#get ready for the tags sorry lads

[a2zillustration-archive]

I was in an OHSHC mood last year and came across this post about what phone cases the host club would have, and this post about what outfits the club would wear on their first dates, and I had to draw them all together. Little headcanon posts like these are so much fun!

[ittybittyfanblog]

Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition) – Pt. 2

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a–less–oblivious player. That’s it, that’s the plot. A/N: Ok, I’ve decided to make this by series, so this one’s just going to be purely Sylus. I hope nobody minds the specific names/places/etc. I wanted to create a personality for the “player” and add a bit of backstory work (loosely based on yours truly lol) for the sake of storytelling, but there won't be any distinct description of the player’s physical appearance <3 Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, suggestive language, bouts of delusion

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt. 6

Riiiiing– RiiiNGGGGG––

“Huh… whazat—?” 

A shrill—earsplitting, headache-inducing, completely fucking loud—noise wakes you up rather rudely from your peaceful slumber at… Jesus Christ, what time is it? 

You blink your bleary eyes open, once… twice—fuck, all you know that it’s too goddamn early for all this ruckus. Groaning, you clumsily try to find the source of the unexpected wake-up call—quite literally in this case. 

Your hand bumps the vibrating phone straight off the edge of the mattress – along with the charger cord still attached to it – and you cuss up a storm when you hear it clatter on the hardwood floor.

The ringing finally stops, and you’re perfectly content to just leave it there and fall back to sleep when, not even ten seconds later, the blasted thing rings back to life, taunting you awake. 

Angrily, you wrestle against the threadbare blanket wrapped around your body like a warm cocoon, pushing yourself out of bed with all the rage of a sleep-deprived insomniac who’s been up til the buttcrack of dawn to grab your—huh, relatively intact—phone off the ground, while the charger cable swings haphazardly from the weight of the power brick on its tail end.  

Without checking the caller, you swipe right to answer. “What?” 

“Don’t use that tone on me, young lady,” Your mother grouses on the other end of the line. “It’s almost noon! Did you just wake up?” 

Barely five hours of sleep. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you shut your eyes and sigh. “No, mom. Sorry, just had a late night,” you clear your throat in an attempt to sound more composed. “What’s up?” 

“Oh, dear. Is it because of work again?” Something akin to sympathy replaces the sternness in her voice, and you dread the all-too-familiar spiel that comes next. “You know, honey, there’s a job opening for a– what was it again? I have to double check, but it’s where your Auntie Helen works. You know your Auntie Helen—” 

“Mom,” you interrupt, before she could go off on a tangent. “Work is fine, don’t worry. Why d’you call?” 

“Should I need a reason to call my only daughter who's living by her lonesome, a country away from—” 

“Mom!” 

“Oh, alright,” she finally relents, sounding slightly exasperated. “Were you able to book me and Jodie the roundtrip flight to Orlando? Your cousin’s wedding is barely a month away and I want all the documents ready by now, sweetie.” 

Shit. “Ah— yeah. I’ll email you the flight itinerary in a bit, I’m just–” you catch sight of your protruding hamper, innocuous but an eyesore nonetheless, right by the doorway of your humble studio unit. “I mean, I just left the condo. To do errands and stuff. I’ll send the details to you when I get back home, okay?” 

“Okay, honey,” she sighs. “You stay safe outside now. Don’t talk to strangers.” 

“I am a perfectly responsible adult—” The call disconnects. “Hello? Great.” 

You rub away the remnants of sleep from your eyes, fully aware that your day’s already started, despite your reluctance. Might as well get a head start on today’s agenda.

First thing’s first– brunch. Oh, it’s almost one. Lunch, then. I could maybe grab a hotdog from the corner store before heading to Landers. Oh wait, your laundry– gotta pass by the laundromat downstairs, too. Ugh, c’mon, chop-chop. 

Just as you’re about to stand up from your supine position on the floor, another ping! pulls your attention back to your phone. 

“Mom, I swear–” 

Ah, you’re finally awake. You’ve had a very long night, kitten. Take it easy for the day – make sure to get enough rest between errands.

I’ll know if you don’t.  

Your heart skips a beat.

Oh! Um. That’s… new. 

… Apparently another one on the growing list of “new features” from the latest update. It doesn't sound like an invitation for you to open the game, strangely enough. It's not a call to action to claim your daily stamina, nor a prompt for you to check your Galaxy Explorer rewards. 

It’s nothing more than a greeting, really. Just one that’s particularly targeted at you, with unnerving accuracy.

You recall the weird (?) events from last night, and the now-erratic beating of your heart suddenly picks up a notch. From the unexpected dialogues to the outrageous amount of dias you’ve somehow ended up with—something you still think is some kind of glitch in the system—you can’t shake the feeling that you’re living out the plot of a Black Mirror episode, as fucking dumb as that sounds. 

Not to mention during Quality Time, Sylus_v2.0 (as you so lovingly dub this version of him in your mind) had been acting more aware of you.

And you’re not talking about the pre-programmed glances that you usually get. No– it’s like he actually hears you. 

He doesn’t say anything. But whenever you make a comment, or utter something under your breath, he reacts with a huff or a hum–depending on the context. If it’s a slew of expletives aimed at your boss, the reaction you’re met with is one of amusement. A snort; sometimes a quiet laugh, if you’re lucky. When you say something self-deprecating, however, it elicits the heavier sighs, the sharp clicks of the tongue. 

At one point, you heard him make a low sound of dissent, something close to a... growl, almost, after making a casual joke about being just another cog in the machine and how offing yourself wouldn’t really matter in the grand scheme of late capitalism. As you oft do. 

Your eyes met, and for a split second, it felt like you weren’t looking at just pixels. His gaze weighed heavy on you–almost accusatory. 

It made you feel… naked, somehow. Perceived. 

You recall how quickly you averted your eyes from his, face flushing hotly from a feeling you couldn’t put into words. 

Bone-tired from last night’s (morning) overtime, you didn’t have the time to look up the news on this recent version update—although you really don’t remember any notifications in-game—so you quickly Google, “sylus acting sentient in rcent update loveamd Deepspace???” on your phone browser.

You scroll down for a bit, but none of the search results yield any relevancy, nor are they in any way similar to your current… predicament. 

(Okay, so calling it a predicament is a little unfair. You’re not exactly complaining about anything per se. No complaints from you. At all.)

Deciding that you’d do a deeper dive on Twitter (X) at a later time instead – probably tonight when you do your daily login – you briefly press the side button to lock your phone… not without a final peek at the banner notification from Sylus. 

You press your lips together in an effort to hold back the stupid giggle bubbling up your throat. 

Unfortunately, all the self-control in the world can’t help you and your need to have the last word—girl, from what even—so you ask aloud, to no one except the person you've deluded yourself into thinking is a valid recipient of your one-sided conversation: 

“... Yeah? And what if I don’t?” 

You’re not really waiting for a response (or were you?), but the nervous flutter in your stomach betrays the impatience you're trying to mask with casual indifference. It’s small, unassuming–but there. 

Impatient for what, exactly, you’re not sure. But maybe, just maybe—

Feeling a bit braver now, are we? How bold. Care to say that to my face, sweetheart?

Oh. 

Oh.

An inhuman noise escapes your throat, embarrassingly loud, almost a keen, and you fumble with the device in your hand; the new banner notification still in full view—taunting you. 

You don’t know what to think, you don’t know how to feel. You–

Spring up, like an agitated jack-in-a-box, and the sudden rush of blood in your head leaves you dizzy. You’re a molotov cocktail of emotions; one more bombshell dropped on you and you might just blow. 

“I’m– later, okay? Uh,” Whew, girl, keep it together. “I need–I need to go.” You almost stumble as you speed walk towards the bathroom.

-

-

-

If you didn’t switch your phone to silent, didn’t make the conscious effort to ignore any incoming messages, notifications, and whatever else, in a rush to get dressed and go about your day as if it's just like any other weekend–nope, nothing unusual here–you would’ve seen one last cheeky reply:

Of course, sweetie. You take care now. 

Don’t talk to strangers. X

Endnote: This one's pretty short, but I’m world-building, trust. 

Thanks for reading! 

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Something Borrowed

Pairing: Tom Bennett (World on Fire) x f!reader Warnings: Smut. Word count: ~1.5k Summary: An addition to Best Intentions. Read as a standalone, if you'd like.

Author's note: A birthday gift for @hoosbandewan - husband Tom on your birthday. Happy birthday, Erin! No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

“God’s got bigger things to worry about than me makin’ an honest woman outta ya,” Tom had told her with a wink. “Besides, the money we save we can put towards a bigger do. Would rather everyone have a few beers and sarnies to celebrate, than sit in a stuffy church with their arses going to sleep.”

That had settled it. Her and Tom were to have a registry office wedding, with a reception at The Ducie Arms afterwards. 

Even without money being as tight as it is she knows that this is what they would always have chosen. It’s just irrevocably them. Theirs is not a love born of grand gestures and material possessions. They share a soul connection, a lifetime of scraped knees, shared sweets, building their lives around each other, growing together. They are already two halves of the same whole, this is simply the string that ties it all together.

Despite keeping the ceremony itself modest, she feels like a princess as she stands in front of the mirror, her mum behind her fastening the last few buttons on the back of her wedding dress, as she places the last of the pins in her hair.

They’d gotten a deal at the haberdashery on some end cuts of lace and satin, and her mum had worked her magic with her sewing machine. The dress looks shop bought.

She smiles as she smooths her hands over the skirt, taking in the high neckline and draped sleeves, grateful that she’d woken early enough to clasp herself into the lingerie and slip that lies beneath - a wedding night treat for Tom - before her mum had arrived to help her get ready.

It had been a struggle to get out of bed that morning. Her mum, Lois and Connie had all popped round to the flat the previous evening to make sandwiches for the reception. She’d been half way through spreading margarine on a slice of bread when Connie had produced a bottle of gin from her bag.

“Well, if Tom and the rest of the lads are all at the pub, why shouldn’t we?” Connie had asked with a smile as Lois had rushed to get glasses down from the kitchen cupboard.

The pounding in her head the next day tells her exactly why she shouldn’t have. She wonders if Tom is in as much of a sorry state as she is. Thankfully, her make-up does a good job of hiding it.

Tom has called in a favour with a customer at the garage, so she can travel to the registry office in style. She has to stifle a laugh behind her hand as the sleek black motorcar pulls up outside the shop to pick her up. It’s the exact same one that her and Tom had vigorously made up in the back of.

As she slides onto the seat, gathering her skirt so that it doesn’t catch in the door, the memory of Tom laying between her thighs replays in her mind, causing her skin to heat up.

“Everything alright?” Her mum asks, climbing in next to her. “You look a bit flustered.”

She blinks, swallowing and nodding, startled out of her reverie. “Yeah, Mum, bit nervous is all.”

Tom stops fidgeting with his tie knot the moment he sees her, a grin spreading across his face as she walks towards him and the registrar. He lets out a low whistle as she stops beside him, turning to face him. She bows her head, giggling. She feels like a school girl all over again.

Time seems to stand still for her as she gazes into Tom’s blue eyes, not really registering the words being spoken, or the vows she utters in response, fixated only on Tom’s beaming smile. Once more he is that little boy, face full of sunshine and the sweetest little rabbit teeth she’s ever seen. 

Except now he is hers. Her husband. She is a wife.

“Fuckin’ finally,” Tom mutters, surging forward once they are told they can kiss.

He grasps the back of her neck, pressing his lips to hers in a motion that steals the air from her lungs. She wraps her arms around his shoulders, smiling into it, her heart fluttering just as it had the first time they’d ever kissed. In a way, this is a first too, the first of many things they’ll share as a married couple.

“Hello, Mrs. Bennett,” he whispers against her lips when they finally part for breath.

The words have heat pooling between her legs almost instantly. She is certain she’ll never tire of hearing them.

As everyone heads in the direction of The Ducie Arms, she is confused when Tom pulls her back in the direction of the shop.

“What you doing?” She asks, brow furrowing as she resists his gentle tug on her arm.

“Left something in the flat, need to go back for it,” he tells her, nodding his head in the direction he wants to go.

“Can’t you just quickly go back for it on your own, and meet me at the pub?”

He shakes his head, tugging at her hand again. “Need you to help me, come on.”

She sighs, relenting and allowing him to pull her along. “We’re gonna be late to our own wedding reception.”

Tom smirks, glancing sideways at her. “They’ll wait, they have to.”

As soon as they’re home, he’s upon her, backing her up towards the bedroom as his hands grasp her waist and his lips find hers.

She giggles between hurried kisses, their breaths intermingling. “Is this what you forgot then?”

Tom pushes her back against the mattress, placing hot, opened mouthed kisses against her throat. “You look so good in that dress, darlin’, couldn’t wait any longer.”

She gasps as her hands slide up her skirt, bunching it at her hips. He leans back, arching a brow appreciatively at the white lingerie he finds beneath. His fingers hook beneath the strap that attaches her stocking to her garter belt and pull back slightly before letting go. It snaps against the flesh of her thigh, making her squeal.

“Tommy, we can’t!” She protests. “I’m wearing things that I won’t be able to put back on if you take them off.”

“Why ever would I take ‘em off?” He asks mockingly, cocking his head. “It’d be a waste.”

She whines as, forcefully, he pushes the gusset of her knickers to one side, swiping through her slick folders, grinning at the wetness he finds. “Gonna make us late to our own wedding reception with this. Naughty, naughty.”

Writhing against the bed, she no longer cares for her fancy lingerie, or if she rumples her dress, not when she hears the metallic clink of Tom’s belt buckle opening. The noise travels straight to her core, causing her to clench around nothing, until finally he’s lining himself up against her entrance and pressing inside. No matter how many times her and Tom make love she’ll never get used to the exquisite torture of that first initial stretch. It robs her of all coherent thought every time, only able to focus on the feeling of him pushing her walls apart.

She expects him to be quick and brutal with her, but he stills once he’s fully inside, resting his forehead against hers. It’s comforting to have him this close, just to feel the weight of him.

As she runs her hands down his back, met with the wiry yet solid expanse of muscle, she’s taken back to a time when he first returned from France and was so thin she could feel every vertebrae in his spine. This is testament to how far he’s come, how far they’ve come; not just the weight he’s put back on, but that he’s healed enough to be in a place where can be someone’s husband, and he has chosen to be hers.

Feeling a prickle of tears in her eyes, she blinks them back, feeling embarrassed when one strays its way down her cheek, until she looks back up into Tom’s eyes to see his are similarly wet.

He holds her close, he takes his time with her. It’s gentle, unhurried, and full of love.

“I love you, Mrs. Bennett,” he whispers to her.

They are late to their reception, but met with rapturous applause as they enter through the pub doors nonetheless. They drink lager, and eat spam sandwiches, and Tom treads on her feet when they attempt to slow dance to ‘Sentimental Journey’ by Doris Day. She can’t imagine a more perfect evening, that is until Tom guides her outside.

They walk back towards the wall, their wall and Tom helps her up onto it, before sitting beside her. Her legs don’t dangle as high from the floor as they used to, and it’s odd to look down and see her legs draped in white lace, instead of littered with scrapes and bruises.

She grins when she turns to Tom, watching as he produces a paper bag of sherbet straws from his inside jacket pocket. “Just wanted to say thanks for helping me with my maths homework fifteen years ago,” he says with a cheeky smile, “Mates, yeah?”

Warmth spreads throughout her chest as she leans against him, resting her head on his shoulder. “Always.”

[its-time-to-write]

how about a Jamie x reader fic when they go away to Amsterdam they sit together on bus and they wake up cuddling and then there’s an issue w hotel booking and there’s a one bed trope and they end up waking up cuddled together and then they admit feelings and reader goes to game with a tartt jersey on <3

I’ve been thinking about this forever, and I’m terribly sorry it took so long!! I do enjoy being an adult, but I’m at a point in life where I don’t have much free time and if I do, I use it to sleep😂

I really miss the days when Ted Lasso was still airing and the x reader tags had new content every day. I feel like that one meme of Thanos when he’s like “Fine. I’ll do it myself.” Shoutout to all y’all who are still here and reading my stuff! Love you!!

smile at me

It’s straight-up fucked. It really, really is. But also maybe it’s good, as Keeley pointed out, because not having a boyfriend anymore means you can focus on yourself?

Or something. 

Of course he had to break up with you right before leaving for Amsterdam. Hell, he broke up with you because you were leaving for Amsterdam. 

“I don’t want you going to another country with a bunch of other guys,” he had said. “It’s them or me.”

“It’s literally my job,” you told him. 

Apparently, that didn’t matter. 

But what-fucking-ever, you’re at Keeley’s waiting for a car to take you to the airport, and she’s promised to make sure you don’t think about your stupid ex even once. 

It’s times like these you wish Ted were still here with a spot-on pun and some dad-type advice. All you ever get from Beard is a weird anecdote and a vaguely threatening look. 

Keeley chatters on for the entirety of the ride to the airport, through customs, and all the way to the lounge. 

“You’re gonna get loads of great content for the socials, babe. Candids, action shots, behind-the-scenes. Friendlies are fucking amazing!”

Last time Richmond were in Amsterdam, they had lost horribly. They’re hoping to make up for it this time around. 

The plane is full of Greyhounds, both footballers and coaches alike, with Rebecca at the very front. Keeley plops done in the seat next to her as Dani waves at you from the middle. 

“I saved you a seat!” he calls. You smile as Sam takes your bag to put it in the overhead. “Thanks, Dani. You excited?”

Dani grins. “I think this time I am ready to see a whole field of tulips!”

You laugh as the lads roll their eyes. Jamie leans across the aisle toward you and says, “Oi, what’s the twat doing while you’re away?” 

You press your lips into a thin line. “Not a clue.”

He raises an eyebrow and says, “You break up with him?”

“He broke up with me.”

Jamie twists his face into a scoff. “And you wonder why I call him the fucking twat. Prick. Bet it was so he could finally fuck his coworker.”

You shrug. Jamie’s never liked your boyfriend. It’s not like you were together long, only a few months. And sure, he was a little bit of a twat, but sue you. You had a special place in your heart for pricks with a heart of gold, only he didn’t even have a heart at all. 

“You should date someone better,” Jamie continues. 

You glare at him and retort, “Oh yeah, because it’s just that easy. You got some one in mind?”

Jamie gives you his most angelic look and says, “What about me?” which makes half the plane dissolve into laughter, yourself included. 

“Cheers, Jamie,” you say as you wipe your eyes. “I needed that.”

A strange look crosses his face, but it’s quickly replaced by his usual cocky expression. “Anytime, love,” he replies as you turn to start a conversation with Dani. 

As much as you’d like that, Jamie would never date you. His joke stings a little but you brush it off. Maybe you’ll find another twat in Amsterdam to distract yourself from the fact that you’re half in love with Jamie Tartt.

—

“I’m sorry, we don’t have a booking under you name,” the hotel concierge says.

You tap your nails to your wrist. “Are you positive? I’m with AFC Richmond, they should’ve had one.”

The concierge taps on his computer for a moment before shaking his head. “No, I’m afraid we don’t have anything. And all of our rooms are booked this weekend. Might I recommend the hotel down the road?”

Damn it. There’s no way this is happening. Everyone else has gotten to their rooms without a hitch and here you are, alone in the lobby as you pull out your phone to call Keeley. There’s no way this is fucking happening. 

“Everything alright?” asks a voice behind you, and you jump. 

“They don’t have a room for me, and they’re fully booked,” you explain. 

Jamie looks at the concierge, who shrugs apologetically, then back to you. He asks, “Why don’t you share with me?” and you frown. 

“I thought you were rooming with Declan,” you say. 

Jamie lifts a shoulder. “Yeah, but he switched with Richard because O’Brien fucking snores and he don’t give a shit.”

You say, “So you’re with Richard, then,” and he shakes his head. 

“Nah, Richard’s with Jan.”

“I thought Dani was with Jan,” you say. These fucking footballers. What’s the point in having set rooms if they’re just going to switch it all up.

“Dani is with Jan,” Jamie says patiently, as if this all the most obvious thing in the world. “But Dani’s a cuddler, so he’s probably going to fucking end up with, I don’t know, Isaac or someone. Which means I get a room all to meself.”

“Right,” you say slowly. “Alright, I can do that. As long as you don’t mind.”

Jamie winks. “Sharing a room with a pretty girl for four days? Ain’t a problem, love.”

You laugh and follow him to the elevator.

—

It feels a bit like playing with fire, agreeing to room with Jamie. Especially since you’re freshly single and definitely open to a rebound. But there will be two beds and a lot of space and anyway, you’ll be busy with the match and social media, respectively. 

Except as soon as you walk through the door, you realize there’s a tiny little hitch.

“There’s one bed,” you blurt out, so surprised you’re unable to filter your words. Jamie blushes a little bit as he says, “Yeah, um, Cockburn and I hate sleeping alone, so we asked for one. He grew up sharing a bed with his brothers and I just fucking hate being alone. I can sleep on the couch if you want.”

“No,” you say firmly, “you need good rest. It’s not a problem.”

It’s not a problem. 

Or at least it wouldn’t have been if Isaac had been a shittier captain. 

But as it is he’s great, so he’s got the whole team going out to dinner at a pre-determined location complete with a dress code of no t-shirts and apparently you count as part of the team, so you have to go too. You’re in your massive bathroom trying to curl your disgusting travel hair when Jamie walks in wearing one of those white hotel bathrobes.

He asks, “You mind if I’m in here?” so you shake your head, struck temporarily mute by his bare clavicle. Fucking hell, you feel like a repressed Victorian woman. 

Jamie says, “Mint,” and goes about his alarmingly detailed skincare routine. You’re pretty sure you’re done with your hair so you crane your neck in an attempt to check the back. 

“Missed a spot,” Jamie says. “Want me to get it for you?”

You shoot him a dubious look but hand him the curler. He runs a hand through your hair, picking up the offending strand and it’s all you can do not to shiver. 

“Mum taught me,” he explains and you nod ever so slightly, not wanting him to accidentally burn your neck. Jamie says, “All good,” and runs his whole hand through your hair this time, making the curls bounce. 

You choke out, “Thanks,” and hurriedly put away your things, desperate to leave before Jamie can pick up on the fact that you can barely handle being in the same room as him, and that you have great concerns about what the night will bring. 

—

“You look fucking hot,” is the first thing Rebecca says when you meet her in the lobby. Keeley looks mildly offended that Rebecca took the words out of her mouth, but she just laughs and taps your arm. 

“Gonna break a few hearts tonight, yeah?” she grins.

You’re not sure about that, especially since dinner turns out to be a very domestic affair. It’s loud, sure, but it’s definitely toned down since it’s a pre-match celebration instead of a post-match one. You’re with Sam, Keeley, and Roy with Jamie far, far away. You push all thoughts of him from your brain only for memories of your ex to surface. You frown. 

“The fuck’s wrong with you?” Roy says and for a moment, you think he’s talking to you. But he’s actually talking to Jamie who has moved from his place across the restaurant to right behind your chair. 

“Fuck off grandad,” Jamie says good-naturedly. “Wanted to tell this one that some of the lads are going out dancing after this. Not too late,” he hastily adds at Roy’s burning scowl, “just for two hours and we’re only allowed one drink.”

You’re pretty sure that’s a bit more liberal than Roy likes, but he nods his head slightly so he must be in a good mood.

“So, you coming?” Jamie asks and before you can reply Sam and Keeley chorus, “Yes she is.”

You give Keeley a Look before turning back to Jamie. “Guess I am,” you reply.

The smile Jamie gives you does more to make your head spin than any amount of alcohol you’ve had in your lifetime.

—

Jamie has taken it upon himself to wipe that frown off your face. He might have been watching you over dinner and that might have been why he chose that exact moment to invite you out, but he’ll never fucking admit it to anyone except Sam. And Keeley. And maybe Cockburn when it was the off-season and they were a little tipsy. (But not drunk, never drunk.) 

So yeah, sue him if he’s spinning you around on the crowded dance floor just because it makes you laugh. It’s not his fault that he’s been wildly in love with you since the day Higgins hired you. It’s not his fault that you’re easy to be around and have the most beautiful smile he’s seen in his life. 

And fuck, it certainly isn’t his fault you can’t see in yourself what others do. Why you settled for a piece of shit like your ex, he’ll never know. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do his best to show you how special you are. He knows you’ll never feel the same about him, but maybe he can help you level up your standards. Maybe if you’re with someone good, it’ll hurt less that it’s not him. 

So he lets you hold his hand for the entirety of the two hours that the team is out and doesn’t say a word when you don’t let go in the cab back to the hotel. 

You’ve gotten that closed-off look in your eyes again, the one that means you’re thinking about your ex, so Jamie knocks his shoulder into yours and asks why he can’t have the password to the team’s Instagram account, which is a sure fire way to get you to lecture him on irresponsibility and aesthetics and the best way to get your eyes to come back to life.

—

Honestly, it’s easier to fall asleep than you might have expected. It’s a big bed and you’re fucking tired. 

You just didn’t expect to wake up in the middle of the night crying, but it’s always fucking like this when you go through a breakup. You go to sleep fine and wake up sad, so you do your best not to wake up Jamie except you’ve both ended up entangled in each other’s arms, so he can feel you shaking. 

“Hey,” Jamie says in a soft voice, “You’re okay, love.”

You half expect him to push you away once he realizes you’re so close, but he only pulls you closer and presses a kiss to your forehead. Maybe it’s because you’re both half-asleep, but it feels like the most natural thing in the world. 

You sigh and settle into him, drifting off in a matter of moments. 

—

You wake up to a pair of blue eyes watching you. 

“How you feeling?” Jamie asks, voice gravelly with sleep. 

You just blink at him. It’s hard to form coherent sentences within the first ten seconds of waking up, and even harder with the memory of Jamie’s arms around you last night. 

Wait. Not just the memory. The present reality because neither of you have moved. 

Jamie misinterprets your silence and begins to extricate his arms.

“Sorry,” he says, “I’m not to trying to like, cross and fucking boundary or something. Should’ve left you alone.”

You’re still not awake enough to talk so you grab him to stop him from moving away. He gives you a questioning look so you say, “I wouldn’t have agreed to share a bed if I thought you were a creep.”

Jamie grins. “So like, if Jan had offered to share a room you’d’ve said no.”

You wrinkle your nose as you say, “Jan’s not a creep.”

“He’s the fucking worst,” Jamie grumbles, “And anyway, can we not talk about Jan fucking Maas this early in the morning?”

“Sure,” you say, “let’s talk about something else.”

Despite your comment, you both lapse into silence. You’re enraptured by Jamie’s blue eyes. You’ve never been able to study them this close before, and you want to take this opportunity to memorize every fleck of green. 

Jamie seems to have a similar thought, except his gaze flicks to your lips. 

“I have morning breath,” you tell him and he says, “Real men don’t give a shit, babe,” before leaning forward.

It’s softer than you’d expected, sweeter. 

It’s also strange to think that you’re making out with Jamie in bed, and that he’s the one who initiated it.

The thought is so absurd that you giggle, mid-kiss. Jamie breaks away and says, “Oi, there’s no way that was a shit kiss.”

“No,” you say between giggles, “it’s just weird that we’re doing this. Like, how are we supposed to look each other in the eye after?”

Jamie moves so he can look at you better, and you roll from your side to your back. “What do you mean?” he asks.

“Oh come on, we share a room and a bed, we kiss because I have all these sad feelings and you’re feeling a lot of emotions about the match, and then we have to work together after. It’s silly.”

Jamie cocks his head. “That’s what you think is happening?”

“Yes?” you say. None of this is going how it’s supposed to. “What do you think is happening?”

“I like you,” he says, and there is absolutely no mistaking his meaning. 

“Oh,” you reply in a small voice. “Since when?”

“Since before you started dating the twat. When Higgins introduced ya to the team.”

“That’s a fucking long time ago!” you exclaim. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

Jamie rubs his face. “Yeah, ‘cept you showed up to work tellin’ everyone how you started dating the twat. And I ain’t a home wrecker.”

You groan. “Fuuuck. I literally only dated him to try to get over you.”

Jamie shoots up. “What?!”

“Yeah,” you say, “I’ve been like a little bit in love with you ever since you winked at me during that first promo I did.”

Jamie blows out a breath. “Okay. Think that’s enough talking. C’mere. We’re making out proper, like, then we’re going to breakfast.”

You grin as you climb onto his lap. 

[vixen7243]

Lurking in the Shadows Pt.4

Husband!John Price x AFAB!Reader | Obesessed!Ghost x AFAB!Reader

Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Tag list 🖤: @lazybean145

MDNI!!!

It had been a few days since you'd last seen Simon, the morning after the three of you 'connected' on the couch he was out of bed and gone. Talking with John on whether you had over stepped or pushed him to far when guiding him to pleasure him, John comforted you, assuring you everything was okay. Little hard to believe when he wasn't answering your texts or calls neither John's and John hadn't seen him at the base either. Pacing around the house, making jumbled texts of apologizes to him you bundled up on the couch on the phone with John. Jumping when the front door opened you gasped running and wrapping your arms tightly around Simon's stomach afraid he would leave otherwise, "Oh my god, Simon!" Tears sliding down your cheeks you looked up at him, "I'm so sorry Si, I'm sorry." Uncontrollably you rambled, about forcing him, making him uncomfortable, anything and everything you could think of that might have been the reason for him to leave without a word and literally ghost the both of you.

"Luv, woah, luv breath." He cupped your cheeks stepping all the way in with you kicking the door closed he pulled you into his chest stroking your hair. "Stop. Stop apologizing luv, just relax, breath for me." His voice was so calm, tone level, breathing in deeply you relaxed into him tightening your arms when he moved to pull away. "Come on luv, lets go sit down." Walking with you to the couch you crawled into his lap sniffling.

"I'm sorry Simon, if I over stepped, made you do something you weren't comfortable or ready with? Anything, I'm so sorry, I never wanted you to leave. Not like that."

"Oh luv, listen okay.” Nodding your head, you absentmindedly set your phone onto the coffee table forgetting that you were on the phone with John, who listened to the two of you talk. "Alright, I'm sorry for leaving the way I had, I wasn't uncomfortable to be honest luv, although I had hoped that Cap would be here, I know he'll be out late tonight. Everything was just a surprise to me, I'd never done any of that before, never thought I would or even thought I would be interested." He said wiping your tears away. Laying a soft kiss to your cheeks and eyes he looked into your eyes. "I should've stayed, but I needed some time."

You sighed nodded, "We should've talked it over before hand, we just acted, that is on us." You said slowly pulling off his face mask, "We'll talk about everything, boundaries, limits and comfortabilities and everything." Simon kissed you slowly, nodding against you holding you against him.

"I wasn't mad, just confused." He still sounded confused, even to John. You looked into his eyes cupping his cheek, feeling him lean into your hand you rested your forehead against his.

“I’m happy you came back, I was so worried, you complete John and me.” If only you could feel how whole that made Simon as his heart pounded in his chest, your soft hand cupping his rough cheek. Slowly falling back into the couch with Simon nestled against your chest you kissed every inch of his face combing your fingers through his hair massaging his scalp, his hands squeezing and rubbing any and all skin he could get his hands on while your sweet, soft voice cooed gentle praises into his ear, his mind melting as his heart and soul started to become even more consumed by you. He never thought this could become a reality for himself during those long lonely nights, his body craving to be closer to you, aching to feel your serene touch, pained at not hearing your loving words not being directed at him but at your husband. Who, was still listening, now rushing to try and finish his work, put the fact that in a week he and the lads will have to leave for a few months on the back burner of his mind.

The moment between you and Simon stretched on forever, the world around the two of you blacked out, the touches between the two of you building to a needy touch. Turning his head he slowly pushed himself more up over you, kissing you back, soft kisses becoming desperate and full, your lips mindlessly moving and connecting with him, your bodies already know how to form to the other, binding and blending your limbs, where one started and the other ended was a blur. Lazily you each removed the other’s clothes, the wet sound of kissing and huffed moans passed between the two of you, your pussy already drenched and sticking to his abs as he made you grind against him. Whimpering at the stimulation to your clit you tried grabbing at him, only for him to laced his fingers with yours and pull your arm up over your head (like the gif) kissing you smiling as you started whining about wanting to be filled by him.

As much as he adored giving you what you want and desire he couldn’t help but be a bit selfish in wanting to hear you saying and beg him for more, needing him, wanting him. He’d wanted you for so long hearing you even if for a moment beg and plead how much you want and need him he felt happy, carefully easing himself into you he groaned heavily in your neck at the tightness. Gasping, you arched up into him, legs spreading as much as possible to make room and accommodate his size, you incoherently babbled as he slowly thrusted into you. The sloppy mess of your blended drool slid down your cheek much like the slick spreading on your thighs and his groin. The sloshing and wet slapping of skin had you dumbing down enraptured by the pleasure and feeling of Simon enveloping you, covering you completely with his body.

The thought that John will get home later, the couch a complete mess of yours and Simon’s fluids staining it no doubt, the house smelling of sex, and the two of you, hopefully, still pawing and fucking into each other like hormonal teenagers had you cumin around him making him grunt from how tight you were getting and then the spasming of your walls trying to milk his balls. Huffing he started kissing and sucking on any space of skin that he could reach all over you without having to pull out, his thrusts even slower than before, stretching out your blissful orgasm. Your moans quiet against the wetness between your thighs, Simon sitting up pulling you fully against his hips, “Ready for me to fill this pretty cunt?”

“God, yes please, Si I need you.” Grunting when he started pounding into you, the breath feeling as though it was being punched from your lungs. Whining out when the head of his dick would push into your cervix, his shaft rubbing against your gummy spot making your legs wrap tightly around his waist, toes curl and fingers scratch down his forearms trying to ground yourself as you felt his cock twitch. Crying out you came again around him your walls clenching tightly milking him forcing him to cum, his hips didn’t relent though, they continued to pound into your full cunt.

The night continued like that, Simon overstimulating the both of you before John got home. Who, in which, walked through the door and sure enough the swift smell of sex hit him making him walk into the living room to see Simon give one last weak thrust into you with a broken whimper, both your eyes tear filled, bodies shaking, breathing labored. Simon fell back into the arm of the couch, his dick slipping out of you easily making you whine at the loss and empty feeling. Shrugging his coat off he smiled when you looked over at him, dazed and fucked out. "Hi darling." Simon turned his head and looked at John turning his body and gave him a full view of your cunt, overflowed with his cum, cunt and couch a mess with him.

"Hi honey, welcome home." You said stretching out eyes closed, oblivious to the shared look between John and Simon. After a few moments of silence, a gentle kiss was laid on your forehead, the familiar feeling of John's beard brushing against your skin before it was gone just as quickly as you had felt it. Laying there a few moments longer you felt relaxed and sated before holding your breath when you heard something like a sucking, opening your eyes you peaked down and rather quickly you felt turned on at the sight biting on your lip.

John was kneeled before Simon, between his legs, his lips wrapped around Simon's dick, one hand holding the base while the other rested on his shaking thigh. John's eyes were focused on Simon, watching as his eyes were squeezed closed, groans and quiet curses falling from his lips before he would look down, watching as the older man practically cleaned his dick of your fluids and mixed with his own cum. Slowly sitting up more you let one hand slip between your thighs, fingers easily sliding over your clit a quiet strangled whimper muffled behind your closed lips. Shuddering when both men looked over at you, you couldn't help but to slide two fingers into your stuffed cunt gasping when John pulled your ankle dragging you to them. As he lifted up from Simon's cock, the audible pop made you look down and see that Simon was hard again. John had set you into Simon’s lap, who helped hold you to his chest, John spread your legs to either side of Simon’s thighs. He watching as Simon’s cum slid out of your pussy and down dripping onto Simon’s dick, almost like frosting, the sight making him lick his lips before leaning back down and sucking Simon’s cock back into his mouth, the groan ringing in your ears before your moan sinked up with him when you felt John’s fingers dipping into you.

“Shit.” Drawing your fingers into his hair you smiled when he looked up at him, before you pushed him deeper down Simon thrusting your hips to meet his fingers. Even through the overstimulation you felt a new hunger at the sight of your loving husband going down on your lover. Simon’s hands covered yours, the both of you moving John’s head, Simon grunting against your shoulder teeth grazing your skin making you shiver. “Fuck, cap, deeper.” The broken strain in Simon’s voice made you whine and gasp as he started thrusting up to meet John’s mouth.

Trying to fight the urge to close your legs around John’s head you moaned as he slide a third finger in working you to another orgasm. Feeling over whelmed and delirious from the pleasure you felt your brain just melt and succumb to both men, “Daddy.” Over Simon’s guttural grunts and John’s moaning they both heard you quiet call, making Simon draw one hand up to your breast squeezing and playing with your nipple while John used his thumb to press on and rub your aching clit. Pulling on John’s hair you felt yourself propelling towards an orgasm as you cried out, Simon whined beneath you as John plunged down, his nose in the trimmed blonde pubs feeling as Simon’s dick twitched in his throat before ropes of cum was shooting down his throat.

You squirted making John pull up and cover your pussy with his mouth humming as you shook whining incoherently about the overstimulation. As you and Simon huffed trying to come down, while John got up undoing his belt and pants your dazed eyes locked onto his hands watching him, needy for more of him, you let out a surprised squeal when Simon locked his arms under your knees and made you lay on him as he went to the side and held you open for John. “You got one more in you for me darling?” You couldn’t help the way your cunt clenched around nothing while he got between yours and Simon’s spread legs.

Part of you wanted to ask if he was questioning you or Simon, but the glint in his eye as he was dragging his gaze over your body told you your answer. “Yes daddy.”

As he slowly swiped the head of his cock along your slit he smiled, “My good girl.” Shifting your hips to try and get him to just enter you, you moaned at the feeling of his tip pushing at your entrance. “Hold her tight.” Before Simon could say anything John rammed into you, his thrusts taking your breath away, quickly finding his rhythm as you loudly moaned practically screaming from the pleasure, Simon pulled your knees all the way to your chest making John plough deeper into you, all his weight pressing you tightly between him and Simon making it impossible for you to even squirm.

Feeling full and overstimulated like never before your brain couldn’t register or gather that as John was thoroughly fucking into you he was also gently caressing Simon’s cheek with one hand before he laced his fingers with the man holding your legs up. The moment between the two soft and sweet even though your porn worthy moans, sloshing dripping cunt was beautiful background noise to their unspoken moment.

Simon, looking up at John felt so overwhelmed, he’d known for a very long time he was over obsessed with you, unhealthy so but he never cared. He’d fantasized about having you, loving you and claiming you, but now John was making a mess of his brain, he’s found himself attracted to men before, confused and shoved the feeling aside never to dwell on those feelings but now John was remixing the pot. Looking up at him, Simon felt something swelling in his chest at the sight of his own cum on John’s lips and drying on his beard, the down right desire and new need to some how claim John just as much as he could claim you, over ran Simon.

None of you could hold back your grunts moans or whimpers, wiggling an arm free you found Simon’s hand and laced your fingers with his squeezing every time John’s shaft rubbed against your sweet spot. Johns hand still sweetly caressing Simon’s cheek, Simon tilted his head to kiss and nip by your ears his grunts making your cunt clench. Being filled by your amazing husband and your lover grunting in your ear made you feel like you were in heaven. “John, I’m going to cum.” You whine feeling your muscles tightening, walls fluttering as his pace started faltering at the sensation, already spent you tried to wait for your husband but as soon as his thumb rubbed over your clit, you cried out, legs trying to kick out, eyes closed tightly and body shaking violently. If Simon hadn’t of tightened his grip on you, you would have surely fallen right off him.

John grunted pushing fully against you, his dick twitch against you, constricting walls, huffing as he halted gathering himself as he slowly pulled out of you and wat he’d as your pussy started clenching around nothing, a pretty sight of his and Simon’s mixed cum slipping out of you and dripping onto Simon’s twitching, spent cock.

Making his way to the kitchen ha grabbed a few hand clothes and cups of water, sitting in the coffee table he wiped you down as you still laid on Simon humming happily playing with Simon’s fingers. When he finished he helped you sit up and onto the couch handing you a cup of water, your fingers wrapping around it slowly chugging from the glass as John kissed your forehead before resting a hand on Simon’s shoulder pushing him to lay back down gently. Just as gentle as John was with you, wiping you down and massaging your limbs he repeated the process with Simon. The sight making you smile sweetly and feel warmth spread in your chest, and when John was done, Simon sitting up reaching for the second glass you tried to hold back to little breath as John lightly grabbed the side of Simon’s neck and pulled him forward a gentle chaste kiss between the two.

John was slow in pulling back, making sure the kiss was light and could stop if Simon was uncomfortable. But Simon pushed forward exploring the feelings swimming in his chest as he tasted John, both men humming at the quickly adapted rhythm of their bodies with each other. You were in awe, they looked even more handsome, caught by surprise when Simon and John reached out for you and pulled you towards them, John taking your glass while Simon guided you into their kiss, what started off as a sweet moment between the two turned into a clash of teeth and tongue when you joined. Settling in Simon’s lap as their hands massaged your hips and thighs you melted in their grasp high off their love.

You weren’t sure when you all pulled apart but you wrapped your arms snuggly around Simon’s shoulders as he carried you up to your room snuggling in behind you as John made his way in laying with the two of you.

“We leave in a week.”

Freezing you looked at John, if there was ever a way to kill the mood and make anxiety cover you like a blanket it, John did it. “Are you serious?”

“I’m sorry darling.” He kissed your forehead, you could feel Simon’s lips moving slowly over your shoulder blades. Sometimes you wondered how you could do this, when he’s gone you feel like a ghost of yourself (Simon would laugh and you know it), you struggled to not think of the worst when he’s gone, body always aching because a piece of your soul was missing every time he left. And now Simon? You could already feel your heart breaking into bits in order to give Simon anything and everything you could that you hadn’t already given to John. Now they were both leaving and you were going to be nothing without them, your anxiety and fear will bubble up and over run you while they are gone. Trying to pull John closer as you scooted ever close to Simon without fusing your bodies together you tried to block it from your mind choosing to ignore his warning. It mostly felt like a threat, always did, you hated it.

Through the silence your men could feel the turmoil in you and followed you in squeezing you between them letting the topic end there. You’d fallen asleep not long after, letting the fact that the night was still good, even if John had to put a sour twist to the ending. Simon still came home to the both of you, he’s excepting both you and John, and you were feeling whole in their arms.

With the following week you spent every slipping moment with them, whether together or alone, you wanted to soak in their attention and love, burning every sweet, heated touch into your body. You let them leave marks all over you. Soap questioning how once when he ran into you and Simon at the market what was going on, why wasn’t he invited over. You couldn’t help but to blush, he was a handsome man and to think of the things that you guys were doing and for him to ask to be invited next time made you hold back the giggle threatening to escape as Simon huffed, and when you two were alone back at home he thoroughly fucked the giggles from your throat asking if you were that much of a slag that you would let Johnny fuck you like this.

Standing on the front porch watching them drive off you felt more anxious with both men that have your heart leave for a few months. John reassured you that they'll be back before you knew it. You just couldn't help holding your hands to your stomach, the nagging feeling that you should've told them this morning about the stupid stick you peed on and what it told you. As John's truck reached the end of the drive way, your feet made a mad dash carrying you to them, making John break and both men get out worried as they watched a few tears fall down your cheeks.

"Wait, please."

"Darling, what's the matter? It's going to be ok-"

"I'm pregnant!" The choked confession had you pawing at them for dear life, sniffling, "I took a test this morning and another because I didn't believe it but... I am. I'm scared." You whispered looking down, fear gripped your insides, John and you planned for kids but neither of you were sure of what Simon wanted. What if he didn't want it? What if it's his and John gets mad? What if John changed his mind?

"Really?" Looking up you sucked in a breathe as both men were smiling, "Oh baby, fuck!" John wrapped his arms around you and lifted you up kissing your cheeks, eyes and finally lips squeezing tightly before setting you down gently, "Sorry, was the too tight?"

Before you could answer Simon kissed you, his hand resting over yours on your stomach, "You're going to look so fucking sexy round with our baby when we get home." The quiet, rumbling admiration had you tingling and light.

"Promise you both will come back home to me." You whined as they sandwiched you between them their hands resting on top of our stomach, all of your guy's fingers laced together.

"We will." They promised, giving you sweet lasting kisses before leaving.

---

Upon their return, they pampered you and took care of everything, John admitting that he put in for retirement, Simon still staying listed on. When Kyle, his girl and Johnny came over one day for a football game and saw that you were pregnant John and Simon came out that Simon was now part of your guys relationship. Which had Johnny thoroughly loosing his mind while Kyle and his girl gave their congrats. You giggled as Johnny pouted about being left out only for Simon's possessive side to kick into over drive and be a thorough burrier between him and you. Through your pregnancy, Kyle's girlfriend was a steady visitor as well as Johnny, to your surprise, but he was admittedly feeling lonely and was trying to weasel his way in only to be shut down by Simon.

When the baby came, Johnny found himself a nurse that had you rolling in laughter as she ordered him around and he all but was practically wagging his tail at every order. You, John and Simon lived openly and contently raising your children. You were happy that John all but forced Simon from his shadows, your guy's love bleeding into each other, tying you all together. None of you wouldn't change anything.

[blueraineshadows]

Kinktober: Public/Voyeurism

Garreth Weasley x You

5.9k words. Tags: NSFW / smut / Public sexual activity / Modern AU / Alternative Garreth / Drummer Garreth / Dirty talk / Voyeurism / Smoking / Alcohol / Edging / Dominance kink / Piercing kink / Corset kink

Garreth AI image provided by @newbienewness much love 💜😘 This one is for you xx

As the car slowed to a stop outside the apartment building, you took out your phone and typed a quick text to let Garreth know you were outside. Leander fiddled with the climate control and glanced in the rear view mirror at you. “Are you warm enough?” He asked. 

You met his honey-brown gaze in the mirror and smiled. “I’m fine, Lee.” 

Andrew put the finishing touches to his hand rolled cigarette and held it up, turning in the front passenger seat to look at you. “Are you sure you don’t want one?” 

You wrinkled your nose and shook your head. “No thanks. I thought you were quitting.” 

“Next month,” he smirked, sticking the roll-up between his lips. 

“That’s what you said last time,” you said, shaking your head. 

Leander reached across from the driver seat and plucked the cigarette from Andrew’s lips. “Mate, not in the car. How many times?” 

Andrew swiped his prize back with a smirk. “Sorry, mum.” 

“I’m not your bloody mum,” Leander grumbled, smoothing his hand over the dashboard lovingly. “I just like to keep a clean car.” 

Biting back a chuckle as the pair began to bicker in the front of Leander’s spotlessly clean car, you turned to look out the window and saw Garreth sauntering down the path towards you. His black jeans were slung low on his hips, his Doc Martin’s still untied. He wore a black Slipknot T-shirt with no jacket, exposing his drummer's arms covered in full sleeve tattoos on both sides.

Your lips twitched as you studied him. Scruffy as usual, his red hair a tumble of unruly waves about his ears and curling across his freckled forehead, with one hand in his pocket and the other holding his phone, he was the epitome of unhurried nonchalance. Not a lot fazed Garreth, and he seemed to drift through life with a smile, cracking jokes and causing mayhem in his wake. 

You had known him since school, grown up with him, Leander, Andrew, and the rest of the gang. He’d always been a friend, a constant. His sparkling green eyes and cheeky smile meant the world to you. More than he realised, perhaps. 

Pushing that train of thought aside, you shifted in your seat as he climbed into the backseat with you, dipping you a devilish wink as he reached around the front passenger seat to ruffle Andrew’s silken blonde hair.

“Since when do you get to ride shotgun, Larson?” He joked, chuckling as Andrew slapped his hand away. Unfazed, he made a fist and bumped it against Leander’s waiting fist. “How are we doing, lads? I’m ready for a few beers. I hope this band lives up to the hype tonight, I keep hearing good things about them.” 

Leander put the car in gear and pulled away, heading towards town and the venue for tonight’s entertainment. Garreth snapped his seat belt into place, his eyes taking you in properly. He whistled, low and long. “Damn, you’re looking mighty fine this evening. Looking to pull?” 

A blush stained your cheeks, and you lifted a hand to nervously touch against the lacy edge of the corset you’d worn. It was black and red silk, twinned with a flared black, lacy skirt and chunky boots with thigh-high socks. The corset pushed your breasts up into tempting curves, a silver pendant resting just above your cleavage on a silver chain. You had a black jacket with you, but for now, your skin was on show, displaying a shoulder tattoo and long, black lace, fingerless gloves.  

“Maybe,” you replied, lifting your shoulder in a half shrug, secretly pleased he approved of the provocative get up. “I’m keeping my options open.” 

His grin was sinful. “With those beauties on show, you’ll be spoilt for choice.” 

You heard Leander’s sigh from the front, and just knew he was rolling his eyes. “Fuck sake, Gaz. Could you be any more obvious?” 

Garreth smirked. “Yeah, yeah. Tell me you didn’t cop an eyeful yourself.” 

Your gaze lifted to the rearview and Leander gave you a quick glance, his cheeks flushing. You reached forward to pat his shoulder. “Ignore him, Lee. If I didn’t want people looking at them, I wouldn’t make a show of what I’ve got. You’re all good.” 

Used to their banter, and quite often giving as good as you got, you settled back in your seat with a smirk.

“Hey, I want good boy pats,” Garreth pouted, giving you puppy eyes. 

“Pfft, that would mean you behaving for once,” you scoffed, throwing him a look. You gestured to his feet. “You could start by tying your shoelaces. Such a scruff.” 

He wrinkled his nose in an impish way that honestly shouldn’t be that cute, and poked out his tongue at you, offering a glimpse of the black stud pierced through it. He had a black bar in his eyebrow, several piercings in his ears, and beneath his black T-shirt you knew there was one through his nipple. 

“I’ll bite that damn tongue off one of these days,” you warned, snapping your teeth at him. 

“I dare you,” he said quietly, rolling his tongue suggestively, his top lip toying with the stud. Your gaze dropped to the movement, a stirring feeling simmering to life low down in your belly, reminding you of when he first got that piercing. You’d been curious about it, and one night he’d given you a taste of how it would feel to kiss with a stud. 

A one-off you’d both called it, just a little experiment. It was ages ago. But, you still thought about it, especially when he teased you like this.

“Behave,” you said, slapping his knee, ignoring the way your skin seemed to flush all over, turning your head to face forward as you tried to think of something else, anything else. 

His chuckle was dangerous as he settled back into his seat, lifting one foot up to begin tying his laces. “Are we picking Poppet up, too?” 

“Meeting her there,” Leander said, keeping his eyes on the road. “I did offer, but she said she was running late.” 

Poppy was the other girl in your circle, and your best friend. Garreth had been calling her Poppet for years, claiming she was small enough to fit in a pocket. Pocket Poppet. She may be small, but she was feisty and full of life, and had no trouble keeping these heathens in line. It made her the ideal person to manage their band, ensuring they were where they needed to be, and making sure they got the best gigs. She had been running their affairs for almost two years now, and they were steadily growing in popularity and fame. Soon, you feared that nights out like this would begin to change, no longer being able to be in public without them being recognised. It had already started in small doses locally. 

As Leander pulled into the car park, Garreth was already unbuckling his seat belt, grinning as he spotted their frontman, Sebastian, sitting on a low wall on his phone. They stuck their middle fingers up at each other in greeting, Sebastian’s grin matching Garreth’s. 

Climbing out of the car, you felt the flutter of excitement in your tummy, anticipating time spent with your friends seeing a local band. Life kept getting in the way, and you cherished these get-togethers. It was just what you needed. 

…*…

The press of bodies surged towards the wall of sound inside the venue, beams of light cutting through the darkness and highlighting the sweaty faces of the crowd as the band delivered. They were good. Really good. Clean vocals mixed with edgy screams, all packaged in tight drumming and filthy guitar riffs.

You had managed to get down near the front, Poppy’s head bouncing up and down at the barrier in front of you. Andrew was on one side, Sebastian on the other, with Leander and Garreth behind you. The lads had been recognised by a few people in the crowd. They had played here themselves on many occasions, and the regulars greeted them warmly. 

Two enthusiastic lads behind were jumping around, a pit forming. You were buzzing, sweat trickling at the back of your neck, a smile on your face. As the pit began to erupt, you felt an arm slide about your waist, holding you steady as the chaos whirled behind you. Tilting your head back, Garreth’s smile shone down on you, his lips grazing your temple. You didn’t necessarily need his help. You loved a good pit rumble, but you let his hand remain against your abdomen anyway. 

The grind of the guitars assaulted your ears as your body swayed, your back rubbing closely against Garreth’s chest. You tried not to think about his hand splayed against the front of your corset, or the way his fingers were dragging across the silk and lace, not to mention the heat of his breaths against the sweat on your neck. Suddenly, the music didn’t seem to fill you as much as it had been, every sense tuning in to him instead. 

Your eyes darted to each of your friends, all of them bouncing and shifting to the music, their focus on the stage and keeping their feet, none of them were watching you melt into Garreth’s hold. Had you pressed back further, your shape moulded to his? It really shouldn’t feel this good, but it did. Your arms were raised, hand bouncing to the filthy riff line. You gave a roll of your hips, the curve of your ass rubbing against the front of Garreth’s jeans. It was really bloody loud in the venue, but you still heard the hitch in his breath, felt it against the sensitive skin below your ear. 

A simmering burn coiled up through you, making you bite your lip as you dared to shift your hips again. His grip curled tighter against the corset, his other hand cupping your hip as he pressed even closer into you, your own lungs constricting as his nose brushed up against your jaw. Your eyes fluttered to stare up at the arched ceiling, a criss cross of coloured beams strobing over it as your body undulated with his.

The corset suddenly felt too tight, restrictive, your breasts heaving above it as you felt the undeniable press of a hard-on against your arse. Alcohol, adrenaline, and pure desire lit your veins, giving you the audacity to rub suggestively against that swelling length, and you were rewarded with a filthy groan into your ear. 

Gulping at the sheer sin of it, you side-eyed Andrew, but he wasn’t looking. Seb was fully focused on the band, his arm reaching to grasp the barrier whilst shielding Poppy from the surging press behind you all. You couldn’t see Leander. What if he was watching you? Noticing the way Garreth was pressing his pelvis tightly against you, how dangerously close his mouth was to your neck. 

“Wanna play?” Garreth breathed into your ear, his fingers dragging lazy circles over your hip. 

Heat pulsed outwards from your core, your mind scrambling. Oh, but you did want to play. So bad. It was risky, though. He was one of your best friends, you could be seen by your other mates and the press of people around you. What if it fucked things up between you? 

“People can see us,” you pointed out, turning your head so he could hear you. That was a dangerous move, though. Your mouth hovered near his, your eyes clashing with blazing green. He ran his tongue stud over his top lip, slowly. The git knew what he was doing and grinned, his fingers grasping your jaw to turn your head back towards the stage. Your heart pounded in your throat. 

“Focus on the stage, act normal,” he murmured into your ear, his lips brushing against the shell of it. You shivered, but did as he asked. His fingers dragged down from your jaw, across your throat and over your shoulder, drawing goosebumps in a shuddering wave over your flesh. “Nod if you want to play.” 

Heart hammering behind your ribs, blood thrumming with madness, you nodded.

“Good girl,” he whispered. 

Fuck! 

Breathless, you moved with the crowd, Garreth holding you close even though you arched willingly against him. Every long, lingering look that had passed between you, every flirty comment, every teasing and daring touch, the weight of suggestion that hung between you both, it had all led to this. 

“I love this corset,” he murmured into your ear, fingers tracing at your waist. “So fucking sexy.” 

You fought to keep your attention on the lead singer as Garreth’s hand slid to the small of your back. You felt his fingers hook up under the laces of the corset, and a flare of panic shot through you. Was he going to loosen them? You pressed your hand to your breasts, breathing hard. 

“It’s killing me,” he moaned, and he tugged playfully on the bindings. “I want to fuck you in this. Say you’ll let me.” 

Gasping you turned your head, almost crying out as his fingers pressed to your jaw and turned you back. “Focus, sweetheart,” he warned, pressing his hips into you, his dick nudging eagerly. He risked a quick peck of his lips near your ear. “Be good for me.” 

Grasping your silver pendant because you needed to cling to something, you bit your lip and squirmed, the need for friction burning a blazing trail between your thighs. The very idea of him fucking you whilst wearing the corset had you trembling, thighs clenching with aching anticipation. 

His hips flexed into you, his hand sliding down your hip until you felt his fingertips graze against your outer thigh. The skirt was short, lacy, and flared, your bare flesh on show above the lace topped, long socks you wore. His breath ghosted your neck, your pulse thundering in response. 

“Nod for yes, shake for no,” he instructed into your ear. “And if you wanna stop at any point, three taps on my arm or leg. Okay?” 

You could barely breathe, eyes wide as you strained to keep them fixed on the stage and not turn to look at him. This dominance was seriously hot, a side of him that intrigued you, made you ache something fierce. 

His fingers slid around your thigh and up under the skirt to deliver a playful pinch to the curve of your arse. “Answer me, sweetheart. I can't hear you in here. Show me you understand.” 

“Fuck,” you muttered, jumping at the pinch, certain he was going to melt your brains. You nodded quickly, showing him you understood. It was the ‘three taps to stop’ command that had sent you spiralling. What was he planning to do!?

“Good girl,” he praised into your ear, making your eyes briefly close at the exquisite throb of need it drew from you. “So, now we play. Later, you’re going to let me fuck you in this corset, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you breathed, nodding obediently. 

He hummed near your ear. “I’d do it now if I could get away with it.” 

He would, what!? 

You swallowed hard, legs shaking, your bodies still moving to a rhythm. The crowd surged, and you had to brace your hands against Sebastian’s back. His T-shirt was soaked with sweat. The heat of the venue compounded with the chaos of the crowd, the very air seeming to crackle with electric charge. Or, maybe that was Garreth’s wandering hands and filthy mouth. Either way, you were slowly losing it as he rubbed his dick against you in deliberate strokes, enticing you, a daring promise for later.

Leander leaned over you both, sweat beading his freckled forehead. “Bloody hell, you two need to get a room,” he hissed. 

Garreth chuckled. “You could lend us your car keys,” he suggested. 

Leander screwed his face up. “Fuck off. You’re not getting cum stains all over my seats.” 

Garreth burst into laughter, the sound rumbling through his chest and into your back. “Guess you gotta keep acting innocent, sweetheart,” he said, loosening his grip slightly as the song ended and the crowd cheered. 

The band took a moment to chug water, the front man thanking the crowd. You stood there, oddly bereft as Garreth put a slither of space between you whilst he chatted with Andrew and Leander. Poppy glanced back with a grin, her face flushed. You managed a smile, certain your blown out eyes and burning skin would give you away, but she didn’t say anything. The crowd surrounded you with no clue how your blood burned for the man behind you, his murmured words and roaming hands igniting something wicked deep inside you that needed release.

As a chord rang out from the lead guitar, the crowd called out expectantly, Sebastian sticking his fingers in his mouth to whistle loudly. Yes, start playing, you silently begged. Get the crowd’s focus back so Garreth can put his hands on you again. 

Oh, you had it bad. You were done for, worries be damned, you craved him. 

“You want a beer?” Andrew asked, placing a gentle hand on your arm. You turned and declined despite feeling thirsty, your gaze catching Garreth’s as he stared your way.

His green eyes had darkened, his gaze loaded with all the promise he had poured into your ear. You couldn’t help but blush, tucking your hair behind your ear as the band erupted into a fresh wall of sound. The light show dipped and flashed, throwing colours across Garreth’s face as he manoeuvred himself back behind you. You shivered as his hands came down on your shoulders, turning you forward, his thumbs rubbing circles into your taut muscles. 

“Relax,” he said into your ear, his hands sliding down your arms. You took a deep breath that exhaled as a quiet moan when you felt the soft tease of his tongue at the nape of your neck. Oh, God…the tongue stud…

The crowd surged and his arm encircled your waist, pulling you in tight. His warmth pressed against your back, and you both began to move to the music. He had a good rhythm. Essential for a drummer, but his body encapsulated it, making your imagination spin out with intriguing ideas. Doing as he asked, you relaxed, rolling your hips until you could feel that promising bulge pressing firmly against you. 

“You okay?” He asked. 

You nodded, and he pressed a slow kiss to your neck, dragging his mouth higher and leaving a trail of hot breath in his wake, before curling his tongue around your earlobe. How could people not realise what he was doing to you? Your gaze darted about, but people really weren’t paying you any mind. You practically panted out each breath, your senses honed in what Garreth was doing to you, his hand drifting down to the hem of your skirt. 

“Stay focused on the band, darling,” he urged, his voice hoarse now as he continued to grind sensually against your arse. His fingers grazed the skin of your thigh along the hem of your skirt. “Look at the drummer. Watch his hands.”

Watch his hands? Was he kidding? How could you concentrate on those when his own hand was snaking up under the hem of your skirt? 

You touched your fingers to your forehead, your cheek, your skin burning. Maybe you should have accepted Andrew’s offer of a beer if only to press the cool cup to your face. 

“Mmm, so soft,” Garreth groaned, his caress sweeping under the curve of your arse cheek and squeezing reverently. 

Heart pounding, your feet shuffled as the crowd pressed forward again, Garreth steadying you with one hand whilst the other slid between your thighs from behind. Your gasp was shockingly loud, but lost to the deafening roar of the space, your pelvis flexing shamelessly against his hand as he rubbed it against the drenched cotton of your knickers. 

“Bloody hell, I need to get in there,” he growled, his teeth sinking into your shoulder. 

“Garreth,” you whined, eyes blown wide as you both staggered. 

Instinctively, you grabbed and found Leander’s arm to steady yourself, fingers clutching at the freckled flesh of his forearm. He turned to look, his eyes lifting to meet your flushed face whilst Garreth buried his face into the back of your neck. You flushed a deeper red but lifted your hand to press a finger to your lips, your eyes pleading. 

“Fucking heathens,” Leander said, shaking his head. He moved closer, bending to speak into your ear. “Really? In front of all these people?” 

His eyes met yours again, so close this time. The heightened pleasure gained from the risk was new, but very powerful. It even aroused you to know that Leander was fully aware of what you were doing. You could see it in his eyes, and it made your desire throb harder. 

“Should’ve given us the car keys,” Garreth said, and you could hear the grin in his voice. Cocky shit. His hand was still between your thighs and he thumbed along your knickers, almost making you choke as you stared at Leander. 

“Can’t believe I’m going to say this,” Leander said, pushing his hand through his copper hair. “Stand behind me. Use me as a shield, but for fuck sake, Garreth, keep your dick in your pants.” 

You stared at Leander, heart thumping. This was a bit different to letting him have a cheeky ogle at your chest. This was practically voyeurism. He met your eyes, a slight flush staining his cheeks. Garreth pinched your arse again, and you mentally shook yourself, nodding up at the tall red head. He nodded back and turned around. 

Leander was a very tall bloke, not the kind you wanted to get stuck behind at a gig, but you were grateful to be pressed up against his back right then. The pit was chaos behind you, Garreth’s fingers biting into your waist as you stumbled. You grabbed hold of Leander’s t-shirt, your face level with his shoulder blades. Pitched forwards suddenly, you found yourself pressed firmly up against his back, trapped between the two men. 

“Nice, a ginger sandwich,” Garreth chuckled into your ear. “Don’t get any ideas, though, darling. You’re all mine.” 

Fuck knows what Leander must have been thinking, but any thoughts you may have had on the matter were obliterated when Garreth’s fingers found their way under your knickers and pressed against your entrance. Your breathless moan was smothered against Leander’s back, your hips tilting to give Garreth easier access and he did not disappoint. You were so ready for him that two of his fingers slid deep. You heard Garreth swear, his fingers pumping into you, your own fingers curled like claws into the side of Leander’s T-shirt. 

You should have been mortified, embarrassed, but you weren’t. Aroused beyond belief, you had to resist the urge to bite Leander, Garreth slowly driving you towards the edge of oblivion as he began to circle in search of your throbbing clit. Your hips bucked as he hit it, drawing another moan from you. Your eyes rolled, your cheek pressed against Leander’s back. You could feel his quickened breaths and you knew this was affecting him. 

Leander was your friend, too, and he really didn’t have to do this. Feeling the need to connect somehow, perhaps as a thank you, or maybe just to reassure him that you really were okay with this, your hand slid downwards, seeking out his hand. When you found it, you gripped it, and he linked his fingers with yours. 

Garreth nuzzled into your neck, lips and teeth taking what he wanted, rutting shamelessly against you as he chased your release. “Look at you, my dirty girl,” Garreth groaned. “Are you going to cum?” 

You nodded weakly, certain he had complete control over you at this point, your knees trembling as you felt the familiar tightening at your core. Then you were whining in protest as his hand suddenly slipped free. The crowd had shifted again, and the three of you staggered as one. The song was ending, and you were dangling by a trembling thread, the blistering ache between your thighs begging for mercy. Garreth was smoothing down your skirt, your back sticky with sweat that felt chilled with his absence. You weren’t ready to stop yet. Your orgasm had been so damn close. 

This was the most torturous form of edging ever. 

Sucking in your breaths, you let Leander’s hand go. He glanced back at you and you managed a shaky smile. You couldn't take much more of this. “Be right back,” you said. 

Turning to Garreth, you hooked a finger into the belt loop of his jeans and pressed your mouth to his ear, his wild hair tickling your flushed face. “Get me out of here, Garreth, and finish what you started.” 

His wicked grin added a fresh wave to the fire burning in your blood, and then you were being dragged through the press of the crowd, muttering apologies in your wake. Through a side door, and down a corridor, Garreth led you by the hand. Smirking over his shoulder he gave your fingers a squeeze. “You alright, gorgeous? You’re looking a bit flushed, there.” 

“I wonder why,” you drawled, glancing up at a sign above a door that said ‘crew only’. Garreth opened it. “What are you doing?” You hissed, halting him in his tracks. 

He merely grinned and tapped the side of his nose. “Don’t worry, I know most of the guys that work here. I intend on getting you very much alone and all to myself. You still wanna play with me?” 

Oh, his eyes were going to be the end of you. 

Pulse racing, you glanced back down the corridor, the heavy thrum of the gig still rocking through the walls. Nodding, you followed him through the door. “Let’s fuck,” you smirked. 

With nothing to stop you now, your hands and mouth became greedy. Sequestered in a random room, the door firmly closed, you let Garreth slam you against the wall. Face to face this time, you could freely push your hands into his hair, gripping the wavy strands as he claimed your mouth. At the first silky slide of his tongue, you moaned at the drag of his piercing, flicking the tip of your tongue to toy with it. He chuckled against your mouth, his hands already under your skirt and pushing it up so he could grasp your hips. 

“You like my tongue stud, don’t you?” He murmured, delicately dragging it backwards against your top lip. His eyes burned into yours. “Imagine what I can do with it down here…” 

He rubbed his fingers against your heat, watching you intently, reawakening your slumbering need to come with measured strokes. 

“Mmm, imagine that,” you sighed, grinding yourself against his hand. 

“So greedy,” he groaned, hooking his fingers under the fabric of your knickers and dragging them down over your hips. His mouth sucked at the soft swell of your breasts pushing up out of the corset. “I love these,” he mumbled against your flesh, cupping a hand to one, his thumb circling in languid strokes. 

“You can remove the corset, get a proper taste,” you suggested. 

He smiled, humming thoughtfully as he pressed slow kisses up towards your neck. “No, the corset stays on. For now, at least.” 

“For now?” 

“Oh, you’re coming home with me, love,” he said, tucking your hair behind your ear. His thumb grazed your jaw. “I plan on fucking you into my mattress until you can barely walk. I’ve waited a long time to get my hands on you, and I’m going to savour every minute.” 

Biting your lip, you studied his face. A face you knew so well, but the way he was looking at you right now made you weak at the knees. “You’ve waited a long time?”

He unfastened his jeans, pressed your thighs apart, and sucked at your lower lip with a groan. “Always wanted you. Couldn’t be sure you felt the same.” 

Your heart thumped and skipped, your grip on him subtly tightening. “I do,” you admitted. 

His slow smile did things to you, hot, burning things. He lifted you against the wall, wrapping your legs around his waist. You felt the nudge of his hard dick slide against your thigh.

“Remember the rules, darling,” he said against your mouth, teasing your lips with kisses as he palmed over the lace tops of your high socks. “Want to stop? Use your words, and if you can’t, tap me out. Like this.” 

He tapped his fingers three times against your outer thigh. Your hands were under his T-shirt, mapping the hard lines of his body and exploring the softness of his tummy, but you remembered to nod your understanding like the good girl you were. His teeth nipped your lip. “Are you ready?” 

You nodded, fingers seeking out his nipple piercing and tugging gently. His forehead pressed against yours and he groaned, his hips seeking you out. With a guiding hand, he pressed inwards, his thick tip stretching you with delicious slowness. Buried to the hilt, he leaned back and looked down, grinding in as far as he could get himself. “Look at that, a perfect fit,” he smirked. 

As chaotic and carefree as Garreth blazed through life, he fucked with consistency and concentrated effort. You clung to his shoulders, your back scraping against the dingy wall as he pounded into you with a punishing rhythm. You remembered how he had moved against you in the pit, the promise of it. The reality had your fingernails biting into his flesh, his grip on your hips and thighs almost bruising. In the quiet of the back room, the sound of it was elicit, he was so vocal. His breathless groans were hot against your neck, not to mention the whispered filth he poured into your ears, praising you for being a good girl one moment, degrading you the next. 

It made you tighten with exquisite heat, your back arching as your hips greedily met his. Pushing up his T-shirt to expose his torso, you raked fingers down his freckled skin, thoughts and reason scattering like leaves on the wind. 

He slowed, rolling his hips, his breathing deep and measured. Reaching down between you both, he pressed his thumb against your slick folds, angling himself so that as he thrust in, he could rub against you. Tight little circles had you squirming, so full of him and stimulated, your lungs worked over time. 

“Want you to cum on my dick,” he breathed into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. He slid his dick further out, wrapping his hand around it, teasing you with tip thrusts whilst his thumb worked on you.  

“Oh…fuuuck.” Your head spun, heat pooling thick and fast as you slapped a hand against the wall. 

“Just wait till I get you home, darling.” His thrusts were timed perfectly with his thumb, driving a rhythm that had your thighs quaking. 

“Garreth…” His name escaped as a breathless whine as you began to slip into a haze of abandonment. 

“Gonna use my tongue on you.” He curled said tongue into your mouth, caressing yours with his piercing, his drummers rhythm keeping everything in perfect time. “Gonna rub it over your needy clit, and fuck it into your cunt. Like this.” 

His hoarse words had you uttering a filthy moan as he fucked his tongue into your mouth, his pace quickening between your thighs. You felt the wave of an orgasm cresting, your hips bucking with need. Your mouths were a tangled, breathless mess. The distant thrum of the gig in the background felt like light years away, so lost you were in this steamy sex bubble with him.

White spots danced behind your eyelids as you came hard, moaning his name as he thrust deeper into you, wanting to feel how you tightened around him. He fucked you through it, his mouth tasting the sweat on your throat. You felt his urgency in his movement, your eyes blinking through the daze, your limbs languid as he buried deep with a filthy moan. He pressed his palm to your lower abdomen, his eyes glazing over, his dick pulsing hot spurts of cum into you. 

“Feel that?” He rasped, grinding even deeper. “Uhh, fuck yes. Mine…so full of me.” 

He pulled you in close, his hands caressing you all over in long soothing strokes, his kisses softer and more gentle. The look in his eyes had shifted from hungry and feral, to a Garreth you were more familiar with. The ache inside had subsided, but something equally as warm was unfurling, making you smile up at him.

“We have definitely crossed a line now,” you murmured, playing with his hair. “I don’t know if this one will be as easily shrugged off as the kiss we had before.” 

“What if I don’t want to shrug this one off? Like I said, I want you in my bed tonight. I’m not done,” he said, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours. His eyes had a hint of pleading to them, a vulnerability that made your tummy twist pleasantly. “Say you feel the same.” 

Your gaze dipped to his mouth, your thumb sliding over his lower lip and inwards, seeking out his piercing. It turned you on, fascinated you. “It is tempting. Especially what you promised to do with this.” 

His chuckle was filthy and he swirled his tongue over your thumb, sucking it further into his mouth with a groan. He was so sexy, making your body feel alive with how he looked at you. 

“Do we have to go back to the others?” You sighed. 

“Lee is our ride home,” he said. His hand slid over your hip, gliding between your thighs so he could swipe his thumb against you, making you gasp at the sensitivity. He smirked, his eyes devilish. “Plus, I get to sit there knowing you're leaking my spunk all over his spotless seats.” 

“Garreth,” you scolded, slapping his arm. His answering chuckle was wicked. “Poor Lee. I can’t believe he used himself as a shield for us.” 

“For you, you mean. He will be getting off on you moaning into his back for weeks. Trust me,” he smirked. 

You blushed as you straightened your skirt, remembering the intensity of almost reaching an orgasm in the middle of a crowd. You eyed Garreth as he fastened his jeans, his waves of ginger hair falling across his freckled face. 

“What about you? Will you be getting off over that little public display out there? You were rock solid against my arse.” 

He grinned, swiping his hair back before wrapping an arm around you. “I had a little help with that. You were rubbing that damn fine arse against me for a start, and as for these…” 

He hooked a finger into the tops of your high socks and bit his lip, snapping them back against your thigh. “And this…” 

He smoothed his hand up over the silk and lace off your corset, palming against a breast. He groaned and kissed your mouth, an edge of that heated hunger returning as you paused near the door. 

No, this definitely couldn’t be swept aside and forgotten. It wasn’t over. If anything, it was merely just beginning. 

[iguessweallcrazyithinktho]

Request for Jude: (based on his team trip to UCLA lmao)

But could you do a fanfic where Jude invites yn along to the UCLA college with him and as he signing autographs he notices a group of male students surrounding her, talking to her and he gets jealous.

I live for jealous Jude😭🤦🏾‍♀️

UCLA • Jude Bellingham

Warning: none just three other men involved. They're not named. Slightly described

Word count: 600+

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x f reader

Finally wrote the Jude Masterlist right here

Enjoy

✿﹕ ︵︵✧₊︵︵ꕤ₊˚︵ ૮꒰˵• ᵜ •˵꒱ა ﹕ɞ

You were very happy to accompany your boyfriend Jude on his preseason tour with the US. The moment he asked you to tag along, you were ready, bags packed faster than he could get out his question.

The first stop on the tour was Los Angeles. The team was training on the college campus of UCLA. While Jude was out training on the field, you stayed in a shaded seating area, waiting for him to finish up. He promised you he’d spend the little bit of time he had to take you around the city.

You were scrolling through your phone when you felt a presence beside you. You looked up to see three guys standing there. They were blondes, dressed in shorts, graphic hoodies and a backpack on their back. They were obviously students of UCLA from the way they were dressed. They gave you major fuck boy vibes.

You smiled at them politely. “Hello.”

One of the guys smiled at you. “What are you doing here all alone?”

“Um I’m waiting on someone.” “a friend.” You laughed at the question. “Sure you can say that.”

You turned back to your phone Hoping it was the end of the conversation, but unfortunate for you it wasn’t .

“Do you go to school here?” one of the other boys asked. You wanted to tell them to go fuck off, but you choose the nice route today.

“No I don’t . I’m not from here at all.”

“Oh we’re you from?” one of the guys slipped into the seat across from you. “I’m from Spain. Ok look.” You stood up grabbing your phone and the water you brought to stay hydrated.

“I should probably get going so I’m going to go.” On cue you heard the irrupt of fans which only meant one thing. The boys were finished training. Thank God.

“We heard there’s these professional players here from Spain. They got a game here in a couple of days.”

You nodded walking slowly to where the crowd was gathered. The guys beside you kept talking but your focus was on Jude who was signing jerseys. He hadn’t spotted you yet.

“Apparently they’re really good but we haven’t watched them. The sport isn’t interesting to be honest. They’re just kicking the ball back and forth for what.” They hummed amongst each other agreeing on their friends stupidity.

As you were about to tell them to shut and stop following you. You heard your name being called by a familiar voice.

“Y/n.”

Mentally you breathed a sigh of relief knowing your nightmare was over.

You looked up to see jude. He looked between the men and back to you. You looked at him in a help me face hoping he’d get the hint.

“Hi baby.” Jude wrapped his arm around you. He kissed your temple before turning to the guys. “Who are they?”

“To be completely honest, I don’t know. They haven’t stopped talking enough for that.”

Jude hummed. “ok I get it. Now if you lads don’t mind, I’m going to steal my girlfriend away from you. See you around.”

Jude spun you around away from the confused men. You laughed, but said nothing to Jude until you were far away from the watchful eyes of the crowd.

“Sorry I didn’t come in time to stop those frats from getting to you.” Jude wrapped his arms around you, hugging you.

“It’s ok. I kinda like watching you get jealous.”

“Jealous?” Jude pulled away from you. “Whos jealous love?”

“You.” You poked your finger in his. “You get all touchy and you love making it known you’re my boyfriend when guys is talking to me.”

You looked up at him watching as he rolled his eyes at you. He knew it was true.

“Well they need to know you’re taken. Nobody deserves your pretty ass but me.” Jude kissed your nose as you laughed. "I'm all yours."

Jude pulled away from you. “Ok I gotta get back." He kissed you. "but you’re staying close. Don’t need anymore blonde college boys to hit on you”

You let out an aw as Jude walked away shaking his head.

[weeb-polls-with-pip]

Autistic Anime Boys Tournament Bracket

Heeey guys! It’s finally time for our next tournament! Get ready to pit all your favorite autistic anime* boys against one another~ 😈😈😈 The same rules as the autistic anime girls poll apply here, but I will reiterate them below.

*Note: I understand that the term ‘anime’ does not, semantically, apply to every character that I will allow into the poll—I am simply using the term in a general manner, because it is quick to say and widely recognized. Characters from print media (i.e. manga, manhwa, manhua), ‘anime-style’ webcomics and games/visual novels, and from non-Japanese East Asian animation like donghua and hanguk aeni are welcome as well.

No western media, unless the characters are deliberately designed in an 'anime-style’ (ex: in the past, I have allowed characters from things like DDLC). It can't be a temporary or one-off gag style-change either. It must be the series' regular artstyle. Judging this will be my subjective opinion, but I am going to be excluding animation that stylistically toes the line (sorry AtLA and VLD fans).

Don't submit Shigeo Kageyama from Mob Psycho 100. His autism swag is too powerful and iconic, so I've decided he will be the mascot of this tourney. The winner of the poll will be rewarded with a special exhibition match against Mob. 👍👍

The characters do not need to be canonically autistic. Headcanons are perfectly fine.

You can submit as many characters as you like, but do not submit the same character multiple times.

Submit characters through the designated Google form. Any sent through asks/messages/any other means will be ignored and you’ll be kindly redirected to the form. Just keeps things more organized this way.

Don't be a dick if your fav loses. Please. Let's all be civil here and have a good time. Doing tumblr polls is entirely for fun!

Definitely send propaganda for the contestants! I love hearing people infodump about their favs.

This time around, I will not make submitting propaganda a requirement on the form, but it does significantly increase your character’s chances of getting into the bracket.

I will attempt to be more selective for this poll, to avoid an enormous bracket like last time (I just have a tendency to get attached to submissions and can’t help but let in as many as I can 😅), but I won’t officially decide on the number of competitors until after submissions close.

Good luck! May the best boy win!

SUBMISSIONS OPEN NOV. 28TH – JAN. 2ND

Tagging other poll blogs below the cut.

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[skellymom]

“Who Delt It?” 

The THIRD Bad Batch Comedy One Shot in the ONE SHIT SERIES!

To read #2 in the series:

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/740278235151106049/bombs-away?source=share

Background: Five people on a small ship with one bathroom. Need I say more?

Word count: 392 words

Warning: Farts, stinky humor, pretty tame stuff for Tumblr

“Well, I’m ready for a nap!” Echo leaned back in the co-pilot's seat and closed his eyes. 

“Likewise. Unfortunately, the Marauder won’t fly herself.” Tech sipped his caf enthusiastically, firing up the ship to take off. 

The Batch had just finished a mission on an Outer Rim planet and made friends with the locals there. The locals insisted they share a huge cauldron of stew the community ate together... 

...unfortunately, it ran through EVERYONE in the squad by varying degrees and resulted in some...flatulence. 

“OOF! WHAT THE KRIFF??? WRECKER!!!” Echo screwed up his face in utter disgust. 

“HEEYY, it wasn’t ME!”  

“You ALWAYS state that Wrecker. Whomever smelt it is NOT definitive proof of whomever delt it.” Tech pinched his nose while speaking, his voice sounding comical with a partially obstructed airway. 

Echo frantically waved the offending vapors away, “BLEH!” More dramatic facial expressions. 

Wrecker sat angrily, arms crossed, sulking he had been wrongly blamed. 

At that moment Hunter emerged from the fresher, clearly not “privy” to the current conversation, “You know lads, I...” He stopped DEAD, sniffed, coughed, choked, eyes starting to water. “WHAT THE SUN BAKED BANTHA TURD IS THAT???” 

“Wrecker farted!” Echo fanned his face and grimaced. 

“No... cough...can’t be...cough. Doesn’t have the same smell. Undertones are ALL wrong.” Hunter now had his “Tracker Face” on trying to discern the source of the stench. 

“What! You can IDENTIFY people’s farts by their SMELL???” Echo was incredulous. 

Tech interjected “Of course. Hunter IS known for his enhanced sense of smell. That is how Crosshair became LEGENDARY for his flatulence. He earned the ‘Silent But Deadly” moniker. No matter what mission we were on, or who we served with: The 212th, 501st, Coruscant Guard, or any other. Hunter never failed to pick out Crosshair with a shipload of Republic ration eating clones.” 

Hunter chuckled, “Got to be a game for Crosshair after awhile. Silently drop one and watch all the Regs get mad at each other for stinking the place up. He was proud of it really...but Crosshair ain’t here.” Hunter turned to look at the offending party. 

Everyone else turned to face Omega, silently sitting next to Wrecker hand over her nose and mouth. 

“SORRY!” She yelled embarrassingly, jumped off the chair, ran to the refresher, and slammed the door. 

Wrecker threw up his hands, “GEEZ! I CAN’T CATCH A BREAK WITH YOU GUYS!!!” 

PLEASE like, comment, and/or REBLOG!

IF YOU WISH TO BE ADDED OR DROPPED FROM MY TAG LIST, PLEASE MESSAGE ME! Don't just comment as I might miss it. Thanks!!! <3

[agendabymooner]

baby said ! daniel r. x ofc (måneskin member! ofc)

"i'm not afraid of you being vulgar, but why are you so vicious?"

summary: lester and danny ARE NOT in love. OR go dumpster diving in the comments section of daniel and lester as they continue to love each other, disrespectfully <3 (and is danny serious about his proposal?)

content warnings: it's literally just danny and lester being messy in twitter and instagram (bit of thirst tweets incoming), brief use of explicit language, some shitty proposals because i don't know how relationship transitions work lol, simp!lester and simp!danny. maneskin members appearance in the comment section.

note: demon time but it's daniel ricciardo this time. just so you guys know, this series is not done in order. i'm just posting certain headcanons that i can come up with as my brain keeps functioning. by the way, have you checked out my toto wolff fic yet?

let me know what you think!!! enjoy xx

tagged loressandro

liked by ykaaar, landonorris, carlossainzjr

view 2132 more comments

ethaneskin wow loressandro hows it like being the hottest out of the two of you liked by loressandro and danielricciardo

danielricciardo please suck up to her on her page thx

loressandro i was going to say my boyfriend is actually hotter than me but nvm i guess 🙃

redbullracing she's a beauty she's grace 😇

scuderiaferrari she still wouldn't go to your paddock even if you say that to her face 😜

maxverstappen1 when she doesn't look like a hellhound for once 🤯

user1 and ur the one to talk 💀

loressandro i love u liked by danielricciardo

danielricciardo you should marry me

loressandro you should ask me in person

danielricciardo okay i'll see you tomorrow :)

loressandro okay safe trip :)

user1 mA'AM?

user2 y'all I-

tagged danielriccardio

liked by scottyjames, maneskinofficial, tillywolff

view 2231 more comments

tillywolff omgggggg!!! congratulations mia cara!!!

landonorris let the ipad kid be the ring bearer 👉👈

danielricciardo try harder then maybe we'll allow it

charles_leclerc welcome to the fifth circle lester !! liked by loressandro

loressandro thanks! dante didn't disappoint at all!

user1 WE DIDN'T THINK HE'D ACTUALLY DO IT WTF

user2 danielricciardo bestie when you say shit like that online you wouldn't actually do it.

danielricciardo i like to fuck around and find out.

user3 lester allie? nah, rizz-ter rizziardo. liked by loressandro and danielriccardo

user4 rizzter arizzandro-rizzardo liked by loressandro

loressandro this one takes the cake.

ethaneskin wooohooooo i hope that 2015 ticket was worth it liked by danielricciardo

tagged loressandro

liked by maxverstappen1, ykaaar, pierregasly

redbullracing we'll hold the reception in our paddock

scuderiaferrari you're not the first to try and snatch our italian paddock princess from us

maxverstappen1 congratulations!

pierregasly getting my suit ready what's the dress code?

loressandro nobody said you were invited tho???

pierregasly your gift from me will be nothing but disappointment.

carlossainzjr so will you finally admit that you searched for her twitter username after seeing her at their eurovision performance?

loressandro what.

user1 daniel ricciardo you are F U C K E D big time lad

danielricciardo hahaha that was meant for our 20th anniversary tbfh sorry babe.

user2 that's a nice ring! is that the one that you stole from my grandma? that's in her will i think.

danielricciardo i promise i'll find a way to feed your family

user3 there was some grave robery thing going on in our city. weren't you here yesterday?

danielricciardo i dunno what you're on about...

landonorris i lost the twitch money in my bank account. it says there was a purchase from a jewelry store. didn't you ask if you could borrow my card the other day?

danielricciardo i already paid you back?

bonus !!!

tagged danielricciardo

liked by ykaaar, thomasraggi_, georgerussell63

pierregasly you are so thirsty.

loressandro AND DON'T YOU FORGET IT MF

user1 i want her energy.

user2 i want the vibe that she gives.

user3 i want someone who'll hype me like her

user4 i want her.

danielricciardo oof same!

danielricciardo man i can't wait to smother my face with a neck pillow. liked by loressandro

user5 JAIL!!! PUT THIS MAN TO JAIL!!!

[blacktofade]

Gemtho Fortnight Day 1

Woo! Today is the first day of posting fills for the Gemtho prompts you all sent in! Due to the amount I received, I had to cut so many (I'm so sorry!!) but I hope you all have fun reading regardless. Posting is in no particular order and all prompts will be anonymous.

I'm not properly tagging any of these because I don't want to spam certain tags, but after April 14th, I'll create a masterpost with links to all the fills and tag that instead.

The prompts are copy/pasted directly from the asks I received and all content warnings will be posted outside of the cut.

Other than that? We're here to have fun. Put on your tin hats and join me, lads.

---

Prompt: prompt for the april gemtho event: either of them wearing a (hidden) remote controlled sex toy in public, controlled by the other person. was originally thinking gem wearing, etho controlling? but the other way round also works well <3

cw: rpf, exhibitionism, nsfw

Gem’s knees are already weak when she steps through the doorway of the local coffee shop, her phone clutched tightly in one hand.

“Are you there?” Etho asks, just a voice in her ear, and she reaches up to adjust her left earbud with trembling fingers as the buzzing inside her grows worse.

“Yeah,” she answers and Etho makes a noise of acknowledgement.

“Get yourself a coffee,” he orders and she has to force one foot in front of the other as she makes her way toward the counter.

The woman at the register smiles at her warmly and Gem knows she must be beet red, though she can’t do a thing about it.

“What can I get you?” she asks and Gem clears her throat, pausing to take a breath as the vibrator inside her seems to kick into its highest setting.

“How does that feel?” Etho asks and Gem ignores him the best she can.

“Just a medium latte, please,” Gem says, trying to focus as the woman rings her up, nails clacking gently on the touchscreen she’s using.

“I can’t tempt you with a slice of the banana bread we made in-house this morning?”

“You’re easy to tempt,” Etho says in her ear. “Say yes.”

Gem nods, possibly trying to answer both of them, but the barista's smile widens.

“Sure, I’d love a slice,” Gem agrees and the barista taps at the screen again, adding it to Gem’s order.

“That’ll be six fifty-three,” she says and Gem carefully gets her card out, gripping it with white knuckles when the vibrating inside of her stops abruptly.

Somehow she manages to tap her card on the reader and slip it back into her wallet.

“Would you like a receipt?”

She barely has time to focus on the question before Etho asks, “Do you miss me?”

“Yes,” Gem says immediately, before belatedly adding, “please.”

The barista smiles and passes over the receipt, which Gem instantly crumples in her grip as Etho very meanly kicks the vibrations back up to full inside her.

“Thank you,” Gem squeaks, though she’s not sure who it’s directed at, but she quickly steps away, grabbing onto the nearest chair to sit while she waits for her order.

She sags over the table, taking a breath as Etho laughs in her ear.

“Doing okay?” he asks and Gem crosses her legs and tries to sit as normally as possible.

“No,” she whines, and Etho laughs again.

“Want me to turn it down?”

“No,” Gem repeats and Etho makes a noise, like maybe he’s proud of her.

“Should I make you come before your coffee is ready?”

“Etho,” she pleads quietly and Etho hums thoughtfully.

“Y’know,” he starts, and she shuts her eyes, knowing he’s about to ruin her. “If you don’t come now, I’ll make you scream when you get home.”

Gem folds her arms on the table and rests her forehead on top, groaning quietly. “You’re trying to kill me.”

“Just a little,” Etho agrees, and she hates that she can hear the smile in his voice.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Little Earthquakes - Chapter One.

Besties! I was thrilled with the response to the prologue, thank you all so much! :) So, now the story starts properly. Sit back and get comfy!

Previous chapters - Prologue

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed.

Words - 3,972

Warnings - 18+ throughout. Minors DNI!

Immediately, her mouth dropped open. “Oh my flippin’ god! Hello!” There he was, the cute lad she’d been in the same class as at school. Except now he was even bloody cuter than he’d been at fifteen. God, those cheekbones were virtually criminal. And his eyes, wow! Had they always been that beautiful a shade of green, and she’d simply never noticed? “I thought I recognised your name when I was looking at your work, but I couldn’t place how, and where from, and I’m babbling, and oh my god, you’re Kelsey Chapman! I remember you, too!” 

She then turned to take in Chris, her mouth falling open yet again. “Chris Lawrence! Stop it, it’s a bloody Fulham Green Academy reunion!”  

“How are you, Holly? All good, ay?” he spoke, side eyeing Nathan and beaming, watching how he stood scratching the back of his neck. He always did it when he felt uncomfortable, usually when he couldn’t hide in his hair, being that his cascade of waist-length brown locks were all tied back. So, Holly still had the same effect, it seemed.  

“Yes, yes I’m good, thanks! It’s so nice to see you all,” she replied brightly as Nathan arrived with her.  

“Ready?” he asked, gesturing towards his station. 

She scrunched her nose a little. “Crapping myself to be honest! Right, where am I kotching?”  

“On the table. Lie back and get comfy, unless you’d rather sit up. Either way, I just need you to place your foot flat and bend your knee so I can press the line drawing on, check it flows okay and make sure you’re happy with it.”  

She’d emailed a few ideas to him, speaking the magic words that any tattoo artist liked to hear, that she trusted his judgement over what he came up with. Her only guide was that she wanted all the flowers to look like they were climbing up from her foot to her mid-calf.  

Since he specialised at realism, each flower would look just as she’d requested, like it had been painted on. The line drawing was a guide for him to work to only, so he could then freehand them into the allotted space. Once pressed into place, Holly took a look and confirmed she was happy, beginning to swallow hard. 

“Just take a few deep breaths, you’ll be fine,” he assured her. “It hurts, but not half as badly as some people make out.”  

“Says the man who nearly cried when I tattooed his ribs,” Kelsey called from her station, poking her tongue between her teeth. 

“Shit off,” he mumbled, looking back at Holly a little sheepishly. “Made my eyes water a bit, but any chance her over there has to make me look like a twat and she takes it.”  

“Love you!” her over there chirped, loading the needle with more ink. All Kelsey based disturbances aside and he began, doing a small section to the side of her foot and pausing. “All good?” 

Oh, no. It felt like somebody was dragging a hot knife through her flesh, but she nodded and smiled all the same. “Fine, yeah. I’m good.” He knew she wasn’t, but he was too nice to call her out on it.  

“So, you’re Holly Jenkins now?” he asked casually, remembering her name in the emails they’d exchanged. Of course, she’d be married. Women as beautiful as her didn’t remain single. “How long have you been married for?” 

“I was married for ten years, but we divorced last year. I haven’t gotten around to changing my name back as yet,” she spoke, resting her arm beneath her head.  

“Oh, sorry,” he replied, looking away briefly, watching her mouth twitch slightly. 

“Don’t be, I’m happy about it. I don’t think we were as well-suited as I once thought, so it was for the best, really.” 

“Hm, yeah,” he breathed, circling the top of the first petal, noticing her foot tense a little. To be expected. Foot tattoos weren’t the best. “I understand that. My wife and I separated three months ago after I reached the same conclusion. Proper shit, but that’s life, ain’t it?” 

“It is, and I’m sorry too, that you’re going through the same thing,” she offered, wincing slightly. “I can give you the number of a good divorce lawyer?” 

He laughed, a small burst of air through his nose. He could certainly do with one of those, to be fair. “Appreciated.” Continuing, he noticed she remained tense, pausing, patting her ankle softly with his black gloved hand. “Relax, ‘kay? Hurts more when you’re tense.”  

“I’ll try. Sorry, I probably look like a right knob to someone as heavily tattooed as you, y’know,” she confessed, Nathan beginning again. 

“Don’t mean I’m immune to pain, and it does hurt, like I said. Trust me, though, you don’t look like a knob. Had a girl in here two weeks ago who literally screamed like she was being murdered. Proper put me off, I'm telling you.”  

It reassured her a little, that her wincing and tensing was definitely at a lower level where reactions were concerned. He remained silent for a little time longer, Holly looking all around the studio, taking it in. It was a relaxed vibe, very dark academia in style with its black walls, dark wooden floors and counters, an abundance of artwork, plants dotted around everywhere and Edison lightbulbs suspended above each of the three stations.  

What caught her eye the most though, well, it was the man tattooing her. Back at school, it had always surprised her, just how lovely she thought he was, so cute with his shoulder length hair and big, green eyes. Even though it was all tied back in a half pulled through messy man bun at the nape of his neck, she wagered it was a lot longer now, but the bottle green eyes were still just as beautiful. Even more so going by her reaction at first seeing him, in fact, his eyelashes also impossibly long and inky. And bloody hell, the pout on the man. Those lips? One hundred percent kissable.  

“What are you doing for work these days, then?” he asked after a further few minutes of silence, loading the needle with dark red ink for the next flower.  

“I’m an illustrator,” she began, noticing that the pain was getting a little less. Well, either that or she was becoming more used to the hot scratches goring at her skin, one of the two. “I mainly do adult colouring and children’s books, but I also contribute for other literature and cover art as well. I just accepted a role doing the digital art for a woman’s E-Magazine, too, which has been great so far.”  

“Yeah? That’s proper sick,” he enthused, pausing to smile up at her. Oh, that smile. It lit up his entire face. “You were always really talented. Those little cartoon guys you used to do, I loved them. That unicorn dude, he was ace.” 

She could barely believe he remembered them after so long, those pictures she’d submitted on her GCSE display. “As if you remember him! Sparky the unicorn.” 

“Sparky, yeah, yeah. That was him.” In truth, he remembered exactly what the cartoon character of her creation had been called, but he didn’t want to look like a weirdo by remembering such an innocuous detail after so many years. Especially not after her surprise that he’d remembered it at all.  

“So, how long have you been tattooing for?” she then asked. 

“Right out of uni, more or less.” 

“Yeah? Wow, long time, then. Did you end up going to Loughborough like you wanted to?” 

Oh, so she’d remembered something innocuous herself too, then. “I did, yeah, yeah.”  

“I remember you telling me. Well, you wrote it down.” 

She began to chuckle, her soft giggle making his stomach tingle pleasantly, even more so when it loudened at watching him pause and close his eyes tightly for a few moments, laughing softly though his nose. “The legit shame of it.”  

“Oh, come on! You weren’t that bad!” she cried, laughing more the further his cheeks pinked. Damn, he was so cute. 

“Weren’t that bad? Holly, I couldn’t pissing speak!” He paused there, giving her a few seconds to compose her giggles. She couldn’t. Her beautiful laughter only spurred his further, both sitting there in soft fits at the memory of his fifteen-year-old self, so stoned he was rendered mute.  

“Or walk by the end of the night either,” Kelsey offered from across the shop. “Had to give him a fireman’s lift to the taxi!” 

Oh, the shame. “You needn’t bloody chip in over there, Chapman,” he snorted. “I can do a good enough job mortifying myself, by myself, thanks.”  

“Sharing is caring!” she beamed, Nathan muttering as he continued and moved onto the next flower.  

“How you holding up?” 

“Fine, getting used to it,” she confirmed, watching him smile. 

“Trust me, it won’t be your last. You get bitten by the tattoo bug. Seldom anybody who’s ever had them stops at just one.” 

“Which was your most recent? Can I see?” she inquired.  

“Hmm, only if I took my jeans off,” he confessed.  

“You little tease,” she joked, winking. “Where is it? Anywhere naughty?” 

Was she... no. No, no. She wasn’t flirting with him. Why the hell would she? He knew he was reasonably attractive. Hell, he’d gone from zero to sex in five minutes with someone just thirty minutes before, but seriously. Holly Madden, or Jenkins as she now was, flirting with him? No.  

“It’s on my lower hip,” he confirmed, “cover up of the ex’s name.” Thanks to Kelsey, where Lisa’s name had once lay was now covered by an old school style black panther crawling its way up to his hipbone, a definite improvement now his wife no longer had any prominence in his life.  

“Do you do any of your own tattoos?” she asked out of curiosity, Nathan loading more violet onto the needle. 

“Have done in the past. I did my feet, but I’m not that great at tattooing myself. I do most of my own piercings, though. Save a couple.” 

“How many do you have?” 

He thought for a moment, counting. “Twenty-one. Used to be twenty-three, but I took my eyebrow ones out.”  

“And where are they all?”  

“Eight in my left ear, six in my right, one nostril, lip, two in my tongue, both nipples and one in my dick.”  

Immediately, she gasped. “Crapping hell! I bet that bloody hurt!” 

It would be fair to say he’d nearly gone through the roof. “Yep, a solid eight out of ten on the pain scale.” 

“Why on earth would you do something like that? And have two in your tongue? I bet that was painful, too!” she cried, shaking her head in amazement. 

“Same answer for both,” he smirked. “It’s purely a sex thing.” 

“Can I see them?” she asked, suddenly kicking herself as her stomach plummeted, her cheeks colouring. “The tongue ones, I hasten to add!” Oh, the depth of her cringe. Shit.  

He laughed softly, poking his tongue out and giving it a very rapid wiggle, the two black studs tapping against his teeth.  

Her eyes rounded, making an impressed little hum in the back of her throat. “Bloody hell. A man who can move his tongue that rapidly doesn’t really need any further enhancements, if you ask me.” 

“I know, but I like to show off,” he smiled, winking. Oh, oh yes. He could trust it. They’d definitely fallen into a little playful flirting. “What about you?” 

She felt a bit vanilla, compared to him. “Just my ears, one in each lobe and one at the top of my right. I always said I was going to get something else, too, but I never know what.” 

“Well, when you make up your mind, you know where I am,” he smiled, returning his focus to her tattoo.  

She couldn’t help herself. “You do seem particularly apt at sticking needles in people, so yes, I think I’ll trust it to you.” 

And neither could he. “Not just needles.” Again, he winked, Holly smiling a little shyly, definitely enjoying the exchange. Oh, and why the heck not? She was thirty-four-year-old single woman eleven months out of a terrible marriage. Why not flirt with the hottie doing her tattoo for her?  

“You little devil!” she giggled, Kelsey and Chris exchanging knowing looks from their respective stations, watching their friend enjoying the hell out of himself in flirting up a storm with his teen crush. It was quite surprising for them to witness, since earlier that day aside, he wasn’t overly brash with it. He still wasn’t even then, but he definitely had something about him that exuded a bit more charm than usual.  

At close to the hour mark, he gave her a little break, covering the tattoo for her with a piece of taped on kitchen paper so she could pop outside and make a phone call, taking his gloves off and grabbing his large vaping mod, going out to stand on the other side of the front door, blowing out plumes of sweetly scented vapour.  

“What is that?” she inquired, moving to his side once her phone call to her friend Kate was done, confirming that she’d be on time for their dinner plans later that evening. “It smells delicious!” 

“Strawberry bubble gum,” he replied, taking another lungful he blew out in a huge cloud ahead. “Because I’m a massive fanny who needs his nicotine with a nice flavour.” 

“Ahh, are you using it as a quitting smoking aid?” 

He shook his head. “Nah, I’ve never smoked cigarettes. They smell vile and make you stink, but after all the shit with my ex, I needed something to de-stress a bit, so I took up vaping.” He paused. “I’m aware that makes me look like a proper massive twat, but it is what it is.”  

She giggled softly. “No, it doesn’t. When I’m drunk, I buy those disposable vapes sometimes. They’re awful, and I know they’re bad for the planet, too! Drunk Holly cannot be held accountable, though.”  

He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, same as drunk Nathan. He’s a pissing liability,” he chuckled. He paused, looking at her, the way she smiled at him, a sudden uprising of courage kicking him sharply. “Speaking of drinking, you busy later? Me and them two inside are heading to that bar just over the other side of the park tonight, Wolfpack. You fancy meeting up?” 

“Erm...” She quickly worked out times in her head. She and Kate were meeting at six, dinner could likely be an hour and a half, and they had said they’d go on someplace else afterwards. With the borough of Brent, where they currently were only just under twenty minutes via car from her home borough of Hammersmith, it was entirely possible that she could. “Yes, alright then. That’d be great!” 

His stomach all but caved in on itself with excitement. “Cool. I’ll be in there from about seven, ‘kay?” 

“Alright,” she beamed, feeling little darts prickling her tummy. “I’ll be there later; I have dinner plans with my mate first. Mind if I bring her along, too?” 

Blowing out another cloud, he shook his head. “Nah, no worries.” He might’ve appeared cool on the outside, but within, he had fireworks going off in his chest. He felt fifteen again, and as soon as Holly had left the shop half an hour later, it showed.  

“Blud, why you bouncing?” Chris asked, just the three of them all between clients, Nathan tapping the pen in his hand begin the counter as he bounced on his heels. 

“Has she moved away from the shop yet?” 

Kelsey turned to peer through the windows. “She’s just got into a black cab.” As soon as he heard that statement he jumped up and down a few times, punching the air. 

“Fucking got a date with her! She’s meeting us later! A few more air punches followed before he composed himself, taking a deep breath through his nose. “And I’m back to being a calm adult.”  

His friends shared a look, Kelsey thinking how adorable his excitement was. It was nice to see. He’d been bordering on morose at times since his split from Lisa. “Only taken you nineteen years, but you got there in the end, eh Gilly?” 

“Better late than never.” he replied, misting his station with antibacterial spray, his next client due to arrive at any moment. That client was a guy he’d originally met over in Dublin, who he’d reconnected with back in London a while ago. Alex was a gargantuan rugby player in the middle of having a full Japanese themed back piece done by Nathan, the appointment taking up the rest of his afternoon until they shut at 6:30pm.  

They worked long hours at the shop, Closed Sunday and Monday, but open from 10am – 7pm Tuesday to Thursday, and 10am – 9pm on Friday, 9am – 6:30pm on Saturday. With nowhere else to be since the dissolution of his marriage, Nathan had begun booking people in late on other weeknights too, giving himself something to take his mind off the fact that he was separated and truly didn’t really want to be. 

Well, that was only half true.  

He was very glad to be free of Lisa after how things had ended between them, but he’d liked being married. He really wasn’t the type of guy who was into playing the field, hence why his friends had been so alarmed at the speed he’d ended up shagging the girl earlier that day.  

In Nathan’s defence, he’d been horny. Very horny, and maybe just a tiny bit lit from the shot of vodka he’d had that morning upon waking, something to soothe his hungover brain. He made a point of never working under the influence, taking too much pride in his work for that, but one shot wasn’t the end of the world, and it had definitely helped him feel more human again.  

After finishing up the latest section of the huge dragon head upon his client’s back, he went and had a few more tots from the bottle of vodka in his fridge before taking a quick shower and changing, meeting his friends back in the shop before they locked up and headed across the park to Wolfpack. Cue Nathan to spend the next hour trying to play it cool, but failing miserably. Whenever anyone female entered the bar, his eyes snapped over, checking to see if it was Holly. Much tapping and neck scratching ensured. 

“Gilly, you’re going to give yourself carpal tunnel. Stop riffing!” Kelsey advised him, pulling his hand away from within his masses of hair. Immediately, he began drumming his fingers on the table. “Such a jittery boy!” 

He cringed slightly, looking perturbed as anxiety corded through his entire body. “Can’t help it, bruv. She’s too hot for me! I mean really, proper gorgeous, she is. And she’s meeting my scruffy rocker arse. Can’t cope, Kels.”  

He was so adorable. “Oh, no, no, no. There’ll be none of this. You, my friend, are bloody lovely. If I had to shag a guy, like if my life depended on letting a penis near me, I’d choose you. You’re a hottie, so stop sitting there looking like a deer caught in the headlights, and scratching like you’ve got the same amount of ticks as one!” 

“Still wanna hide,” he muttered, laughing at himself. 

Nathan was usually so chilled out, it was very odd for her to see him in any other way. Hell, the man had managed to score with a girl in less than five minutes just hours before, not that she really wanted to dwell on such an out of character occurrence too heavily, though.  

“Why though?” she cried gently, shaking his arm. “You were vibing so well with her earlier, and now look at you! Working yourself into a state.” 

“Yeah, but that was on my turf and now I just... ahh, pissing hell. Where’s Chris with those shots?” Turning his attention towards the bar, he could just about make out the sight of his bald head, thankfully appearing to be somewhat close to getting served. It was a very typically busy night. “It’s because it’s her. I’m telling you, she’s too hot for me.” 

“For the love of the virgin Mary’s bicycle!” she exclaimed, making him snort laugh. It was always ‘for the love of the virgin Mary’s’ something or other with her, and it never failed to crack him up. “Calm down, stop scratching your neck and just breathe! Where’s zen Nath? He needs to come back.” 

The back of his neck continued to receive a good scratching. “He’s otherwise engaged.” Looking towards the doors, he saw two women walk in, his heart hammering. Not her, thankfully. He needed the next round Chris was buying to arrive before Holly did.  

Thinning her lips, she contemplated her next statement for a moment. “This isn’t anything to do with Lisa, is it? She didn’t say anything rotten that’s dented you, did she? Because Jesus Harold Christ, I will knock her through the floor if she did.”  

Trust his favourite butch battleaxe on earth to be so protective. She always had been, and if you didn’t know how sweet and gentle Kelsey was, her sheer size alone cut her from a very intimidating cloth. He’d witnessed her knock out fully grown men in the past.  

He huffed slightly, raising his eyebrows before sinking the rest of his pint. “She said plenty of rotten things, but we don’t speak of her any longer.”  

Truly, Kelsey had hit the nail on the head. It was a little bit of his estranged wife’s nastiness making him nervous, but mostly it was a Holly specific. She was the girl he’d fancied from the ages of eleven to fifteen, and even though he was a grown thirty-four-year-old man, seeing her again had reminded him of being fifteen and way too shy and awkward to make a move on her.  

Luckily, Chris arrived back with a tray of drinks, buying them two pints and two shots each, save going up again with how packed the place was. Nathan’s two shots of Jägermeister had been sunk before he’d even sat down. 

“Blud, easy now!” he exclaimed, Nathan grimacing at the taste, but enjoying the warm feeling of the alcohol spreading through his chest. “You can’t be getting all wreck up before she even gets here, fam!” 

“I can and I will, bruv,” he joked, taking a big gulp of his fresh pint, his eyes once again flitting to the entrance. This time, it wasn’t a false alarm. “Oh, hell upon hell. She’s here.” 

His heart thundered in his chest at seeing her, her eyes scanning the crowd, smiling and waving when she saw him. God, she looked great. She was dressed casually in a figure-hugging black bodysuit with a high neck, her toned arms on show, and a pair of wide legged green trousers with very high heels that boosted her height up more than the flipflops she’d been wearing that afternoon.  

“I’m legit having palpitations.” he muttered, Kelsey wrapping her arms around him and kissing his forehead. By the time she arrived with him, he’d calmed down a little bit, Holly introducing her friend Kate to them all, the women taking a seat. Immediately, Holly began sniffing the air.  

“Oooh, what’s that lovely smell?” Sniffing around some more, she leaned closer to Nathan, identifying him as the source. “You smell delish!” 

“Thanks.” He would say that was the moment he calmed down, but no, because the way she viewed him so appreciatively, Nathan felt anything but. In a good way, though.  

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

The Perfect Send Off

Pairing: Billy Taylor x f!reader Warnings: Mentions of war, slight coercion and corruption kink, loss of (male) virginity, smut. Word count: ~2.1k

Summary: Visiting war torn London, while helping to evacuate her sister and her children back to Cambridge, a young woman finds herself checked in at The Halcyon, and catches the attention of their bell boy, soon to be soldier, Billy. Based on this request.

Author's note: No tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

“Billy, don’t stare!” Peggy chastises her son with a swat to the arm. “Help the lady with her bags.”

Her eyes move appreciatively over the tall form of the sandy haired young man in front of her. He offers her a tight lipped smile, obviously flustered, considering the shade of scarlet he’s turning, before grabbing her suitcases from the marble floor of the hotel foyer. “Sorry, Mum,” he mumbles awkwardly to the dark haired woman beside him.

“It’s Mrs. Taylor in front of the guests, how many times?!” She hisses quietly, before turning back to her with a charming, painted-on-for-the-guests type smile. “Welcome to The Halcyon, madam. Billy is one of our bell boys, and will take your bags to your room for you now that you’re all checked in. My name’s Peggy, I operate the switchboard. Please don’t hesitate to ring down if you need anything. I hope you enjoy your stay.”

She watches Peggy walk away, each click of her high heels growing quieter as she retreats, before turning back to Billy, who stands there expectantly with her bags in his large hands.

Oh, I certainly will enjoy my stay.

She had arrived in London by train from Cambridge that morning, intending to leave again with her sister and her children. Since war had broken out, the frequent airstrikes over London had made it too dangerous for them to remain, so they’d be staying with her until it was safe to come back - provided they had a home to return to.

It would take a few days for her sister to get packed and have the house and children’s schooling in order, so she’d be staying at The Halcyon until they were ready to leave.

She spares a sideways glance at the bellboy as they stand in the lift together, the reddening of his face from having been caught staring at her only just beginning to fade. He’s younger than her by at least a couple of years, but has chiseled features that make him look handsome despite his bashful nature, and he fills out the grey slacks of his uniform more than adequately.

The reason for her trip to London is a serious matter, but she figures there’s no harm in having some fun with it.

“It’s nice that a young lad like you gets to work with their mother,” she says with a sultry smile, as the lift travels upwards.

His eyebrows raise, blue eyes widening slightly as he turns to her in the small space. “Oh, I’m not a lad, I’m a man…I mean, working with me mum, it’s not forever. Expecting me draft papers any day now…miss?”

He looks at her uncertainly and she huffs a quiet laugh as they step out of the lift together. “Yes, miss is fine, I don’t have a husband.”

Billy presses his lips together and averts his eyes, nodding slightly.

“So, you’re signed up to draft,” she says as they reach the door of her room, “how exciting for you. You’ll have to pop by and let me know your posting once you find out, I’d love to know.”

He falters, the suitcases he’d been carrying thumping heavily to the ground as he stoops to deposit them over the threshold of her room. He straightens, clasping his hands in front of him, and looks at her apologetically. “Oh…yeah, course…yeah, I will!”

She holds his gaze for a few moments, enjoying his barely disguised panic, before she speaks again. “I’d give you a tip, but I’m afraid I’m unsure of which bag I’ve put my purse in–”

“Oh, it’s no trouble, honestly, don’t worry,” he insists hurriedly.

“Nonsense, I have to give you something,” she purrs, “will this do?”

She leans up and presses a chaste kiss to his cheek, watching him carefully as she settles back on her feet.

His eyes go wide, the scarlet hue returning to his skin as he battles to hide a grin, tugging at the collar of his uniform. She hears him mutter “bloody hell” beneath his breath, as his eyes dart nervously down the corridor.

She wonders if he’s ever kissed anyone before, based on his reaction to a mere peck on the cheek she supposes he probably hasn’t.

Oh, my stay here is certainly going to be fun.

“Was that to your liking, Billy?” She asks with a smirk.

“Oh…oh yeah…thanks,” he says, swallowing thickly and trying to regain his composure.

Adorable.

“My pleasure. If that’s everything then, I’ll see you later?”

He nods, retreating from the doorway and down the corridor, sparing glances back over his shoulder at her standing there, until he’s back in the lift and out of sight.

It’s nearly two days later when she’s heading back up to her room in the late afternoon, having spent the day with her sister, that Billy rushes towards her, eyes lit up with excitement and a wide grin on his face.

“I got my posting this morning!” He tells her excitedly as she puts her key in her room door.

“Congratulations, soldier,” she says with a wink, “got time to come in and tell me about it, or have you got to get back to work?”

“Just finished me shift, actually, so I’ve got time.” He loosens the strap around his chin of his Halcyon branded cap, removing it as if to signify the fact. His dark blonde hair is slicked back against his head, neatly parted to the side.

“Great, come on in then.”

Billy trails behind her, his hat held gingerly in both hands as he glances around the room.

“Make yourself at home, Billy.” She gestures towards the bed and he perches on the edge of it, while she takes the armchair opposite. She has never seen anyone look less relaxed and has to stifle a laugh at how rigid his posture is.

“So, about your posting–”

“Yeah!” He suddenly becomes animated again, leaning forward and gesticulating each of his words, “Came in the post this mornin’, tried to find ya, but you were out. I’ve been put on the anti aircraft guns! Can you believe it? I’ll be shooting German planes outta the sky!”

She watches him intently as he speaks, the curve of his lips, the brightness of his eyes. He exudes confidence when he’s passionate, not a trace of shyness to be found and it’s incredibly attractive.

“That’s very brave of you,” she says, “I expect your sweetheart will be worried for you though.”

“Oh,” he furrows his brow, his gaze downcast, “no, there’s no one…no sweetheart.”

“That’s a shame,” she drawls, her smugness at the fact barely concealed. “Tell me, Billy, are you a virgin?”

He widens his eyes, mouth opening and closing as he flushes pink from the base of his neck, all the way to the tips of his ears. “N-no…I’ve had it off with loadsa girls…”

“Billy…” she chastises in a stern tone of voice.

He sighs, turning his hat over in his hands, shoulders slumping. “Yeah, I’m a virgin.”

She moves to sit beside him on the bed, her hand caressing his shoulder. “Nothing wrong with that,” she reassures him, “but perhaps you’d like not to be? Can’t send you off to war, never having known the touch of a woman.”

He audibly gulps, staring at her in disbelief, so she takes the initiative, leaning forward and pressing her lips to his.

He freezes at first, she can feel him trembling all over, but he softens as she’s about the pull away and reciprocates, his hat slipping from his hands and landing on the carpet with a soft thud. His mouth moves clumsily against her own, over eager and inexperienced, yet there is something endearing about it. She longs to show Billy the tenderness he deserves.

“I–I don’t know what I’m doing,” he whispers nervously against her lips once they part for air.

“It’s okay,” she soothes him, caressing his cheek, “just lay back. Let me take care of you.”

He nods, moving back against the bedspread.

She takes her time stripping him of his bellboy uniform. Billy is undeniably skinny, but his long, lean limbs are corded with wiry muscle, his chest and shoulders well defined and broad as they’re revealed to her as she sheds his jacket, shirt and vest.

His chest rises and falls rapidly with anxious, shallow breaths, his eyes glued to her as she removes her own clothing. His lips part as she bares herself before him, trembling hands reaching out tentatively to trace over her naked flesh.

Her eyes widen with shock and admiration and she removes his briefs. She had not been expecting Billy to be quite so well endowed; his erection is thick and reaches almost to his navel, the ruddy tip glistening with arousal.

Billy hisses through his teeth, brow furrowing as she takes him in hand to roll a sheath over the length of him. She can tell from the way he twitches against her palm that he won’t last long.

“You okay?” She whispers as she moves to straddle him.

His expression is almost pained, only able to nod as he looks up at her with desperation in his eyes.

She sinks slowly down onto him, her jaw going slack at the stretch, hearing Billy groan beneath her.

“Oh…oh god…” he grits out, as her hips sink fully against his.

Trailing her fingertips over his bare chest, while giving herself a moment to adjust, she soothes him with a soft kiss.

He hums into it, his hips bucking slightly upwards and she pulls back with a grin, rolling her hips against his, delighting in the way his thickness drags against her sensitive walls.

He gasps softly, head thrown back against the pillows, a few strands of hair coming loose from his carefully waxed style.

“You’re beautiful,” he mutters.

His grip on her hips is vicelike as she rocks against him, she feels impossibly full and yet already anticipates this being an unsatisfying ending for her - she can feel him throbbing inside of her, as he pants hard beneath her.

Her backside slaps softly against his thighs once, twice, three times, and all too soon his eyes are screwing shut as he cries out in ecstasy, twitching as he spills into the condom.

She stills, gazing down at him as he opens his eyes, skin flushed as he gasps for air. He looks like a work of art, no shame or fear of making a fool of himself guiding his behaviour, just utterly lost in the moment.

“Sh-shit…sorry…” he whispers, as she climbs off of him. He pulls off the rubber and discards it in the bedside waste paper bin. “That was really quick.”

She smiles, guiding him back to her side and laying back. “It was your first time, that was going to happen. You’ll last longer next time.”

He grins down at her. “Next time?”

“If you want to, that is.”

“Course I do!”

He kisses her with more confidence, his hands snaking a trail down her body, squeezing greedily at her curves. After a few minutes of their languid kisses and caresses, she can feel him stirring to life against her thigh again.

“Could I be on top this time?” He whispers into her ear, settling between her legs, once he’s found another sheath.

She nods, sighing in pleasure as she feels him slip back inside of her. The change in angle and sensation of his weight on top of her heightens the feeling as each of his gentle strokes brushes deep within her.

While it feels good, it’s not quite enough to get her there, and as she feels his thrusts becoming less controlled, she knows she needs to help him to help her.

“Give me your hand,” she says huskily, taking it and guiding it between their bodies. 

She presses his fingers to her pearl, guiding them to stroke her in quick, tight circles. “Just like that,” she tells him.

He’s quick to learn, stroking her in tandem with each snap of his hips. He groans low into the crook of her neck, stilling as he spends himself a second time, but the movement of his fingers never relents. The combination of his ministrations against her bud and him pulsating within her drive her over the edge, and she climaxes with a moan, clenching around Billy, causing his breath to catch in his throat.

He rolls off of her after a moment, throwing his arm behind his head and pulling her to his chest. “Could get used to this,” he murmurs with a lazy smirk.

“Won’t you get the sack?” She asks jokingly.

“Nah, leaving anyway, aren’t I?”

“Right you are,” she smiles, snuggling against him.

“You up for another send off then? I could die, y’know.”

“That’s manipulative, Billy!” She giggles, swatting his chest.

“Is it working though?”

“Yeah, yeah, it is…” she says quietly, feeling his fingertips dig into the soft flesh of her thigh.

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[daydreamgoddess14]

Salvation pt. 3

Full Masterlist

Roy Kent Masterlist

Roy Kent / Reader - general rating for now... set to increase 😏

Meet the woman who stole Roy Kent's watch... We finally get to some Roy x Reader deep conversation and messy history... This one is ALL OF THE ANGST guys! But the reward in part 4.... whooooo boy! The spoils (🔥) are coming lads, fear not!

This also helpfully covers one of the prompts from my 200 Followers Celebration 🎉! From a lovely Anon who requested Roy and "I won't let anything bad happen to you".

~~~~~~~~

You pick Sammy up. It’s an excuse really to see Nia, your mother/sister/best friend stand in of the last few years. Even if she is practically the same age. If Sammy’s the one who gave you a job and some semblance of financial security, Nia’s the one who recognised the dark hole you were in and lowered down the ladder to you. You hadn’t realised how close you could feel with someone in only three years, but she’d become your ‘person’ almost immediately.

“Darling, morning.”

“Hey, how’re you feeling?”

“Like my ribs have become a xylophone.” You grimace at that. The human body is a magnificent and terrifying thing. When she’d shown you in her baby book how her organs shifted to make space for her growing baby, you’d declared auntie duty would be just fine, thanks. There would be no babies moving your organs around. 

“Nice. Brought you breakfast.” You pass her a bag of pastries. “Is he ready yet?”

“Nearly. Must have changed either his tie or his turban about four times trying to find the perfect combination,” you both roll your eyes and laugh at his commitment to the flawless matching pair. You both knew the answer already - 

“Blue floral.” You confirm together with a nod.

“The fabric is just beautiful. I do feel sorry for the poor bugger who has to make a matching tie for every turban though.” You muse, knowing it’s his mother in law who takes up that mantle.

“I know, right? And he complains that I buy too many books? I think not, pal.” She sniggers.

“You show him who’s boss. Cos if you don’t, then a certain someone else will.” You point at her growing belly. 

“Come on, Sam. You’re going to be late!” She shouts up the stairs. “Dinner tonight?” She asks you, she knows you might need company after the day ahead of you. You’ve disclosed a lot more of your past to her than Sam so she’s already up to speed on the last few days. You nod gratefully. “You’ll be fine. You need to talk to him though, apologise properly - explain what was going on back then.”

“I know. I will.” You hug her tightly and pester Sam out of the door.

Rebecca Welton is a gracious host. Warm, welcoming… you knew the lies the tabloids liked to spread so you knew the whole ‘cold, old Rebecca’ name tag was a load of crap.

“So, I think if it suits you both, I’ll have a cup of tea with Sam and we can get caught up while I get Roy to give you a tour and then we can arrange some smaller interviews with key staff and players?” Sam is beside himself,

“Sounds perfect Ms. Welton.”

“Yep, I’d love a tour.” You accept with a tight smile. 

“Wonderful! Here’s Roy now,” he steps through the open door and is clearly not expecting to see you.

“Thought we had reporters coming?” He grunts.

“We do, Sammy’s here from the Gazette. This is his… apprentice?” Rebecca tells him, “Something like that.” Sam laughs. You take a deep breath before holding your hand out,

“Nice to meet you again.”

“Hmm.” His warm hand engulfs yours and shakes it. The feel of his skin against yours is enough to trigger memories through your brain at top speed - his hand in yours, his hands on your face, your legs, in your hair. You snatch your hand away. “Come on, tour.” You follow him down the stairs and through mazes of rooms, “ticket office, finance,” then out into a wide corridor, “hall of fame.” You stop to look at the collection of memorabilia, making your way slowly past each piece and reading the accompanying cards. You stop fully at the couple of shelves dedicated to him, fingertips resting lightly on the glass. He clears his throat and you follow him deeper into the building. “Locker room, physio, boot room.” He pauses at the boot room. More memories come flooding back. “Remember when we -”

“Yeahhh,” you breathed, “I remember every single time.” You turn away to avoid his gaze.

“We were good together?”

“The best.” You reply quietly, a little sadness creeping in. He pushes the door open and holds it for you to follow. You sit shoulder to shoulder on the bench, both looking straight ahead.

“How have you been?” He asks quietly.

“Better recently. You?”

“Well no one has stolen my fucking watch lately.” He bumps you slightly, there’s the barest hint of amusement in his voice that you latch onto.

“They haven’t tried hard enough then,” you reply with a wry smile. He lets out a breathy laugh that he can’t quite disguise as anything else.

“I wish I could be more fucking angry with you than I am.”

“You have every right to be angry with me. I fucked up. I’ve been angry with myself for as long as I can remember.”

“You really fucked up. I just can’t understand why. I’ve spent this whole time trying to understand why. Because we were good together.”

“I know.” You agree, again. You were good together. You’ve been single since the day you walked out on him, haven’t even kissed anyone else in all that time. He’s the one you think of when you’re alone - he’s the only one you need to think of when you can’t sleep and you let your memories guide your hand down your body. These are obviously things you can’t say aloud, illicit memories you shouldn’t lean on but do. You sigh, he’s so expectant beside you, “How are you so… calm?” you wonder aloud. 

“Therapy,” he mutters with a short laugh.

“Shit, really?”

“Yeah, you?”

“No. Not sure if I’m ready for that yet.”

“Much as I hate to admit it, it helps.”

“Do you remember when you were angling for an invite to Christmas at my mums?” You ask, he frowns a little at the sudden change of subject. You feel him nod next to you.

“That’s when it started, that’s when you started to pull away. I never met any of your family.”

“My brother. You never met him, I never wanted you to meet him. He was there… he’s an addict. He has been for a really long time and we’ve tried everything to help him, everything. He told me that he was in some money trouble with some blokes he brought off. I didn’t have much but I gave him everything I had saved. Then he needed more. And more, and more and I just didn’t know where I was going to get it from, or how to help him. I took the watch, changed my phone number and left.” You pause for a minute to take stock of what you’ve said, you can tell he wants to ask questions but he waits patiently instead. “He was a fucking mess. I made him tell me who he owed and went to see them on my own, told them I’d pay them back myself if they never went near him again. Worked about three jobs, moved back in with mum so I wouldn’t have to pay rent as well, and spent the next year and a half paying them back. I worked 18 hour days, 7 days a week. I literally kept back, like, a tenner a week for myself. I kept a record of how much I paid and when. When we were done I told them so and told them to never come near us again.”

“And?”

“They still turn up occasionally to try and get more out of me, they claim it’s interest.”

“And your brother?”

“We sent him to my uncle’s house up in the North West, he’s been there ever since but he’s clean now. Too scared to come home though.” Roy is quiet for the longest time.

“He must have owed…”

“About 130k. Maybe a bit more than that. I was pretty fucking knackered. I was doing early mornings 4-8am at Maccys, then 8.30-5 with Sammy at the paper and then bar shifts til about 10 or 11 pm most nights. Sam saved me, let me get an hour's kip at lunchtime, and brought extra food every day for me to share with him.”

“Fuuuuuck.” He slumps where he’s sat next to you.

“There is something else.” He looks over in disbelief. You reach into your bag, pull out a sleek, matt black box and put it in his hands. 

“Fuck off?” He slides open the box to find his Rolex, in pristine condition - still ticking. “Fuck off.”

“I went to hand it over to them and… I couldn’t. I didn’t want them to have something of yours. I didn’t want to know that I’d done that, sunk that low.” Your voice gets even smaller, “they tried to suggest other methods of payment but…” you feel his shoulders tense, see his fists ball tightly in his lap, “I told them to give me a couple of months and see that I was good for the money, and if I ever missed a payment then we’d have that conversation.” He wants to know if you ever had the conversation, you can feel it in the air between you both,

“You never have to justify yourself to me.” He says firmly.

“I didn’t do it. Never missed a payment. Had to borrow a bit from Sam occasionally when I fell short, but I was never going to have that conversation with them. Never.” The air feels weighty with the tension, like it's risen up from your shoulders where it’s weighed you down for the last three years and is now hovering around you both. You’re amazed you got through it without tears. It’s been so easy to fall into the trap of feeling sorry for yourself over the years and wallow in the self pity of it all. Roy on the other hand is still visibly tense, his knuckles white. You tentatively reach your hand across to cover his, using your fingers to unball his hands.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He sounds worse than he had when he asked the same question a few days ago. His voice is hoarse and tight,

“I couldn’t let them know about you. They’d have ruined you. I had to protect you.”

“I won’t let anything bad happen to you. I would never have let anything happen to you. We could have sorted it together.” You turn to face him, bringing your other hand to his cheek,

“No love, it was never your problem to fix.”

“If all of this was over eighteen months ago -”

“Don’t ask me why I didn’t come back, Roy. It’s never really over, I couldn’t bring this shit to your doorstep and these dickheads just turn up whenever they think they might get a bit of extra cash out of me. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I’m sorry I took your watch and I’m sorry I walked out on us.” You can hear voices in the corridor outside, your times up and now you both have to be the epitome of professionalism while Roy is interviewed. “I’ll get Sam to interview the team and other staff first, give you some time.”

“What about you?”

“I’ve been living with this for three years, I’m tougher than I look. Besides, I’ve got some happy memories of this place,” you admit, looking around the familiar boot room. “I had the best sex of my life in this very room.” He lets out a low laugh, shaking his head. “I would never expect you to forgive me, Roy, but I truly thank you for giving me the chance to explain.” You pat his hand gently and leave a cool space beside him when you slip through the door to meet up with Sam and Rebecca.

~~~~~~

[plasticfangtastic]

American Royalty. Ch. 6

A Homelander x F!Reader and Dadlander fanfic

A/N: sorry for the wait lads, sadly I've had to put my other fic on hiatus (bcuz am overwhelmed irl from work and writing) but bcuz of that I'll be able to post this with more frequency. If you're interested in being in the taglist plz drop a comment with a request! Thanks to everybody who reads this work, you guys are awesome! also my masterlist doesn't have anymore space so I'll be making a list for this series soon, here's the previous chapter:

Tags: mild gore, angst, slow burn, fluff, oc characther, child neglect, dadlander, romance, toxic relationship.

Chapter Six

Loaded weapon.

Heavy puddles splashed all accross the floor under hundreds of steps, people panicked and yelled in fear as water burst in violent streams and the foundation of the wall eager to crumble. The dog had lost its professional cool barking madly as his owner tried to leave fast enough. Water pushing people and bodies crashing against the ground, Homelander was the first to notice the strain on her face as she tried to contain another sneeze, he looked at the mutt.

“GET THAT FUCKING RAT AWAY FROM HERE!!” He screamed, his eyes a bright red as he puffed his chest, the woman panicked picking her dog in a single swoop rushing out, splashing loudy and crying.

Behind him Helena held the flood, her arms held before her, creating a thick translucennt blue lit wall separating the thousands of gallons and the room, her body pushed back but she kept pushing forward, glass, debris and fish floating in front of her, the wall rippling around individual points, her face ready to sneeze, she was hurting, growing hot and red.

“Stop that! I'll get you out of here! Ryan!” He looks around trying to find his son in the diminishing crowd.

“The fishies!! I won’t kill the fishies!!” She cried.

“Fuck!” He cursed deciding between picking her by force and letting the chaos worsen or allowing her to continue– Y/N get Ryan, I’ll evacuate these people… can’t fucking believe I have to call Deep!!” He looked at Helena then back at you as you ran fidgeting with your bag– can… can she?”

You ignored him, splashing past him with a prescription blister.

“Is okay Helena, baby… open your mouth.”

She swallowed dried.

“She can hold it! Now do your hero shit!” You shouted at him.

The police and Vought came down, your schedule had been overridden and made irrelevant but you were glad both kids were okay, you both stayed there until the aquarium’s staff and the Deep had taken care of the fish as Helena refused to let the surviving fishes get injured, Homelander had been left in awe watching her eyes blinked a dozen shades of blue as she built stairs out of her own psionic wall for the rescuers to work with ease, getting an idea of how her powers functioned.

Smaller fishes and debri floated under the stairs, she adjusted the height of the wall to let people in, modifying for every request the teams had, as specialist vacuums pumped the water out, the outside was so loud with news vans, police and fire department doing their work, but she never broke concentration.

He had forced Deep to reassure her that the fishes were okay and weren’t angry at her, and Kevin wasn’t stupid enough to question anything about what was happening, he looked at the little girl and talked to her, turning to his freshwater friends to exchanged messages as the girl was filled with guilt and remorse, trying not to cry as to not lose her concentration.

Homelander felt prideful as he watched her work, until the moon was out and she could finally rest.

She passed out the moment the wall came down, after most of the water had been drained, she dropped instantly– Homelander caught her, his sight softening as he lifted her closely.

Ryan watched him with confusion as he carried this stranger in one arm so carefully, tucking her head into the crook of his neck, letting his chin drop against her head, to catch a whiff of her coconut shampoo.

“Is she alright?” Ryan asked, pushing her draping arm towards her stomach.

“I don’t know.” He looked at you, not wanting to hand her back– care to explain.”

“She must’ve turned off her radar… Helena is severely allergic to dogs. She can sneeze no problem” You lifted her sleeves not caring about how close you were to Homelander, her arm was covered in old darkened spots, from years of scratching, fresh hives and red streaks had settled even with the medication– but she can’t be around dogs… thank god she didn’t have an asthma attack.”

You stroke her hair checking for hives, around her neck.

“That’s why I couldn’t stay at friends for long…” You took her from him, he tried not to protest as you tore him apart– her babysitter had a mini poodle… and that was fine even if it gave her hives from time to time… she was getting better… it's my fault I didn’t check if she took her meds today.”

Homelander absorbed the information.

Some fish died and hundreds of thousands of dollars in damages had been incurred but Vought would covered it all, his only nuisance was Ashley that had come down to the scene, she tucked her chin down as she approached him wearily, she had never expected to get such a call from Homelander earlier in the day, making her panic that this had been serious and maybe news worthy.

Seeing him in human clothes was a first, he didn’t look any more approachable than before, Homelander looked at her with annoyance demanding her to ‘spit it out already’ without words.

“Everything is under control as you asked! The aquarium holds no ill-will, and Deep has reassured me… multiple times.” She signed– minimal fish lives were lost and all the fish are not holding any grudges. There’s just one probl—

“What!!?” he yelled.

“The kid!” she jumped trying to hide behind thin air– We… for insurance purposes we need her information.”

Ashley gave you and Homelander a second look, looking at his display of stealth wealth, at Ryan and the ketchup stain on his collar, at your tired look, how severely underdressed compared to him yet still trying to look stylish in your turtleneck, skinny jeans and indoor sneakers then finally at the little girl whom he had made such strange demands for, that her mouth made an ‘O’ shape. 

This was a date.

A date she was interrupting.

“You know what, sir. I’ll handle it all… you can just go and escort these civilians, we can talk about the details tomorrow when everything has calmed down.” She said knowing that a migraine was incoming– is that okay?”

She looked at you instead, trying to decipher who you were.

“I work for Homelander. Am one of his personal cooks… all my contact information– you blurted.

You looked down holding Helena tightly.

“Is okay darling! Just swing by when you come back from work and we can do all the ugly paperwork then. Is that okay?” If she squinted any harder she might go blind as she interrupted you, she smiled stroking your shoulder– just make sure this little bundle is feeling better in the morning. You know where my office is?” 

“Yes, Ms. Barrett… I don’t have to go to HR? or CM?” Your cheeks reddened, yet feeling somewhat relieved.

She gives Homelander a nervous look then back at you with plastic confidence.

“Is fine! We deal with so many little kids… lots of parents have gone thru the same thing.”

“I broke Ashley’s door the other week,” said Ryan nervously.

She nodded with half closed eyes, already stroking the kid’s hair to reassure him it was fine.

“Go get some rest, will you– am just gonna go over there and see what the Deep’s doing”

She could really speed up in those heels, not wanting to persue this any further just glad everything seemed fine.

You expected to part from him at this point, but he escorted you back to your car. His excuse was to keep the reporter or police from harassing you. The long walk was filled with awkward silence, interrupted by Ryan here and there who realized that he could never quite get that dog, if Helena was around.

The kid wasn’t stupid, he had catched his father kissing you earlier, nervous to ask the little girl if she knew what was taking place behind them, and even if he hadn’t he could see in the way he looked at you– that there was something different about you, and in the way he clung to her that made a knot in his throat grow bigger.

Ashley stared at her computer screen as other members of Crisis Management delivered the news, Analytics had removed the videos but they were still circulating, Homelander couldn’t catch a break as he sat in Ashley’s couch looking at the scene, some chump had been recording his trip when it all took place, the accidental power release and Homelander’s violent outburst. It was all too fresh since the sham trial, even if he had left the courtroom with clean hands, there were people waiting for bones to tear him apart, especially when nobody understood why he had lost his cool and nearly lasered down an emotional support dog.

“She’s severely allergic… takes arbinoxa and clarinex for it, even gets asthma on the worse times.” He rested his eyes under his glove, he had skipped sleep and gotten her medical files instead– she couldn’t control her powers– fuck I might need to get her immunotheraphy…” He mumbled.

Homelander had spent the night researching how to help her, reading countless websites and pestering the lab rats downstairs for information. He could in theory provide Helena with help but her skin proved problematic.

“Y’all get the fuck out I need to speak to this idiot!” He hit his arm rest.

The team left without question, Ashley crying after them internally as she foound herself in the same room with a predator.

“Everything okay? The videos we can–

“Tell the media that it was a fucking allergic reaction, keep her ‘anonymous’ understand!! I don’t want anybody knowing who the fuck she is” He snapped– It was an accident!”

He stood up heading straight for her shiny new desk.

“... Helena L/N is my daughter. You know our little issue downstairs in the writer’s room?” She nodded absentmindedly trying to process his revelation– I want her mother to pretend to be Ryan’s… they are both siblings so it's an easy sell.”

“She looks nothing like you.” Ashley’s voice was so low it was barely a peep.

“She’s mine… I triple checked… we can just say genetics are weird– god I already had this conversation! I just need to smooth some things here and there, but she cannot get in trouble! Not my daughter!-- and if the people wanna guess why I reacted like that… well tell them that that fucking mutt being there could’ve hurt people! There were tanks all around us...” Homelander sat across from her, his whole body exhausted a rare sight admittedly, somethign that intrigued Ashley– give that to the team but keep it on a waterproof seal, capiche?”

Ashley bit her lips nervously as she began to process his revelations, this was the odd 2nd penny she received from Homelander, already wondering if this promiscuous bastard had more children spread around, she made a mental note to double check any surviving laids to make sure Vought wouldn’t be hit with an embarrassing child support suit out of the blue. 

“And the mom…?” She looked at her notes– Y/N is she going to be a problem?”

“Look at you all serious.” Her sober expression gained some color, she might now sit higher on the ladder but he was still top dog, maybe it was the brand new plaque on her door or the view on 82 giving her attitude but she was no Edgar or Stillwell– careful with that tone.”

Ryan was a sweet boy, she had grown fond of him, the boy was as if all of his father’s humanity had been spat out and condensed into one innocent child, she had grown to like being called ‘miss Ashley’ and ‘auntie’– she was also aware that the kid had kept her alive on the occasion without noticing… so all those good things came with a price and that was that Homelander now had nothing left to give to mortals like her. She stiffen her back as her skin grew blotchy.

“I’ll have a team do a background check just to be cautious… I’m sure she’ll be a team player.” She forces a confident expression– she looks perfect for the role.”

He got up with a grin.

You headed downstairs to pick up your kid, as Ashley had promised nothing big had come out of it, you were given a business card and a registration application package-- you had missed a lot of paperwork by skirting on the edge of their radars, it seems. You walked mindlessly, your back aching and your feet sore, you couldn’t wait to get takeout and have some mocktails with your kid, when you were spotted.

A man you had never seen before pulled your shoulder gently, he had the nicest shoes you ever seen, you looked at his clothes and it was all sharp and smart casual and probably expensive.

“Hi. You must be Helena’s mom, right?” he asked far too casually to not feel threatening– I'm Nigel, Elmo’s dad.”

You turned pale.

“Nice to meet you… I’m Y/N… our kids are friends!" Your voice slightly shaky-- Sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier!” You stretched your hand, forcing the best customer service voice you could muster– how may I help you?”

“Well… my little prince is finally showing interest in being a supe and he drew this yesterday” He took a folded drawing from his jacket– It seems our kids are making big plans together. I work in hero management so if this is something you’re interested in, give me a call.”

He wasn’t actually pleased, he sounded as if Helena had thwarted some grand vision– at least this wasn’t about your kids' numerous crimes together, with yours as the mastermind.

You took the page seeing a crude drawing of a little asian boy and what you assumed was Helena, their names drawn in crayon “Phantasma and Poltergeist” wearing matching black, white and red suits, your daughter in a mostly black-red suit with red gloves and boots and him in the white-red suit with black gloves and boots. It was crude but you could see the vision.

“We had some names but… it's catchy” He said mildly annoyed– your daughter is very cute, they could make a great tag-team, there is actually not that much competition at the moment.”

“I’ll talk to her and see what she wants but I can take your business card… I actually don’t have a caseworker for Helena, we weren’t really going to pursue this but she seems to be warming up to the idea.”

“Your husband wasn’t down for it?”  He seemed to want to coax information out of you.

“I am single… it's complicated.” He cringed but joined you as you walked towards the daycare entrance– Is it expensive to make a suit?”

He spoke to you of the basics, of the initial investment costs, and the importance of design and branding, he was over the moon that Elmo understood color theory. He told you about how he and his husband Sven adopted Elmo from Korea when he was five months old and you told him how you been a single mom since the start. You both shared bite-sized throwaway stories of dealing with kids with powers and all the broken stuff one had to clean up over the years.

The usually manic carer looked at you with horror as she spoke with two security officers with tears in her eyes, as you opened the doors.

“What did she do now?” You said already drained, already preparing yourself for asking Homelander to help you keep her in OSCH.

“Are you Mr. Cripple and Ms. L/N?” Asked the security officer– "you need to come with us.”

You both panicked but the people gave you no answers, as you were forcible escourted to an area that only Nigel seemed to be familiar with, the thick cement walls of the lower floors made you more than uneasy, even the air tasted stale, both of your kids had been locked in 42D, had those guns not been loaded you would’ve made a scene.

A man neither of you had met before, awaited you in a separate room– A prison cell with a unwelcoming little set-up.

The man looked up from his files offering you both to sit, obeying purely out of fear without protest or sound.

“Ms. L/N how much do you think a vial of compound V cost?” he asked with a menacing tone.

You looked at Nigel who had no reply.

“Did my daughter do something…?” 

“She did something indeed” The man in his serious black clothes who was probably one of the heads of security played you both normal and thermal camera CCTV footage, they didn’t look to be in the room at first until the filter was on, she kept to the corner and only moved to touch stuff after making them invisible.

You could see Helena scribbling on a notepad while fidgeting with the hi-tech equipment in the meantime Elmo sat keeping eye out or just bored out of his mind, exploiting his powers to go in and out at random hours during her care times, the footage compilations of at least one week’s worth of this nonsense.  

The scene culminating with her taking a whole dozen bottles.

“You think my daughter is selling V in the playground!?” You shouted.

“My son has nothing to do with that miscreant!”

“I will have to agree. I doubt he knows what’s happening” You squeezed your fist– I understand she’s done something wrong, but did you just put my seven year old and her friend in jail!?”

“Your daughter is a super. We are just taking the necessary precautions.” He defended his actions.

“My daughter could break out of that cell and she choses not to… you are overreacting!” Your nails dig into your skin, your legs jittery.

“I would argue that makes her more dangerous…” The man looked serious– We are waiting for some people from legal–

The door was ripped apart from its hinges, scrunched and folded, as he tried to speak.

You jumped under the table.

Homelander stood in the wreckage, concrete dust covering his hair and like thunder in a storm his eyes glowed violently like lighting, he lifted his hand and demanded the man’s attention with a wag of his finger, the man stumbled out of his seat as you and Nigel cowered inside.

There was no screaming, just an unbearable silence and faraway steps approaching-- then the sound of a skipping pebble echoing across the hall.

“Congratulations on the promotion, wank stain” Homelander spoke to one of the men that had come– you better pray that my Helena doesn’t have a single scratch.” He growled quite literally growled.

You emerged from beneath, taking meek weary steps towards the exit.

You were on the other side of those eyes, your chest palpitating, your skin tight, it felt as if you could be suffocating on clean air.

As you saw the rage in his face, a part of you that had been left abandoned clench, to see him irate on your behalf, for him to have hurt somebody for your child, it made you blush.

Just how fucked up were you? You shouldn’t find him handsome as he licked a callous splatter of blood off his lip.

But there he was looking at you with those piercing eyes, that you remembered he never was anything but a beautiful and untouchable beast you once tamed.

taglist-- @immyowndefender @fromforeigntofamiliarity @demodemo909

[football-and-fanfics]

Roommates - Trent Alexander-Arnold & Andy Robertson

Who: Trent Alexander-Arnold, Andy Robertson Prompt: Roommates during a match abroad / trip with the team. Warnings: none

It had been an exhausting Europa League match for the team, but Liverpool had ultimately managed to secure a win. Trent had given it his all and he was tired, but the good result left him very satisfied. They wouldn't be flying back to England until the next morning, so all Trent wanted right now was a good night's sleep.

"I'm knackered," Trent mumbled as he set foot into the hotel room he shared with Andy. "You and me both." Andy sighed tiredly. "I feel like I can sleep into next week."

Having shared rooms often during trips with the team, Trent and Andy had a set routine amongst the both of them. In the evenings, Trent usually was the first to go into the bathroom to brush his teeth and get ready for the night. This time was no different. "I'll be quick," Trent said softly, knowing Andy would like to be ready for bed sooner rather than later, too. Andy nodded. "I wouldn't mind that."

Trent kept his words, and not ten minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom. Teeth brushed and already changed into his nightwear, he was fully read to go to sleep. "Your turn," Trent mumbled to Andy, as he dropped himself backwards onto his bed.

Andy chuckled at the sight of Trent lying on his back, looking completely spent. "What?" Trent caught sight of it. "I bet ten pounds that you're asleep once I come out of that bathroom," Andy smirked. "Nah," Trent grinned, "I'm tired, but I don't fall asleep that fast." Andy slowly shook his head, chuckling as he disappeared into the bathroom. "We'll see."

---

Some fifteen minutes later, Andy quietly opened the bathroom door and peeked around the doorframe into their hotel room. He hadn't heard Trent move at all for at least the last five minutes, and he had a suspicion as to why that was.

Andy hadn't even fully opened the bathroom door, or he heard snores. He walked around the corner into the room. There lay Trent, spread-eagled, on his back on his bed, snoring loudly. "Sure, you don't fall asleep that fast," Andy chuckled to himself, capturing a few seconds of the sight in front of him with his phone.

"Trentski." Andy finally tapped Trent's leg. "Hmm, what?" Trent startled awake. He pushed himself up on his elbows and looked sleepily up at Andy. "You're snoring," Andy answered, "I'd like to sleep, too, so roll onto your side." "Oh... sorry." Trent rolled himself onto his side, pulling the blankets up higher, and almost immediately fell back asleep. This time without snoring.

"By the way, you owe me ten bucks." Andy smirked as he lay down in his own bed. Trent cracked open one eye. "Whatever... tomorrow." He was back asleep even before the words had fully left his mouth. Andy chuckled. "Sleep tight, lad."

Tags: @stonesyyyy, @footballffbarbiex, @laurasstufff1, @nightlockcornucopia, @hbstre

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