#and he wears his bandana at home

[achillean-heartbeat]

good afternoon beautiful people i am going sick in the head thinking of Neil wearing his orange bandana. just neil and his bandana,,, yeah,,,

[sinisteryuri]

ok. tragically separated wwi era vampire twins.

[bi-writes]

mmmm i have thoughts about being threatened because you're simon riley's girl and them realizing that you're not the lady in distress they thought you would be (18+)

it is late when you get to your car. your shoulders sag from a long night at work, and you can't wait to curl up on the couch with something warm to eat and something strong to drink to lull you into a peaceful sleep tonight.

you're alone. he should be home any day now, but you aren't fortunate enough to know when that is. that is how this works, and you accepted that a long time ago. if anything, it made you appreciate the times when he is close, when he is at home. it makes your connection special, and you are comforted by the fact that your bond is more than physical.

your eyes droop, and you don't pay attention to the vehicle three cars behind you that's been tailing you since you left. you press the brake and toe the accelerator on autopilot and memory alone, and you zone out as you cross familiar streets. you think you saw a new movie to watch last night, and you think about how nice it'll be to play it as you cook dinner.

you park in your usual spot, getting out and shutting the door behind you. you open the backseat, grabbing your bag and closing the door. in the reflection of the mirror, you see someone behind you, just standing there.

you react first. you toss your head back and smack him with the back of your skull, and you're satisfied when you hear the telltale crunch of a nose breaking. when you spin around to face him, he's shouting, cradling his nose, but he flicks a blade out quickly, pressing you up against your car and putting the sharp edge to your neck.

"fuck!" he cries. "fuck! what did you fucking do?!"

you raise a brow, "you sneak up on a lady like that, and you wanna start complaining?"

"shut the fuck up," he snapped. you don't flinch, even as he digs the blade a little more into your neck. you tighten your jaw at the feeling of the edge pricking you a little. you narrow your eyes, tilting your head to the side.

"this isn't random...is it?" you ask. he stands tall, taller than you at least. he's a scrawny thing, but he's still bigger than you, and he has a weapon. his pupils are a little dilated, telling you he have taken something for the edge, and he fidgets. he's wearing a black bandana to cover the lower half of his face, but you can see the peek of brunette curls and the wild green of his eyes. you memorize the eyes, the accent--ukranian, georgian, russian? you try to place it as he speaks again.

"mm..." he shakes his head, "you're smart girl, i'll give you that."

you click your tongue, "then i don't have to tell you what a bad idea this is, do i?"

"it's because of that, that's why i'm doing this--" he comes closer, and his breath stinks, even through the mask. "they fucked with me, so i'll fuck with them. starting with their whores."

you tilt your head to the side, "oh...you really..." you smile a little, and it is off-putting. he frowns a bit momentarily. the smile you wear startles him. "you really don't get it."

"no, this is--"

"they won't just come for you," you whisper. "they're going to come for your family. mom. dad. sisters. brothers. cousins, friends--" you grit your teeth, "anyone that even so much as opens a fucking door for you or shines your goddamn shoes is going to lose a limb, are you ready for that?" you snarl a bit. "and when they find you, which they will, believe me--" you laugh, "it will be slow. it will be painful. you think you're the first?"

"fucking--"

"you aren't," you snap. "you're not the first, and you won't be the last." you glare at him, meeting his crazed eyes, and you take a deep, shaking breath. "so i want you to think again about what you're doing. i want you think about what it is you're going to do. because for every scratch they find on me...they are going to give it back to you." you blink, "so think. i'll wait."

you lean back against your car, your posture relaxed, your feet steady. it unnerves him, how calm you are. how you don't flinch, how nothing scares you, not even with his blade right against your soft skin. it doesn't phase you, and it's terrifying.

"they stole from me," he says finally. "eye for an eye. you'll just have to accept that."

you sigh, pouting a little.

"god, i...i really wish...i really wish you hadn't said that."

you bang on your car with one hand, drawing his attention away from you for just a moment. with your other, you slip your keys into your fist and you swing. you block his knife-wielding arm, sinking the pointed end of the key into his face, and you go for the vulnerable spots. back to his bleeding, broken nose, against his mouth, and the finishing blow, right into his eye.

he screams, the knife clattering to the floor, and he drops to his knees, cradling his bloody face. his hands shake, and you put your foot to his chest and kick, knocking him onto his back on the pavement.

you pick up the blade, holding it steady before you step on his neck, making him wheeze. he thrashes, preoccupied with wondering if he'll go blind in one eye.

"i told you," you spit. "you're not the first."

for a moment, your resolve breaks. your lip trembles, and you squeeze the handle of the blade tight for stability. this is the price you pay for loving someone. this is what you must do to keep a ghost, and although you feel strong and resilient and capable, you feel fear, too.

"he'll have to be the last, then."

your head snaps to the side when you hear it. he stands on the sidewalk, duffel bag at his feet. he's still wearing his gear--and fuck, he looks so big when he wears it. he looks so broad, the boots make him just that much taller, and it seems as if he hasn't had time to unload the artillery he normally wears. there's a gun holstered to his thigh and magazines stuffed into their pockets in his vest. he still wears his mask, eye-black smeared messily across his pale face.

it means he came here immediately--it means he didn't have time to undress. it means he wanted to come home, and come home fast.

you breathe easier when you see him there. when you step aside and the man beneath you gets a look at him with his good eye, he starts to cry. he sputters, starts to beg, but it falls on deaf ears.

the gravel on the pavement crunches under his boots as he comes near. like a magnet, a gloved hand comes up and grips you firmly on the back of the neck, and you lean up on your toes, tilting your head back just enough to kiss him through the mask.

it's soft, sweet, a little hungry after the time apart. you pull away slowly, smiling up at him. he narrows his eyes, angry, but it isn't at you.

"missed you," you whisper, and he grips your jaw with one big hand, tilting your head to the side. he grunts when he sees the thin line left behind from the blade, tiny droplets of blood beginning to peek out from it. "missed you so much--"

you gasp when his hand falls and gropes you. cupping one side of your ass, squeezing the fat of it in his paw and drawing you near. he pressed the front of you against him, despite the layers that separate you, and he hisses.

"are you olright?"

you nod. "just fine. he's new at this, i think."

you hum as he squeezes your ass again, patting it gently before nodding back towards home.

"get inside," he leans down and presses his covered mouth to yours again, and you can feel the rumble of his growl deep in his chest. "gonna rid y'of the rubbish, sweetheart."

[steddielations]

I love the idea of rockstar Eddie having a stage persona so it’s easier for him and Steve to have a private life. Not a total alias but a stage name and Eddie wears big dark sunglasses and a bandana over his hair every time he performs or does press so he’s not easy to spot without it.

This leads to pictures going around twitter sometimes where Eddie’s dressed normally while out with Steve and it’s like “I saw some old guy and his husband at home depot having a sword fight with some wooden planks. cute couple.”

There’s always a comment that goes viral saying something like “by some old guy do you mean Eddie freaking Munson”

[doumadono]

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST

💥Late one night, while heading home, you realized someone was tailing you. Your pace quickened, and eventually, you broke into a run, with your pursuer doing the same.

💥Running in fear, you accidentally crashed into a solid chest. Gazing upward, you recognized the face of the pro hero Bakugo Katsuki, also known as Dynamight.

💥He noticed your scared expression and asked, "What's wrong?"

💥You shared what happened, and he handled it.

💥"Come on, doll, I'll walk you home," he said after handling the person following you.

💥You and boxer!Bakugo have been dating for a while ever since. Despite being quite different, things just clicked between you two.

💥He used his limited free time to train and get stronger, while you worked as a sidekick in a pro hero's agency.

💥He was well-known in town, and folks often wondered how a timid girl like you ended up with someone as tough and dangerous as Bakugo.

💥He was the best part of your life - your tough, strong, beefy boyfriend, and your cuddle buddy at the same time.

💥You weren't exactly a fan of his boxing hobby, but you still supported him.

💥After each fight, he'd return home victorious, winning every time. But, along with the victories, he'd also bring back cuts, bruises, and a heap of pent-up frustration.

💥Seeing him so broken broke your heart; the pain weighed heavier on you than on him. You'd carefully treat his wounds, bruises, and cuts, gently asking about his fights and questioning if he's certain about pursuing his side career while also juggling daily hero duties.

💥"I'm good, doll. No need to fret," he'd reassure you as you cared for his injuries. "I enjoy boxing. It's quite calming." Honestly, for a strong guy like him, the cuts and bruises weren't that painful. Still, he allowed you to care for his injuries because it warmed him to know his girl cared so much.

💥Boxer!Bakugo enjoys hitting the boxing gym regularly for training; it keeps him toned and in impeccable shape, ready to effortlessly pursue villains.

💥One day, you decide to visit the boxing gym Bakugo frequents five times a week. After finishing your shift, you enter the gym. A friendly lady at the reception offers help, but you decline, explaining that you're just here to see your boyfriend.

💥You see him right away; there's no mistaking him. He's wearing a snug, black tank top highlighting his muscular torso and six-pack, paired with dark grey sweatpants. Black boxing gloves adorn his hands, and a black bandana secures his hair, keeping it away from his intense crimson eyes.

💥You perk up hearing Katsuki's grunts as he throws punches and kicks at the heavy bag. Watching your boyfriend train gets you all excited. A quiet sigh escapes you as you notice sweat trickling down his forehead and nose, dripping to his neckline, and running under his black tank top. You bite your lower lip - he looks oh so fuckable.

💥Spotting you, he grabs a towel, mops his sweaty face, and strides to the edge of the boxing ring. "Hey, doll, what brings you here?"

💥You confess that you wanted to watch him train to get a better grasp of his world. Surprisingly, you admit you never realized how deeply he was immersed in the whole boxing thing.

💥He chuckles, "Yep, been telling you, doll. Okay, I guess that's all for today. Come, I need to change."

💥You follow Bakugo into a locker room after he assures you it's fine and no one will mind. The desires become too intense, and he pushes you against the door, shutting it firmly.

💥Protest? Not a chance. You just let out a little yelp as he catches you off guard.

💥His lips meet yours forcefully, his hands gripping your waist. You reach to remove his bandana and run your fingers through his hair.

💥Simply sharing these heated kisses with you ignites a fervor in boxer!Bakugo; he feels hornier than a teenager.

💥As he removes your snug uniform pants from your legs and casually kicks them away, his calloused finger slips in you, slowly stretching you out. You unfasten the top part of your uniform, slip it off your shoulders, then pull your arms back to peel your tight sports bra off, freeing your breasts; they bounce after being released.

💥Bakugo places wet kisses all around your exposed chest, his tongue poking out and flicking over your hardened buds as he slips another digit in you, stretching you out.

💥At that moment, you're already a moaning mess, and all of your shyness flew out of the window.

💥Bakugo emits a low growl as he senses the dampness seeping into his training sweatpants as he slips a third finger into your tight, wet hole, fucking you relentless, using his thumb to massage your clitoris. Boxer!Bakugo feels himself getting painfully hard as his cock twitches within his pants.

💥He withdraws his fingers, and there's an extra string of your wetness covering his thick digits. "Mmmm, look at ya, doll," he cooes, "already soaked, just for me."

💥Bakugo pulls down his sweatpants and boxers at one go, allowing them to pool around his ankles.

💥You yank his tight tank top off, revealing a muscular torso covered in sweat.

💥Bakugo uses the slick leftover on his hand from fingering you to lube up his rock-hard cock.

💥Gazing downward at the red tip leaking pre cum, a moan escapes your lips as you endeavor to press against his pelvis with a subtle grind as if to slide his cock in yourself already.

💥Boxer!Bakugo leans in, finally gliding the engorged tip of his dick along your dripping hole, which is clenching around nothing now.

💥He finally enters you, stretching you deliciously, and you clench around him blissfully, making him groan.

💥He promptly thrusts into you with a vigorous rhythm, yearning for the melody of your sweet moans, the snug embrace of your thighs, and the gentle contractions of your velvety walls enclosing his hard cock. Lifting you effortlessly, you instinctively coil your legs around his hips, securing your ankles behind him as your thighs press against his sides.

💥While he's fucking you, he begins uttering the most lewd words into your ear. "Yea, you like that, don't ya, doll?”; "Yea, baby, squeeze me tighter, give it to me, give it all to me!”; “Fuck, it feels so fucking good, doll.”

💥As you start moaning like a whore, Bakugo skillfully places his fingers into your mouth, a move aimed at tempering the volume of your pleasure-filled noises as you continue to moan around them.

💥You're uttering incoherent words and moans around his fingers — part desperate pleas, part unintelligible expressions —as he relentlessly fucks your tiny cunt.

💥As your cunny clench tighter around his throbbing cock, he withdraws his fingers from your mouth and descends them to firmly stimulate your clit.

💥“Yes! Please, Katsy! Right there, right there!" you moan like a cheap whore, trying to roll your hips for more friction.

💥You're trembling and convulsing as he feels you cream all over his throbbing cock. Bakugo emits a loud moan at the sensation and can't resist following suit, filling your swollen, abused pussy to the brim with his warm, thick cum. Yet, he doesn't cease there; oh, not at all.

💥With his cock still inside you, and with the mix of your cums dripping out of your pussy and down your thighs, Bakugo initiates a more rapid and vigorous rubbing against your swollen clit than in the previous instance.

💥"Come on, darling, one more for me. I know you've got it in you. Just one more. I've been fucking missing for you all day, doll."

💥Your mouth hangs agape as pleasure consumes you, drool trickling from the corner of your parted lips. "K-Kats!"

💥Katsuki spits on his hand and moves it down where you both are still conjoined, intensifying your arousal; the slick is dripping from you onto the floor as he continues to rub your wet, glistening folds.

💥You release a slight cry as you gush and squirt on his cock, spraying and covering his abdomen with the wetness; some of your juices is trickling onto the floor.

💥"Yes, doll, I knew you had it in you. Show me more, unleash everything you've got," he chuckled with a dark undertone.

💥He swiftly becomes hard once more, and thrusts in you at an unrelenting pace; occasional droplets of slick juices are squirting out of you and landing on his toned abs.

💥Boxer!Bakugo is chasing his second orgasm, basically using you as his own fucktoy; his hold is firm around your waist, and he effortlessly brings you up and down on his throbbing dick, his hips pistoning into yours.

💥At this stage, your juices are beyond control - every thrust Bakugo gives is met by a gush of your wetness, creating a pool on the floor. "Kats! Kats! O-Oh! OH! Fuuuck!"

💥Bakugo halts abruptly, executing a series of preliminary thrusts before you feel his warm cum shoot into your abused pussy once more.

💥You cry out, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks, as Bakugo gently lowers your feet to the ground.

💥After he pulls his flaccid dick out of you, the blend of your cums trickles down your trembling thighs.

💥"You did so well f'me, doll," he whispered before kissing you again. "Well, looks like we both could use a shower. Fuck, you've worn me out more than a hardcore training session, doll."

[gegnabean]

I’m a huge fan of the nailmaster brothers but it’s always bothered me that Oro and Mato had identical designs, so I made a tweaked re-design for funnzies.

Oro:

Darker color palette, reflecting his over all dark mood (Mr moody)

A longer, more torn bandana, bc I think it would be cool to imagine it flowing in the wind

His sashes are made out of the same gems that nobles in the city of tears wear. Between Oro’s more opulent home and his charging for lessons, he strikes me the type who would like the finer things.

A scar in his shell over his eye. I like to imagine it was from a childhood training incident. It gives him a meaner look but he hates it bc he feels it makes him look weak.

A more wild coat fur, to give him a more sharp silhouette.

Harsher lines under his eyes (holes)

Mato:

A more light, saturated palette. To reflect his zealous and inviting personality.

I leaned into a red color for him, because red is sort of a heroic color.

A little bow on tied on his bandana, so cute

A less sharp point to his horns.

A fluffed coat fur, to give him a softer silhouette (also bc it’s fun for me to draw)

No lines under his eyes

Cloth tied around his nail hilt, to give it a different look then Oro’s, and for the cool visual of it blowing in the wind.

I had a lot of fun trying to emulate the hollow knight art style. Let me know what you guys think about my designs (what you would change, keep, etc)

[pucksandpower]

Grid Kids: y/n pregnency!!

Grid Kids: Bun in the Oven

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: moments with the grid kids during your pregnancy

Series Masterlist

Kicking Up a Storm

“Did the little one just ...” Charles’ eyes widen as he pulls back his hand abruptly from where it had been resting on your stomach.

Lando, lounging on the other side of the room with a video game controller in hand, smirks, “Did what? Tried to escape? Can’t blame it, considering the rest of its siblings."

You swat playfully at Lando as Max and George, engrossed in assembling a nursery chair, look up in anticipation. “Come on, let us feel!” Max pleads, abandoning the chair pieces on the floor.

As everyone gathers around, taking turns to gently place their hands on your baby bump, you feel a flutter, a gentle kick responding to their touch. The room fills with gasps of wonder and joy.

“Feels like a future driver if you ask me,” George grins, looking at Sebastian, who chuckles, already imagining another Vettel on the tracks.

Lance, feeling a tad left out, decides to jump in. “Can it hear us? Hello in there, it’s your brother Lance! Remember to pick me as the fun brother, okay?”

Mick, who has been reading every pregnancy book he could get his hands on, chimes in, “You do realize the baby can’t differentiate voices yet, right?”

Lance waves him off, “Details, details.”

Cravings Are No Joke

“Pickles and chocolate? Seriously?” Max raises an eyebrow, holding up the two seemingly mismatched items as he stands in the middle of a grocery store aisle.

Lance, pushing the cart, shrugs. “Don’t question the cravings, just go with it.”

Charles, scrolling through the list on his phone, adds, “Oh and don’t forget the spicy ramen, blueberry pie, and ... pineapple pizza?”

George groans, “Pineapple pizza? Come on! Anything but that. I’m not even Italian and I’m still offended.”

Lando, with an impish grin, quips, “Remember when she wanted the mango gelato at 3 am? That was a fun drive.”

Mick chuckles, “Or the time we went to five different bakeries just to find that particular lemon cake she couldn’t live without.”

Lance pauses, looking thoughtful, “And wasn’t there a phase where she only wanted foods that were purple?”

George nods, “Yep, aubergines, purple potatoes, grapes ... I still can’t look at a plum without laughing.”

As the grid kids continue shopping, picking out items based on the rather diverse list you gave them, they share more anecdotes of the past months. The store’s other patrons watch in amusement as the young men navigate the aisles, often debating the merits of various brands or flavors, all to ensure they get it just right for you.

Later, back home, your grid kids proudly present their haul. You and Sebastian look on with affection as they lay out the eclectic mix of food.

“Did you guys get everything?” You ask, trying to hide your laughter.

Max feigns offense at being questioned, “Of course, we’re professionals.”

Sebastian leans in to whisper in your ear, “I’m just glad they didn’t try cooking this time. Remember the schnitzel incident?”

You giggle, recalling the disastrous attempt. “Of course I do. I was cleaning flour off the cabinets and ceiling for weeks. But hey, it’s the thought that counts.”

It’s a …

The preparations for your gender reveal are in full swing at the local park and your grid kids are at the heart of it. They’ve split into two factions: Team Girl, led by Charles and Lance, and Team Boy, spearheaded by Max and Lando.

Charles and Lance have laid out a series of pink challenges, including a three-legged race where participants wear pink tutus. “It’s going to be a girl, no doubt about it!” Lance proclaims confidently.

Max and Lando, on the other hand, have a blue-themed obstacle course, complete with a mini kart race. Lando, wearing a blue bandana, shouts over the ruckus, “I have no idea what you’re talking about because it’s definitely a boy.”

George has taken on the role of referee. Dressed in a striped shirt, whistle in hand, he’s ensuring that the competition remains friendly. “Remember, it’s all in good fun!” he reminds everyone, though his “Team Girl” badge suggests where his loyalties lie.

Mick, though undecided, has tie-dye patches of both blue and pink on his shirt. “I just want a healthy sibling for all of us,” he says with a gentle smile, standing back and enjoying the antics.

Sebastian, watching the chaos unfold, leans over and whispers in your ear, “Did we really think letting them plan this was a good idea?”

You laugh, “It’s a bit crazy but look at them. They’re having the time of their lives!”

The moment everyone’s been waiting for finally arrives. At the center of the park, a large, sealed box waits. As you and Sebastian approach, the grid kids form a circle around it, their playful banter coming to a halt.

With a shared look of excitement, you both pull on the ribbon. The box flaps open, releasing a cloud of ... green smoke?

The park erupts in a mixture of laughter and confusion.

Max looks baffled, “Green?”

Charles chuckles, “Guess neither team wins today!”

Lando, trying to waft away the smoke, jokes, “Alien? Oh my god, you’re having an alien!”

Mick wraps an arm around you, “Like I said, as long as it’s healthy.”

You smile, nestling into Sebastian’s side, “We thought we’d keep everyone guessing for a little longer.”

False Alarm

“Sebastian! The baby! I think it’s happening!” You exclaim, feeling a sudden tightening in your abdomen.

Sebastian, who was in the middle of mediating a lively debate with Max and Charles over who will be the baby’s favorite brother, nearly trips over the rug in his rush to get to you. “Okay, okay, okay. Deep breaths, in and out.”

Lance, eyes wide as saucers, frantically begins googling “how to deliver a baby” on his phone while George starts making a list of things needed for the hospital. “Towels! We need towels, right?”

Lando is somewhere on another planet, muttering to himself, “This isn’t happening. I am not ready to see a baby being born. Nope, nope, nope.”

Mick tries to restore some order. “Calm down everyone. Y/N, are you sure it’s really labor?"

Before you can respond, Charles bursts through the door, holding a bucket of ice. “I read somewhere you might need ice. Here!”

You laugh through the discomfort, appreciating the chaos ensuing because of your grid kids’ concern. "Actually guys, I think it’s just Braxton Hicks. False alarm.”

A collective sigh of relief sweeps the room. Sebastian, still slightly pale, pulls you into a hug, “You sure know how to keep things exciting.”

Lance looks up from his phone, “What’s Braxton Hicks?”

“It’s like a rehearsal for the real thing,” George explains, folding up his hastily made list.

Max, trying to regain his cool, smirks, “Well, if that was a rehearsal, the main event is going to be epic.”

You chuckle, patting your belly, “Guess the little one just wanted to see how quickly you all could jump into action.”

Putting the “Student” in “Student Drivers”

As you and Sebastian sit on the couch, going over your prenatal class schedule, a curious George peeks over. “What’s that? Are those the birthing classes?”

You nod, “Yep! We’re starting next week. It’ll help us prepare for the big day.”

Suddenly, Charles pops up beside George, eyes widening in interest. “Can we come?”

“That sounds cool! I’ve always wondered what those classes are like.” Lando chimes in from where he’s keeping an ear out in the kitchen.

Sebastian looks a bit overwhelmed, “I thought it was just going to be the two of us.”

Lance joins the group, scrolling through a magazine article about celebrity dads attending birthing classes. “Look at this! It’s a thing now. We could all go and support you both.”

Max adds, “Besides, we’re family. We’ve been there through everything else. Why not this?”

“Do they even allow so many people to join?” Mick ponders.

You can’t help but laugh at the eager faces in front of you. “I never thought I’d have to bring an entourage to a birthing class.”

Sebastian rubs his temples. “Okay, how about this? We’ll ask the instructor if it’s okay. If they allow it, you guys can join on one condition.”

Lando bounces on his toes, “What’s that?”

“No teasing or making jokes during the class. We’re there to learn and be supportive.”

Charles nudges Max, “That’s mainly directed at you.”

Max fakes innocence. “Me? I would never!”

You shake your head, “Alright, I’ll call tomorrow and see if our little ... or rather large group can attend.”

Your grid kids cheer, excited about the new adventure. As they scatter, already planning and discussing among themselves, Sebastian leans over to whisper in your ear, “This baby is already turning our world upside down and they’re not even here yet.”

You smile and squeeze his hand, “With this family, every moment is an adventure.”

***

The birthing center’s usual tranquil ambiance is slightly offset by the excited chatter of the grid kids as you all enter. The instructor, a calm and composed woman named Clara, raises an eyebrow at the large group but doesn’t comment. After all, it’s not every day that half of the Formula 1 grid walks into her class.

The session starts with everyone introducing themselves. Most couples share sweet stories of their relationship journey. When it's your turn, Sebastian starts, “I’m Sebastian, this is my wife, Y/N,” he pauses, motioning to the group, “and these are ... our sons.”

The room erupts in chuckles. One of the expectant mothers quips, “That’s a lot of kids! You two have been busy!”

Clara moves on with the class, demonstrating breathing techniques. Everyone’s earnest attempt to follow along results in a mix of deep breathing, snorts, and a few stifled laughs. At one point, Max, struggling to get the rhythm right, looks over at Lando and mutters, “I feel like I’m preparing to go underwater.”

When it comes time for practicing labor positions, the grid kids enthusiastically volunteer. George and Charles end up demonstrating a position, with George playing the supporting partner and Charles the laboring mom-to-be. The sight of Charles leaning into George, pretending to be in labor, has the room laughing, especially when Charles exaggerates with dramatic moans.

Lance and Mick take a turn next and when Lance offers words of encouragement to “pregnant” Mick, saying, “You’re doing great, sweetie,” you almost fall off your chair laughing.

Towards the end of the class, Clara demonstrates the use of a birthing ball. Lando decides to take a leap onto one only to bounce off, crashing into Max and sending both of them tumbling to the ground. The room is in stitches.

Despite their hilarious antics, your grid kids genuinely try to grasp the concepts, asking thoughtful questions and engaging in the exercises.

As the class wraps up, Clara approaches you with a smile. “I must say, this has been the most ... lively class I’ve ever taught.”

You grin, “That’s one way to put it.”

She chuckles, “But it’s clear they all care deeply for you and want to support you both in any way they can.”

Sebastian nods, wrapping an arm around you, “We’re very lucky to have them.”

For Real This Time

Lando and Charles are in the middle of a heated argument over the best way to make a sandwich (complete with props and charts) when you suddenly feel a warm sensation. Looking down, your eyes widen. “Uh, guys?”

“What is it?” Sebastian jumps up right away.

You swallow, “I think my water just broke.”

For a moment, there’s stunned silence. Then … mayhem.

Max yells, “To the car! Now!” while Lance scrambles to grab the pre-packed hospital bag.

George accidentally knocks over a vase in his attempt to find your phone. “Sorry! We can clean that up later, right?”

Mick tries to maintain calm, “Everyone, deep breaths, remember the class?”

Lando, eyes wide, mutters, “This is nothing like the class.”

Upon arriving at the hospital, the reception area becomes a scene of organized chaos. As Sebastian wheels you in, the grid kids follow in a flustered procession.

A nurse at the reception desk blinks in surprise. “Is there a convention in town?”

Mick, panting slightly, replies, “No, just family.”

Lando adds, “The biggest family you’ve ever seen.”

Another nurse, recognizing some of the faces, chuckles, “Formula 1 drivers in the maternity ward? Now I’ve seen everything.”

Inside, as the medical team preps you, the grid kids stand outside, pacing and nervously waiting. They take turns peeking through the small window, offering waves and thumbs-up.

Sebastian holds your hand and doesn’t complain once as you grab back hard enough to break every bone in it, “You know, I’ve faced pressure on the track but this ... this is on another level.”

You chuckle, squeezing his hand, “Just remember, I’m doing the hard part.”

Soon enough, after what feels like both a minute and a lifetime, the beautiful cry of your newborn fills the room. Your grid kids, hearing the sound, cheer loudly, causing several nurses to hush them.

Charles, tears in his eyes, says, “We’re big brothers now. Like, for real.”

“Wait,” Lando interjects, “aren’t you already a big brother?”

“Shush mate, let me have this moment.”

Max rolls his eyes but smiles, “Welcome to the family, little one. We’re a bit crazy but we already love you so much.”

[drgnflyteabox]

Imagine you're a sheltered woman from New York in the 1850s. By the time you're a young lady both your parents are dead, so you have no choice but to leave your cushy little family home, get on a train and meet your only living relative. You're kind of useless, bookish and naive. You've never experienced anything but comfort. Your uncle tells you he doesn't want you around, but as a woman you can't do much on your own, and what could you do? You're as helpless as a lamb.

Your uncle betroths you to a man in Oregon, and ships you off to travel the oregon trail with all your treasure (jewelry, bonds, antiques, etc). The only thing is that he can't just send you on your own- you've only been in the real world the past few days to travel to him!!! You've been an anxious little hermit, and who's gonna carry your trunk full of romance books?

Your uncle hires security company 141 to escort you through the grueling journey, and you're none the wiser that company 141 doesn't exist, but outlaw gang Ghost team does...

Anyways I neeeeeeed more western and cowboy 141 and I've been playing rdr2 lately soo

This could work for any of the boys :')

Gaz who's just like your fairytale men. Kind, considerate, kisses your hand. He gives you a little extra bacon in the morning when you whine and picks wildflowers for you when he sees a pretty one (like you). You're defenseless against his charms.

Price who's...... the embodiment of your daddy issues. Spoiler? But you grew up so sheltered because your dad believed your family was cursed, and made you scared to be in the world. Price is so big and solid and comforting, older and bearlike... you definitely could call him daddy :')

Johnny who's got you flustered and blushing the entire way, even when you're miserable, when you're beyond travel weary. He's carefree about touch and space, and for someone who grew up locked in a single space for so long, you're like putty at the simplest touches from him

Simon's a wildcard. He wears a bandana, which makes everyone but the company nervous, and he's always riding off. You rarely see him, but you're mesmerized by his pale eyes and pale lashes, his scars and his story. He kind of hates you for how you don't seem to know like... anything. He let's the others care for you, counting the days until they can meet up with Kate and abandon you for dead with all your ma and pas jewelry and valuables and onto the next robbery... unless (0)o(0)

Also the guy you're meant to marry is graves LOL. Your family is deep in the railway industry and filthy rich and graves is buying up land and planting vineyards. Hes getting rich off of wine :') that's the story in my head

Plsss forgive me if this has already been written!!! I had a dream about it and I couldn't remember if it was something I'd read, or something I thought up. I looked around tumblr and ao3 for anything but couldn't find anything. Pleaseeeeee contact me if its your idea, I'm terrified of accidentally plagiarizing lol

[vivwritesfics]

I really love the F1 pets saga is so cute, maybe you can do something with one of the drivers having a duck for a pet, please

okay so i haven't been entirely too happy with my pet smau's recently So i decided to change it up to a headcanon for carlos and pete (the duck) the irony of this is that carlos's dogs look like the breed that hunts poultry (idk if it is)

with most of these pet AU's, i think its pretty clear that the reader just comes home with these pets

the same thing happened here

except, she hadn't meant to

she and her friends were out shopping, having a great time

but, when they had exhausted the shopping, they left the mall and went driving around

that was when they found a little duckling in the middle of the road

y/n's friend slammed on the breaks and y/n jumped out of the car

she scooped up the little duckling and they headed off to the vets

as soon as the vet told her that the duck wouldn't make it in the wild, she jumped at the chance to take him home

she named him pete and took him home to carlos

carlos protested at first

what did they know about keeping a duck?

but she asked for just a few days with him

carlos couldn't say no to her

for the three days that pete was in their house, carlos fell in love

his entire camera roll was pictures of pete

like, you could watch pete grow and develop in seconds through treating carlos's phone like a flip book

the fans loved pete and demanded he had his own instagram

the couple were only too happy to give them what they asked for

pete came to grand prix sometimes

or he came for the friday of the spanish grand prix

some fans who were crafty made things for pete to wear

a mclaren bandana in carlos's mclaren days

or a ferrari coat when carlos was driving for ferrari

many went wild for carlos and pete interactions

bc its so cute

when pete was smaller, carlos could walk around with him sat in his palm

pete and his dad go swimming in their pool together

they take pete on walks like he is a dog

over all pete is maybe the happiest duck out there

[ariestrxsh]

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ

⚠️ content warning: ⚠️ smut, friends to lovers

📝 author's note: 📝 part two is going to have sexual content that is violent, vile, and deranged, so be prepared for that.

✍️ Summary: ✍️ Your best friend Chris, who hasn't had pussy in months, talks you into going out drinking with him in a desperate attempt to get you both laid. Amidst all the alcohol, you guys make a pact that if you both strike out with other people, you'll just go home with each other.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ

destiny, the two-way street part one

"We should go out tonight," my best friend Chris said to me. "What for? We celebrating something?" I glanced up at him from where I was doing my makeup in front of the big mirror in my room. "Yeah, we're celebrating my three months of celibacy," Chris rolled his eyes at me.

"No celebration. I'm just horny as fuck, and it's been too long since I felt the touch of a woman. I'd fuck almost anything at this point," Chris muttered, taking a sip of his Pepsi.

"Anything?" I paused from doing my eye liner for a second and smiled up at him. He rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean. It's just been a while. Let's go out and meet some people. I'll get you laid too," Chris said nudging me, a risky move while I was applying mascara. I raised my eyebrows up at him, suggestively.

"Not like that! I meant I'd be your wingman," he giggled. That was something Chris and I bonded on, our immature, dirty humor. "Yeah, sure. Let's go out tonight. But you have to help me find something hot to wear," I agreed. Chris helped me settle upon a long black sleeve sheer top over a black bralette and a red leather mini skirt over a pair of black Converse. Chris wore a white tank top, a leather jacket, jeans, and a red bandana. We both looked hot.

A couple of hours later, Chris and I were in downtown LA, where we met up with Nick, Matt, and a few other mutual friends. We didn't have any solid plans, but we figured we'd just play the night by ear. We all got a bite to eat, Chris and I sat next to each other in the restaurant, and started taking shots together.

"You know," Chris started after we'd each choked down a shot of tequila, "I'm an optimistic man, but on the off chance that neither of us score tonight.. we should just do it with each other," Chris smiled at me with a toothpick between his teeth. My jaw dropped, "Christopher, you are desperate!" Chris fiddled with the toothpick in his mouth, "I really am. I need pussy. I'm literally already bricked up right now. I'd only last a few minutes anyway."

"Wow! How tempting," I exclaimed sarcastically, rolling my eyes. "No, I mean, I would take care of you too. I promise," he laughed. "Do you really wanna do this?" I asked him. My gaze lingered on his lips and, for a second, I considered it.

Chris shot me this look of lust and desperation that let me know he really meant it. "Okay, deal. If neither of us finds somebody to go home with tonight, we'll go home with each other." And we shook on it. "Plus that might give me the motivation I need to find somebody to fuck before the end of the night, that way I don't have anything in common with the sad, insecure, desperate women who sleep with you," I slugged him on the arm and he smiled.

Before we knew it, we were several drinks in, hopping from bar to bar. Chris was hitting it off with a pretty redhead he'd met a couple hours prior at another bar, and I was chatting with some emo looking boy Chris had introduced me to, but I couldn't remember his name for the life of me, and to be honest, I was fairly bored.

"Hey, I'm gonna go smoke a cigarette," I shouted to Chris over the music, and his eyes followed me as I made my way to the smoking area outside. In a drunken haze, I looked up at all the stars on this clear night and took it all in. I watched the smoke from my cigarette dance across the landscape in front of me as I mulled over the deal Chris and I had made earlier. I'd never thought about him like that until tonight. In fact, I'd always found him to be a huge player. I mean, of course I thought he was good-looking, but he wasn't the type of guy I usually slept with. I found myself selfishly getting my hopes up that Chris and Redhead wouldn't work out because of how horny I was, but at least I always had my hand.

I took a few drags off my cigarette, my mind wandering and thinking about things I'd never considered before - like what Chris was like in bed, what kind of things he was into. We'd talked about our sexual conquests before, but never gone into much detail, just casual, surface-level conversation.

Suddenly, I felt someone come behind me and grab me, and I spun around as fast as I could. When I saw that it was Chris laughing at me, I was pissed. "Chris, what the fuck?! I literally almost went to burn you with my cigarette because I thought you were some creep!" I shoved him away with my free hand and took a final drag before dropping the butt to the ground and squishing it into the pavement with my sole.

"Ooh, that would have been hot, I like a little pain here and there," Chris smirked back, clearly drunk. "Where's whatever her name is?" I asked. "Would you believe she blew off an upstanding guy like me?" He laughed it off. "No way, she looked like she was totally into you. I thought for sure you were gonna take her to pound town," I said in disbelief.

"So did I. She even teased me and made me all hard, and then didn't even take care of it," Chris whined, getting close to me and poking my hip with his erection. I gasped at him doing this. "Please, can we get out of here? I want you so fucking bad," Chris said, cupping my face and looking into my eyes. In that moment, I knew I wanted him so fucking bad too.

I threw my arms around his neck and let my lips crash into his. He let out a soft moan. Our kiss was long and passionate and full of tongue. I was surprised at how good Chris was at kissing. He took my bottom lip in between his teeth and tugged at it a bit, making it swollen, and I moaned against his mouth.

Chris picked me up and pushed me up against the brick wall that was behind me, I straddled him, and he held me up by my ass. I felt his rock hard member poking me between my legs, and as we continued exploring the inside of each other's teeth with our tongues, he started grinding against me, causing a wet spot to form on the front of my panties. Chris pulled away from my lips and started to kiss my neck. I needed him.

"Fuck, should I call an uber or should we walk? We're about six blocks away from my place," I asked, unhooking my legs from Chris' waist as he let me down off the wall. "Neither. We should fucking run or else I'm literally about to rail you in an alleyway," Chris said with a serious look on his face.

"Last one to my place has to give the other person head first!" I screamed, already taking off down the street. Chris chased after me, grinning bigger than I'd ever seen before.

The whole time I sprinted home, I thought about how I was actually a bit nervous to sleep with Chris. I was in the lead the first few blocks, but Chris caught up to me. "Bet you can't wait to slob all over my knob," Chris teased me as he passed me.

Sure enough, by the time I made it to my front door, Chris had already been standing there for about 30 seconds. "I know you've been waiting several months, but you're gonna have to wait another five minutes so I can drink water and to catch my breath," I said, unlocking the door.

We both had a glass of ice cold water in my kitchen. "I totally smoked you back there," Chris teased me. "Please, I let you win," I responded. "Oh yeah, you wanna go down on me that bad?" Chris asked. "Yes, actually. Dying to," I said, purposely sounding like I was being sarcastic, but I meant it.

part two here 💖

[xinxiaogato]

— snip! snip! snip...!

summary. the hairstyle of the guy with indigo eyes was very specific: a short jellyfish cut that ended at the base of his neck with wispy, sparse bangs lined up in the front. however, what would happen if your boyfriend gave someone free rein to a pair of scissors near his head?

love interests. gn!reader x kabukimono, scaramouche, and wanderer. (separately)

warnings. cursing, jealousy, unedited, and a lil spicy during wanderer’s part.

word count. 3,506.

note. let’s pretend both niwa and the nameless child (named “isamu” here) are alive at the same time for this fic… you are referred to as “reader” by the way!

꒰ 傾奇者 ꒱ — kabukimono

your cutie patootie of a boyfriend always burst through the door after working at the forge and embraced you as if centuries had passed since the last time you saw each other.

but today, for some odd reason, when you heard the familiar squeak of the front door, that squeak wasn’t followed by the usual croon of your name and a rush of footsteps toward you. instead, you listened to kabukimono wordlessly pad into the bathroom…

and he didn’t come out.

concerned for his well-being, you quickly made your way outside the room he barricaded himself in and knocked on the door twice. “kabukimono?” you called for him. “are you all right?”

silence.

and then you heard him sniffle.

“y-yeah, i’m okay,” his voice returned meekly. “please don’t worry about me…”

your heart squeezed tightly in your chest. “wait, are you crying?"

"..."

"kabukimono, please let me know what’s going on. we can work it out together. you know that.”

you prepared to give him space if there was no reply, but the door creaked open shortly after. you took that as an invitation to walk in but was abruptly glomped by him, his face buried into your chest.

“kabukimono!” startled, you tried to gently push your boyfriend off, but it was like the two of you got stuck together by adhesive glue.

“what happened?” you asked with what breath he hadn’t squeezed out of your lungs.

kabukimono was so, so embarrassed. half of the reason he refused to budge was the shame for not greeting you properly…

…but the other half was the atrocity that had become of his front bangs!

previously, niwa had noticed them getting a tad too long to the point they were poking into kabukimono’s eyes, so like a good samaritan, niwa suggested to give them a little trim. 

kabukimono should’ve protested a little harder when he saw niwa take out scissors the size of gardening shears.

“n-niwa…!” quivered kabukimono as he gawked at himself through a shard of glass.

“i’m so sorry, friend; this is all my fault! but it doesn’t look too bad?”

“…niwa, reader is going to break up with me.”

niwa offered up his bandana for kabukimono to wear home, but kabukimono knew he’ll have to face this dilemma head-on sooner or later.

however, the closer he got to his and your house of wooden veneer… the more he dreaded your reaction.

“kabukimono…” you said softly, which turned his stomach. “…may i see your face?”

“…”

against his better judgment, the wandering samurai peeled his face off of your clothes and angled it so that you could glimpse his bangs, which were much shorter than you were accustomed to. your lips parted in mild surprise as you took another second to process this.

“…i look terrible,” kabukimono murmured in the silence, tears pricking his bluish-purple eyes. he knew he was seconds away from bidding his quaint life with you goodbye. “p-please don’t leave me…” he added underneath his breath, his fingers gripping onto you tighter like you were about to disappear.

…so this is what he was trying to hide all along.

you let out a little “pfft” that captured his attention and then smoothed back his short bangs to plant a kiss as sweet as summer fruit on his forehead.

“kabukimono, you look perfect,” whispered you with only love in your eyes.

for the first time that night, kabukimono looked up and donned a gaze of profound intensity that felt like it was sucking you in. he really loved it when you said his name with your voice; it made him melt into a puddle. 

“i’m not gonna leave you over something this silly,” you continued, making him scrunch his face when you booped his nose. “besides, it’ll grow out.”

“really?” he croaked.

“really. now how about you wake up isamu while i get dinner ready?”

kabukimono blinked away tears that had threatened to spill down his cheeks earlier. you always dispelled his worries in a flash no matter how trivial they were. why did he ever have doubts in the first place? you were his sanctuary—the end-all to his anxiety of being abandoned. “okay!”

꒰ 国崩 ꒱ — scaramouche

slam!

that sound of the door to his bedroom was nothing to sneeze at, but the fact that the fatui harbinger didn’t greet you with a kiss on the lips as per usual was. hell, you didn’t even get the chance to see his face when he came home. that either meant he was really angry or really tired, and whether he joined you for dinner was up to you to test the waters.

tonight, you were feeling brave. how could he turn down your infamous chicken katsu?

“scara!” you exclaimed, wiping your hands on a towel before approaching the lion’s den. “i made dinner! or would you prefer a shower? or perhaps… moi?”

“…”

“i know you’re in there. at least give me a sign that you’re alive.”

“...”

“scaramouche! scaramouche! will you do the fandango?”

“...”

“sc-scara, there’s a fire in the kitchen!”

“…”

“seriously?”

well, you supposed you should’ve saved that one for later. you used that excuse last week to lure him out.

heaving a sigh, you turned on your heel to accept eating alone for the night when scaramouche suddenly whipped the door open and encircled his arms around you from behind, pulling a shocked you to his chest and locking you in place.

“if you turn around, we’re breaking up,” he grumbled into your ear.

“huh!?” you thrashed around in scaramouche’s grip to no avail. “that’s not something you can just decide on your own!”

“don’t care. if you saw me—!”

if you saw him, you would most definitely laugh, and the last thing scaramouche wanted to be was a laughing stock to his lover. of course he would cast aside his ego when it came to your reputation, but archons forbid you seeing him as something pitiable. not if he could help it.

“don’t you realize i’ll be more upset if i didn’t get to see your handsome face, darling?” you whined with futile tugs and twists at his wrists. “as to whatever happened, it can’t be that bad!”

oh, it was bad. really bad.

“the most important thing is eye contact!” declared his colleague with the irritatingly bright locks of orange hair. “after all, there’s a saying that eyes are the windows of the soul. how else are you supposed to communicate your feelings to them?”

“...dude, you don’t even have light in your eyes,” scaramouche responded. “why should i take advice from you?”

“what does that have to do with anything?”

sandrone’s massive puppet smacked tartaglia upside the head as she scowled. “stop making a ruckus, and just cut the balladeer’s bowlcut already. he looks homeless.”

“yes, i don’t think we can handle the sixth harbinger’s lamentation about his relationship much longer,” arlecchino grumbled, her eyes turning so far upward that they almost rolled right out of the room.

“none of you guys were even supposed to know about it!” scaramouche roared with fury practically emanating off of him.

this outburst had all the other partygoers of the tsarita’s banquet turning their heads. they couldn’t believe their eyes, but it was true. all ten executive heads of the fatui were gathered together in one place (fly high, signora). even the harbingers themselves never thought something like this would happen if it weren’t for you, who scaramouche had introduced and (to his dismay) had made them all smitten toward you. even the tsaritsa thought you were pleasant.

the fatui harbingers could not refuse your suggestion to have “team bonding events”—this gala being one of them—and the animosity between these lieutenants have actually lessened over time (by a hair’s breadth).

“i can use my water blades,” tartaglia offered, who thrusted his hands forward to summon them.

scaramouche’s hands balled into fists, ready to clock the eleventh harbinger before he even had the chance. “no. a thousand times no! don’t even get those things close to me if you want to live, you asshat.”

“what… transpired this?” whispered pulcinella, unable to keep up with the youngsters’ energy.

pantalone took it upon himself to explain the situation. “word is that our dear reader complimented the hairstyle of a subordinate working underneath the balladeer,” the regrator informed as he pushed his neck-strap spectacles higher up the bridge of his nose. “since then, he has failed to complete a single assignment.”

revealing his sharp canines, dottore snickered. “in spite of that, it truly is miraculous that the kid found someone who could get past his ironclad exterior.”

columbina hummed in agreement. “it is miraculous that anyone even likes him~!”

they eventually resorted to a pair of scissors that dottore had in his coat pocket (dottore was almost disappointed when il capitano reminded everyone that he carried one), and after some convincing and straight up fist fighting, it was decidedly pulcinella who got on a stool to give scaramouche a snip.

and pulcinella… doesn’t have the best eyes.

“if it’s about your dark circles, it’s okay,” you reassured scaramouche back in the present. “i’ll always accept you the way you are.”

“i don’t have dark circles!” in a fit of rage, scaramouche spun around to glare at you while blinking several times in quick succession and—lo and behold—gave you front-row seats to pulcinella’s botched job at cutting his bangs, which now ended halfway down his forehead. scaramouche felt his heart drop into his stomach at the sight of your widened eyes before he shoved his hat into your face and stormed off.

“w-wait, scara!” you chased after him to the living room, and he still refused to face you. “that was what you were worried about me seeing?”

following that was a silence that thickened the air. you walked up to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder. “hey… i like guys with short hair, you know?”

…

…

…

“...but that damn skirmisher had long hair,” your boyfriend grumbled.

ah. this confirmed your suspicion that he overheard you speaking to his underling. little did scaramouche know that you had just been asking about your boyfriend’s whereabouts that day (but of course the balladeer anxiously spying on you the whole time made it impossible for you to locate him).

“i also like guys with blue hair and blue eyes.” you went to stand in front of scaramouche and placed his kasa hat back onto his head before squishing his face with your hands. he furrowed his eyebrows and tried to pull away, but the almighty harbinger became weak before you very easily. “i like guys with red eyeliner. a big hat. a haughty attitude. i like you, darling. and nothing is going to change that.”

scaramouche clenched his jaw and looked down at the floor dejectedly. “...how can you stand it though? you just said my attitude is haughty. is that… fine?”

“i’m still here, aren’t i?” you smiled. “and i’m not going anywhere. even if you went bald.”

“...do not allow that image to form in your brain, reader.”

“it’s too late.”

“reader!”

but despite the irritation laced in his voice, his lips were curled into a smile reserved only for his lover’s eyes. he liked you, too, and nothing was going to change that.

꒰ 放浪者 ꒱ — wanderer

“lesser lord kusanali.”

the dendro archon whirled around and almost let out a breath of relief at the sight of you entering the sanctuary of surasthana, your fingers intertwined behind your back. “grand sage, it is good to see you,” nahida greeted earnestly. “i’m sorry for contacting you on such short notice, but you were the only one i could think of reaching out to.”

“really?” you cocked an eyebrow as you descended down the white stone walkway. not at all did you mind chatting with nahida when you had the chance, but if you were the only person capable of solving her problem, it must be serious. “what could be the matter?”

“well… it’s rather a long story.” scratching her cheek, the dendro archon recounted what took place that morning.

“what are you thinking about?” the little archon questioned as she and wanderer strolled along the outskirts of the city.

wanderer kicked a rock that had the misfortune of being in his path. “you and i both know the answer to that,” he stoically replied.

“has it been that long since you and reader have seen each other?”

those words made something in wanderer’s chest feel a foreign pang, one that only occurred when he envisioned your face.

“i know that they’re busy with official affairs,” he scoffed, coming to a full stop. nahida followed suit, looking back at him with a hand to her heart. “it just can’t be safe for humans to stay cooped up inside of their offices all day long.”

nahida knew the nonchalance in wanderer’s tone was just a cover-up for how much he missed you, and the archon was all too familiar with that feeling. “wanderer—”

“i’m gonna make them regret prioritizing their work over me.”

with a tip of his hat, wanderer started trudging back the way they came.

“hey, wait!” she rushed after him and clung onto one of the blue fabrics dangling from the back of his head covering, which yanked him back toward her.

“what?” he deadpanned.

“how are you planning to make reader regret it?” she asked her disciple, anxious about letting him out of her sight.

“...”

wanderer recalled overhearing a conversation in the grand bazaar. a woman was fawning over her husband’s new appearance, who shaved off his beard earlier that day because he wanted to surprise her, and it was like she fell in love with him for the first time all over again.

wanderer wanted you to fall in love with him all over again.

“haircut,” he grunted.

“haircut?” nahida echoed.

“i want a haircut.” wanderer blatantly pointed at his head.

nahida took a moment to process his request before breaking out into a smile antagonistic to his scowl. “leave it to me!”

“and that was my first time cutting someone’s hair…” concluded nahida quite dejectedly. “...so you can imagine his fury when he got his hands on a mirror…”

“oh, archons,” you muttered right in front of her, slapping a hand to your face. “where is he now?”

“i’m not sure… i think he grumbled something about curling up in a corner and never seeing a single person again before he flew away.”

the only place you could imagine he escaped to was your shared home together in sumeru city, which was the biggest decision you two had carried out together in your relationship so far. however, you had no idea that the house became such a lonely place for wanderer. anguish squeezed your heart as you pictured him eating dinner alone, pretending the food was satiating like you had suggested in the past because he had wanted to be more human. “like you,” he had said.

“please let the other sages know i am taking an early leave,” i said, pivoting on my heel. “lunch is on me tomorrow!”

“good luck!” nahida called out to you, and as you pushed through the doors of the sanctuary, you felt like you grew wings right there and then.

when was the last time you inhaled a breath of fresh air…?

you dashed home as fast as your little legs (that had been stationary for what? six days?) could carry you home. along the way, nilou stopped you to discuss performing for the people in aaru village, cyno wished to speak about dispatching additional soldiers to monitor trade in the caravan ribat, and al haitham wanted a vacation(?)

however, you had to direct each one of them to your p.o. box because there was one request that waited to be fulfilled for a long, long time.

“babe!” you exclaimed, stumbling a bit as you peeled off your shoes at the doorway. “babe, are you home?”

silence. every step you took further down the hallway entrance felt like stepping onto an eggshell, and your mind started to wonder. was he not actually here? where could he have gone then?

“babe—”

in a flash, you were tightly enveloped by a pair of arms that knocked the wind out of your lungs. you almost lost your footing if it weren’t for the wall right behind you while, in front of you, your lover’s shaking eyes were trying to immortalize every detail of your face onto the canvas of his mind.

“reader…” wanderer mumbled, his cold hands cupping your cheeks like they were made of glass. “you’re here.”

a complicated feeling began to creep up inside of your chest. you didn’t even have the heart to “pfft” at his bangs that looked like a kindergartener had cut it (which wasn’t far from the truth). the crooked ups and downs of his bangs were the least of your concerns.

“i’m so sorry, wanderer,” you whispered as you reached up and gently held his wrists. “i’ve been so busy with attending meetings and approving requests that—”

“shut it.”

wanderer leaned in and hungrily captured your lips with his, and it didn’t take long before they began to trail butterfly kisses down your jaw and to your neck. his grazing teeth coaxed small noises from your mouth as they made light work of your sensitive skin.

“wanderer, wait…”

he pulled back momentarily to look you dead in the eye. “i have waited far too long,” wanderer snarled. “just let me have you, reader…”

you could not risk losing the ability to walk like last time. an idea came over you in that moment to break the spell clouding wanderer’s eyes with lust and desire.

“i’M gONna mAke tHem rEGret pRioriTiziNg thEir worK oVEr Me!” you cried out dramatically as if you had been fatally wounded.

your allusion was so out of character that it completely caught him off guard. as wanderer pressed his lips into a thin line, he created some room for jesus between his body and yours and asked in a contemptuous voice, “did lesser lord kusanali make you come here?”

“of course not. i’m here because of you, babe.” you chuckled. “did you think i wouldn’t notice all the subliminal messages you planted in your works?”

wanderer’s eyes widened in light of that. “you read the scholars’ papers?”

“not typically, but i asked the sage of the vahumana darshan to provide me with yours,” you clarified.

you adored the way your partner wrote—even if he always acted like crafting those essays together was a chore. reading his dissertation on societal issues in inazuma was actually how you two crossed paths, as you voraciously sought the author behind it. who would have predicted that the aloof, cold stranger nahida introduced to you as “hat guy” became your clingy mess of a boyfriend years later?

“whatever, don’t pull that disappearing act on me again,” he snapped, flicking your forehead in an odd display of affection. you held back a few colorful words from the sheer strength he put into that finger.

“it’s not like i was trying to avoid you,” you stated. “plus, i would argue that you disappeared, too, babe. even our archon couldn’t surmise where you ran off to.”

“well, you knew where to find me.” and that’s all that matters, he chose not to add.

a soft laugh bubbled from your throat as you directed your attention back to what made him disappear in the beginning. “hey… there’s no need to doll yourself up to get my attention.” you gently swept his silky bangs to the side. “you are always on my mind and even more so when we’re apart.”

a hush descended over the world around you two as wanderer squinted his troubled eyes and averted them to the floor in deep thought.

he could not kid himself any longer. you, a measly and pathetic mortal, had successfully slipped past the outer shell he built to fool irminsul into believing that he was not an individual worthy of loving, existing, redeeming.

“...”

“wanderer?”

"...rea..."

reader, each day felt longer than the last without you by my side.

i never thought i would have a person in this world who wanted me as much as you do.

 if i had to thank beelzebub for one thing, it would be creating me so that i could meet you.

you are the center of my universe.

“teyvat to wanderer…?”

but wanderer would rather die than say allat. hmm, maybe he’ll put those heartfelt words on paper so that you can read them in your office, giggling and kicking your feet.

in the meantime, he settled on dragging you to the bedroom. “you’re getting punished anyway.”

“wha…!? wait, wanderer!”

but on the inside, you were so happy that it didn’t matter if your boyfriend had to fly you to the akademiya every morning for the next several days. you wished for nothing to take away the beautiful smile you could see creeping onto his face.

© xinxiaogato. please do not translate my work without permission or attempt to plagiarize it.

[trashmouth-richie]

older! eddie x fem! reader

summary: when your bf skips town /‘s you can’t pay your rent, you put on your best outfit and knock on your landlord’s door begging for forgiveness

@eddiemunsons-missingnipple for the Eddie edit

w/c: 3.8k

t/w: 18+ ONLY —heavy smut, degrading, hair pulling, mouth fucking, choking, edging, switch!, daddy!kink

He was an asshole to extraordinary proportions. A life full of mold covered lemons would do that to a person. You were nervous, to approach him. But something told you he’d hear you out— listen to you. Maybe even be sympathetic to your pleads.

Yeah right.

As if he were made of anything but pure hatred. Toxicity swirled in his veins, his poisoned skin covered by decades worth of tattoos; all dark and sharp edged.

His peppered scruff balanced out his naturally soft eyes. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. A scowl that would make any resident of Forest Hills Trailer Park think twice about crossing. But you were left with no choice. When Trey had ditched town with the human bicycle Chrissy Cunningham, you were short on rent. Bills were tight, and you often ate in the dark, or by candle light. Anything to save a bit of money.

And that’s what led you here. Standing at your landlord’s door. Putting on an extra swipe of lipgloss, making sure to curl your hair, and wear a low cut tank top, the only push up bra you owned, and some cheap lashes from the mall— you knocked politely on the sun faded door. Hoping for some sort of a miracle that Mr. Munson would take pity on you.

One knock. Nothing.

Another. Still nothing.

It’s not until you are slapping your hand into the door that a voice behind you startles you nearly out of your too short skirt.

“What’d’ya need?” He’s covered in motor oil and grease, standing below you on the dirt and sparse grass covered ground, wiping his hands on a once red rag, a ring of sweat around his white tank top, bandana wrapped around his head, cigarette hanging gingerly from his slack lips.

He remembers the day you had moved in, it was freezing cold in early February. All by yourself, moving things one at a time in a shitty old Buick he hadn’t seen around since his high school days. He wanted to offer his help, something he didn’t give to anyone. But something about the way you smiled as he showed you around the dingy shithole of a trailer, voicing your opinions on what could be spruced up, made him hate you a little bit less.

Everyone in the park knew not to bother Eddie. He was a grumpy, mean son of a bitch and his patience was rail fucking thin. The Johnson’s dog went missing? No shit, he was the one who called animal control to come and pick it up, fucker had fleas and probably rabies. Can I paint the kitchen? Fuck no. The sink isn’t working at lot 8. Call a mechanic. And just for the annoyance he upped their rent $100.

Seeing you on his steps, dressed like that, sparkly tits, and your bra showing through your tank top had his dick twitching in his pants. Of course you were a smoke show, and he was honestly surprised to hear that ol’ what’s his face ran out on you with Chrissy Cuntingham. Her shit had been rode hard and put away wet more times that could be accounted for. Bitch still wore her homecoming tiara and had her green and orange pom poms in the back window of her car— despite the fact that graduation was more than 25 years ago. Worse than an alleycat, and smelling like one, Chrissy mostly kept herself busy by buying the minors alcohol or showing her many “party tricks” to the bachelors of the park. Sitting on his porch, smoking a joint like he did every night, Eddie took note of the black jeep that showed up every Thursday outside trailer 6, a graying head of suave douche boy hair could only be one person, Jason Carver.

He took note that your trailer, right next to his, was full of screaming and yelling when your boyfriend was home. A noise all too familiar in the trailer park, bouncing off Eddie’s ears like birds chirping.

But when he was gone? The window to your bedroom would be cracked open ever so slightly, propped open with the soft cover of Stephen King’s IT. The kitten purr of a vibrator and your delicate moans sang out to him. A siren amongst lonely fishermen, calling out to them in song of entrapment only to eat their souls, bodies never found amongst the dark sea bed. At first he thought it was wrong to listen, wrong to hear your pleasuring yourself, but he had sworn he heard his name on your lips, more than once. Fisting his cock angrily to your voice, your wet mouth, swollen lips from him sucking on them, pretty little pussy aching for him. He didn’t need playboys anymore when he had your face to imagine. And imagine he had.

What would your sweet pussy look like wrapped around his cock? Would you swallow his load down your throat if he asked, demanded you to? Sweet thing like you wouldn’t have to worry about anything if you were his. The choked laugh after he finishes all over his hand makes him shake his head at the idea. He didn’t know your age, old enough to be on your own but definitely not 45 like he was. Visions of your sugar plum tits bouncing in his face as you rode him on the itchy couch in his living room, lulled him to sleep most nights.

He saw a peek of a tattoo on your side when you were hanging clothes on the line. Your body drove him in, his eyes melting around your curves, the swell of your ass in the jean cut off shorts you wore. When you saw him staring you waved him over, a devilish grin on your lips, a wanting sparkle in your eye.

He knew your type, trouble. And oh fuck the trouble he would love to be in. He’d never volunteered to fix anyone's appliances. But your silky saccharine voice had him calling a mechanic in a few days time, would have been sooner if he could have tore his eyes away from your tanned legs, but he kept those extra days all to himself, whimpering at night with a sore cock your name on his breath. It had been seven months of you living next door, your vibrator turned on like clockwork every day your boyfriend left for work.

And now here you are. Looking at him with “fuck me” eyes and a glossy smile on your lips. Those same lips purring out pleasantries about how fuck face left you and you were needing an extension on rent. The swell of the summer sun hit your cheeks, making you glow like some love sick angel on his steps. He was fucked. And soon— you would be too.

“So what?” He tried to gamble, tried to keep his hard facade, “an extension and then what’s next? You’re gonna tell all your little friends that I give hand outs to the needy? Oh no doll, not today.”

He pushes his way around you and into his trailer, the pungent smell of too strong incense burns your nostrils as you hold the door from him shutting it.

“Please, Mr. Muns—.”

“Eddie,” he grumbles.

“Eddie, please— I’m begging you,” the glimmer of a tear welling in your eyes, your voice dipping low into an almost whisper as you made your way inside, shutting the door behind your back and feeling around for the lock, “I’ll do anything.”

Eyes dripping of sex appeal and lust, you tip your tongue to the center of your top lip, eyeing his tightened jeans and you swear you see his dick twitch beneath the stretched denim.

Cock at full alert he shakes his head, his head dipped low and eyeing you up and down, lip bit between his teeth. A low groan in his throat, he talks in a gritting whisper, “Don’t start something you can’t finish sweetheart.”

“Oh I plan on finishing, big boy,” you hum walking towards him, devilish grin planted on your lips, “I don’t think we’ll have a problem with that, will we daddy?”

Fuck. Not even touching you yet and Eddie is rock hard, he could probably cum if you asked him to. Thanking a higher power that he wasn’t twenty anymore, he’s got years of stamina built under his worn leather belt. “You’re about to write a check your ass can’t cash doll, you sure this is what you want?”

“stop talking,” you breath, inches from his lips, he can taste the peach flavored lipgloss on his tongue, “and fuck me.”

Not needing any more of an okay than that, Eddie turns you around in a swift motion, a gasp escapes your lungs and he catches you before you stumble over your heels. He drags your hips down into him, your ass round and luscious on his stiffened length. He rips the neck of your tank top open exposing the mountainous swell of your chest and your cheap K-Mart bra. Pinching your laced nipples between his rough fingers, he rolls them like joints as his hot mouth assaults your neck, painting you, he sucks bruises into your neck, licking them better with tiny flicks of his satanic tongue and ending in a bite, marking you as his.

Pushing your ass into him you can feel his cock. His achingly girthy length has you soaking your panties, dripping wet just for him. His smokey smell is mixed with sweat as you angle your neck back against his shoulder, moaning into him as he sucks like a vampire into your neck. His stubble rubbing against your skin.

“Eddie,” you moan breathless into the humid air of his trailer.

He groans, your body pushed tight against him has his head spinning, drunk off your touch. Grabbing your skirt and yanking upward. Dripping in anticipation, your panties could be wrung out, your arousal pooling from the center and beading slowly to the ground. He hisses and hums when his finger first skates along the slick of your panties with a schlick, “fuck, all this for me doll?” He’s playing now, his thick fingers moving in lazy circles around your clit, your creamy pussy clenching desperately on nothing, you nod with a whimper.

“You gonna make all those pretty little noises I hear from your window once that dumbass you let fuck you leaves the house every day? Hmm? Didn’t think I could hear did you?” His cocky bravado kicks his cock up on your ass, sending a moan through your body as you rub deeper into him.

Quite the opposite actually

Purring into his neck you lick the expanse of skin he’s showcasing. Blowing hot on the slicked spit from your tongue, you rotate your hips to angle his fingers better on your clit, the sensitivity rolling like an electric current through your veins.

“I did it on purpose,” you confess breathlessly as Eddie’s fingers stop. “Watching you stare at me for months, I knew you’d touch yourself over me.”

Eddie groans gutturally twisting your body into the front door, back hitting the broken shades with a thud. In milliseconds he is on you, hot tongue lapping up your neck and biting with enough force to break skin. No time to be patient to have you undress for him, he shoves your skirt up tipping your panties clean off. Your exposed pussy shuddering with his blown breath on your slick core. His devilish eager tongue expertly licks and teases your clit. Humming with each jerk of your body as the sensitivity makes you squirm. Tongue wiggling inside of you like an eel, your hands are gripping his hair for dear life, yanking at the roots like you’re pulling weeds. Your thigh is on his shoulder, the leg on the ground begins to shake as your first orgasm rips like a tidal wave through you. Head thrown back against the door, moaning loud enough for the entire park to hear— you don’t care.

Your noises stir Eddie’s arousal even more. Whimpering as he grip him impossibly tighter he a broken, “fuck,” into your folds as he goes back for seconds, “you’re gonna get me into trouble, pussy so fucking sweet.” His lips are wet, your arrival shining like pretty lipgloss allover hos chin and lips. Already spent from the teasing and the damn breaking, Eddie hikes you up over his shoulder, your bare volumtuous ass bouncing with every step. He throws you onto a king sized bed, unmade and reeking of weed. Rolling papers on the night stand along with several lighters you aren’t given much time before Eddie kicks his jeans off, boxer briefs do him justice as his cock jumps to his belly when he unthreads his legs from them. Pearly beads of pre cup drip from the thick head.

Eddie leans forward and places a thick hand on your neck, your vision blurs and returns with each grip he threatens and releases his teeth biting your lips, slow drops of blood seep from his bites, he licks the wounds clean.

“Havent used rubbers since the 80’s and I won’t, so are you on the pill or are we ending this right now?”

“Pill,” you warble, chords of your neck strained against his hand.

“Thatta girl,” he praises, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, “I’m gonna fill you up full with my cum you’ll be leaking it out for hours.. maybe days.”

Tears sting your eyes at the thought of his glorious pearly cum deep in your walls painting them pretty, “please daddy, I need it.”

Eddie grins, “so needy baby, you want this cock?” he asks, flicking it through your folds, a noise resembling macaroni and cheese is blasts from your core, he groans deep, “so fucking wet,” his lip is almost bit in half with how he’s trying to hide his excitement, “I’m gonna wreck this sweet pussy so you won’t be able to walk home.”

Whimpering like a bitch in heat, Eddie flips you over, angles your ass up, slapping each cheek hard enough a red hand print sized welt develops almost immediately, he pushes all of himself into you, bottoming out as you moan and cry thanking God in your head as you’re split open, a welcomed pain. Spit soaks his sheets from your mouth when he pulls out, “oh you can take it, honey, don’t fucking quit on me.”

“I’m n—,” gasping loudly when he spits harshly on your ass. Rubbing his thumb against the pink button. The new sensation brings color to your closed eyes, stars and shapes of all size float in your closed mind, your pussy clenched harder around Eddie as you whine his name.

“Yeah?” Eddie moans, “told you daddy would take care of you, that needle dick can’t make you feel like this can he?”

you try to choke out a ‘no’ but no noise comes out, your head is thrown back violently as Eddie grabs your hair in one hand and pounds mercilessly into you.

Eddie is grunting with each slap of his heavy sack against your clit, “this is what you came here for right? Bad girl can’t pay her rent so she came to fuck the owner in exchange?” His taunting only makes you wetter, makes you clench his harder as you come undone for the second time. Screaming his name until you’re breathless. Panting and sweating like you ran a marathon. He gives you one more deep thrust of his hips and watches you fall forward.

“Look at the mess you made you little whore,” Eddie spits, venom laced words on that glory filled tongue, as he drags you by your hair to look at his soaked cock, “lick it up, want you to know how fucking sweet you taste.”

Eddie flips you over like a rag doll, positioning you the way he wants. Head dangling off the mattress, Eddie groans as he jams his cock into your throat, holding it there and choking you simultaneously. He reached to the night stand and grabs a black small vibrator placing it on your clit. The vibrations make you moan and choke around his length and against his hand. Eyelids fluttering shut you’re positive you can’t breathe, just when you’re about to pass out he brings you back, letting you breathe for a few seconds, chuckling to himself as you enter the hazy bliss of intoxicating euphoria. Your body convulses under his. Begging for a third orgasm, you can taste the earthy tang of your release and Eddie’s pre cum mix on your tongue.

His girth fills your throat completely, barely leaving room for your own tongue in your mouth. He’s dripping sweat onto your own body you can feel it slip from your belly button down into the curve of your neck. Eddie's hair is swaying in conjuncture with his hips slamming home against your face. Using your mouth like his own fist has you soaking the sheets, clit over stimulated, a deep bruise settling inside the soft silk of your velvet folds. A bruise you’d wear proudly for weeks to come.

Slapping your face as you gag lightly, mind steadily focusing on the jerking of your legs and the vibrating pulse of your cunt. Eddie shushes you reassuring you, tauntingly “someone too big for their britches huh? Work through it, sweetheart— that’s it, fuck good girl,” he chokes a whimper down his own throat as your tongue swirls around him. “Christ, swallowing what I give you, such a good girl for daddy.” Eddie thrusts one more deep cant of his hips into your mouth groaning deeply when you hollow your cheeks. Letting you breathe freely.

“You like that? Like me using you like a worthless fucking toy?” Eddie lifts you up to his face by your hair, kissing your lips delicately, you nod and whimper as he harshly sucks and nips at your neck leaving purpling marks in his wake.

Unabashedly you scratch your long nails into his chest, leaving your own mark on him as he groans against your skin. “My turn,” you whisper as you crawl into a standing position in front of him. Kissing him sweetly and pulling his bottom lip between your teeth, he whimpers at your touch. A tantalizing smile radiates across your lips. Eddie Munson a switch? Who knew? Pushing his shoulders backwards he falls on the bed, curtains of curls cascade around him and his face is turned up in shock then to a satanic grin.

Wiggling your tight skirt down your body you stand in only your heels.

“Fuck, you are a goddess.” Eddie groans, stroking his thick length in slow rhythmic motions as he stares at your body shamelessly, you climb towards him on his messy sheets between his legs your poor abused throat sore and bruised from his animalistic fucking.

His chest is littered with tattoos both old and new, faded and blown out lines mixed amongst sharp edged fresh ones stark against his pale skin. Blistering red lines decorate him from your nails earlier. Knees on either side of his hips you slot your pussy lips against his needy thick cock, sliding forward and back again, your hands on his chest for leverage. Leaning up on his elbows and moving you both backwards so he can rest his back against the headboard, he scants forward to kiss you but you push his forehead away dumbly.

Tsking and using few words to speak with a hoarse voice you whisper, “no touching.” Grinding your hips down into him, pocketing his cock in your slick folds like a sword in a sheath, you lick a stripe up his neck and land at this ear, your pretty moans singing to him like a demon seeking a naive victim. His hips jump with each roll of your own, desperate for relief he whimpers and whines as he’s close and you retreat. Starting all over again. After the third go around his bangs are stuck to his forehead, cheeks warm with a frustrated, worked up blush as you edge him again and again.

“Mmm’ fuck that’s a good cock daddy,” you moan as you come hard on his cock again making a mess yet again, he groans as you milk him for all he’s worth, your creamy pussy clenching against him, and your denial of his release is too much for him. “you wanna come for me?”

Eddie nods in spent anticipation, practically tearing up from being so worked up and being able to release himself. “Please— I can’t,” he groans, as you start grinding on him again, only this time you give in, hugging him in a pinky sheath of gummy walls and slick floors. “Christ,” he melts as you bounce atop his cock, dragging your hips backward and forward helping him hit the spot you so desperately craved from him. His thick hands are on your hips moving you to his liking, a pebbled nipple in his mouth makes you cry out his name as he pumps into you holding you still.

He slaps your ass, “I’m gonna come, shit, fuck!” He hums your name as hot ropes of his thick release coats your walls and floods out you don’t stop riding him, coaxing every last drop out of him until he’s hissing through his teeth as his softened length falls out of you, hot, reddened and aching.

Eddie pulls you to him, kissing your neck and scooting you both down the bed. “Think you’re my favorite tenant,” he laughs as you lay motionless on top of him, both breathing heavily.

“Jesus, I’d hope so, but maybe Miss Richard’s comes over here to get some money knocked off her rent,” you tease, tracing circles into his spotty chest hair, “heard she’s real pretty in her nightgown, just gotta be careful of her poligrip.”

He laughs again, smacking your ass, “you’re a fuckin’ brat y’know that?”

“And you’re a filthy fucker, quite the pair I’d say,” you spit before biting his chest.

Eddie yanks you by your hair to look you in the eyes, “not every day a pretty baby like you comes knocking on my door to rattle my cage and get free rent. But I’d like if you came over more often, that attitude needs adjusting.”

“oh really?” you question, hand under your chin like you’re bored as you roll your eyes, “and your old ass is gonna be the one to tame me huh?”

You spend a greater part of the night bent over Eddie’s knee, his studded belt in his hand as he whips you again and again. Tears spill from your eyes, and coat his thighs. Eddie’s sadistic ass only grins, a joint hanging limply from his lips, shushing you softly, “don’t cry honey, I told you your ass wouldn’t be able to cash that check.”

-

-

👅 I’m gonna go touch grass now

[onyourhyuck]

GOLDEN HOUR. | L.MK

— Prologue: “Excuse me waiter?”

— Summary: You’re a waiter and Mark Lee the local biker and infamous bad boy loves the eggs your diner makes, but now he wants a taste of you.

— Genre: Smut, smut smut. Minors DNI. Badboy biker!marklee. Waiter!y/n. Lots of degrading terms as well as praising (we lot a degradation + praise moment) Public sex. Literally they do it on his freaking BIKE. Hairpulling. Teasing. Y/n is a big fucking tease. Playful banter. Enemies to ???. Y/n is made to humble Mark Lee. Mark calls Y/n Good girl. Y/n has a hand kink. Mentions of rings/jewellery. Mark is a massive ass guy here. Groping. Spitting on her ass. Ass play. Male receiving head. Mark literally grabs y/n’s face and made her to submission.

— Notes: Mark’s song Golden Hour inspired me by this…. I will write an apology for this filth you’re about to witness.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You are a hard working woman, you love your work. You believe nothing comes easy in life so it’s useful to have hard shell around you to protect you from all sorts of evil this world has to offer. You don’t have the patience or the time to be wasting on useless things that do not serve you, your mind has always been set on this certain job you’ve been working on for a year nearly. You ended up loving it so much.

At first you weren’t sure if this job was the path you wanted to take but now you wouldn’t trade it for the world. You couldn’t careless if this job wasn’t going to pay you more than you needed in the next following years because as long as you are happy enjoying it; you thought screw it. This job may seem like a temporary waste but to you it was a long term source of your happiness and so many memories.

You’ve met good customers, some customers weren’t just as pleasant but nonetheless everyone you meet in this diner was a blessing in disguise.

Your coworkers were as equally happy to have you join them and light up this diner making it your own home. They wouldn’t change it for the world, you formed bonds no one could ever replace in your heart. To the point your boss was kind enough to promote you to head waitress diner and have made arrangements to have your own personal keys to the diner. So everytime you have yourself a night shift you can close down anytime you are done.

Your colleagues were glad to have you around the diner because without you many of them wouldn’t be able to get out there. Once a coworker you know couldn’t make it to the shift because of their blind date, you without any consideration stepped up and said you will take it. No matter how busy you are the diner comes first to you.

On this day you were opening the diner letting the customers in view come inside. It wasn’t busy and it was rather quiet in the morning. You couldn’t really tell what it was you’re feeling when it’s just you in the diner. No one else arrived and you were the first one.

You brush the broom on the floor sweeping the marble flooring the large diner owns, you hum a longing melody to yourself quietly as the empty diner leaves you waiting for anyone to come in, anticipating your colleagues and more. But the moment the front bell rang on the door making you swing your back straight to look at the front a gang of bikers pull up at the front entrance with their roaring lioness engines.

Wearing black and leather made up of straight skinned people, bandanas on the hairline or the beads — some wearing boots so heavy it made your own body shudder by the weight they are pulling on the feet itself. Streak of blonde hair entering the restaurant, wearing a brown leather jacket, a loose cast white shirt, the hair ruffled up and styled so lavishly it made him reek of trouble. You could smell it from miles away and it certainly wasn’t a pleasant fried egg smell it was a rotten roast of trouble smoking behind the young man.

It’s as if everything in the diner went dark and more silence came out than before even though it was only you in that diner. Somehow his company made you even more stunned. You don’t remember seeing him round here often enough because you remember everyone of your customers. You try to at least, and you’re more than sure that this man who strut in to your diner you’d remember a face like his.

Putting the broomstick on the wall you wipe your hands on the diner apron you have wore everyday your shift starts. Walking over to the table where that young blonde man with his obvious dyed hair and piercing cold eyes sat. Holding the menu in his hands you reopen you small notepad and take out an ink black pen.

You smile out. “Hello sir what will you be having today?” You say as if you weren’t saying this to everyone in your shift.

The young man hums out looking at you. “I have not decided just yet.” He was rather picky on which egg he wants today. You see, Mark loves his eggs a certain way. They have to be perfect and matching to the needs and cravings he has for a certain period of time. Unlike in your sight.

You tap your feet on the ground slightly staring him down after twenty minutes standing there. Mark kept his fingers gracing them on the menu at each egg point still not able to pick a damn meal. You slit your teeth together.

His fingers raided with diamond rings on them blink to the reflection of the light coming out the diner window could blind your almond doeish eyes. The way his hands were taking their dear sweet time reading every word, you couldn’t help but observe the size of his fingers and the beautiful flashy rings; you hated how your thoughts got unholy the moment his eyes saw your intense gaze at his fingers but he didn’t mention it. You wait at the counter staring him down into disbelief.

‘God I hope he didn’t see me staring at his hands.’ You wanted to mentally pray he didn’t. You told yourself to pretend like nothing has happened.

You’re back to being filled with annoyance to see more minutes passing by and the customer up front not choosing yet.

You love this job, okay, you really do. But you hate indecisive customers the fucking most.

‘Just pick something everything is eggs. What’s so hard about picking an egg.’ You wanted to scream to him, scream and tell him to get on with it. Eggs are eggs. They’re not much different to taste until you pick the seasonings.

“Are you here to eat or are you here to piss around causing trouble here?” You seethe gently trying to come out as passive aggressive. You don’t want to be rude but this boy was really tearing your patience apart from you. I mean, look at Mark. The young man came out lavish dressed just to look down at the diner menu and not pick a single thing over the next thirty minutes.

Mark flaunts at you with a wide smirk. “I dunno that depends on your answer.”

Your eyebrows rose up confused together, arching down like an innocent aisle. He couldn’t lie but he loved the way your reactions were so easy to read, he could tell he was annoying you and that’s exactly what he wanted to do. You cross your arms questioning that he might of came here with a higher purpose than to just eat eggs at your diner.

“What are you on about?” You ask out loud.

“What’s your name sweet lips?” Mark’s words echo right at you like a radioactive bomb flaming your skin open melting it like it were pure wax. You stare impatiently, clenching your jaw together. “It’s Y/n.”

Until you calm down your nerves you loosen up and reply unbothered, or you pretend to be. You won’t give him the attention. It’s clear he was flirting his way into your head and you can’t get away from it without putting on a professional fake smile. “Call me when you’re ready to eat.” You turn around walking away to clean more of the diner.

Mark’s eyes land on your back and down to your ass in that uniform the diner made all the coworkers dress in. He slants in the chair whistling as his eyes land on your legs, the thighs that touch each other, he loves seeing the way your thighs were both thick and soft looking. It reminds him of bedsheets in a way with how soft looking and clean they look. And your ass, don’t forget the way he could see it peeking out of that skirt. It was hard not to check you out. Actually it would be rude not to check you out, you look amazing. Your face card never declined in fact Mark saw you round the diner before but he never came to eat at this place he only saw you from afar. But everytime his biker gang and him rode in the street outside the diner, the boys mention you.

They speak often about you. It made him curious why they are talking so much about a young girl who’s just a simple diner girl, but now it all makes sense why they are talking. Why they’re discussing you of all people.

You were strong headed, professional, you were clearly smart enough not to fall for his lousy flirting skills he has to work on. But not only that it’s the way you were physically looking like straight out of a movie. Your body was indescribable. The way clothes made Mark frustrated on you, he never hated clothes so much before until now.

He shouldn’t be thinking these things but he was and unfortunately it was all your fault because you saw him checking you out in the corner of your eye, you knew and you saw it, it just left you smirking behind that innocent professional mask face you have on. In reality you were equally peeking interest at Mark when you saw a glimpse of his eyes stare at your ass.

But you didn’t want to show it. Of course you did not this is your workplace. You wouldn’t want someone as arrogant as Mark Lee to have the thing he wants so easily.

For once Mark looks like he actually wants something that is not eggs. He wants you.

“Excuse me waiter?”

Midway your work duties you hear the young man calling you over and you finally reach him with your impatient gaze. He loved seeing you worked up hearing him call you and somehow it made him want to sing to you. He looks up pushing the menu down. “Sunny side up.” Mark quotes proudly.

“Make the yolk in the middle right. I like it half cooked.”

‘God just make it yourself then.’ You wanted to say to him. Usually you’d be happy with suggestions, but not when a guy like Mark trouts in like he owns the freaking place.

You wanted to roll your eyes and tell him ‘Well now that wasn’t so hard was it to choose off the menu?’ But you hold your tongue tight and write it down. You gaze up at him.

“Do you want any drink with that? Toast?” You trail and Mark smirks leaning forward. “Is your number perhaps on those lists to serve?”

Your heart might escape your chest if he keeps on pestering you with his flirtatious tactics, you aren’t sure what you can and cannot handle but this beautiful man was a creature you couldn’t tame. Oh no, he was a wild one.

Your lips fell in a thin line. Your feet move forward and lean down in a ninety degree angle to grab the menu off his table with a slam to your palm. Mark’s eyes land down to your eyes, then to your beautiful pink chapped lips with a soft lipgloss glowingly and then his infatuated eyes land on the cleavage of your uniform.

His stare was so hungry. But something tells you it wasn’t for the eggs.

“One more flirtation and i will personally charge you more on your meal.” You threat.

He smiles, delusion all the way. “Was that a threat or a dare?” He couldn’t take you anymore seriously, but the way you push him back. He somehow knew you wanted him too.

You walk away scoffing. “Fuck around and find out. The more money for me.” You shrug going to the counter to prepare the food.

The sizzling from where you stand handling the heat was an impressive sight to say the least, Mark couldn’t make eggs, but he loves eating them. Despite not being able to make them it’s okay, because he never goes hungry thanks you and your diner. It was cheap and affordable for a high quality egg food you could munch on any time of the day and week. Somehow he never gets tired of it.

But what he was curious about was you. When you prepared the egg he saw you walk with his plate putting it on the table. But as you walk away and he starts to dig into the food, something underneath the plate moved and he flipped it open lifting it up. As the plate was lifting in the air a small white paper note curled up was found.

The plate was on the side and Mark slowly reveals it curiously wondering what was this, but as he did all the things he could’ve imagined were incorrect. Your handwriting struck him and it gave him a lingering hope.

The paper said your number, underneath a little message making Mark want to laugh.

‘You’re paying extra five on your order for my number :)’

He turns to look at you in front of the cashier station but you were already staring at him looking so smug. Your smile increased widely and his did too. ‘So you were interested, you just didn’t want me to know. God, you’re interesting.’ Mark practically vows. You’re unpredictable but you were something he wants to know.

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The afternoon hits you and your coworkers trade the shifts. Your work has just ended but the moment it did one of your colleagues asked to to take her night shift.

You should have said no but you did not and instead you stayed behind watching everyone leave. Your boss told you to close up and you nodded bidding goodbye to them.

Now you’re alone and it’s getting darker outside. In fact it’s already quite pitch black and the stars are coming out alive and well.

You turn to the clock seeing the customer timings going by and closing so you walk to the door to turn the customer open board around to ‘closing hours now’ but the moment you did a hand on the door makes you jump.

He saw you scream holding your mouth but the moment realistically seeing Mark outside asking you to open the door made you feel slightly uneasy but you were glad to see the boy at the same time.

‘Geez he didn’t have to appear in like that.’ You swore he’s the death of you.

You felt embarrassed for becoming so jumpy. You open the door and Mark walks in. “Did i scare you out there?” Mark chuckles and you look away murmuring.

“I thought you were someone trying to break in.” You roll your eyes. “You never know what can happen in these areas.”

Mark follows you from behind as you welcome him into the empty diner leaving only you two. “Ay you won’t have to worry about that Y/n my darling, no one will break in with me here.”

Mark couldn’t help but check down your ass again as you turn around walking from the door. His playful voice carries in the distance of the diner like a tracking star. “Did anyone tell you that the diner uniform is hot on you?”

“You make me barf, Lee.” You scowl.

“You make me wanna do bad things Y/n.” He copies you.

‘He’s so childish.’ You state in disbelief.

“Do you always come in to bother me when no one else is around?” You sigh putting the cloth away on the counter and his torso leans on the cashier counter. He saw you behind leaning down with a righteous smirk.

“You haven’t kicked me out yet I must be doing something right here.” Mark really knows how to trick your buttons.

You clench your hands huffing. “The only thing you make me wanna do is wish i haven’t seen you tonight.”

Mark whistles. “God you’re so mean.”

You glare. “If you think I’m mean wait until you hear my thoughts.” You sent through your teeth at Mark and he smirks, no matter how much arguments you guys go through they tend to always end on a different note with him smiling and you becoming grumpy.

The conversation ended only to begin when the younger boy was busy watching you do your night shift duties. You were almost glad he was here in a way, it does her creepy at night when you’re the only worker here and only one person is closing down. It can get lonely and way too quiet for your liking. Mark is the perfect guy to keep around if you need a person who doesn’t know how to shut up.

He playfully adds. “I wanted to see you because i was nearby.”

You couldn’t believe him sometimes, but a small part of you wishes it was the truth coming out his mouth. Somehow this boy you only met this morning annoyed you, but he was damnly devilishly handsome no doubt attractive and he somehow got your number too.

You look down breaking away your hold eye contact, clearing your throat as you felt a sudden butterfly coming up your lips all the way from your stomach. “Don’t lie. You came here to annoy me isn’t that right. The Mark Lee i know only does it in for himself.”

He tilts his head grabbing a hold of your hand. “Well why don’t you come and get to know the real Mark Lee, Y/n?”

You twist your head at your hands touching it made your skin crawl eloquently as so calmly like the sea. Your eyes slowly began to walk towards his face. When mark saw your attention on him again, he spoke, even though your silence was deeply inside finishing him he wanted to try.

“What’s the real Mark Lee like?”

“I think you and the real Mark Lee, would get along quite well.”

Mark’s eyes look so pure in that moment you felt your heart pull on the heartstrings and you happen to find yourself choosing to be and go.

To try to persuade you to come with him. It made you think that maybe it’s not a bad idea to get to know Mark.

“How about we go see the Golden Hour together after your night shift ends?” Mark asked you,

And to his luck you were pretty convinced. Mark’s hands were attaching to yours, like a lock to a key. It felt right being held in his hands.

“Okay, take me with you.”

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On this night the natural black hugs the stars as a diner closes ending its peace and heading to sleep but only leaving to souls to find each other awake. You couldn’t help but dangle the keys to the diner, closing the door, making sure everything was perfect before you leave with Mark. The boy was patiently waiting for you in the front of the motor bicycle; his bike was an all black with two black helmets on the side in his two palms. He was watching you in that cute little diner uniform with heart eyes but you didn’t notice. You were too busy.

When you were satisfied you turn around and saw Mark smiling you down. You raise your eyebrows suspiciously, blurting out.

“What?” Your breathe was let out, approaching the bike now. Your eyes widen when the size of it was revealed and you can’t believe you’re going to be riding this now.

Mark turns around humming. “Oh nothing. This is yours.” He puts down his helmet and holding yours going towards you. You were stunned for a minute when two pair of hands put on the helmet for you on your head.

It felt like kindness has infected his pure heart with the love that you weren’t aware of yet. Mark freaking Lee was putting the helmet, strapping it down on your head without asking him to. At this point you weren’t sure what to say but his eyes saw your throat clench in surprise and your eyes widen a little on the front. He was up close with your heads nearing each other like cannon rounds because he wanted to strap the ends under the chin.

You murmur. “I could’ve done it myself you know…” mark looks up at you directly. “I know, I just wanted to do it for you.” He smiled and you saw him pull away like it was nothing.

He was the ace at everything. Mark lee had everything he could ever want but what he didn’t want before changed the minute he’s met you and now you’re everything he wants, needs and could possibly ask for for. You were someone he could speak to all day and feel as if you weren’t judging him you were listening instead on repeat. You don’t even have to talk because he could do the talking; instead you Will be listening to him with those beautiful robes your eyes provide and he will be happy. He wishes to see you smile again, and he’s going through changes he never expected from your presence. Such as helping you put the helmet on.

You approach the bike getting on. The helmet he has on covers most of his face but his voice was still the sameness kindness that attacks your hard solid heart you guard your heart with.

Mark looks down at his waist where he needed to see your hands and your hands were clinging on the leather jacket. Your hands were tempted to hold him there but your thoughts intervened making you pause and in panic you couldn’t bring yourself to hold him there.

“Hold me tight Y/n.” He says.

You were shy. “W…where? I am holding you tight.”

He chuckles a little bit wasn’t expecting it that your fingertips touching was considered ‘holding tight’ but nonetheless he pulled your wrists from behind suddenly and making you lean your chest on his back enough so your arms were wrapped on his waist like two red ribbons making a single knot together.

“No wrap it like this Y/n. Okay?” He softly spoke out and you couldn’t even comprehend the words were made with intention to have you safe.

You wondered if it just you or if it’s many people who see this side of him where Mark doesn’t have to keep an image around like a toy with a job constantly. Where he could just be Mark Lee. You wonder thinking perhaps not, because a guy like Mark Lee was trying to keep up to his reputation but around you it was getting no where near to impossible.

Your chin rests on his shoulders and the engine roars like a wild animal awakening. It terrified you but normally you would never get on this thing in your life, but now you’re not normal. You’re hanging out with Mark the guy who walked into your diner in the morning, made you annoyed but you found relatively attractive, ended up successfully getting your number and on a good note he waited for your night shift to take you somewhere else.

The man rumbled in the iron horse between his legs, and the miles sped away beneath its black wheels. He grinned despite himself through the shiny all jet black helmet as the wind whipped about it, and gave an unconscious squeeze to the lever on the great y-shaped rudder, coaxing yet more power from the magnificent machine. Ahead, in the distance, she spied the spires of the road, leaving the diner. Give him nothing but a straight up motorbike ride down the road right down to the sea, with a beautiful girl like you on it holding him tight because he could sense how terrifying it must be until the sight of the ocean hits your eyes you start to see the beauty of riding a rising bike everywhere, and he would ask for nothing more in this life or the next.

You see it was scary at first. Doing something completely new but you found yourself falling in love with how the nightfall beach looks like as the young man driving the bike slowly because he wanted to have you see it for longer. Or the beautiful breeze hitting your legs exposed and vast bits of your neck because your long hair was exposed to the wind flowing it back like a flag of a nation you’d be proud of. You felt surreal and it started to show that perhaps the driver riding you wasn’t a bad person but made up by your poor misjudgement instead. Your pride rather and he was simply an okay guy — actually not even an okay guy. He was just a straight up sweet guy underneath those needless reputation and hard tough persona. It made you conflicted at first before but now you’re convinced. That you might believe Mark’s got a side you haven’t met yet.

But that’s the story to living your life. You have to explore a new thing to be able to know if you like it or not and I guess it applies to Mark and You. You squeeze your arms round his waist and suddenly rest your head on his back as you listen to the quiet earth where everyone was asleep but you and Mark — listening to the wind that the wind blows from the front and you swore you could sleep to this tranquil silence and feeling.

He seethes out a smile feeling the arms tighten and he was happening to feeling a sense of proudness in him as he could make you enjoy this. From a severe anxious young waitress to a young woman enjoying the experience he couldn’t of been more happier than this. Than live in the moment with you.

He never lets anyone ride the motorcycle with him and you were the first woman and person itself to be able to go on. Even though he denies everyone he lets and offered you to go on. Even the previous woman he shown slight attention to in the past never had the chance because he flat out rejected the idea of anyone being on this thing. It was a precious item he holds dear to his heart and something within him accepted you to get on.

Treading to the secret location you’ve been waiting to know about you pull up to a mountain cliff sight area where the bike stops on the shoreline of the mountain. Not off the edge but close enough leaving you and Mark on the bike sitting at around five am. Mark lee was one of a kind man and when you tell yourself the view didn’t leave you gaping it left you gasping instead.

It was beyond anything you’ve ever seen. It was a whole different view of the city and you could see everything all at once. The glimpse of the beach was there in sight, the diner was somewhere around there, you could see the apartment blocks nearby which is where you live too. You were so far but everything you love dear to your heart was close in your eyes. All at once too. Mark truly knew this place would be the perfect fit for your bonding experience, or rather he would claim it as a date doing nothing but chatting with you.

Your helmets were off and he saw your moving gaze lovingly watching the beautiful scene. He smiles your arms never left his waist until you unlock them to get up and takes a closer look.

“Mark… when did you find this place. It’s beautiful. It’s anything I’ve ever wanted to see before.” Your voice itself was hyperbolic and hypnotising. You look thrilled and it was benevolently beautiful loudly.

He follows you standing on the edge of his bike and wrapping the helmets on the sides of the wheel where they hang. “Once I was driving one night and I happen to see this. I often come here when i can’t sleep so i go for a ride and come here.”

You turn around with crystal like eyes, they looked like pure gemstones with how shiny they are and even in the pure darkness they glow.

“Thank you. It’s very sweet of you to share this view with me.” You sigh out and let your arms roam the free air twirling around.

Mark grins out. “Any time. You’re the first person ever I’ve shown this too. So keep this a secret between us.” He told you. “I’d like it to be only you who knows of this place with me.”

The moment he said this your cheeks grew a little red and turning round to meet eyes with his personally grew stronger. There was a define element of possession here and you couldn’t help but let out a strain laugh hearing him.

You come forward slowly. “How come you’re so… nice to me? I mean how can i ever repay you for this. We only just met but you’re quite an enigma. You keep surprising me with your new sides.” Your voice trails softly easing your thoughts when his hands wrapped round your waist pulling you closer and seemingly you didn’t back or make any complaint you just stayed and following his strong hands where they push you in on his body closing your large gap that was punishing him by making you so far away.

His deep voice I’ve craved to answer me had a way of igniting my internal engine, just like he would light up a motorbike as if it knew I wanted to ride with him before I had a chance to process. “I don’t know I guess i… like you enough to say that I’d be raw and real with you.” He sounds husky and hoarse looking down with a dark half eye lid gaze. You couldn’t help but feel that maybe the tension between you was a sign call for help.

“How many have you been raw and real with like this?”

“None.” He quickly said. “Just you.” He told you softly It was the kind of deep voice that is so very easy to fall in love with, it was like a perfect harmony between cooking you have.

“You’re someone who’s… a first to my everything. My bike is off limits for everyone except me but here we are. You were sitting on my bike so nicely with that…” your ass was squeezed surprisingly you by that gentle yet hidden pleasing laying grope on your back.

Your face grew red but he knew that. It’s exactly why he did it and smirking down at you, you felt yourself feeling small and cautiously exposed but in a way you found butterflies in it.

He needed you just as bad and now you’re here needing him. He was real with you and that’s what made you shudder when you feel your heart escape your chest so much. All because of him and everything he does was a terror of attractiveness. He was breathing and you found his breathe even more beautiful. He was just there standing and breathing looking you up and down with an intense stare.

And you’re here trying to figure out what and how was this man created into existence. He felt like something you knew for years and years in your head and at the same time something you’ve never known in your life for years and years until now.

“Are you always this…” you stop talking and stare down at his lips. “Never mind… kiss me please… I’m going insane.” You held your teeth together for a minute until he was glad to hear you consent because God knew, he couldn’t stop you from kissing once he began tasting your lips.

It was a very easy decision to make when Mark saw the offer you made him, your lips crash on top of each other like a gentle road on a wheel. It was a smooth transition. It felt heavenly however. You couldn’t compare any feeling of Mark’s lips the way they made you feel so complete in many ways, it was a sensual passionate makeout between them leaving the air round them to be sucked in faster. Your breathes were doing magic together, compiling as one source keeping your fast bodies going somewhere.

The makeout was a speedy and intense success knowing your chest was thumping probably so freaking hard but you weren’t focusing on that. You were focusing on the way his tongue intrudes in your territory so freely and with ease across your tongue wrapping round it keeping you guessing what’s happening next. Your bodies swung around switching positions with Mark no longer slanting on his bike and you now pressed against the machine. Your back resting on the bike leaving you climbing on it where your hands were wrapping up and down his clothes chest and the neckline.

Your hair was pushed back because his hands were crawling down your legs caressing them and softly rubbing the softness of your thighs in that skirt that’s been driving him mad the entire day.

He couldn’t wait to just strip it fucking off your body you had no idea how much he’s been imagining it to the point his imagination couldn’t save him from holding back anymore. You were equally eager it seems though when your tips pinch the belt on his jeans he found himself growing exciting in the shares of your kiss.

His voice pulls you away and your mouth crawls to his jawline and on the sides, you lick down his Adam’s apple. “A bit impatient are we? You’re looking at me with so much impatience.” He felt so many shivers with your teeth grazing his skin so much it drove him right off the edge.

You bring your swollen red lips apart. He swore he saw fire in those awoken eyes of yours. You pull him on the bike and you swap positions once more where you suddenly go on your knees pulling down the trousers.

“You can’t blame me being impatient when you’re looking at me like that…” your words slant themselves and he chuckles deeply hearing this. When his pants fell down your eyes gawk at the sight of his rock hard member in the front your hands couldn’t hold back, you touch it instantly and he vows down at you going. “I’ve been here impatient a little longer than you darling. Why don’t you be a good girl and help me out and i promise — you will get a good reward.”

You couldn’t argue with that. Your saliva spits down on his erected cock and he could just twitch by the warmth of your shared saliva from your intense makeout a minute ago. His head swung back when you first take him in very softly by doing small kitten licks and eventually engulf him into a welcoming home of your inner mouth where your scorching tongue felt like million pieces burning. Somehow that burn became something enticing and thrilling though because even though it was so intense it became more intense that you get addicted. And that’s exactly what Mark went through.

Your mouth was an extraordinary thing and It certainly wasn’t the only thing it was good at. He watches you with a dark lingering gaze that could be darker than the night sky above you both. You fell in love with how he watches you, intensely with his eye locks on you sucking him in so deeply. Making sure every length and part of him was in your mouth. Your deep throating gave him enough time to clench the bike a few times and once even made him groan out a little louder than a few hisses there and then.

“That’s my girl. You’re doing such a good job.” His hands grazed your hair sweeping it up and gently holding it into a ponytail in his hands between the diamond rings that blight you. You felt your stomach turn hearing this and pull apart your lips to make a pop and only to go and suck him in again which leaves him expediting a whole new feeling in the world. You were throating him so hard, it could bruise your mouth but you could not care.

You wanted it to leave a mark. You wanted this to remind you of this experience that you’re doing in the wide open slot.

Mark grunts. “Shitshitshit, careful. I don’t want to cum just yet.” He said pulling your head apart from his cock that was twitching and begging to have a release of its own but Mark had other plans for you and him. As your head was thrown back with a rug to your hair in that ponytail he scraped the remaining drool around your mouth with his thumb.

You swore you could’ve melted on your knees if you weren’t on them already because it was unbelievably sexy watching a man like Mark touch your swollen and reddish lips all from sucking him near to dry and kissing him like it was the end of the world looking you down and gently wiping it clean, with his thumb. You could lose your mind. This man was effortlessly attractive. He was like a whole package to uncover.

Suddenly a pair of fingers have been crossed in your mouth and you didn’t fight back at it as Mark leers down at you. “Suck on them darling.” And you did just as he told you to sucking his fingers until he pulled it away from your lips coating them with your thick and warm saliva.

Your positions switch again this time you’re on the bike again forced to be seated on it with your legs wide open and spread ready for Mark who was leaving you impatient. The skirt was lifted up leaving your white panties exposed and he looks up at you, smirking. You could feel a slight warmth on your face growing again and not only that, once his fingers press on your clit through the panties lining all he could see was a soaking mess.

He was amazed, by this huge effort he has on you. “Y/n I wasn’t aware you’d be this wet i haven’t even touched you yet. ” He leans closer and you turn away avoiding his gaze as you stutter out. “I- can we…get to the fun part.” You mention and he lets out a smile leering it back at you. “Oh trust me love it’s coming.”

You weren’t a fan of his teasing but you couldn’t help but feel mesmerised when he slid down your panties to the side and an accidental touch on his metallic diamond rings makes you twist and turn your head back in a pleasuring awe. At first Mark thought it might’ve been his fingers but when he realised it was his rings he couldn’t smirk at the thought he had. The fingers coating by your saliva pushing deep in your waterfall of a cunt only to have the big diamond rings digging in too much. You choke out your words, but he wanted you to shout to the rest of your lungs till you couldn’t speak anymore tomorrow for your next shift.

Worst thing was that you’ve been imagining this all day since the morning you’ve met Mark. You were creating scenarios with his hands all along and which is why you’re so wet. It was sexual frustration but at the same time, you felt rewarded by this. Mark knew all along you wanted him just as much as he wanted you but of course you tried to hide it by being professional — now answer this where did all the professionalism go? He wanted to laugh but he wanted to see you lose yourself before he does.

Your eyes were obsessed by watching his hands go so deep into your hole that you wanted to see how much you will come. You were pressing at your deep end soon, you could sense a few strings in your stomach boiling for a release you were so close.

Mark mockingly adds. “This is what you wanted all along isn’t it? I saw the way you were checking my hands in the morning. You wanted them to do stuff like this to you.” He looks at your exposed cunt in the public domain with wind cushing at you and you weakly murmur your groans. “Maybe you wanted my fingers to do this?” His thumb pressed down on your clit moving it in circular motion. While his other fingers were occupied by your insides pulling it inside more and more.

The overstimulation did you great because the next minute Mark was welcoming a wave of gushing liquid running down your thighs and into his lap where you shockingly gasp out your high moans on your releasing resort. He was so proud of himself and of you for taking everything he gave you but that didn’t stop him from suddenly roughly slamming you down into the seat more and slinging his erected tip and length to your entrance, you weren’t given enough time but when he kissed you to lead you into him and to focus on to him and not your large orgasm; you couldn’t help but feel calmer and allow the burning stretch of his big girth cock entering you. Your body clench tightly but he massaged down your waist and hips when he feels the urge to your body to clutch.

“That’s right baby taking me so well. Now turn around and press your stomach flat on the bike.” You couldn’t help but turn around and you felt him go even more than before deep working you from head to toe making you squelch with how wet and lubricant everything you had. Mark was insane for just making you press hard on your back so your stomach was flatly on the metallic machine and leaving you on your arms supporting by your elbows.

He wants you to see the view as you’re getting your brains fucked out hopefully you’ll remember everything. He has no doubts you will because the minute the Golden Hour appears, your brain will be taking a photogenic picture in your memory engraved as you’re floating naked on his bike getting your shit wrecked by him. The first ram made you curse strings you weren’t expecting it to make you shake on the first try and go it’s as if he was exceedingly amazing to rock you back and forth in the middling position. Your body clenching underneath him letting your ass jiggle back and forth between the bodies. His weight was heavy on yours and he kept on ramming until he was satisfied with it.

The speed wasn’t slow at all. It was fast and hard. You weren’t sure what’s happening at one point you were lost in all the pleasure you lost your sense of time and presence as well as your self identity. You were going places with Mark Lee rucking against you so good his length tip touched the peek of your g spot making you come more than once, this man behind you fucking you made you come so many times it left you dripping out for everyone to see.

“If only you could take a look at you. You’re dripping on the grass and down my bike.” He roughly slits between his teeth, speaking in broken sentences.

You couldn’t help but grow embarrassed. But Mark loved it seeing you become so actively engaged in with him and his pleasure giving you whiplashes.

You’re in the public sector where people can come and go but since it’s this late you weren’t worrying but the thought of someone walking by at this time walking on you two made this everything ten times more arousing and thrilling for the both of you. You both enjoy being seen like this fucking like animals until you were stuffed and full of him and until you only can think about him, he won’t stop.

Mark bellows at you every time, he said all sorts of things but nothing crazier than him losing his mind to you. “I bet you want people to walk around us and see your dripping wet cunt getting stuffed with my fat cock. I bet you want them to see how much you’re soaking bending over my bike and getting slut out in the open shamelessly like this.”

His fingers tug on your hair lifting you up when the time has come suddenly swing your head upwards enough to leave you choking out your moans. “Now look up at this, beautiful. It’s the Golden Hour.” And your eyes widen seeing the magnificent skies.

The Golden Hour leads you like a tunnel into a whole new haven offering where the sunlight was waking up and so were the people around from the slumber. Your eyes welcome the Golden Hour, that iris of fire so pretty in its devotional image reminding you of the ocean waves but instead they were bright orange, mixing in with the beautiful ember red and the bright yellow equalling to the sun. It left you stunned for a minute and Mark saw your beautiful expression smiling at it. ‘It’s beautiful’ you thought.

He kissed your shoulders momentarily bringing you back and he thrusts deep within inside you again and again until your legs were physically turning into snapping bridges where no one could cross over again.

You cross out holding your mouth when voices in the distance has you questioning the whole presence you weren’t sure why people were waking up this early, but you’d effectively heard a man and a dog barking in the distance. Your moans were hidden into your mouth and Mark whispering chuckling at your attempt to hide them out.

But as much as you tried to hide and conceal your moans you could not thanks to Mark roughly punishing you with his cock growing deep in you. “Awh what’s this hiding your perfect noises you’re making? Darling let them see you so they know how perfect you are.” He gnaws at your brain leaving you helpless and you achingly whimper out.

He spanks your ass once more roughly and gropes it. He could never get tired of your ass for once more. “I’m going to come now.” His teeth clatter as he spoke out final words before grunting releasing bits of his come inside you but pulling out and covering your ass a little too. You ooze out and he couldn’t help but want to replay this image of you stuffed and oozing out him out of you was the hottest thing he could have witnessed.

You try to lift yourself up only to nearly fall backwards fixing your skirt but a figure behind you caught you and you make eye contact with him once more. Mark smirks down at you watching how your legs were shaking and he held your skirt get pulled down and your panties back up.

You couldn’t help but feel hopeless once more, murmuring. “I could’ve done it.” You say softly and he looks at you with eyes that resemble boba pearls.

“I know.” He leans down capturing your kiss softly, putting the belt around his trousers meanwhile he was lost on the feeling of you on his lips. “But I wanted to do it for you.”

“But i…”

He pulls away holding your face with his hands pulling you to face him when you were about to look away and disagree with him doing things for you. “No buts. How about we take a ride and see more of the Golden Hour and then…”

“And then?” Your eyes rose up waiting to hear an answer but Mark smirks shrugging. “And then you can stay over at my place and rest, how does that sound?”

You chuckle. “Okay sounds good to me, Mark.”

You feel yourself becoming part of him. This golden hour will forever hold a special place in your heart.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

@onyourhyuck please refer from translating and copyrighting my work thank youu! Please reblog and follow me for more updates it helps a girl out <3

[so-much-for-the-seashells]

Being Sick but Dean Winchester’s your BF Headcanons ✨

✨ Dean Winchester x Reader ✨

Minors! Go away! Don’t interact! I don’t have a witty joke but I still don’t want you here! ¡Adios!

A/N: okay now that they’re gone… I’m sick! Some sort of nasty cold shit. Also I have the fucking la la land piano riff stuck in my head. So, more headcanons!!! (As opposed to a “proper” fic. For Dean ofc. It’s okay, it’ll come eventually)

Icons by me, all notes-especially commentary- are extremely appreciated!!

Content Warnings: if you’ve read the others it’s along the same vein, cute but still spicy enough to warrant that 18+ rating. Reader’s GN but AFAB.

Enjoy!

( ˘ ³˘)��︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

-okay so first of all, being sick sucks. Whether it’s a runny nose, a headache, throat pain (get your mind out of the gutter), stomach aches, whatever- it fucking sucks.

-but it sucks a little less when you have Dean Winchester taking care of you

-this man knows how to take care of any common virus or cold. Years of taking care of his little brother meant that he could never be sick and that if he was it had to go fast, because he believed he always needed to be able to take care of Sammy first and foremost.

-once he sees you sniffling he’ll bench you from whatever job you guys are working. Immediately. No ifs, ors, ands, buts or coconuts about it.

-once the job is over he’ll come home. If you’re up and moving he’ll sling you over his shoulder or pick you up bridal style, and throw you (in a loving way) down on the couch or bed, depending on where you want to lay.

-he’ll snuggle you a little, and then take a quick shower so as not to get whatever it is you have. He’ll give you whatever blankets and drinks you want, and then head off to the kitchen

-his go-to is to make a vat of chicken noodle soup, extra lemony for vitamin c. He’ll usually either add some chilis to the soup or put some in a salad for you to help clean your system out. And it will always be better than fine dining.

-of course he cooks shirtless, and he’ll come back into the room with a big bowl of soup and your salad ready, cookies still in the oven. He’ll be wearing sweatpants and a ‘kiss the cook’ apron with nothing under it. And if you weren’t sick, you’d definitely do what the apron asked.

-he’ll help you sit up so you can eat it, putting a pillow on your lap so that the bowl doesn’t burn you and wiping your hair out of your face. If your hot he brings a bandana that he dunked in ice water and ties it around your head, if your cold he brings more blankets

-he hates that he can’t touch you or hug you when your miserable like this, but he does his best.

-while you’re eating he’ll talk about the hunt, keeping it as light and funny as possible- probably whatever he and Sam bickered about, the sights he saw, the food, etc

-and he’ll put on whatever you’d like him to. Preferably Gilmore Girls, but he ain’t gonna influence you

-when you’re done he’ll take the empty bowls to the kitchen, leaving them in the sink for Sammy to do them when he gets back to the bunker.

-he’ll grab the cookies, and bring a little plate of them over, and then sit on the sofa in the Dean cave so that your calves are draped over his thighs. If you’re in bed he’ll just lay on the opposite side, occasionally stroking your back comfortingly

-he checks your temperature from time to time, and always adapts according to your sickness. If it’s stomach bug he’s got a trash can beside the bed/couch and is ready to hold your hair. If it’s strep throat he’s gone honey. If it’s literally anything he’s probably got some kind of temporary remedy

-now (you know what time it is 🌶️)

-if you get a little hot n bothered while your sick

-and no I don’t mean hot from the fever

-but like the other kind

-and he can tell

-well, there’s a home remedy for that too 😏

-and you’ll warn him against it, not wanting to get him sick, but he’ll shush you, kissing your belly and pulling your sleep shorts and underwear down in one go

-he’ll kiss all up your legs, making you wish so, so much that you could make out with him

-but he won’t tease. Not when his sweetheart isn’t feeling well.

-so he’ll get as close to your dripping heat as he can, not making you move at all, because he knows you’re comfy on your little bed of pillows and his blankets

-and then he’ll nudge his nose against your clit, the only teasing he’ll do before diving in

-he’s gentle though. Not dissimilar to how he is in the mornings (Shameless plug, sorry not sorry haha)

-he’ll go nice and slow, adding his fingers as he goes, one at a time

-he uses one to gather your wetness and spread it over your poor bud

-and then adds another to scissor into your heat, massaging your spongey walls

-and by the third finger slowly yet deliberately filling you up, along with his mouth on your clit, he’ll have you coming, feeling so much better in one regard

-he’ll lap it all up, careful not to overstimulate you before pressing a sweet kiss to your belly, just as he did before he went down

-he’ll then get up and draw you a bath, helping you pee and then get into the tub

-he’ll dry your hair and then help you into a fresher set of pjs, and lay with you until you fall asleep, then turn off the tv and any lights before getting back in bed.

-and even though he has to sleep a little away from you he can’t help but hold you hand while you sleep, even if it means risking getting sick too

-and if you wake up in the middle of the night, he will too, ready to do whatever you need him to

-he loves you, and it’s he loves knowing that you love him too and would also take care of him if he were in your shoes

-so yeah

-sweet cutie pie caretaker ass with the greener-than-pines eyes gah

-I rest my case

If you have any ideas for headcanons and/or fics my ask box is always open!!

Xx!

[zablife]

Being Johnny's Girl Would Include

Johnny Davis Masterlist

Warnings: slightly nsfw, but mostly my self indulgent ramblings

♡ Sitting on his lap at Vandals' meetings so you know you're just as important to him as the club.

♡ Watching him sneer at the sight of other men drooling over you, a possessive hand coming to rest over your thigh.

♡ Being draped in his enormous leather jacket that smells of motor oil and aftershave bc he can't stand to see you shiver. Does he also do it to let others know you're his? Prob

♡ Hearing the thunderous roar of his laughter over the engine when you nibble his earlobe during a ride.

♡ Straining to listen for the hitch in his breath when you suggest he fog the windows at the drive-in movies.

♡ The way your heart claws at your throat whenever you watch him race, hiding your face in your hands. Though it's nothing compared to finding the brass knuckles in his glove box, knowing his tough exterior isn't just a facade. His life is dangerous.

♡ That's prob why he appreciates the softness in you. He calls you his "babydoll" bc he swears you look like one in those cute little dresses you're always wearing.

♡ He'll insist on buying you a new one any time your clothes get ruined with the inevitable smear of grease or blood. (Since Benny came around, he's getting into more fights and he's wracked with guilt that he's corrupting you.)

♡ He tries to make it up to you with a stable home life, a nice house and scores of pretty things. You'll insist you don't need anything other than him, but he can't resist indulging that sparkle in your eye when you pass the shop windows downtown.

♡ "Give me a twirl, babydoll," he'll beg when you race down the stairs to show him a new dress, but he really just wants to see the flash of your panties.

♡ He takes you everywhere with him, even when the guys are working on their bikes. Making him beam with pride that you know the use of every tool in the garage. "Ain't my baby somethin'?"

♡ Stealing the bandana he keeps in his back pocket to tie up your hair.

♡ He'll call you every night he's on the road for work, even when he's exhausted and falling asleep over the phone. "Can't sleep a wink until I hear you're alright, you know that."

♡ He's warned you more than once that you'll likely have to go on without him one day, but it breaks your heart too much to think about it.

♡ So when he's home, you're cuddled together as close as humanly possible, practically on top of him. You're only closer when you've just made love and he falls asleep still inside you, stroking your back with soothing words of reassurance, "S okay, I'm here."

[leggerefiore]

Villainous Team Boss's S/o Sneaking a Team Uniform and Wearing It For Them

(being a grunt uniform, the boss's uniform, and their own admin uniform. thanks to @whoisthatcreepoverthere for the original idea!)

cw: fluff,

characters: Maxie, Archie, Lysandre, Guzma, Giovanni, Cyrus

☀️Maxie🌋

🪨 Sneaking one of Team Magma's grunt uniforms is harder than one might expect. Maxie prefers everything to be quite organised, so it would be rare that they have extra uniforms around or that a grunt would misplace theirs. However, as Maxie's partner, you had an advantage somehow in sneaking one. The Magma Leader looks up from his laptop on his desk, ready to scold the grunt who just walked into his quarters without scheduling a meeting beforehand or even buzzing themselves in. He then feels bewildered as to why you were wearing that. Did you join Team Magma? Why had Tabitha and Courtney not alerted him? Why did you not tell him yourself? He then realises you managed to sneak one of the few spare uniforms they had around when you started laughing.

🪨 Maxie feels embarrassed for getting so worked up over what was essentially a prank on him. You are asked to please return the uniform, as they need to keep track of their inventory and whatever else. Before you go off to do it, however, he does admire how nice his team's colours look on you… The maroon compliments you nicely, and the knitted fabric looked strangely… cute on you. He has to snap himself out of it because he feels less like he is ogling his lover and more like he is staring at one of his grunts.

🪨 If you manage to steal his somehow, he will be mildly annoyed. He likely only has three – a spare at home, a spare at the hideout, and the one he usually wears. He cycles through them as needed. Today was an “as needed,” and he had headed home quickly to grab the spare since it was closer than the hideout. He could only stare blankly at you, imitating his poses in front of a mirror in his uniform. There was only an ask for you to please return his clothing. He feels more embarrassed than anything about this – especially if his uniform fits you well.

🪨 Maxie would prefer his partner to join Team Magma, actually. So, in his ideal situation, you would have your own Magma Admin uniform. Naturally, he would have to approve any uniform you would design… Though, whether it be cosplay or an actual uniform, he would feel strangely flustered at seeing how it complimented you. Perfectly attuned to whatever you wanted it to focus on, so long as it kept to the red and knit style of Team Magma. Whether you go for shorts or a knitted dress, he appreciates the aesthetics dearly. He is notably more flustered if it was a cosplay, though, since he wishes you were a member of his team so dearly. Maybe now is a time to convince you…

🌧Archie🌊

💧 Getting an Aqua grunt uniform is too easy, honestly. Distressingly easy. Archie's filtering is mostly done by asking random aquatic facts and whether or not you support water pollution. Granted, not everyone did get approved since Shelly proved herself to almost be the brains of the entire operation. No one really questioned why Archie's partner was grabbing one, either. You just took it, put it on, and no one thought anything of it. Even Archie barely thought on it when you entered his quartets, busy tapping away and speaking with Matt and Shelly about who knows what. He popped a look over at you, about to tell what he thought was a grunt to come back later, before gasping.

💧 Archie instead gave a hearty laugh and a thumbs up before continuing his conversation. The Aqua Leader has no complaints or comments. You want to wear a uniform? Well, he trusts your interests align enough with his own that it will not cause any issues for him or his team. Besides, you look cute in the bandana and stripes. He almost wishes to ask you to wear it more, if anything. You look good no matter what, though.

💧 You likely have to sneak his uniform after he changes into something else (rare), so it is difficult to get the chance. Though, when you do, he finds out pretty quick since he probably wants it back. The sight of you in his wetsuit – whether it be horribly ill-fitting or surprisingly worn well – makes him grin. Though, he likely loses his mind a little if it is too big for you and scoops you up to laugh some more. If it fits, he is impressed by your form, however. He approves again, but he really needs it back.

💧 Like his dear red-headed companion, he would adore for his partner to be in Aqua with him, and it would only make sense for them to be an admin. Even if you are not, you are essentially an unofficial member with how you can come and go throughout the Aqua hideout with ease without question. So, he has given some thought to what you would wear as an admin. Granted, it would just be a themed wetsuit, but he loves the thought. So you were making it a reality? He is overjoyed and cheers on the cosplay while assuming this is your subtle way of asking him to join his team. Get ready for endless compliments and praises.

🔥Lysandre🍷

☕️ Getting your hands on a Flare uniform… Now, that was a difficult thing to do. No one was really eager to give up their 5,000,000 dollar uniform to just anyone. Well, except, maybe their boss's lovely partner, who seemed just so curious as to what one would fit like. Needless to say, you managed to get one of the bright red suits for your own. Wearing it, you almost wanted to say the price tag felt reasonable. Until you remembered why Lysandre even made his group in first place. Encountering Lysandre in the outfit had been difficult, as the average grunt was not at all allowed in his office. His café, however, served as a well enough hub.

☕️ Lysandre barely registered it at first, having been more focused on his many projects and getting a cup of coffee than any lonesome grunt. Something about you made him double-take, though. Upon a second glance, he registered your face almost instantly. The Flare Boss struggled to comprehend why you were in a Flare grunt uniform. There was absolutely no way you joined without him knowing. He then is pleasantly surprised by how well you pull off the suit. The bright red compliments you well and seems to bring out an elegant, almost handsome side that deeply respects. That almost makes him forget to question how you got a suit of your own. You do get interrogated, however.

☕️ He is mildly entertained by the sight of you in one of his suits. Naturally, it was not his only one he owned, but he found your attempt to wear some of his clothing rather adorable. Unless you are somehow both his height or build, the suit fits you improperly. Lysandre does debate having you made an outfit like his own since the thought of you in something properly fitting like his uniform almost seemed to suit you well. You are, however, his beloved lover and will be at his side of the helm in his beautiful world. The least bothered by it outside of Archie.

☕️ As for an admin uniform, assuming you go for the generic admin uniforms rather than one of the scientists, he finds himself intrigued by how long it took you to acquire the items to imitate it. He is an active purveyor of fashion, after all. There is also a minor concern about leaking among his group, but he just assumes you found out due to your connection with him. He enjoys the way it looks on you, truly, but he feels there is a certain lure that is missing and almost wants to design you one of your own. Perhaps… It was time he finally started involving you more actively in Team Flare. You opened a door that you can not close with this one.

🕶Guzma💀

□ Getting a Team Skull grunt uniform is easy. They are almost all DIY anyway, and the ones stashed out in the Po Pokemon Center are already selling some in there. You buying one barely raises any eyebrows, too. Boss's partner wants a uniform? Whatever, fine. Even when you pop into Guzma's room, he barely questions what you are doing. It does not even register with him at first until you try to sit on his lap. Then, he is suddenly aware that you have changed clothes.

□ He honestly feels a bit smug, seeing you in the uniform. The Team Skull cap and necklace look nice on you, and he barely cares to question where you got it. They have spares all around, and, once again, most are DIY made. He gets a chuckle out of it and just decides to roll with it. You were already an unofficial member. Why not let you wear a uniform? Besides, seeing you as an “underling” let his mind drift in some fun directions that it would not go for any other grunt.

□ Now, you stealing his uniform is less fun. Especially when he enters to see you sitting on his throne with his sunglasses over your eyes. He does not even want to know how you sneaked his watch without him noticing. He starts off with a laugh, expecting it to be over quickly, but you instead do a bad imitation of him. Guzma is now feeling annoyed about this. You get away with it until a grunt walks into the room and does not even realise that you have replaced Guzma at first. He is destroyed internally.

□ Team Skull's admin outfits… are not really a thing. It really is just your own flair to the general scheme they use, with a Skull necklace and black and white clothing being the only requirement. Or maybe you can match with Plumeria if you want. Either way, your wearing it intrigues Guzma. You are not an official member, no, but you do have some authority around Po town. He likes it a lot. There is almost an urge to ask you to join completely, but he gets you have your reasons. For now, he will enjoy your styling completely.

🚀Giovanni🐈

🟥 Getting a Rocket grunt uniform…. is likely easier than Giovanni would want it to be. They have spares in their hideouts, so sneaking one is not so hard. What proved a challenge was how unknown you are among the grunts and trying to navigate the den to even get a glance at your busy lovers. Too many questions and demands, or getting an order barked at you by some random higher-up. You felt like you were never going to get to Giovanni. Even trying to enter his office got you some looks from his guards, but they seemed to quickly recognise you. A questioning look was given, but the doors were unlocked.

🟥 Giovanni barely knew what to think at some random grunt, interrupting his busy schedule for an impromptu meeting, but before he could put the fear of whatever deity they believed into them, he felt suspicious Sure, he registered just the uniform at first, but when his eyes glanced at your face, he let out a sigh. Just what were you doing? He decided against questioning it and instead took a second glance at you. You really fit perfectly into the black clothing, and he would admit the bright red “R” almost felt like a claim on you. Suddenly, he will let this slide. His mind has gone elsewhere.

🟥 He barely responds to you wearing one of his suits. Yes, haha, very funny or interesting. You are even trying to get his sinister grin down but are not quite there. Giovanni claps but is mostly unimpressed. He instead recalls a time his son did something similar, and you get the feeling that he is calling your actions childish. He once again does find himself quite smug about the “R” logo, though it is quite a bit smaller on his own attire.

🟥 In a hand-crafted admin uniform, he finds himself more impressed with your talents in arranging such a look rather than you dressing up like a knock-off member. You even chose the correct styling uniforms his elite executives wore. Were you wanting a position in his organisation? He certainly hoped not because you were not getting one. Work and romance were entirely divided things for him. Though, you have given him an idea as you turned to show off the uniform. Maybe he should order you around like he did his underlings and give you a taste of the “boss” side of him.

🌌Cyrus🛰

☄️ It probably would not be that hard for them to get a grunt uniform since they most likely do have a bulk around HQ. Just go in, grab one, put it on, and give Cyrus a heart attack when you pop into his office. Saturn would not approve you as hire, he knows for sure. He wants to know where you got that and also to take it off right now because he does not like the idea of him viewing you like one of his grunts.

☄️ The Galactic Leader does hate how it makes his thoughts swirl, though. You do not look bad in it — no, not at all. It appeals entirely to his tastes. He feels so bothered by this. The last thing he wanted was for you to figure out his group's real intentions since he knows even those among his most trusted seemed to struggle with it. You truly do look good in the grey uniform. If he was not so restrained – no, if he did not lack spirit, he would allow his mind to wander more.

☄️ As for getting his, well, if the cat is already out of the bag, he is probably leaving a uniform at home to change into instead of having to wear a suit out instead. Sneak it out and discover how ill-fitting it is on you (or maybe well fitting it is if you match his height and body type). Cyrus is mildly disappointed and confused as to why you are wearing his uniform. You are not trying to join Team Galactic and usurp him, are you? He asks you to take it off again.

☄️ If you style your own commander costume, he presumably walks into your shared home to see you in it. He blinks a few times in confusion. That is certainly not one of the uniforms commissioned by him or a commander. It resembles the general theme well, but he is distressed by how you got that and why you are wearing it. Are you… pledging your support to his new world? He feels like he is left reeling by all this… You just get to watch Cyrus.exe crash before your eyes as he fails to process all this. In the end, you will be asked where you got the outfit and the explanation of wanting to try out a uniform in the style of his team leaves him bewildered and a little disappointed since he had hoped he could have your support.