your chambers?

and he was guilty too, he was hungry for you. he got to work to helping you wiggle off your clothes, carrying you as he wrapped your legs around his waist. he grinned in your lips before slamming you down his bed. "came all this way 'ere for a fuck? never thought the queen would-"

"shut up." you grabbed the back of his neck to kiss him again. you don't wanna hear it, you want him in you already.

it's that void he left when you dismissed him. you must've mistook it for the itch of him every night. but really, you wanted him close. you want to feel the warmth of skin as he pushed your waist towards his scarred torso. the feel of his wet lips on your mounds as you pushed his head further to your chest. you never want to let his hand go when he intertwined his fingers with yours and placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

when you exchanged breaths as he slides himself in, your fingernails grazing on his back when he completely pushed himself in. he pressed foreheads with you before bucking his hips, smiling as you tried stifling a moan.

and it went on for hours. until the bed creaked. until the mattress was damp. until your voice croaked his name an uncountable number of times. until you two lost stamina from being sex-starved idiots.

"i love you, kidd." you said as you lie naked in his sheets, wrapped up in his arms and blanket. you two had just finished. your foreheads sweaty and your limbs tired.

kidd's head snapped to the side to look at you, completely shocked at your sudden statement as you looked earnestly into his eyes.

"tch, beat me too it." he placed his arm behind his head as you snuggled to him. "i long for you the most, my queen."

"i'm sorry." you chuckled bitterly, looking up at him. "i should leave by dawn."

kidd reached down for a kiss, smiling on your lips before kissing on your nose. "instead of saying sorry, you still have until your deadline. your majesty."

you left when he was still sleeping. soundly as he snuggled up to you. you shook off his grip, picked up your clothes, gave him one last kiss on his forehead, and left his house before the sun rose.

but he was awake the entire time. it took everything in him to not stop you and pull you back to bed. the fading of your warmth and cologne left him hollow and cold. he sat up after you left, watching you cautiously make your way back to the castle. seeing the love of his life go. he couldn't go back to sleep after and popped open a bottle of scotch.

you stand before a mirror. the compliments given to you by the maids remained dulled by your ears, as you saw nothing but a lone rose encaged in a glass. what was once a dream you fantasized with the man who once seized your heart, was now a fleeting moment for a bride such as yourself.

"you sure about this, name?" your father mumbled to you as you waited for the entourage to finish and the church doors to open.

you looked at him with a shocked look, eyes dull as you alternated between your father's knowing ones.

"you know what kidd told me when you two were young? too young to know the difference between the two of you." he started, holding your shoulders so you're facing him. "he said that one day, he'd be the one waiting down there for you."

you dropped your bouquet of tulips, almost shaken at what your dad said. "he did?"

he nodded. "and he plans on staying true to his promise." he gestured to the back, asking you to look behind you.

"i ain't plannin' to just be your captain, name. i've got to fuckin' marry you."

omg 😳

hello anon! thank you for the request, i hope u'll enjoy this 🥰🌷! i'm not really good with angst soooo pls don't eat me 🙇‍♀️

i have exams! 😭 i have a shit ton to study mygooood so i kinda struggled doing this. nevertheless, i hope it was worth it! i had fun imagining kidd as a knight heheeheh 🤣😍 i'm also looking forward to my other fic requests, it's still not too late to request guuuys 👉👈

if you guys are interested in requesting a fic for my 500 followers event, my askbox is open! click here for the main event post for more info :DD i have open slots for forced proximity, hurt to comfort, fantasy, he puts you in your place (smut), and modern aus!

[intheshadowsbehindyou]

Hey I've been wanting to ask you for a while a request I've had. Can I have some headcanons of the mercenary's realizing their feelings for the 10th merc after they brutally bash in a enemy's skull in for trying to kill said merc. And then the 10th merc looks at them with extreme concern while checking up on them. Before turning around and killing another enemy that was about to kill them.

I would love to see the mercenary's reaction to being saved by their crush and having to deal with the horny panic of finding them attractive.

If you dont want to do this that's fine. Thanks again for making really good tf2 x reader content! I love it! Byebye have a good day/night.

The Mercs realizing they have feelings for Y/N after watching them brutally kill an enemy (NSFW)

WARNING: severe amounts of simping

Scout:

- Oh. Oh.. OH. OHH NOOO! OUR SCOUUTTT. HE’S BROKKEEENNN

- You look so dazzling with the blood on your clothes and the rockets whizzing past you. The explosions in the background creating a fine backdrop. Cue the cheesy romantic 40s music as you kill people in slow motion and Scout is in awe.

- You’re confused. He had been standing there even after you had successfully cleared the point. You wave your hand in front of his face and he doesn’t react.

- In his head he’s already having romantic fantasies of frolicking with you on the beach and bashing in people’s heads. The idea of you beating the shit out of him particularly makes him feel a certain way. He has no idea why. Oh god, is this normal? Wait.. Why is he already having thoughts of marrying you and growing old together?

- Immediately goes whining to Spy like a little pussy about you. He’s batshit scared of you but also has the most confusing boner. Good job. You sent him crying after his daddy. You hear a “SPYYYYYYYYYYYeeeEEEE!” as you leave the battlefield. Followed by a groan from said frenchman.

———————————————————————-

Soldier:

“NOW HANG ON PRIVATE THATS NOT EXACTLY— Oh.. Ah..” Soldier hisses through his teeth and puts his fist to his mouth, his helmet falls back a bit from the impact you made of kicking an enemy demoman’s sticky bomb back to him. You can see his expression is incredibly conflicted about this. With mild arousal. Holy shit. Somebody as batshit crazy as him. Who the hell kicks an active explosive?

- Because on one hand, you’re impractical yet affective at what you do. Just like him. But on the other hand that’s HIS THING. NOT YOURS! He’s one to act incredibly erratic on many occasions when strategy is in the back of his head awaiting the stupidly fast yet eons long conveyor belt.

- Becomes incredibly infatuated by you on the spot. Creating a sort of vague idea in his head on what you could be like. Cue very vivid fantasies of you and him strangling a sumo wrestler while naked, claiming france as an American owned country for some reason by sticking the flag into the tip of the Eiffel tower while naked, and having a fine American breakfast on the deck of your cottage.. (while naked.)

- “Is that a pistol in your pants or are you just happy to see me?” You ask him afterwards. “NEGATIVE. THAT’S A ROCKET. I ran out of room.” He lies. You believe him because that sounds like something he’d do.

———————————————————————-

Demoman:

- You destroy a sentry nest he was trying to demolish around a choke point. He’s both offended, and slightly attracted. You’ve destroyed his pride and humbled him. Normally Demoman is the only one who can take down a sentry nest unless Medic has full charge on somebody — among other things.

- He opens his mouth to protest but you silence him with an award winning smile that makes his heart flutter. As you run past him to head over to Medic and regain your strength, he’s scratching his stubble. Trying to comprehend the slurry of feelings. Demoman is an adult and he’s old enough to be fully aware that you can feel multiple emotions at once; that doesn’t make him any less disoriented though.

- “Ay.. finally somebody who’s on my level!” he calls after you. Promising he’ll outrank you next round. His competitive nature demands it. He’s trying so hard to ignore his boner right now. Assuming it to be just from adrenaline.

- Well, you’re tied. You’re both equal amounts on the next scoreboard. He stares at it on the intel computer terminals in disbelief. He immediately downs a shit load of his scrumpy. Holy shit. He has a massive crush on you now. Begins to wonder how drunk he can get before he forgets about this.

———————————————————————-

Engineer:

- You distract him so much he doesn’t even realize the jammed shell in his shotgun at first. You’ve made him lose like half of his life experience in a fraction of a second and he tries to take out the jammed shell and ends up burning himself. “God. DANGIT.”

- inwardly embarrassed and trying to make it seem like all was normal; he slaps the back of the gun so the shell falls out. Continues trying to defend the points… emphasis on tries. You’re his type AND you’re blood thirsty. He can’t help but feel slightly intrigued. The sparks of what would eventually be a crush once he starts talking to you more.

- He can’t bring himself to think filthy thoughts of someone he just met, he wasn’t raised like that. Occasionally the thought crosses his mind and he becomes a little angry with himself. Please stop being sexy in front of somebody who was raised in the bible belt. PLEASE! he would beg you if it didn’t sound so weird out of context.

- Fuck it. Christian shame doesn’t beat nature. He has to jerk off to the thought of you after battles in the shower. You’ve fucked him up.

—————————————————————————

Heavy:

- “Heavy, i’m fully charged. Focus on the soldiers in the front and tell me when to— Was zur Hölle?!” Medic complains, looking away from Heavy’s WAY too apparent hard on.

- Heavy would make a great ice sculpture right now. He’s both sweating and frozen in place as he watches you tear the enemy lines to shreds. He rarely feels this way for anybody at all. Heavy was certain his libido evened out as he got older but you just brought him back to square one. He felt like a horny teenager again.

- He wants to lick the blood off your neck so bad. It’s disgraceful. He feels like a disgusting sewage pipe and suddenly wishes the respawn machine didn’t exist so he could permanently die out here just to forget this even happened.

- Eventually waves his hand for Medic to pocket someone else. Goes over and helps you kick some ass. You indirectly both bond from this and successfully kickstart your connection.

———————————————————————-

Pyro:

- You’re the same as them in their point of view. A ‘misunderstood’ killer (Yeah, okay..) who wanted nothing more than peace of mind while they went about their daily business!

- The enjoy he sees in your eyes as you land a hit is marvelous. Every single swing of your melee felt like some sort of complex ballet. There was birds and neon colors following you wherever you went. You’ve now given them a weird fetish for adept mercenaries they had no idea they even had. They want to meet you RIGHT NOW.

- air blasts a poor demoman off a cliff you were fighting. “Hey. It’s alright. I got this.” You tell them. Pyro just tilts their head. You walk on to cap the cart and Pyro follows closely behind you. “What’s up?” You finally ask him, out of curiosity. Pyro just stares. You begin to recall horror stories that the other mercs told you of Pyro.

- They continue following you around as your own personal bodyguard. Engineer tells you that he does the same to him on occasion. To the extent of protecting his sentries. Apparently Pyro just follows people around like a dog because they have no idea how to communicate their interest.

—————————————————————————

Sniper:

- Watches you a day before a match doing target practice atop a bridge. The targets in question are in the ravine below. The way you so effortlessly hit each target, only missing a few — for some reason caught his attention. He lowered his scope from his eye and preferred the entertainment of you for a moment.

- You get angry after only missing two. Taking your long range and throwing it aggressively into the ravine. Sniper has no clue why you did this, considering you’re the first person in a while who hasn’t fucked up this course right off the bat. For some reason your aggression is getting him hot and bothered. Is this just a weird preference or a sexual thing? Holy shit, he has no idea.

- Sniper brings his legs together to hide his wood. “Eyes both open with a gun like that, mate. Instinctive to close an eye but I guarantee you, if ya just focus on nothing but the target then boom.” He says. Wondering if maybe he was just overthinking and his penis was being insane.

- “As if you shoot with anything else besides a fucking sniper rifle.” You talk back. “I do, actually.” He says, shrugging at your rage. He didn’t feel like sassing back right now. He was tired. “I could show ya if ya want.”

- He bites his lip, applying pressure to the point it’s red. It was both your bad attitude and shooting skills. He loved a partner who was needlessly edgy. This is seriously the type of guy to swoon over the most edgiest of individuals. Eat nails for breakfast and wear a biker vest for god’s sake while you’re at it.

———————————————————————

Medic:

- Uhm.. Medic’s a little weird.

- Not only is he aroused by you in general but the blood on your clothes and in your hair. The way you kill enemies in-and-itself is arousing him. Much like Engineer he tries to focus on his job to no avail. Ends up pocketing you all day and after the other Mercs ask him about it, he claims it’s because they’re all annoying and not doing their jobs correctly again.

- He sits at his desk at night trying to do paperwork. He can’t focus after what he’s seen today. He begins having incredibly fucked up fantasies of eating your organs. Or you climbing into his chest and sleeping in there. Better yet? sex with both your entrails hanging out! knife play! biting! Dear god he’s gross. God, just shut up.

- He puts a hand to his own heart, feeling his heartbeat. For a second he suspected he was getting possessed or something. But no, he’s just incredibly horny. “Archimedes.” Medic said breathlessly. “I do believe i’m moonstruck. Which is unacceptable..” He sort of laughs nervously.

- Coooo. Brrr.

- “Yes, I wholeheartedly agree.” His voice is hoarse. Medic picks up his bonesaw at the end of his table and looks at his own reflection in it. “Every time I love somebody it ends horribly. Best just get what I want and move on.” He says, darkly. What he doesn’t know is that this is the start of his relationship with you. Enticing you to have sex with him — with your consent — it brings you and him to an incredibly intimate level.

————————————————————-

Spy:

- MOTHERFUCKER AINT PLAYIN. he doesn’t waste time. He sees a fellow serial killer and he immediately goes in for the kill. (Pun intended.) But yeah this is Spy we’re talking about here. He’s a manwhore and I thought the canon already established that.

- “That was some fine work out there.” He tells you slowly. His hands behind his back. “Would you care to join me for a second?” He offers his hand. Which you take hesitantly. He takes you to his quarters and attempts to court you. Which works because he’s something straight out of a romance movie with his clever quips.

- “I have a feeling—“ He begins, slowly offering his hand and hovering it above your thigh, placing it down and rubbing you slowly when he didn’t sense any discomfort. “That we will enjoy each other’s company often, my pet.” He looks for your approval. Any sign of it.

- Dude is so fucking slick that you can’t resist him. He’s unbelievably experienced in romance and knows how to charm his way into your pants. It was like you were under a spell by a hypnotic snake. He ends up getting what he wants and doesn’t hold back. His knife is threatening your back and he’s atop you. “Shhh.”

- Sex happens. Aggressive sex. Right off the bat.

[jungwnies]

syn ' how enhypen would comfort you when you're afraid of flying on a plane ✈️ pairing ' bf!enhypen x gn!reader

word count ' 0.8k (almost equally split between members)

requested! hey!! could u make some enhypen headcanons, how the members would comfort their s/o, who is afraid of flying on a plane? btw I really like your writing style&lt;3 (thank you so much!)

이희승 ' lee heeseung

he let's you sit on the outside seat especially because it's closest to the aisle and if you needed to breathe or just walk even to the bathroom you'd be able to easily go

holds your hand the whole time

probably in first class or business to be honest, but still makes sure you're as comfortable as you can possibly be

brings headphones for you and him because you can share audios through bluetooth

puts on something comforting on the little screen, probably asks if they have one of your favorite movies so you can keep your mind off the fact you're thousands of feet in the air flying thousands of miles away from your home

literally holds your hand the whole LIKE FR FR i can't stress this enough

his presence is so calming you probably fall asleep on him feeling safe because no matter what happens he's literally right next you

rest of the members under the cut!

박종성 ' park jay

obviously you both are in first class

holds your hand the whole time

has an arm around you the whole time

when you guys are taking off he distracts you

or whenever there is turbulence he distracts you

and during landing he also distracts you

he makes sure that you're able to sleep if it's a long flight

literally promises to not leave your side

if he has to use the bathroom i guess you're tagging along

makes a playlist for the two of you to listen to and downloads some movie on netflix before boarding so you guys can watch it because airplane mode is a bitch

but again, he's first class so he probably has wi-fi

심재윤 ' sim jake

the way he brings you a support plushie

why is he so sweet

also makes a playlist for the two of you

holds your hand the whole time or keeps an arm locked with yours

leans his head on your shoulder or lets you lean your head on his shoulder

he’s like a human version of a comfort plushy

doesn’t leave your side the whole ride

doesn’t even use the bathroom because he went before the plane ride

always asked if you were hungry or needed anything

if you ever got scared he would always give you his full undivided attention

even if he had to work on something while on the plane to prepare he’d put it aside for you

박성훈 ' park sunghoon

i love sunghoon but he’s the type to just not understand why you’re so scared of planes 😭

obviously he’d comfort you but he’d still be so confused on why

he lets you hold his hand or lean on him

even though he doesn’t understand he still cares and makes sure you’re okay

bro is the definition of “i don’t understand but i love you”

he’s just never sure of how he feels BUT anyways

he promised to be the person you can lean on whenever you’re scared, sad, or even happy

and that’s what he’ll do on the plane

he will stick by your side until it’s over and promise you everything will be alright because he’s right there

김선우 ' kim sunoo

opposite of sunghoon

completely understands your scared

literally comes prepared

brings the most comforting items on his carry on so he can distract you from the fact you guys are hundreds if not thousands of feet in the air

brings face masks and makes tiktok’s with you about the skin care routine for his private LMFAO

will make you smile the whole time

sunoo will literally make you forget you’re on the plane because of how comforting his presence simply is

promises you that everything will be alright

and that it’ll be over soon

as long as you’re on the plane with sunoo everything is aye okay

양정원 ' yang jungwon

i feel like this is starting to get repetitive

but this boy is here for you through thick and thin

he will be your fucking shoulder

your fucking pILLOW on that plane

he will make sure you're okay

he has leader qualities, it would be unlike him to not care for you

he always asks you how your doing

asks if you need anything

he is CONCERNED

he wants you to be calm so he always lets you hold his hand

or grab onto his arm

he doesn't care

as long as you feel safe on that plane he is happy

西村 力 ' nishimura riki

he's low key like sunghoon in this situation

he doesn't understand why you're scared

but he cares so he will do everything to make sure you're safe

he jokes with you a lot on the plane

low key people side-eyed because why are you guys laughing every 5 minutes?

he gets your mind off the plane ride because of how much he makes you laugh tbh

he also lets you sleep on his shoulder if it's a long plane ride

he's not as confused as sunghoon on why you don't like planes

riki is low key really good at comforting you, more than he knows tbh

2022 © jungwnies thank you for reading and the lovely request - reblogs are appreciated

[loveindefinitely]

O b s e s s e d with need to listen to me. I can't get it out of my head.

I mostly can't stop thinking of soap who is so disgruntled and moody after the whole ordeal. Just absolutely pent up, so he starts acting out, snapping, talking back, that sort of thing. As promised price extends his punishment and it only breaks soap down more and more until finally he's sobbing and begging price to please do Something.

I have no idea where to go from here I just love the mental image of soap acting out when he doesn't get what he wants, maybe price extends ghost and gaz's punishments as well. Says something like "you can thank him for this" and now they're All huffy and upset.

Reader's the only one who is spared so they take out their frustration on her.

Ok i'm done thank you so much have a good day

-🐭

you are a GENIUS omg. ily. this is sososo canon in this mini poly141 verse.

warning. nsfw drabble (cont. ntltm)

because you're so right. soap would be a total bitch afterwards. needy and pent up and kinda jealous that you two are the only ones that got to get off, even though he put so much effort into eating you out. homeboy is stressed.

cue the next morning, where he's grumpy, whiney and just overall being a frustrating guy to be around.

ghost is in the kitchen, fixing up breakfast in the mess, and soap would just come up behind him, nuzzling his head into his neck and pressing his dick against simon. rutting into him kinda, before ghost shoots him a vicious glare. he backs off.

but then, he sees gaz walking in, and he rushes over to him, pulling him into a deep hug. one that was a bit too much for their usual morning interactions.

that's when you stumble in, weary eyed and still kinda lethargic from last night's ordeal.

and soap's not mad, not really, but he's frustrated that you got the better end of the deal.

so, he pulls you in, hands at your hips, before he's assaulting your mouth with feverish kisses. they're frantic, and you can feel how hard he is where it presses against your stomach. you try and pull away, and when you do, the man huffs like a disgruntled pup.

when it's price who comes in next, soap is pissed off beyond relief.

rising a brow, a challenging one, price would ask how he slept. soap would roll his eyes and mutter something under his breath that would have your eyes blowing wide, a little shocked, a little dismayed.

gaz would blow out a deep exhale, extracting himself from the situation, walking quietly over to ghost. which, for once, would be the safest option out of you four.

and price would narrow his eyes, daring soap to keep up his pissy attitude. soap would, of course, because this man has absolutely ZERO self preservation skills.

he'd then have the nerve to ask if he can bend you over the kitchen counter and fuck you. just, openly asking, as if you yourself aren't standing right there.

price would simply tell him that he won't be allowed to stick his dick in anything for the rest of the week.

then, he'd stride over to the other two men without another word, tell them the same thing, and get to work cutting up some spinach.

and you'd be left there, gaping, confused, as soap stands with a similar expression. as if he wasn't fully aware that his actions held consequences, and he really shouldn't have been such a brat after last night.

he'd narrow his eyes at you, snarky, saying something about how you yet again evaded punishment.

say something about how price 'dinnae said nothin' 'bout bendin' ye over, aye?" and he'd forcefully bend you over the table, rutting into your back like a mutt, using your body without inserting anything anywhere.

and, with a moment of clarity, you'd realise that gaz and ghost are watching, with a glint of envy in their eyes.

you'd been in for a long week.

this is absolutely shit btw because halfway through writing this my BED BROKE and i think i may have also broken my toe. so this is coming from a place of pain and distress. great idea tho !! thanks for enjoying my writing mwah mwah

[totaly-obsessed]

Hi! Can you do a Mary earps and reader fic where the reader is England medic or coach and all the team love her and Mary is soooo proud and in love but also wants all the attention from her girl plwaseeee

Comfort

Mary Earps x reader request

-> Reader is the Lionesses medic, and also Mary's wife

-> Talk of Alex Greenwood's recent injury

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Mary loved National Camp – all her friends playing together, representing their country. But her favorite thing about it? Being with you 24/7.

As one of the teams’ medics and physios, you accompanied them to every training and game, wearing your wife’s jersey beneath the team jacket. And it was not one of the shirts that you can buy, but one of Mary’s personal ones, one from the euros. So not only were you a good-luck charm but you were also wearing one.

Mornings at Saint George’s Park were your second favorite, right behind breakfast in bed with Mary. While you definitely were not a morning person, your wife was and the early training start didn’t help you either, so at eight in the morning, you were sat at a table in the dining hall – a steamy cup of coffee in front of you, just as you liked it. Mary had given it to you when you returned from your shared room, having to go back because you had forgotten your bag.

The brunette was currently getting food for the both of you, while you tried to wake up with the coffee. “Doc!” You were in fact not a doctor of any kind, but Lucy didn’t care either way and just threw herself down in one of the chairs next to you. The defender handed you a small chap-stick-like tube. “It’s a wake-up-stick. Thought ya could need it.” You smiled at her gratefully, thanking her with a quick squeeze of her hand. After applying the stick, you waited, and while you didn’t notice an immediate difference it smelled nice.

“Aye Miss Earps! How have ya been?” It was Ella’s loud voice that eventually pulled you out of your sleep-induced trance. The younger girl sat down next to you – in Mary’s chair - as she excitedly told you a story of something Alessia had done, who sat on her other side, followed by Garce. Eventually, Esme, Hempo, and Maya joined in as well. The table had become too small after Grace sat down, but no one cared. The footballer just pulled in more tables and chairs, making the circle bigger and bigger until Mary finally came back. “Oi, what’s this then?”

The entire Lionesses squad had squished around a couple of tables, exited chatter filling the room, with you somewhere in between. “Up ya get Tooney.” The brunette could whine and pout as much as she liked but Mary was ruthless, wanting to sit next to her wife. You thanked her with a quick kiss, rolling your eyes as you heard Rachel yell “There’s children here – perverts!” Your favorite goalkeeper was quick to yell “And you’re one of them!” back at the blonde as the table started laughing.

You loved this. While you were not a part of the team that was on the pitch, the girls loved you. For you, and not for being Mary’s wife.

After eating you had to leave earlier, needing to set up the treatment room, checking if everything was where it was supposed to be. Georgia was the first to come in, wanting some numbing cream on her ankle as she had an incredibly sore bruise there. Next was Ellie, who got her neck taped as she had some tension there. After all the smaller complaints had been dealt with, your very favorite patient entered the room, hugging you from behind to announce her arrival.

“My turn, Lovie.” It was a nice little ritual you had built up over time – Mary would sit down and apply ice spray to her hands before you started taping her left one, laying a kiss on top when finished, before repeating the same thing for her second hand. Then came your favorite part – taping her shoulders. After making sure that no one else was in the room and that there were no cameras your wife would take off her shirt, pulling the straps of her sports bra to the sides as well as she could.

This was also the brunette’s favorite part, as you massaged her tense shoulders, layering them in soft kisses – marveling at her muscles as you started taping them. “Like what you see, my love?” She would always ask, a teasing smirk on her face before she would pull you into a passionate kiss – the last one both of you would get before the end of training.

It was the last day before the England-Belgium game and the small training session had gone by without any problems, sending the players to recovery.

But it was the next day, matchday, that you and your abilities would be tested.

In the seventh minute, the game was interrupted with a call of ‘handball into the area by Chloe Kelly’ which meant that there would be a freekick for Belgium in an incredibly dangerous position. Mary had set the girls up to her liking but the ball was struck with perfection, curling nicely, and finding the back of the net – leaving your wife to catch the rebound ball as she laid on the ground. It was devastating, knowing that she would blame herself for it. But it was only the seventh minute, leaving the whole game up for grabs.

And then it happened.

In the Eighteenth minute, a long ball from the Belgian goalkeeper found its way to the other side of the pitch, leaving Alex Greenwood and Jassina Blom to collide with their head against each other. Directly in front of the England bench.

Before the blonde even hit the ground, you had started running with your colleague grabbing the bag.

Alex was lying head-down on the pitch as the stadium got silent in shock. You kneeled by her head, getting as close to her as you managed. “Can you hear me, Alex?” But you quickly noticed that she couldn’t answer you, she was in too much pain. “Tap your finger once for yes, twice for no. Can you hear me?” One tap.

She was still conscious.

“Have you had more than one concussion before?” One tap.

Fuck.

Knowing the risks of multiple head injuries, it was important to react in a proper manner. Most of the players were standing at Sarina’s side as she gave instructions, but you could feel their scared stares finding you again and again as you tried to hide Alex from the world. Mary didn’t stand too far away from you, terrified that you were on the pitch. As much as she loved you, when you were on the pitch something bad had happened.

You were checking the injured player’s pulse and her pupils, as everything showed signs of a terrible concussion – but with previous injuries, this was a ticking time bomb. Just a minute later the field doctors entered the pitch, stretcher in hand as they walked towards you.

The Belgian player sat up again, a bandage on her head, but it was too risky to sit Alex up. Any sudden movement could send her into a seizure and the aftereffects could be immense. With all of the doctors at your side now, you carefully turned the player on her back, after getting confirmation from a professional you had placed a wet rag over her eyes, trying to shield them from the harsh lights.

Mary was standing behind you, offering her legs as something to lean against, which you gladly accepted as her teammate was heaved onto the stretcher as carefully as possible. In the 31st minute, Alex was finally stretchered off by the medical professionals as you sat back down in your seat – heart pumping incredibly fast.

The game was lost, Belgium winning 3-2 the shock of Alex’s injury still sitting deep.

Back in the team hotel, it was quiet, they had not only lost an important game, but Alex their friend and teammate was in the hospital.

Mary sat next to you on one of the big couches as some of the younger ones looked for comfort in the two of you. It was Chloe who just blatantly sat down in your lap, cuddling into your wife and yourself looking for warmth and shelter. And it did not take too much longer until you were covered in players as they flocked towards you like a herd of lost sheep that were looking for comfort.