#i didn't know and messed up the system i had

[shadesoflsk]

DRUNK WORDS ARE SOBER THOUGHTS

pairing: arthur morgan x fem reader

summary: arthur didn't believe he was worthy at all. however, you made it your duty to turn harsh words into self love.

warnings: reader is drunk, mentions of death, a bit suggestive at the end.

word count: 1.7k

Arthur was a man of few words. Blunt and straightforward statements were his way to go. He was well-spoken, don't get it wrong. But it seemed that his knowledge in words shone the brightest when a plethora of adjectives slipped from his lips at the sight of him in the mirror.

Staring back at him, was a madman. A garbage at most. Dull, horrible, and not worthy of a penny even though a bounty was placed on him.

However, life worked in mysterious ways when someone appeared in his life. He was no longer a cloud on a sunny day but a star in a clear sky. His eyes, at least for now, had a glint that has been lost ever since…—he doesn't know when or which was the ultimate instance in which happiness left his life.

You were a sight for sore eyes, a bandaid for a wound. A one and only in a world of forever ‘ifs.’ A constant where finite was the sole possibility. And lastly, a sweet fragrance mixed with the smell of gunpowder and death. 

However, he seldom thought about a calm life. He was not deserving of silence since it meant replaying his life through his eyes. Maybe that’s why his own mind was sabotaging his happiness. Life as an outlaw at least gave him a purpose, trying not to get killed left him with no time to dwell on his own low self-esteem. 

“You ugly bastard…” Sour as always but not less honest. In his mind, it was a payback. An attempt to not be in debt with life or whatever entity above him. He didn’t deserve a good life, so a few insults at himself would make things even.

Despite the harsh words he shared with himself, there was a chirping but endearing voice that told him otherwise. Ugly would be replaced by beautiful and old with young. 

But words weren’t enough if his shell was hard to crack. Therefore, the change had to come from him and not from a third person. 

"Arthur….” An intoxicated voice called him and brought him back to reality, to his reality. Both of you have shared some drinks that led to being somewhat drunk. Alcoholic beverages affected you a tad more than him, but that didn’t mean you were unconscious.

You were indeed very conscious.

“You know I love you, right?” And perhaps his own demons subtly pull him to believe your words are just drunk rambles. Lies mixed with a hint of just neediness and stupidity. No wonder, he doesn’t let you drink. Because he now has to deal with the slow poison of not being actually loved.

Damn you.

You share a cabin, you share a room and you definitely share days in which boredom was the pillar of your new life. A boredom not less welcomed but still so foreign to the rough man. But of course, in his messed up mind that didn’t mean you loved him.

“You’re drunk…”

His insecurities drowned out any joy he could feel. Dismissing your words was easier than accepting a reality he had never experienced.

Loving himself.

“I am drunk. You’re completely right sir.” The little show you were giving him was rather amusing. He had dealt with a drunk you many times before, but now it seemed there was a sense of purpose behind your actions. 

“But I’m simply telling the truth.” A waterfall of I love you’s escaped your lips. As if every one of them tried to make its way deeper into his system and plant a seed of self-worth.  

Clumsily, your body fell on top of him. However, you were conscious enough not to knock him towards the bed but rather straddle his lap. A poor attempt at caging him and stopping him from evading your words.

A faint of irritation coursed through Arthur as your voice rose slightly. But not at you but at his own incompetence of believing your words as beautiful as they sounded. Nonetheless, he was weak when feeling the warmth of your body embracing his. A reminder of you being alive and well next to him.

“Quit your rambling and sleep, you drunken fool lady.” His words may have sounded harsh but deep down, a tender tone hid behind his call out. Especially with how his hands protected you from falling. 

A smile formed on your face as you felt Arthur’s hands on your lower back. A few months ago, you had told him you felt safe with him, his reply was no more than a scoff but that moment wouldn’t leave his mind. And although he could only see the hands of a killer, he ought to protect you no matter what.

That was the least he could do.

“You may say that but…” Your hand caressed his stubbled cheek. “Drunk words are…” A hiccup escaped your lips. “Drunk words are sober thoughts.”

And they damn were. Even when alcohol wasn’t running through your veins as it does now. I love you’s were more common than greetings at this point.

“You ain’t makin’ any sense, woman.” He whispered, brushing back some hair that was sticking to your forehead.

“You don’t make any sense either, Arthur Morgan.” You replied, this time a bit more serious than all of your previous ‘yapping’.

He groans, knowing you were right. There were days in which his existence didn’t make any sense, at least for him. 

You knew that this simple talk wouldn’t do anything to the so-wounded Arthur. His heart has built an armor so strong that not even truthful words could destroy it. You shifted in his lap and slowly moved closer to him.

“Let’s do something else.” A glint appeared in your eyes as you came up with an idea to sort out the root of the problem.

However, Arthur completely misunderstood your intentions.

“I ain’t doin’ nothing with you. Look at the state you’re in.” He stated firmly. 

“You fool of a man. It ain’t nothing to do with that sort of thing.” You softly punched him in his chest, not really aiming to hurt him but rather reprimand him. 

“Just… hear me out, okay?” Your eyes locked with his blue-ish ones. Amidst the drunken state you were in, your intentions were as clear as if you were sober. “You’re gonna repeat after me, got it?”

“I don’t like this.” Arthur muttered, his nose scrunching up a bit.

You paid no mind, already getting your plan to work. “Listen closely.” 

A hint of curiosity flashed through his eyes as he couldn’t really make out what you wanted him to do. 

“I love you.”

Arthur rolled his eyes at your words. Words he had heard (and said) so much. But there was not a day he did not yearn to hear it from your lips. 

He couldn’t help but sigh, a facade to hide how much he was starting to let himself drown in the feeling.

“I love you.” He finally obliged, his eyes squinting when he saw you grinning.

“Oh honey… I know.” You cooed but your chuckles were obvious to a confused Arthur. You were light-heartedly teasing him.  “But you were supposed to change the ‘I’ for ‘You’ and the ‘you’ for ‘me,’ silly”

“That’s not what the word ‘repeat’ means.” His words are accompanied by his own self of teasing. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea.

“Shut up Arthur….” 

“A little demanding for someone who can’t even sit straight on my lap.” And finally, a feeble smile adorned his face. 

“Go on.” You frowned, already waiting to continue with the little game or experiment you were both taking part in.

“You love me?” He repeated questioningly, expecting some kind of correction on your part.

“Very much.” You emphasized, letting your words linger in the air for a bit before coming up with another phrase, another affirmation he had to repeat. “Now… ‘I’m worthy’.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, he hadn’t even said the word yet and it already felt so foreign to him. Worthy of what?

“Say what?” He feigned ignorance, knowing damn well what your little plan was. A playful smile was on his face.

“Don’t play dumb. It doesn’t suit you.” You persisted, not allowing him to escape from the inevitable. “Repeat it.”

You gently held his face, your noses brushing in an endearing display of affection. And for a few seconds, both of you just stayed there, embracing the warmth of shared love and unspoken intimacy. 

Maybe he was indeed worthy. Worthy of having someone next to him every time he wakes up. Worthy of having a warm meal every day, and having someone he could so easily love.

Both of you are grinning like idiots, you were drunk on alcohol and he was in the love you were—or rather always provided. 

Reluctantly, slowly, and carefully. He thought about those two words and let them set in his brain before saying them. 

“I’m worthy.” He finally repeated… or confessed? His mind was still adamant to believe it. But acceptance is the first step for a change and you have taught him about the art of betterment.

A lump formed in his throat as he looked into your loving eyes. A feeling of purpose suddenly rushed back to him. After all these years, this was the first time he actually felt worthy. 

“So worthy…” A loving kiss was pressed against his lips. Your words were a silent prayer and the dim room was your sacred place. If God existed he surely did an amazing job forgiving him. 

Arthur’s eyes fluttered closed as your lips locked with his. He was no stranger to your affection but damn he would never say no to them. A strange sense of hope washed over him, maybe this was the beginning of a new era.

He had everything, it was time to enjoy it.

“So worthy…” He repeated even though he wasn’t mean to. Those were your words, but now he managed to sing them as if they were a song he was learning. 

And the phrase was repeated over and over that night. When your eyes got tired of being opened and when the alcohol finally took its toll on you. It was repeated when you finally fell asleep and he admired the face of his life partner. And it was repeated over the course of days, when he found his home inside of you, letting his body show how much he adored you.

Arthur was a man of few words. But now, his mental dictionary was completed and the insults were soon replaced with only words of affection.

Worthy of life and love.

[cliozaur]

Regarding your post on tea and coffee in Les Mis fics-- are there any other little anachronisms that have stood out to you?

Most of my research for everyday life of the not-heinously-wealthy from that time period tends to be limited to England and the fledgling USA, just because that's most readily available to me, and it didn't occur to me just how big a difference there'd be between the countries.

Tips would be greatly appreciated.

Oh, thank you for asking. Where do I start? First, I don’t want to be overly critical, and as I said, I don’t mind ignoring anachronisms, especially small ones. I’m grateful to all the authors I read and appreciate their efforts!

Second, it’s hard to say which anachronisms are small; once you know, you know.

I rarely see accurate representations of food and drinks, especially those of common people. Take, for example, breakfast. We don’t want any English breakfast—most British traditions were met with hostility in France due to the antagonism between the two nations. Moreover, the notion of breakfast was quite new for the French at that time. Typically, the rich had toasted bread (with butter or jam) and coffee or hot chocolate, while the poor had bread and soup, water, or even wine. Before the Haussmann reconstruction, not every flat had a kitchen. Javert most likely wouldn’t have had one. (I often see fanfics featuring Javert’s kitchen.)

Water, bathing, washing dishes. Many authors don't grasp that obtaining enough water for bathing (not to mention it as a daily practice) was a big deal, making dry washing more common. And then there was the challenge of getting the water out of the house. I’m not sure people understand that the sewer system at that time was designed for draining water and filth from the streets, not from individual houses. Some fancy houses might have had standpipes in the basements, but they still had to remove dirty water manually.

Javert’s work at the police is always tricky. Authors often have him doing things the early nineteenth-century police couldn’t and wasn’t expected to do—no investigative work, and definitely no detective work. But let’s be honest, Hugo also messed this up, as his Javert performed duties as if he were working for all the existing police departments in Paris.

And little things about behaviour—Javert and Valjean wouldn’t cook for each other. Cooking and other household chores associated with women were considered too degrading for any man, even male servants.

Feel free to ask if you have any specific questions.

[mossy-rot]

reading about autistic meltdowns is crazy. in retrospect maybe that time i ended up sobbing self isolating and lashing out at people because I couldn't figure out how to set up my laptop the same way it had been before might've been because of The Autism

[rustedleopard]

source on Flint?

The dirt.

Okay, joke answer aside, I'll put the source under the cut...

I'm going to assume that you're likely referring to the fun fact tidbit that I posted yesterday about Flint originally intended to be involved in the Jealous Bass boss fight.

The Cutting Room Floor has an archive of stuff that was cut from Mother 3 but still exists as data within the game. If you scroll down to Flint, you'll see that he has unused sprites for dodging the train, which is an event that happens in chapter 4.

And if you put Flint into your party as the second party member in debug mode then go to the train, he will dodge the train with that sprite animation. Compare that to Claus, who when programmed to be the second party member, does dodge the train like intended (and Boney, as the third party member, does not) but does not display the proper animation for this motion, we can see that while the behavior of jumping out of the way is programmed into the second party member, they only have the proper sprite for the scene if they're supposed to be there. This tells us that Flint was supposed to be involved in Chapter 4, at least up until the train, but was cut late into development. The only thing that stops Flint from jumping out of the way is the fact that he isn't there.

We also have a cut animation of what appears to be Flint clinging onto the airship, which is what Lucas and the rest of his party does at the end of chapter 5. Now, can I say with absolute certainty that this is what this animation is intended for? No, because I wasn't on the development team. But considering how closely that sprite of Flint resembles the rest of the party in that scene:

And how close Chapters 4 and 5 are to each other, as well as how the Spaceworld (1999) Earthbound 64 trailer* (apologies for the blurriness, but TCRF does have a clearer image of this scene on their website) does show Flint, along with Lucas, Claus, Duster, and Boney clinging to an airship, it's easy to deduce that's it's highly likely that Flint was intended to be in the party at least up until the party separation at the end of Chapter 5.

Also, so no one could say that that animation of Flint was actually supposed to be for Chapter 7 when Lucas and company were clinging onto the bird cage, here's a screenshot of that. You can see that if Flint was involved here, his animation would've had him hanging on from the wrong direction (apologies for the Lucas mooning).

[Also as a small aside: while not exactly evidence on its own but something worth pointing out, there is a notable difficulty spike in Chapter 4 when there's only Lucas and Boney in the party. The enemies at this point in the game the can wipe your party quite easily if you're not careful, and I always struggled against them even in the standard mode and I'm sure I'm not the only person who experienced this (while the game tells you not to mess with the Cattlesnakes, there's nothing to stop the Horsantulas and Ostrelephants from running right at you and initiating a battle). Having a heavy hitter in your party like Flint would've made the chimeras outside of Club Titiboo as well as the Jealous Bass easier. Again though, I'm not going to use my experiences as evidence because it could just be that I'm not good at the game.]

So, we have a timeframe that says that Flint was supposed to be in the party from around the beginning of Chapter 4 to at least the end of Chapter 5, which is well within the timeframe that the Jealous Bass boss fight occurs. Now, of course, just because there's evidence that Flint was supposed to be in the party for Chapters 4 and 5 doesn't mean that he would've been involved in the Jealous Bass boss fight with a 100% certainty. Flint could've been rendered incapable of participating in the attic dungeon (and, subsequently, that fight) for one reason or another. Maybe he gets locked in the bathroom while showering? Who knows? While it would've been an odd story direction, I wasn't the one making those sorts of decisions, so I can't say with absolute unshakable faith that he was going to be there. And for that, I apologize. I have changed the wording of that post a bit so it's a bit more ambiguous. There's nothing I can do for versions that have been reblogged unfortunately, but at least the base post reflects that. But there's at least enough evidence to prove that this is likely what was intended to happen.

* While I do not consider Earthbound 64 and Mother 3 the same games, it's undeniable that Earthbound 64 did lay the grounds for the direction that Mother 3 went in. If the only piece of evidence I had for Flint clinging to the airship was from that trailer alone, I would not have used it.

[pyreshe]

livvy was Very premature when she was born; like dangerously premature. she had to spend over a month in the NICU until she was healthy enough to come home. i think vincent ended up joining a group for single parents, mostly moms, with new babies, and while there, livvy was hitting milestones later than the other babies. the doctor assured him that livvy was doing pretty well considering her rocky start, and vincent knew on some level that they were probably right, but also cannot escape the notion that he's doing something wrong and that livvy would be doing better if HE were better.

someone at some point tells him that considering everything he's actually doing a great job of being livvy's dad and that she'll catch up very soon, and vincent can't help but cry.

[kindahoping4forever]

Crystalllll he went live again!!! Did you see?? He even gave you two chances to catch him this time 🥰

Yes I was actually around to catch him this time! I've stitched both streams he did together (about 20 mins of footage) and will be uploading them to my YouTube as soon as my internet allows! I'll of course make a post here when the video goes live 💙

[k9wa]

𑣲 RILE HIM UP ! ft BOOTHILL.

⠀ — your least favourite cyborg is brought back to you a mangled mess.

⠀ OR

⠀ — being boothill’s mechanic when you lowkey can’t stand each other.

⚠︎ sweet sweet tension, a little suggestive towards the end, gn reader (no referring pronouns), can they fuck already, this was ib by his lightcone, wc 1.9k

boothill's eyes flickered to life, emitting a faint glow of red as his systems began to reboot.

a pair of familiar red pupils met yours, two crosshairs fading into sight as boothill regained his sight and— to your dismay— consciousness.

as the cyborg regained his motion he attempted a step forward, only to realise he didn’t have the feet or legs to do so. the only thing keeping him powered on were some metal claws screwed into his back and a few loose cables connecting to your terminals.

“sugar plum,” boothill's scruffy voice cut through the silence. “do y'care to explain where my legs might’a run off to?”

you actually cocked an eyebrow. how the hell were you supposed to know? boothill was brought back to you in a mess of scraps and wiring— the damn hunk of metal was lucky you made him as blast proof as possible and he was left salvageable. 

“care to tell me how the hell you got this roughed up?”

you asked in turn, crouching down to look at the detached and ruined internals of boothill's torso where the stand-in wires were connected. you ran a finger carefully along the edge of his shredded metallic stomach.

“guess i didn't make you as smart as i thought. time for a newer model, maybe?”

boothill's eyes flickered down to his missing lower half, then to your hand that was more or less caressing him. it was amazing how much annoyance they could show in all their artificial glory.

“look who’s talkin.” the cowboy grumbled, pointy fangs poking out in an irritated grin. 

“how ‘bout, ‘gee, boothill! i’m real glad y’ain’t get blown to smithereens beyond repair!’” 

“it would've been less work for me if whoever blew you up finished the job.”

you sighed as you stood up, putting a hand lazily on your hip.

“how’d it happen?”

boothill bit back another argument with a gruff chuckle.

“some real cutie-pies i was huntin’ down had a lil’ more firepower than i expected. guess they didn’t appreciate me spoilin’ their party.”

boothill visibly cringed as his insult was substituted with some cutesy nickname mid explanation.

“and can you fix my beautiful synesthesia beacon already? this thing is drivin’ me up the wall.”

the request fell on deaf ears as your fingers typed something on your laptop, likely another string of code.

“you’re more concerned about your censor than how long it’s gonna take me to put your legs back on…” you sighed to yourself, still leaned over your workbench, eyes focused on your screen.

“i'm not touching it right now. you’re lucky i’m even letting you stay sentient after this.”

boothill snorted at the remark, brows furrowing in a steady grimace.

“well, ‘scuse me for wantin’ to speak freely–  i’m a grown man!” his pointy teeth shone as they peeked out again in a grin.

“y’know what? just leave yer lil’ tools and all the pieces there— i’ll get my legs back on myself. don’t need no charity work from the likes’a you.” he laughed. “heck, may even give myself a new pecker while i'm at it!”

the mechanic had half a mind to listen, sit back and watch boothill struggle to reassemble himself just to prove a point and simultaneously bask in his embarrassment when the former realised it wasn’t possible.

(not that he would’ve admitted defeat– you would have begrudgingly stepped in and helped before he inevitably messed up his wiring more.)

you stepped back over to boothill, hands moving to hold his cheeks so you could tilt his face side to side to check for any more damage.

“cool it, cowboy.” your eyes squinted in focus as they looked at boothill's, lightly tugging up on his eyelid to check for scratches or cracks.

“i'll get you back up and running, just lose the attitude already.”

boothill's eyes narrowed as he felt your touch on his face. the temperature difference of warm fingers on his cold, mechanical body stirring an oddity where his gut should have been. though he tried to ignore it, the sensation was there, clear as day against all his artificial nerve endings. 

“real easy for you to say,” he huffed, avoiding your eyes as he was examined like a broken toy. “let’s see how peachy you are when yer all strung up and legless, love muffin.”

that censor really was gonna drive him insane.

“just get it over with.'' boothill muttered in annoyance. “and try not t’fuss anythin’ up.”

it took quite some time, as expected, for you to successfully reattach boothill’s legs and fix his mangled midsection. when you were finally finished, you tugged out any leftover wires that connected boothill to your terminals and pushed back in your wheelie chair to beckon the cowboy forward. you pushed your glasses up to your forehead, some hair getting swept out of your eyes with them.

“feel fine?”

boothill rolled his ankles and bent his knees, giving his legs a good stretch to test their mobility.

“mighty fine,” he responded, satisfied to feel they were weighted and moved the same as before. “though i can’t say i’m lovin’ the breeze up my backside.” 

boothill glanced down at himself, steel body completely bare and lacking any of his signature clothing. 

“got my pants lyin’ around anywhere, sugar plum?”

you pointed to another table in the room, where boothills clothes— (or rather the new ones you had to go and get—) were neatly folded, his hat placed on top of them. 

boothill went to get himself dressed, hoisting up his bell bottomed pants and sliding on his jacket. he stole a glance in your direction every so often, resisting the childish urge to roll his eyes at the mere sight of you.

the artificial man hit a small bump in the road as he went to zip his jacket (could you really call it that with how little it covered?) up—  his fingers weren’t responding as well as they should have been. he could open and close his fist, but lacked the precision to pinch and hold the zipper.

“hey, honeybun,'' boothill called over to you with a furrowed brow. “didn’t i tell you not to go fudgin’ anythin’ up?”

you, in all your overtired glory groaned, turning around in your chair and waving boothill back over.

“what are you talking about?” 

“my cute lil’ fingers ain’t workin’ that’s what i’m talkin’ ‘bout!”

boothill's footsteps were clunky and loud as he stomped his way back over to his mechanic.

you reached for his hand, an uncharacteristic gentleness in your touch as you examined five mechanical fingers.

“make a fist,”

boothill obeyed, curling his fingers into his palm.

“open it,”

he obeyed again, letting them open and relax.

“hold up two fingers,”

boothill tried, but his fingers got stuck halfway into the motion, locking at the joints.

“son of a bitch.” you sighed, turning for one of your tools. “sit back down.”

boothill grumbled and went to hoist himself back onto the workbench.

“least one o’us can say it…” 

“do you want me to fix you or not?”

“i'm sittin’ ain’t i??”

you pulled boothill's shirt off his left shoulder and popped open a tiny panel on the curve of his neck, sliding your glasses back on to the bridge of your nose. with a lean forward you began carefully looking at a few thin wires that filled the space.

boothill tapped his fingers against the tabletop while you worked, that same oddity as before settling in his now repaired gut. he rarely got messed up enough for you and him to spend this much time together, or for you to have to really be in such close proximity.

it’s not uncomfortable, but the feeling is by no means familiar. it’s actually a little embarrassing– a galaxy ranger, a space cyborg and expert hunter, feeling almost flustered at some close contact like some kind of shy little girl.

“something the matter?”

boothill nearly jumped as you spoke up quietly to check on him, voice quiet and so close to his ear he had to refrain from leaning both closer and away.

“nah, everything’s just dandy.” boothill’s voice followed yours– quieter and a little softer as a result of the closeness.

“you’re sure?” you looked up from the small mess of wires, eyes glancing up at your cyborg over the rim of your glasses. “might as well fix anything else that’s bugging you while i’m here.”

boothill would have swallowed if he had the need to lubricate his throat. he shook his head, turning to look somewhere— anywhere else.

yours lingered on him, albeit briefly, observing the clench of his jaw and the way he tried to shift in his seat without being disruptive to your work. he didn’t see the little smirk tug at your lips as you refocused on the task at hand.

boothill’s cybernetic limbs felt almost human in their sensitivity, sending faux shivers up a spine he didn’t even have. the mechanics fingers running down his forearm are doing him no favours as they move to hold his hand again.

“close your fist…open it…two fingers up…”

each command was obeyed, ten gunmetal fingers finally holding up a little peace sign.

“that should be it, come see me if they start acting up again.”

you stood up, tentatively reaching out to fix boothill’s jacket and begin to zip it for him.

boothill didn’t protest the act, but it was…confusing, to say the least.

“reckon i’ll just start seein’ those auto bots again,” he leaned back on his palms as your fingers fixed his collar, straightening it out.  “much as i love our lil’ visits.”

you only hummed, smoothing out a few wrinkles and neatly tucking his scarf into it’s neckline, as he liked. “you could,” you mused, hooking your finger lightly into his collar and giving a gentle tug forward. “they don’t take as good care of you as i do, though.”

this time boothill caught the little smirk on your lips, clear as day and enough to make him question if short circuiting was possible.

you’re doing it on purpose, he knows. the careful touches to his hands and body against the sensors you put there, quiet voice leaving him with a frisson you made it possible for him to have.

boothill returned the smirk, albeit a little wobbly.

“you tryin’a rile me up, sugar plum?” 

he entertained you with a lean forward, two white crosshairs looking right at you while he considered if a hand on your waist was too forward or the perfect cornering move. 

“just like watching you squirm.”

you were gone as quickly as you’d arrived, finger unhooked and going to pick up his hat.

“but say i was,” you didn’t bother with a glance over as you made sure the brim was straight and unharmed. “i hardly have to try.” 

boothill hopped down from the table, following your path and offering a scruffy chuckle when you reached up to place it on his head.

“yeah? and what makes y’say that?” his hand found a place on his hip.

you didn’t respond— not verbally, anyway. a quick flick of your eyes downwards was all he received. 

so he followed, looking down as well, to the very appendage he had insisted you give him over and over again pushing against his trousers. 

his own dream, now his downfall. 

boothill pushed passed you, pushing his hat further down onto his head while he stomped away. the profanities that left his lips filled the air— or rather their replacements. something something i love you blah blah peach cobbler something cutie-pie or meow!

“remind me t’settle for them lovely auto bots next time!”

he opened the door with a firm kick of his boot, stomping out with a scowl. 

as if he wouldn’t be back. you took better care of him, after all.

⠀ 𑣲 MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?

[rebeccathenaturalist]

Welcome to my Tuesday morning PSA about plastics!

So--I was walking along the Bolstadt beach approach sidewalk here in Long Beach, WA yesterday afternoon, and I started seeing these little orange pellets on the ground that looked a little bit like salmon roe (but probably weren't). So I picked one up, and it was most definitely rubber. I went around picking up every one I could find, and while I didn't keep exact count I probably amassed 50-60 of them. I took this picture before depositing them in the nearest trash can.

These are airsoft gun pellets, and you can buy them in big jars containing thousands of them. That means that someone who decided that the beach was a great place to shoot their airsoft guns could easily litter the place with countless little bits of plastic rubber in less than an hour. We already have a huge problem here with people leaving trash, including tiny bits of plastic, all over the beach (you should see the gigantic mess after 4th of July fireworks when thousands of people come in from out of town, blow things up, and then leave again without picking up after themselves.)

But these airsoft pellets have a particularly nasty side effect. You know how my first thought was "wow, those look kind of like salmon roe?" Well, we have a number of opportunistic omnivore birds like crows, ravens, and several species of gull that commonly scavenge on the beach, especially along the approaches because people often feed them there. If I can catch the resemblance of an orange airsoft pellet to a fish egg, then chances are there are wildlife that will assume they're edible.

Since birds don't chew their food, they probably won't notice that the taste or texture is wrong--it'll just go down the hatch. And since they can't digest the pellets, there's a good chance they might just build up in the bird's digestive system, especially if the bird eats a large number of them--say, fifty or sixty of them dropped on the ground along the same fifty foot stretch of sidewalk. The bird might die of starvation if there's not enough capacity for food in their stomach--or they might just die painfully of an impacted gut, and no way to get help for it. If the pellets end up washed into the ocean, you get the same issue with fish and other marine wildlife eating them, and then of course the pellets eventually breaking up into microplastic particles.

You can get biodegradable airsoft pellets; they appear to mainly be gray or white in color rather than bright screaming orange and green. But "biodegradable" doesn't mean "instantly dissolves the next time it rains." An Amazon listing for Aim Green biodegradable airsoft pellets advertise them as "Our biodegradable BBs are engineered to degrade only with long-term exposure to water and sun and will degrade 180 days after being used." That's half a year for them to be eaten by wildlife.

I don't know, y'all. That handful of carelessly dropped rubber pellets just encapsulates how much people don't factor in the rest of nature when making decisions, even on something that is purely for entertainment like an airsoft gun. We could have had a lot of the same technological advances we have today, but with much less environmental impact, if we had considered the long-term effects on both other people and other living beings, as well as our habitats. We could have found ways from the beginning to make these things in ways that benefited us but also mitigated any harm as much as possible. Instead we're now having to reverse-engineer things we've been using for decades, and sometimes--like the "biodegradable" airsoft pellets--they still have a significant negative impact.

But--at least there are people trying to do things better, thinking ahead instead of just on immediate profit. We're stuck in a heck of a mess here, figuratively and literally, and changing an entire system can't be done in a day. Maybe we can at least keep pushing for a cultural shift that emphasizes planning far into the future--if not the often-cited "seven generations ahead", then at least throughout the potential lifespan of a given product.

[a-hazbin-reader]

How do you think Alastor would react to being called cute, hot etc.along those lines

Like how would it make him feel? Pre-Wifey. Like it’s Wifey, but she ain’t wifey yet lol

Wifey rizzing up her man??? 👀

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Alastor being TORTURED, Reader has that WIFE energy, Alastor thinks about killing someone

Description: ☝️⬆️

Alastor was a confident man who prided himself on not being taken unawares by anything or anyone

The keyword is was

But meeting you and getting to know you has completely caught him off guard because he's FALLING for you

He knew you were a dangerous woman, but he didn't realize just what sort of danger he was in

In danger of losing his HEART~

He couldn't help it, you were beautiful and witty along with a number of other fantastic qualities/talents

And when you smiled at him it made him freeze in his tracks, even the simplest eye contact made him feel flushed

But then you opened your mouth and actually spoke to him which made things so much more difficult

"You look good today, Alastor~ Did you do something different? Very debonair~"

He wonders if you're torturing him like this on purpose, if you know how he feels about you

But he does his best to remain unfazed, or at least not let you see how your words affect him

"I can't say I've done anything new, but I appreciate that someone around here notices my good looks~"

Your soft laugh makes his heart skip a beat, and he almost blushes when your fingers play with the ends of his hair

"I always notice you, Alastor."

He's at least able to wait until you leave the room to suddenly collapse on a table, steam coming out of his ears as he clutches at his chest

He would be insanely jealous if you acted this way with anyone else but you seem to reserve it all for him, something he's secretly grateful for

Even when you're drunk, you always seem to find a way to make him fluster

Alastor finds you at the bar, cheeks pink from the alcohol in your system, talking to the bartender about something

Or someone

"-he's just so handsome..! I can't get over it-"

Alastor takes a seat next to you, cutting off some random guy from taking the seat in hopes of getting an easy mark out of you

"Who's handsome now?"

He's totally not asking because he's jealous, or trying to figure out who he's going to hunt down and ki-

You hiccup and give him a drunken smile, leaning in to get in his face, which immediately makes his heart race

"You are~ Hand...some~"

Alastor can feel the heat rushing up to his face as you poke his nose before clumsily leaning back to get your drink

Okay, you've definitely had enough to drink

"I think you've had enough for tonight, let's get you home, my dear."

You whine and pout as he drags you out of the bar, only complying when he wraps an arm around your waist to keep you steady

He hopes that you're too drunk to remember the way he blushes the entire way home with you, holding you tight

It doesn't help that you're so snuggly when you're drunk, nuzzling your head under his chin

He almost explodes when he manages to pry you off of him and lay you down on your bed only for you to stare at him with glassy eyes

"Mm...that's hot...you're so hot~"

He rubs his hand over his face in an effort to hide the embarrassing choked sound that escapes him

"Please... just go to sleep..."

He's less sure that you're messing with him when you say things like that while drunk out of your mind

Your worst attacks are the sneak attacks that come out of nowhere for him, making it painfully obvious how much he feels for you

He's eating when you suddenly come in, rolling your eyes as you sit next to him, listening to all the little noises he makes as he eats

He can't help it, the food is delicious~

You suddenly grab a napkin and dab the corner of his mouth, giving him a small smile

"You're cute, you know that?"

He almost chokes on his food, your words along with the physical touch making his mind go blank

"C-cute!?"

Fuck, his voice cracked, making him blush uncontrollably as you obviously try not to laugh at him

"Ahem! Cute is not a proper word to describe me, I am many things, but cute isn't one of them..!"

You take his plate away from him, helping yourself to his meal as he rants about how he's not cute

"Say what you will, but I think you're a very cute man~"

He just groans and lays his head on the table, openly blushing now as he watches you eat

"I'm not... cute..."

You just laugh at him and it makes his heart beat a little faster despite his visible pouting

You're an evil woman who's torturing him for falling for you, trying to make him confess so you can tease him about it

He's sure of it...but it doesn't diminish his growing feelings for you any less

This one was so fun 😭

[frmisnow]

˙✧˖ ?! — STAMINA. - MDNI !!

— ‧₊˚ — 🕳: "didn't i already fuck all the cum out of you ??"

summary. who would've thought your boyfriend had this much stamina? basically horny freshly woken up tae 👍

notes. i love me some sleepy consentual sex! first time writing for tae (PLSSS tell me if you want more of him or of who rly) 🙏

warnings/includes. (NSFW) subby-ish! taehyung x f! reader, lots of mwah mwah kisses, NEEDY tae, riding, reader is a bit degrading (but he loveees it so we're good!!), unprotected sex (stay safe y'all!!)

"m'baby," his guttaral voice whisperes in your ear, nibbling and licking lazily, till moving on to your neck, leaving a faint trail of saliva, "baby" his words somewhere far, far away yet his tone a little more whiny almost pleading for you to open your eyes, pecking all over your bare shoulders and collar bone till returning to your face, cupping it as well as shaking you lightly.

"tae-" your voice quiet, eyes opening almost impressingly slow, weak hands reaching out for god knows what.

in response he immediately wraps his arms around your whole body, nuzzling his face into your tummy, kissing some of the moles, mumbling something non-audible against the soft skin.

"please," his greedy fingers squezzing the flesh gently, head going up and down, in a mix of looking up to you with half lidded eyes (he himself didn't seem fully woken up) and going down to give all your skin from belly to thighs quick little sloppy pecks "please"

he looked so pretty like this, once again looking up to you like you're the whole fucking solar system if you'd look closely you'd probably see stars sparkling somewhere in his eyes, lips swollen and glossy from the shit ton of making out for what felt like eternity a few hours ago, has it really been hours? or days? or years even? no matter what: you could do it all over again.

feel his tongue and mouth run all over you, listen to him blabber moan nonsense & not get a single thing, have it endlessly feel like wet cum was all over you both, then repeat the loop all over again and something in you sensed from his gaze that he thought just the same.

and it didn't take long till he's all over you again, doing just what you thought a few minutes ago.

once again you felt familiarly stuffed and filled to the brim, though truthfully this time you were a lot more slow with it, not like when the both of you were particularly horny - when he'd grind himself onto you almost immediately, when you hear his deep voice turn higher and higher while moaning non stop, basically when he threw himself onto you.

this wasn't new, you'd both start the evening pretty rough e.g if you had a bad day at work and then progressively get more gentle in actions and speed, that didn't stop him from being horny tho - no, he loved pussy, he loved the feeling of having you tightly wrapped around him, the feeling of closeness, knowing that nobody else gets to have you like this or even slightly close.

he loves the way he can talk to you, the way you could talk to him, you were the only one who could say downwards degrading shit and easily get away with it.

"always have to wake me up, can you not control your dick for once?" you groaned, grinding onto him just a tiny bit faster as he threw his head back in sexual frustration, little drops of sweat on his forehead.

"faste- faster pleas- m'"

something about seeing him messed up like this was entertaining almost endearing, "why? you can't even seem to handle this"

"need t- cum, fill you up, ple-" his sentence was once again broken of by himself as he moaned in response to you finally picking up pace, bouncing on his cock ever so slightly.

"didn't i already fuck all the cum out of you?"

"fuc- no, no always always have for yo'mm" he blabbered to himself, watching your pussy swallow his dick so well, whimpering some more.

"cum for me then" you said nonchalantly, though you were trying to cover up the fact that this whole little 4am episode got you yourself very close to another own high.

as he pushed his hips forward, you slammed into him one more time when he filled you up with hot release, groaning himself, jolting his head back onto the bed headboard when you rode out both of yall's orgasms slowly.

before you could even think of getting of his cock, his hands were at your hips, holding you close to him, fingers digging into your skin, "stay on me, please - wanna cuddle with you this close to me, in me"

you grinned in response, kissing him lazily mumbling against his lips, "i just knew you'd say that"

[marvelslittlewhore]

Warnings

REQUEST | I can't help but think of rafe x reader x JJ at a party. She is being a brat to them and they warn her if she keeps it up she is in trouble. Rafe snaps and takes her upstairs to punish and then JJ comes in all sweet, like we warned u, and he praises her for being good for Rafe. Telling her to be good for him while he makes it beter.

PAIRING | mean!dom!rafe cameron x fem!reader x soft!dom!jj maybank

WARNINGS | 18+ MDNI! mentions of alcohol consumption, smut, threesome, p in v, oral (m and fem receiving), a frustrating cut-off because I didn't know how to continue sry

A/N | I'm not sure if I like this, love being insecure

            ◃◦--------------●--------------◦▹

"Please, just one more?" you whined, giving Rafe your best puppy eyes.

"I said no. You had enough for tonight," he said, nursing on the cup that he had just taken from your hand.

You frowned muttering something under your breath and jumped when you felt a sudden pinch on your butt, turning to face JJ. "You better watch it, cupcake."

You had given them an attitude the whole day and you knew you were already walking on thin ice but you just couldn't help yourself.

"He's being mean!" you pointed at Rafe without looking at him.

"And you're being a brat." Rafe snipped back and you gasped turning back to him.

"Am not." You pouted, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning against the wall between them.

"Gotta take a leak, be right back," JJ said kissing the side of your head before walking off.

You had a sour expression on your face and Rafe couldn't help but smirk at your antics, reaching out to poke your cheek, intending to make you smile but you only slapped his hand away, glaring at him.

The smirk he had left his face in an instant and his hand now grasped your chin, forcing you to look at him. "I've had enough of your attitude. Maybe you need a little reminder of who's in charge here, huh?"

If you haven't been wet before you would be soaking your panties now, melting into Rafe's touch, the buzz from the alcohol you had in your system giving it another kick.

Without another word he grabbed your hand, walking through the crowd of people and up the stairs, thank god the party was at Tannyhill tonight.

"What about JJ?" you asked looking over your shoulder for any sign of the blonde.

"He'll know where to find us, don't worry," Rafe responded, dragging you inside his room and closing the door but not locking it.

He turns back to you, crossing his arms, the look on his face tells you that he's not in the mood for any more of your games.

"Strip." he simply demanded and so you did without questioning, slowly slipping the strips of your dress off your shoulders, it smoothly falling off your body and onto the ground.

You stepped out of it, taking your bra off next, now standing in front of him in only your panties. He snapped his finger, pointing at the ground before him.

"On your knees."

You quickly did as told, face to face with his crotch before looking up at him.

"You know what to do, brat."

Your hands reached up to fumble with his belt, opening his sipper next and pulling his pants down with his boxers, his cock springing free and you almost drooled at the sight.

You got into action, stroking him slowly, your tongue swirling over the tip. When it took Rafe too long he grabbed your hair into a makeshift ponytail. "Open wide."

As you did he started to use you as he saw fit, it was a punishment after all. He throws his head back groaning at the way you gagged and garbled around him.

Then he held your head still and started to fuck your throat raw. "Fuck." he moaned, looking down at you, seeing the tears that brimmed in your eyes. "You better swallow it all."

Just as he said it you felt him twitch, spilling his load in your mouth with a groan, pulling out only to hold your chin and pressing his thumb on your tongue, leaning down to be closer to your face.

He smirked at how fucked out you already looked, hair and makeup a mess, breathing heavily.

"On the bed."

You quickly got up, scrambling on the bed and into position, grabbing onto the sheets in anticipation. You watched Rafe getting on the bed, opening your legs wide for him.

He kneads the flesh of your thighs and you yelped when he gave the right one a sudden smack, rubbing over the spot.

He hooked a finger in your panties, pulling them down in one go. "Damn, baby, you're dripping."

Your face flushed at this and you moaned when you felt the tip of his cock nudge at your entrance, slowly pushing in.

He didn't even let you breathe for a second, both of his hands holding onto your hips and fingers digging into your skin, starting to snap his hips at a brutal pace.

"Shit- Rafe," you whined and his hand came back down on your thigh in a warning for you to keep quiet, so you did by holding a hand over your mouth, closing your eyes.

You're so out of it that you don't even hear someone entering the room, but you instantly know who the ring-adorned hands belonged to that cradled your face.

"We warned you, didn't we?" JJ said, and you opened your eyes, tears forming again, and you knew this night was far from over. "But you're doing so good. Being such a good girl for Rafe."

Rafe didn't increase his movement and you mewled your hand shooting up to grip JJ's bicep tightly.

JJ coed and one of his hands snaked down to rub your clit, all the stimulation has you sending over the edge, the first orgasm of the night ripping through your body.

Rafe slowed down, fucking you through your high and leaning down to kiss you. When he pulled back he shuffled further down the bed to be at eye level with your pussy.

He instantly got to work, eating you out like you were his last meal. You squealed at the assault he was doing on your clit, turning your face to look at JJ pleadingly to do something, anything.

"It's almost over, princess, promise." he smiled at you "Until that..." he leaned his head down to suck on your nipple, his hand playing with the other.

These boys are gonna be the death of you.

            ◃◦--------------●--------------◦▹

Taglist

For everything:

@lokigirlszendaya @buckymydarlingangel @superlegend216

[local-hellhound-steals-spaghetti]

Please share all you can about Toa the orca calf, I think his story is very important. I don’t know too much but it seems like a case of activists being but in charge rather than actual experts.

Yeah it was a mess from start to finish. Toa was found stranded on the rocks, with witnesses saying the waves had thrown him up there. Already he would have been distressed and had been on his side on a hard surface for a few hours at least.

They got him back in the water and then videos of these interactions started to surface:

No PPE, giving Toa belly rubs and ignoring any formal rescue protocols (if you're trying to refloat a whale, you're not letting them turn upside down)

The sun was going down and DOC wanted people out of the water. Ingrid was on her way and giving instructions to her team. The decision was made to put Toa on a trailer overnight - it's unclear if that was her decision or not but it's clear that, despite not having any rehab facilities in New Zealand, people were determined to rehab this calf and release it back into the wild at any cost.

So they cobbled together a "sea pen" on a boat ramp in a dirty harbour. This is where Toa would eventually die in a few weeks time. Whale Rescue was already selling the story of a miraculous rescue and the plan to "reunite" Toa with his pod. And lying openly that orca calves had been successfully released in the wild before:

He wasn't injured, they said. He was fine. They just had to find his pod now.

When asked reasonable question about where the PPE was for volunteers, Whale Rescue immediately became defensive:

The call for PPE went ignored for about a day while people were in close contact with a sick orca. And the call went out for more "volunteers" aka anyone with a wetsuit. This sparked immediate concerns from the Advisory Group.

Photos like this started showing up - 6 people crowding Toa in a circle, no where for him to go if he wanted a break from people:

The excuse was that Toa needed help swimming. Yet he was swimming okay and avoiding the fences without any obvious issue. And so the habituation began... Despite continuing advice from the Technical Advisory Group - including Loro Parque and SeaWorld, who both have extensive calf raising experience.

"There is no need to have people 24/7 in the water when the animal is able to float and swim alone."

Finally PPE was being used but the habituation and intense contact with Toa continued. Ingrid gave it the okay and other inexperienced members of the public continued to encourage it.

Whale Rescue continued to affirm to the public that they are merely "duplicating natural behaviour" for Toa

And the cultish and unquestioning worship of Ingrid Visser allowed this to continue - note the amount of people in the water for Toa's "massage." They only started wearing PPE when people started questioning it.

If you're wondering what I mean by cultish behaviour see the comment thread below:

They actually believe that Ingrid was communicating with Toa. Because that's what she told them she was doing. And they believed it without question.

When Toa was moved into the freshwater pool due to storms, it got even worse.

This photo was quickly deleted but look how absolutely foul the water is:

There didn't appear to be any sort of filtration or pump system.

At this point volunteers and Ingrid were being fed by donated food from the local pubs, Ingrid was sleeping on site in a donated campervan and the entire community were rallying around trying to "help." Note how close they're all set up to the pool.

Putting him in the pool also made Toa a lot more accessible. Concerns were raised about the stress to the calf and an exclusion zone was agreed upon. Buuut it was immediately disregarded.

7 people! In that tiny pool! And the photos of the complete flouting of the rules continued to surface.

The comments find it all very amusing!

Roll up, roll up! Come and see the dying baby orca calf!

And then, as we near the end of this animal's torment, Ingrid brags to the press about how she's now TRAINING the animal she intends to release into the wild. Because we definitely want to be training cooperative care and making life saving feeding and hydrating procedures all about Choice.

Remember when Ingrid Visser didn't like the "exploitation" of orcas in captivity? Remember when she said that training "tricks", even husbandry behaviours, is cruel and bad? I do!

It makes me seriously wonder if she just wanted to be an orca trainer all her life.

But anyway, Toa's getting bouts of colic (gee, maybe changing the formula without permission wasn't a good idea!) and DOC is starting to get concerned about him. At this point, people are still denying that SeaWorld and Loro Parque are involved and any mention of a facility getting involved is immediately shut down.

This is what was being said in the Advisory Group:

At this point both SeaWorld and Loro Parque have provided formulas, advice ect. Ingrid Visser was claiming she knew these things all along and that the formulas were from her hand picked experts.

So these are what the comments were:

Whale Rescue thought it was appropriate to reply to comments of concern like this:

The cult of Visser continues to fuel the anti human care sentiment.

DOC starts to report concerns with Toa's health and Whale Rescue decides to double down that everything is completely Fine. Don't listen to DOC, keep giving us money.

The donations are getting up to 20k.

Because of Whale Rescue casting dispersions, anti DOC (Department of Conservation - who put in about 10k into the rescue efforts) sentiments grow.

And, only a few days later, Toa dies. I reached the end of my image limit but I still have plenty more screenshots I can share.

I recommend you check out the documents released by DOC to see the sources of these screenshots - the other screenshots were taken from news reports, Facebook groups and posts as well as videos:

[blueicequeen19]

Camping Trip

Warnings: Somno, non-con, unprotected sex, creampie, JJ stealing Rafe’s girl, Rafe claiming her anyway 😮‍💨

I didn't want to come on this camping trip but my girlfriend insisted. The idea behind it was appealing; kayaking through the marsh, partying, then camping for the night, then going back to civilization. The cops left us alone as long as we cleaned up our mess before we left. All the way out here, there was no need to worry about disturbing anyone else or getting a noise complaint. I think this was their way of letting us get everything out of our system. The drugs, alcohol, and sex never stopped flowing at these events. Out here we weren't Kooks or Pogues. We were all alike and just trying to forget for a weekend. Everyone was out in the open, naked and fucking. Or drinking. Or smoking. It was the wildest weekend of the year. But it was torture for me now.

I couldn't relax knowing that the one person plaguing my mind was here and she was here with Rafe fucking Cameron. We were supposed to have some sort of truce with Rafe for Sarah. She didn't want the drama and the retaliation that always followed. And sense one of the rules for coming out here was no fighting, my hands were tied. For the most part.

When we'd been loading the kayaks on the water, I'd seen Rafe's tent lying on the sand waiting to be packed so I nonchalantly bent down to grab something and sliced the side with my knife before he came back. He was more pissed off over manual labor than to notice the giant hole. It wasn't until a few hours ago that he finally noticed and threw a fit. Of course he didn't suspect me because I was the one helping them set up camp. Rafe wasn't made for the outdoors like I was so he didn't have a clue. And when I offered to let them share our four person tent, he was hesitant but he agreed. Especially after I mentioned the risk of sand fleas from sleeping outside.

Y/N saw through my bullshit though. I could tell with the way her eyes tracked my every move, narrowing slightly when we'd lock eyes. My girl isn't stupid so why is she hanging out with this moron?

It was getting late by the time Rafe was drunk enough to be tolerable. My girlfriend was currently passed out in the tent, her buzz keeping her that way as I crawled in next to her. Rafe's one stipulation about sharing the tent was that the girls slept in the middle. That was fine but I couldn't bear to wake my girlfriend so I left her on the side, maneuvering myself between her and Y/N. Both girls were in their bikinis since the night air was still pretty hot and humid while I had nothing on but a pair of basketball shorts. Y/N had laid down a while ago but Rafe was passed out by the fire, where he'd stay for now.

I let my eyes descend her body, marking every detail to memory from the scar on her hip to the freckle on her chest. I want to lick every inch of her the cum on her face. She was exquisite and fucking mine.

I moved closer so her side was pressed to my chest, her hand next to the raging hardon in my shorts. I lost myself in watching the way her tits rose and fell with every breath before I finally pulled each scrap of material to the side to reveal her perfect nipples. They were already hard as I gently blew air across them. She didn't stir so I began to circle one with my point finger, willing it to get as hard as possible. I move to the next one, training my eyes on her face while making sure to listen for movements outside. Her thighs clenched together before falling open, welcoming me as I finally flicked her nipple with my tongue.

God, she tasted good.

I was so hard it hurt and her hand was against my dick, the ultimate form of torture. I didn't stop licking and sucking her peaked little bud until her head fell to the side, exposing her throat to me.

I felt like such a fucking creep but I couldn't help it. This girl made me crazy. I needed her in all the worst ways. Everytime I fucked my girlfriend I had to imagine it was this girl just so I could get off. It was wrong but I was only with her to make Y/N jealous.

I leaned into her neck, inhaling the intoxicating scent of her skin and the shampoo in her hair. I resisted the urge to mark her pretty throat. Rafe would lose his fucking shit and the truce would be over if I left a hickey on her. It was tempting but I pulled back just as she stirred again and her hand brushed against my cock. I sucked in a breath through my nose before reaching down to free myself from my shorts. My cock rested against her hand and I watched as precum wept from the tip, onto her delicate fingers.

I grit my teeth before reaching down to wrap her hand around my cock and slowly use her hand to jerk myself off. I was on the verge of moaning and cumming from this alone so I took her nipple into my mouth again to try and distract myself from the best handsy I'd ever gotten.

Finally, I pulled away and let her hand drop before I moved to the foot of the tent. There was still no movement from outside so I carefully widened her legs further to get a look at her plump, wet pussy, the fabric of her bikini bottoms were damp with her arousal. I positioned myself on my stomach between her thighs and pressed my nose to the fabric, savoring the way she fucking smelled. I needed to get it together or I was going to run out of time.

I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning when I slowly pulled the fabric to the side and found her slick with arousal, just like I knew she would be. She was waxed and so goddamn smooth. I used my hands to open her up and present myself with her clit. The swollen nub was already darkening in color, ready to be sucked.

I stuck my tongue out flat and swiped it from her entrance to her clit, her taste making me almost blow my load right then. I watched her face for signs of movement as I did it again and again. I tried to take my time while I tasted her when really all I wanted to do was feast like a starved man. I needed to die in this pussy.

When I sucked her clit into my mouth and her legs tightened, I stopped, my eyes trained on her unmoving face. I moved lower, teasing her entrance with my tongue and her brows finally pulled together, the first sign of consciousness I'd seen on her.

I thrust my tongue inside her sweet, wet pussy and her toes immediately curled. I couldn't stop fucking her with my tongue. She was so wet that it was running down my chin, onto my chest while it absolutely just poured out of her like a fountain. Finally a soft hum left her lips and I froze for a moment before carefully moving to my knees as I tried to listen for Rafe outside.

"R-Rafe--." She moaned softly, sliding her legs together and turning on her side. Fire blazed through my blood, my hands balling into fists as I grit my teeth so hard, I feared they might shatter. She's dreaming about fucking Rafe.

I didn't think as I rolled her the rest of the way to her stomach and tucked her thong bikini to the side after shoving her legs together. I straddled her body, freeing my cock again and watching it drip all over her nice ass before I guided it through her slick. Pissed off didn't even begin to describe how I was feeling now. It took every ounce of strength I had left to resist the urge to bury my cock in her in one hard thrust but I didn't.

I eased the tip in as I leaned over her back, blood filling my mouth where I've bit my lip. The tight, wet heat of her pussy washed over me, her walls already pulsing as she pulled me in deeper. I leaned down next to her face, moving her hair out of the way as my pelvis became flush with her ass, and kissed the shell of her ear.

"Who's cock is inside you right now?" I can't help but growl, as I start to roll my hips back and forth. Her breathing picks up, her body reacting to mine as I fuck her with short thrusts, attempting to avoid the slapping sound of skin on skin. Her hands fist the sleeping bag next to her head and I grin before looking between our bodies to watch my cock pull out covered in her white, creamy substance before driving back inside her. I lower myself to her back and drag my tongue up her spine, leaving goosebumps all over her skin as I find her ear again.

"Who's fucking you right now?" I growl, her pussy walls quiver hard as she nears her release. Fuck, I'm right there too. I need to pull out. Rafe can't know I was here or I risk throwing away the truce between the Pogues and Kooks but fuck, I don't think the devil himself could stop me right now. A darker part of me wants to mark her insides with my cum just to claim her then watch it drip. Fuck what Rafe thinks.

I cover her hands with my own, her fingers immediately locking with mine in a tight grip. Every inch of her is drawn tight as she approaches her release, her brows pulled together as she fights to maintain the ruse of being asleep. I want to fuck her harder, faster, but I know we’ll get caught if I lose control.

"I should roll you on your back and make you watch as I fuck my cum into you. Sluts like you deserve to be filled up and left." I keep my voice low in her ear and a small gasp leaves her lips, her eyes finally fluttering open to gaze up at me. I'm not sure if she's afraid or pleading. Afraid I'll stop or pleading for me to continue. She looks hot regardless.

"I--." Her whisper is cut off as she cums hard, practically soaking us both as her eyes roll into the back of her head and she trembles beneath me. I growl, driving myself into her harder as cum shoots deep inside her whether I want it to or not. I grab a fistful of her hair, my mouth at her ear as I cum and cum and cum. It's so much that I can't stop.

"Look at me. Look at who's fucking you, who's cum is inside you." I snap in a low voice but she shakes her head, refusing to look at me.

"Look at me or I'll stop. I know you're gonna cum again. Open your fucking eyes and say my name." Her lips tremble just as her eyes snap open and another orgasm washes over her. The fire in her eyes morphs to one of raw desire just as her lips part on a breathless moan and I hear what I've been dying to hear all night.

"J--." Her mouth clamps closed again as she shakes hard beneath me. I fuck her through it until my own body is shaking from overstimulation and I have no choice but slow to a stop.

Her eyes are heavy for a few moments before they narrow on me, that fire back. I lean in to kiss her, wanting to feel her lips just once but she turns her head, jutting out her chin.

“My cum is leaking out of you and you won’t kiss me?” I rasp in her ear, feeling her body tighten and my cock jerks inside her.

“I hate you.” She bites out, watching as I slowly pull out. I can feel we’ve made a mess and for a few seconds I can’t find it in me to give a fuck. I don’t want to pull out. I’m not ready for this to be over. If anything I want to keep going until the sun comes up and we have no choice but to face Rafe.

“You can hate me all you want but you loved every second of it.” I grab Rafe’s towel and clean her up the best I can before she slaps my hand away and does it herself.

“You’re a piece of shit. I thought you were Rafe.” She hisses, grabbing one of Rafe’s shirts and yanking it over her head, her eyes glancing at my sleeping girlfriend that I’d forgotten about.

I open my mouth to argue when I hear steps shuffling in the sand right outside the tent. There’s the distinct sound of vomiting and gagging as we both scramble to right ourselves and appear to be sleeping. I give her my back and quickly throw my arm over my sleeping girlfriend just as the zipper is pulled back.

“Fuck.” I hear Rafe grumble as he drops down on the sleeping bag next to me. There’s shuffling and I hear her gasp. My teeth grind together at the sound of their heavy breathing. He’s so drunk that he’s gonna fuck her with me in here, not even realizing she’s already full of me.

“Rafe..” I hear her whisper then she gasps as he no doubt buries himself inside her.

“God, you’re so wet. Miss me, baby?”

[roosterforme]

Do You Wanna Touch Me? | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You had been working at the bar for six months. And you'd been crushing on Rooster since the first night he handed you his credit card, called you Babydoll, and asked you to start a tab for him. And it only got worse from there, until one night you asked him about more than just his drink order.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, age gap, and smut

Length: 5800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written for my Top Gun Rocktober playlist! Check out my masterlist for more!

"Oh, my god," you whined softly, drying and polishing the rack of pint glasses in front of you as Rooster Bradshaw came strolling into the bar. "Fuck me," you sighed, barely able to keep your eyes off him as you fumbled one of the glasses.

"Yeah, you'd like that," Lizzy said with a laugh as she cut up some lemons before the Friday evening rush.

You didn't even know you spoke out loud. That's how much of a ridiculous crush you had on that big, sexy man. But he strolled right past you on his way to the pool table, barely even sparing a smile in your direction. 

"I really would," you told her, watching the flex of his bicep as he high fived Hangman. It wasn't like your coworkers didn't know you had a thing for Rooster. You'd been working here for six months, and you'd been crushing on him since the first night he handed you his credit card, called you Babydoll, and asked you to start a tab for him. And it only got worse from there.

He still occasionally called you Babydoll. He never called Lizzy or Jasmine by a pet name. Just you. And you held onto that little glimmer of hope that it meant something. That maybe one day, he'd look at you as more than just one of the bartenders.

"What's wrong with you?" Jas asked, waving a hand in front of your face. But then she looked where you were staring, and she asked no further questions. "Oh. Rooster's here."

"He sure is," you added, forcing yourself to focus on the customer in front of you who looked impatient for a drink. As you finished pouring him some tequila shots, you looked up eagerly, and Rooster met your eyes. It had been a solid week since you'd seen him, and he just always looked so good.

You pushed the shot glasses across the bar and collected payment, trying to stay as cool as you could. Because Rooster was heading your way now in his snug vintage wash jeans and bright tropical shirt. 

"Hey, Babydoll," he rasped, and your whole body clenched with need as your eyes fluttered closed. When you met his gaze again, he was leaning on the bar, closing in on your personal space. 

"Hey, Rooster," you replied, sounding a lot calmer than you felt. When he smirked and looked down at your shirt, your heart pounded even harder. Your name was embroidered on your Hard Deck top, just above your breast. He knew your name, but he always called you Babydoll anyway. So was he just simply staring at your tits?

He cleared his throat and asked, "Get me a beer? Please?" 

"Am I starting a tab?" you asked, reaching for one of the pint glasses you'd just finished cleaning. He responded by humming and sliding his credit card across the bar. He held eye contact with you while you expertly pulled the perfect pint of his preferred beer. The way his lips parted in a soft smile that matched yours, the twitch of his mustache...it all felt like foreplay that had been going on for months.

"Thanks," he muttered when your fingers brushed against his. He winked at you before turning back to the pool table, leaving you with his credit card and a desperate need inside of you.

As you set up his tab, Jasmine ran her hand along your lower back so you wouldn't bump her as she walked behind you. "Why don't you just invite him to join you in the bathroom and fuck him out of your system?" she joked. 

"Because," you sighed, "that would only make me pine harder. Getting a small taste of him would be worse than nothing at all."

"Oof," Lizzy replied. "You're a mess over Bradshaw."

"I wonder how old he is?" Jas asked.

You hummed and shrugged, watching him drink his beer across the room while you shook a vodka martini. "Gotta be at least thirty five."

"Ask him," Lizzy said. "Next time he comes over, ask him how old he is."

Your cheeks were warming up. He was bending at the waist, playing pool, and you were taking way too long to serve this martini. "No. What if he thinks I'm being rude? Or worse...what if he catches on that I like him, and he shuts it all down."

"Fine," Jas said, uncapping some ciders. "Next time Rooster comes up, I'll wait on him."

But that really didn't sit well with you. Rooster always came to you for his drinks, anytime he could. You liked that about him. You liked his attention. Jas wouldn't pour his pints quite as well as you could. You knew so well how much foam to let spill and how close to the top of the glass you could get. You loved pulling those pints of lager for him. And you loved pouring him bourbon when he asked for that instead. You knew which brand and that he liked it neat. You didn't have to ask. He didn't have to tell you.

No, you should always be the one to wait on him. And when he finished his pint and strolled back up to the bar after Phoenix beat him at pool, you stepped in front of Jasmine. "I got it," you said confidently, and Jas walked away chuckling. This time Rooster eased himself down onto an empty stool between two women who looked at him like they'd just won the lottery. But his eyes were on you. 

"Lager or bourbon?" you asked, and you were rewarded with those perfect, white teeth and his deep laughter. 

"You got everyone's regular drinks memorized?" he asked as you reached for his empty glass. But he didn't let you take it. He kept one hand on the glass for a few beats while your fingers met his. 

He was making you feel bold tonight. He was even more gorgeous up close like this, with a few gray hairs at his temples and some laugh lines around his eyes. His eyebrows shot up, and his smile faltered when you said, "No, Rooster. Not everybody's regular drinks. Only the hottest guys. Lager or bourbon?"

He grunted and swallowed hard. "Dealer's choice." Then he finally let you take the empty glass, and it was a good thing, too, because you needed to turn away from him. You took a few extra seconds to reach for the bottle of Wild Turkey. Your nipples were hard, your skin felt like it was on fire, and you were turned on just talking to him.

When you turned back to face him, his gaze was neutral again. You uncapped the bourbon and poured it for him, neat. 

"Thanks," he murmured, moving like he was standing to leave. 

And then your mouth worked before your brain, and you said, "Anytime, Sexy."

You watched him pause halfway out of his seat, his eyes dipping down to watch you nervously lick your lips. If he left for the pool table, you really were going to have to let Jasmine wait on him next time. Embarrassment flooded your veins, leaving you uncomfortable with a sheen of cold sweat on your neck. But he eased himself back down onto the stool and kept his eyes on you. "Alright. Babydoll."

You laughed softly, pulling out some glasses for the woman who wanted two cosmos. Rooster sipped his bourbon and kept his focus on your face and your body. He grunted as you took a shaker in each hand, and as you poured them out at the same time, he asked, "What's your favorite drink?"

He was hyper focused on you now, leaning in just the slightest bit further as you served both pink drinks. "To have or to make?" you asked, taking more orders.

"Both. I want you to tell me both."

You smiled at him, and he matched it right away. "Nothing is more fun to make than an expertly crafted Bloody Mary, but those are best as breakfast cocktails."

He nodded, accepting your answer, and then he asked, "And what do you order when you go out?"

You shrugged. "I don't often get to have someone make my drinks for me, but when I do, I usually order a Manhattan."

"A Manhattan?" he asked, balking at your answer. "How fuckin' old are you, Babydoll? People in their seventies drink those things!"

"I'm twenty three," you told him, laughing so hard you were doubled over. He looked delighted when you were finally able to stand up straight again. Your smile was still bright as you leaned on the bar until you were only two feet from his face and softly asked, "How old are you?"

The song on the jukebox changed as Rooster rubbed his mustache and said, "I'm a lot older than you are." His little self deprecating laugh just made you want to get closer to him. He looked amused by you and also resigned to the fact that he thought his age was something you wouldn't like about him.

"How old?" you asked again, biting your lip. 

His brown eyes found your mouth, and you thought for a moment that he was going to kiss you. Oh god, you wanted him to, so badly. "I'm thirty eight."

You hummed softly as Phoenix came to stand next to him, and you started to get her favorite kind of beer ready. 

"You coming back to the pool table?" she asked Rooster, but he just grunted something about needing to finish his bourbon first. When you handed Phoenix her drink, Rooster told you to put it on his tab, and he looked relieved when she walked away.

"Thirty eight," you said, watching him down the remainder of the drink in his glass. "That's why you're so good at flirting? You've had time to practice?"

He coughed a little bit as he set his empty glass down on the bar top. "Babydoll, I'm fifteen years older than you."

"So?" you asked, pulling another perfect pint for him. "You don't want to flirt with me?"

"Now wait, that's not what I'm saying at all. Just surprised you don't want to flirt with someone your own age."

"I don't like boys my age," you told him fearlessly. "I like men."

"Oh, hell," he groaned, taking a long sip of his fresh beer. "Just look at you. You're gonna get yourself in trouble if you don't find a nice guy."

He looked flustered now. You were making Lieutenant Bradshaw flustered. His cheeks were pink, and he kept sipping his beer, avoiding your gaze. He looked adorable and boyish, and you didn't know quite what to do about this. Or about the fact that talking to him was making you wet. 

"Hmmm," you hummed, and his eyes met yours immediately. "Are you a nice guy?"

"Fuck," he groaned, adjusting himself in his seat. "Sometimes."

"You're always pretty sweet to me," you whispered. "What's it like when you're not a nice guy, Rooster?"

You wanted to touch him for more than a few fleeting seconds. After six months, you thought you were going to. His long, thick fingers were just resting there in front of you. But then Fanboy came to the bar and asked you to close out his tab. And then you had to help Lizzy pour a massive round of shots. And then when Rooster asked you to close out his tab as well, you did it with a pout on your lips. 

As you slid his credit card, the slip he needed to sign, and a pen across the bar, he smiled at you. "Aww, come on. Don't give me that look. You know how it is."

"I don't, actually," you replied, watching him sign the credit card receipt for you. "How is it?"

He looked up and studied your face. "You're too perfect to mess with, Babydoll. Too young. Too pretty to touch."

You chewed on your lip and squeezed your thighs together. You had to know. Your voice was soft and unsure as you asked him, "Do you wanna touch me?"

He didn't meet your eyes again as he scribbled on the receipt and then left it and the pen for you to collect. He stood up from his stool, gave a quick salute to his friends and then headed for the door. 

You moaned helplessly. You blew it. He thought you were just a kid, and you never stood a chance. And now he'd probably never even look at you again. 

But when you picked up the receipt, you read one word written there under his name. YES.

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

When you strolled into the bar the next evening, you got right to work. You had no idea if Rooster would show up, and you weren't sure if you even wanted to see him or not. You'd torn off the bottom of his credit card slip and taken it home with you. That little scrap of paper on which he'd admitted he wanted to touch you was hanging on your bedroom mirror. But it was the fact that he was probably never going to touch you, even though he was more than welcome to, that was making you frustrated. 

"What's wrong with you?" Lizzy asked as she arrived a minute later. "You look hot."

You glanced down at your Hard Deck top, denim skirt and beat up sneakers. "I look the same as I always do," you told her, continuing to dump buckets of ice into the cooler behind the bar. 

"Maybe it's your makeup," she replied. "I think you're hoping Rooster comes in tonight."

You rolled your eyes. "I always hope he's going to be here. He's pretty. I like looking at him."

"I'm not going to dispute that," Lizzy said as she cut up the lemons again tonight. "But I think you actually like him. Not just the way he looks."

You didn't respond, because it didn't matter. You'd keep the flirtation to a minimum the next time you saw him. The last thing you wanted to do was make him think you were desperate. He wanted to touch you? He could go right ahead. But you weren't about to beg him to.

As the bar got crowded, Jasmine showed up as well. The three of you got into a nice rhythm. A lot of the aviators were back again tonight, and you were serving them drink after drink. And then it was like you knew he was there before you saw him. After you handed a couple their drinks, your eyes automatically shifted toward the doorway, finding it filled with Rooster's big body. And he was already looking at you. 

"You want me to wait on him?" Lizzy asked you softly as Rooster approached the bar. 

But you just shook your head and reached for two different glasses, holding them up as he took a seat in front of you. When he pointed to the pint glass, he said, "Lager. Please."

"Sure," you replied, setting the smaller glass aside and pulling a perfect pint of beer for him. "Start a tab?"

"Nah, I'm not staying long tonight," he told you as you placed the beer in front of him without meeting his gaze. "Just wanted to see you and get one drink."

"Mmkay," you said. But when you pulled your hand away, he reached for it. 

Stunned, you let him take your hand in his large one, and then he asked, "Does this mean you're done flirting with the old man now? You got it all out of your system yesterday?" His eyes were guarded, cautious, and he held onto your hand, expecting an answer. 

You shook your head slowly, running your fingertips along his rough calluses. "I was just getting started."

A crooked little smile danced across his lips. "I am too old for you, Babydoll. And it's a shame."

Your heart jumped in your chest, hand still tangled up with his on the bar top. You could hear Lizzy and Jasmine working extra hard to take all the orders, trying to give you a moment here. So you smiled back. "You think you're old. So what? You expect me to call you Daddy?"

"Shit," he grunted, squirming a bit in his seat but keeping your hand in his.

When he didn't respond right away, you leaned a little closer, one eyebrow raised. "I asked you a question."

His eyes were wide, and that little grin was back. "I could be a... Daddy. Maybe for the right girl."

You pulled your hand free of his and planted both palms on the bar top and leaned closer to him. "And just how is a girl supposed to know if she's the right one?"

But his cheeks were tinged with pink once again, and he looked flustered. It was flattering, such an ego boost. You were the one who made him like this. But he wasn't responding now, and you needed to help Jas pour some chardonnay for the impatient ladies at the end of the bar. You sighed and said, "Well, I work until eleven. So just think on it."

But he wouldn't let you leave. Rooster reached for your hand again, but this time he was the one leaning closer. "The right girl would be one that I can't seem to stay away from. You said you work until eleven?"

"Yes," you replied softly, his large hand completely covering yours on the bar top.

"Right. Then ask me again if I want to start a tab."

You pressed your lips together, trying not to giggle. "Would you like to start a tab, Rooster?"

"You're damn right I would, Babydoll. I can't get enough of you. Think I'll just hang here until eleven. If that's okay with you."

This time you did giggle. "Yeah. That's okay with me." As he pulled his wallet out and handed you his credit card, you asked, "Bourbon or lager?"

"Make it a Manhattan."

"I've been told these drinks are for people in their seventies," you said with a straight face as you reached for the vermouth, secretly pleased he wanted your favorite. "You're only thirty eight."

"Listen," he said, watching you fix his drink. "You said you don't like boys your own age. And maybe I'm a little older than you, but all the parts are still in working order."

You felt giddy. When you set the glass down in front of him, you couldn't help but ask, "Does that mean you'll let me take you for a test drive?" 

You had to work to keep an innocent expression on your face as Bradley's blush deepened. He took a sip of his Manhattan, licked his lips and said, "I don't do test drives anymore."

"Oh," you said with a little pout. "You don't?"

"No," he replied a bit cautiously, taking another sip of his cocktail. "I'm getting too old for that. I like at least a little bit of commitment from the driver. Don't wanna feel like I'll get dinged up."

You shivered at his words, mesmerized by his voice and his demeanor as he looked down into his glass. Could you do more than a test drive? Of course you'd thought about it. You were crushing so hard, you'd imagined what it would be like if he was your boyfriend. But you'd barely even let yourself hope for a one night stand. Even that much seemed too good to be true.

"Oh," you said again in a softer tone. When he glanced up, his dark eyes were no longer guarded, and he was looking at you warily. Without giving it much thought, you pushed up onto the bar and leaned until he met you halfway in a kiss. It was just the softest brush of your lips against his. But the sound he made and the prickle of his mustache on your skin left you wide eyed and out of breath as you eased yourself back down. "No. You're too handsome to get all dinged up. I'm a great driver."

"Yeah," he said with a little laugh. "I can already tell. And that's what I was afraid of last night. There's just something about you, isn't there?"

"You have a thing for me?" you asked him, gripping the edge of the bar top. "Because I definitely have a thing for you." You had stopped breathing now, and your heart was pounding in your ears. 

With a little grin, he said, "Yeah, I do, Babydoll."

"Well, what are we going to do about it, Daddy?" you asked with another giggle as Jasmine thrust a bottle of prosecco into your hands. 

"We're going to go out my Bronco the minute your shift is over. We'll figure it out there." 

You nearly dropped the bottle when you met his eyes. "A quickie?" you asked softly, but you were sure he heard you.

"No," he groaned, running his big palm along his mouth and shaking his head at you. Then he finished the rest of his Manhattan in one gulp and pushed the glass your way. "Nothing about this is gonna be quick. I'd like to take my time, especially with someone as perfect as you."

You sounded like a feral animal, thighs clenched together and gripping the bottle of prosecco with both hands. 

"Shit," Rooster grunted. "You're making it hard to just sit here, Babydoll."

"Hard?" you asked with a grin. 

"You'll find out."

After another embarrassing noise, you had to excuse yourself to the other end of the bar for a few minutes. Jesus, you needed to keep your job, after all. But his eyes followed you everywhere. Any time you looked his way, he was transfixed on you. When you pulled a pint of lager and set it down for him, he whispered, "Thanks, Babydoll," sending shivers along your skin again. 

"Anything else you want, Rooster?" you asked him sweetly. 

His gaze dipped down to your chest before returning to your face. "Nothing I'm allowed to have inside the bar."

"At least not when we're open to the public, sir," you replied, giving him a little salute that had him reaching for you across the bar. But you managed to skirt away from his grasp with another laugh. 

"You coming back over here?" he asked between sips of his beer. "I didn't get a chance to ask you if you'll make me a Bloody Mary for breakfast tomorrow morning."

"Breakfast?"

"Yeah. Breakfast," he confirmed with a smile. "At my place?"

You pressed your lips together to keep from screaming. "So since this isn't a test drive, what are my options, exactly? Am I looking at a lease? A financing package?"

"I'm sure you'll know what you want to do when the time comes. And I'm going to need you to stop saying package right now."

"Just go," Jasmine told you suddenly. "It's after ten, and you're useless. You and he have had hours of foreplay already. Go."

"Are you sure?" you asked, already reaching for your bag and Rooster's credit card.

"Yes," Lizzy confirmed. Then she looked at Rooster who was already standing up and told him, "Pay your tab next week. And get her out of here."

"My pleasure," he rasped, and you practically ran for the opening in the bar, ducking underneath the counter. And when you stood up again, he was right there. He was so tall and broad, and with a coy smile, you slipped his credit card into the pocket of his jeans. When your fingers trailed closer to his zipper, he grabbed your wrist gently. 

"Just checking for myself to make sure all the parts are working," you mused as he raised your hand up to his lips and kissed your knuckles gently. In the middle of the crowded bar. Then he wrapped your fingers around the back of his neck, and you pulled him down for a kiss. 

He kept it pretty clean as he promised, "Wait until we get outside."

"Now," you demanded, pulling him along behind you by his shirt collar. As soon as the cool, night air met your hot skin, he had your bare thighs in his hands, and your back was pressed against the side of the building. "Oh my god," you gasped. Your body was pinned between the siding and Rooster, and the rough denim of his jeans was rubbing you deliciously through your underwear. 

"I told you I'm not going to rush," he whispered, pressing into you as you held onto his shoulders. He teased you with that delicious mustache and his lips on your neck before he kissed your ear and said, "Now, I'm gonna need verbal confirmation, Babydoll."

"Yes!" you nearly shouted. "Everything!"

He chuckled next to your ear and asked, "You wanna fuck in my Bronco?"

"Yes," you moaned so loudly, you were sure Jasmine and Lizzy could hear you. 

"I don't have any condoms with me," he said, looking you in the eye. "Do we need them?"

"No, I'm clean, and I take the pill," you said, leaning in to kiss his lips. He tasted you, running the tip of his tongue along yours before pulling his lips away. 

You whined for him, but he was undeterred. "I need you to tell me that you'll come home with me and make me that Bloody Mary in the morning while I make you breakfast."

He already wanted you to sleep over with him. He wanted to make you breakfast. He didn't want to have a one night stand. He was waiting for an answer. "You'll have to let me know if you want it traditional or extra spicy."

"Fuck," he grunted before his lips came crashing against yours. His big hands held your thighs wide as he rolled his hips gently against you. 

"Rooster," you moaned against his lips as he let you gently slide down his body until your feet hit the ground. 

"Please call me Bradley," he whispered as he wrapped his hand around your waist and quickly guided you across the dark parking lot. 

When you saw the Bronco, you ran the last little bit hand in hand. His laughter mixed with yours as he unlocked the door. "Come on, Bradley," you sang, looking up at him over your shoulder before climbing up onto the driver's seat on your hands and knees. "Do you wanna touch me?"

"Babydoll," he moaned, keeping you still as he guided your skirt up over your butt and around your waist. You cried out as he kissed the backs of your thighs. He slipped his fingers inside the thin strips of lace fabric that made up your thong, and you couldn't ever remember being this turned on before. 

"Bradley!" you gasped loudly when his lips and tongue met the globe of your rear end. He slid the lace to one side and kissed your slit from behind until you were panting. You might cum. You might actually have an orgasm on your hands and knees with your ass in his face. Boys your own age couldn't get you like this no matter what they did.

He gently swatted at you before palming your ass and saying, "Get in the backseat."

Oh yes. He was about to show you what else his age and experience had to offer, and you were already shaking with need. "Yes, sir," you whispered, and you heard him mutter a string of obscenities as you scrambled onto the backseat. As he slid the driver's seat forward and climbed in the back, you carefully pulled your underwear down your thighs. He helped you and then pressed the lace to his nose before pulling you onto his lap. 

"I've thought about this so many times when I touched myself," you blurted out as he teased your clit with his thumb. "Bronco sex," you whined, head tipped back, enjoying the perfect pressure he applied to your body. "Bronco sex with Bradley Bradshaw."

"Forgive me, Babydoll," he whispered, voice harsh. "But last night was the first time I jerked off thinking about you. Too afraid to go there before that, thinking there was no way in hell you'd want me."

"I want you," you swore, meeting his eyes in the near darkness. If anyone else was out in the parking lot, you couldn't see them. And you didn't care if they could see you, because he was slipping one thick finger inside you. "Wanted you for so long. Months and months."

"Jesus, you're tight," he groaned, sliding your snug top up to your chest as you rode his hand. "And you skipped a bra tonight like a good girl."

"Bradley," you gasped as he cupped your bare breast in his big hand. He lazily swirled his thumb around your nipple before bending to take you into his mouth. "Oh my god!" 

Your orgasm was already building. You had only been in the backseat with him for a few minutes, and he was still fully clothed. But now you were riding two fingers, and his thumb was delicious against your clit. As he licked and sucked on your breast, you started to clench. 

"Damn," he muttered against your body. "Already?"

You just nodded before guiding his lips up to yours, and you came as you moaned loudly against his mouth. "Bradley." You raked your fingers up into his hair and kissed him. He was hard through his jeans, and when he withdrew his fingers, you felt them trail up your body. 

"You're so pretty," he whispered, pulling your top over your head. "You'll look even better in my bed."

You wanted him to fuck you here first, but you'd be lying if you said you hadn't already thought about his place and what he might make you for breakfast. And as you sat straddled his hips in nothing but your skirt up around your waist and your sneakers on your feet, you felt adored by him. He was kissing a trail down between your breasts and rubbing his thumbs along your thighs. 

"Bradley," you whined, rubbing your pussy against his jeans, already feeling a little wrung out. "Please."

The street light at the corner reflected in his eyes, letting you know he was looking at your face as he raised his hips and unzipped his jeans. And a few seconds later, they were down around his knees along with his underwear. Your lips met his as you felt the velvety soft tip of his cock resting against your core. As you kissed him and tugged on his hair, he throbbed for you. And suddenly you weren't in such a hurry either. 

"Let me make you feel good," he whispered, and as you slid down around him, Bradley guided you with his hands on your hips. "You're so wet, my god."

"You always make me wet, even when you just talk to me at the bar," you admitted softly, your voice shaking as he kept pushing deeper inside you. "Oh. You're huge."

"Am I hurting you?" he asked, pausing where he was. But you just shook your head and rolled your hips slowly until he was completely inside you. He kissed you softly as you gasped and got used to him. "I don't wanna hurt this sweet pussy," he whispered next to your ear. "Perfect."

And then he brushed his knuckles along your clit and leaned his head back, watching as you rode him. "Take it off," you gasped, and he let you push his shirt down his arms and pull his tank over his head. You explored his broad chest with your hands and his shoulders with your lips. He was warm and rough and oh so sweet. His chest hairs brushed against your nipples as he guided your hips with his hands.

"Bradley?"

"Hmm?" 

You wrapped your hands around his neck and kissed his lips. "Fuck. So good." He felt delicious, his big hands everywhere, sliding up to span your back and keep you close. He fucked you in long, fluid movements that just got faster and faster. His pubes were coarse against your clit. His little grunts and words of praise kept you going as you started squeezing around his cock.

"Don't stop, Babydoll," he coaxed as you got closer. When his lips met your sweat slick chest again, and he pulled your nipple between his teeth, you came for him.

"Oh!" 

As your legs shook and your fingers went loose in his hair, Bradley fucked up into you until you were screaming his name. 

"Good girl," he grunted, and suddenly you were on your back along the seat with your legs spread wide. He fucked you with long, hard strokes that made your tits bounce and prolonged your orgasm. His lips were everywhere, and you were surrounded by his voice in the dark, holding onto his biceps as he came inside you.

You scrambled to get your mouth on his as you both caught your breath together, and as your heartbeat started to return to normal, you pressed a dozen soft kisses to his lips, one after the next. "Will you take me home?"

His hands stilled on your thigh and your neck. "Yeah," he said with a tone of sadness. "I can drop you off at home."

When he started pulling away without so much as another kiss, you reached for him, keeping him firmly inside you. "No, no. Take me home with you, Bradley."

"My place?" His voice was still soft, but it sounded hopeful now.

"Of course," you reassured him, and his kisses returned. "I'll spend the whole morning tomorrow making you Bloody Marys with little heart shaped garnishes."

He smiled against your lips before he said, "I'd like that, Babydoll."

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

The Hard Deck was pretty busy the following evening, and you were so physically exhausted from your night with Bradley, you could barely keep up. The Sunday crowd was keeping you on your toes, and Jasmine wouldn't stop asking you how your night ended. 

"Did you go home with him? You did. I can tell," she said as you just shrugged at all of her questions. "Are you going to see him again? Come on! Tell me!"

When you saw movement on the other side of the bar top, Jasmine's eyes went wide. "Hey, babydoll." The deep rumble of his voice was so distinct, you didn't need to look at him to know it was Bradley. He had whispered dirty, sweet things in your ears all night and all morning. You knew the sound of his voice by heart now.

When your eyes met his, you reached for a pint glass and filled it with his favorite beer. "Hey, Bradley. Wanna start a tab?" you asked with a soft smile.

You giggled as he reached for your hand and tugged you closer. Then he leaned across the bar and kissed you as his nose brushed against yours. "For you? Always. And don't close the tab until your shift ends."

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

No more test drives. I'm sure she's already considering her options to make him hers permanently. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32. Also, the pretty banner was made by Mak!

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[stars-for-circe]

Bones and All - Part 1

Part 1, Part 2 - wip

Tags / cw: Cannibal!reader x Vampire!Ellie, reader is a psychopath, Ellie is over 100 but physically 23, reader is around 27-30, reader is sophisticated/classy, gore, blood, suggestive, dark themes - read at your discretion, murders, drugging, cannibalism, reader is rich

On Monday, you were reckless. Starved. It had been three days since you had last feasted. And even now, after catching a meal, it was only a leg. The poor victim crawling away in agony as you dined on his limbs. And when he dared to pause his escape, to look back at the sight of you tearing through flesh with your teeth - your white cocktail dress now wine red, drenched with his life - he screamed.

"Y-you fucking monster!" He was dry heaving at this point, saliva and snot and tears dripping out as his body tried to keep itself alive.

You merely turned to look at him, and grinned - bearing your red teeth.

"And what did your wife call you? When you hit her? When you killed her?"

He whimpered in realisation. This, this wasn't some random attack. This was planned, methodical. This was karma. Whatever god that ruled above had breathed a purpose into you, as a vessel of retribution. You simply took back what your victims stole. A life for a life.

"Darling, don't act so righteous. You and I? We are no different." You were almost patronising, void of any empathy, any remorse.

He promptly passed out. Either from the blood loss or the shock - or both, you considered - it made cleaning up easier when the mess wasn't screaming for help. Unfortunately, the pill you slipped into his glass didn't work for long. You realised as such when you noticed his brows scrunch as you dragged him out of your car and into the forest. God, there was so much blood. Painting the forest floor, the fallen Winter leaves now reflecting the colour of Autumn. It was nauseating.

And usually, you were meticulous. In choosing your victims (who were always as evil as you, in their crimes, their abuses), in luring them out of hiding, in drugging them until you killed. You made sure to be inviting, enticing, making them eager to have dinner at your manor, or drinks at a quiet bar.

Of course, dining at home was easier for you to slip something in their food, but most bars were dark enough for a dissolving pill to go unnoticed. And sometimes you enjoyed going out - the thrill of possibly getting caught, the clouded eyes of your victims thinking you were taking them to bed. Well, you did, but it was to their deathbed, rather.

You would undress them, bathe them, even talk to them. Because who knows? Maybe they could still hear you in their dreams, amidst all the drugs in their system. Then, in a bathtub filled halfway with warm water, you would slit their throat. And you would let them drain until there wasn't any blood left. Because unlike your other, more famous peers, you hated blood. Its metallic taste on your tongue oh-so unpleasant, when you'd rather savour the other delicacies in humans.

But this time, you had no choice. The son of a bitch woke up halfway home. You had to take a detour into the forestry surrounding the manor. You had to eat. You couldn't wait any longer. That sense of panicked urgency now overtaking your ravenous hunger. And as the drugs wore off, he was thankfully still weak enough to drag outside, and leave laying against a tree. But as the drugs wore off, he screamed and begged for his life when the glint of your knife shone under the moonlight.

You just begged for some peace and quiet while having dinner. But, some dreams would only remain dreams. And he would remain screaming as the knife sunk in.

So that night, you ate. A disgusting, bloody meal. But a meal nonetheless. It tasted horrible, but it would last you another few days - it was enough for now. The creatures of the forest would eat the rest.

On Monday, Ellie smelled the blood. It was fresh.

On Tuesday, Ellie found the source. 7 miles away, in some forest in the middle of nowhere. Wolves, surrounding a carcass of what was once a man, now just fertiliser. The leaves, damp from early morning fog, squelched under her feet as she got closer. And vampires, being at the top of the food chain, bowed to no-one. The wolves ran away at the sight of her.

"Holy shit..."

It was missing a fucking leg. A clean cut - the wolves weren't this clean in hunting. And it couldn't be because of the wolves - they never attacked people. This was a body, left in the forest, missing a fucking leg - and Ellie didn't know why.

For a moment, she suspected another vampire in her territory. This was in the outskirts after all, maybe they didn't recognise her markings. But vampires didn't do this. They were discrete - which was part of the reason why it was so difficult to hunt in this era, with the amount of fucking CCTV everywhere. Ellie herself hadn't eaten in weeks. This? This was a fucking mess. There were clothes thrown everywhere, the body was still identifiable, and the smell reached miles on every side.

But most importantly, there was blood. So much blood. And Ellie was a vampire, for fucks sake. Another vampire wouldn't kill for no reason - and this looked like the blood was avoided on purpose. Her mouth watered. Fuck, it was unintentional - this was so gruesome she could have thrown up at the sight. But the coat of fresh blood spread everywhere made her wish the body was still alive - still warm.

So Ellie was confused. And honestly? She was really fucking spooked, too. This forest was quiet - eerie even. There were no birds singing, no crickets chirping, even though they should have been wide awake. It screamed of danger, even to her. Vampires were predators, but for some reason, Ellie felt like prey. Her leg started twitching, begging her to run out of this place, lest it be next.

So she got out of there as fast as she could, in whatever direction was in front of her. The fog, still cold and damp, blanketed both the forest floor and herself, and Ellie couldn’t tell if it was the temperature or nervous that send the chill down her spine - but she ran. And after an hour, spent narrowly missing hidden branches and rocks (No, she didn't trip), she found a break in the clearing. Thank god.

Wait, was that a manor?

…

She ran the wrong way.

"Son of a-"

"Fuck these fucking forests and their fucking trees and their fucking rocks and houses-" She kicked a nearby tree, breaking the trunk in half. Then a rock, then the dirt. The volume of her yelling caused the birds to fly out of the trees. She glared at them, and then ran back to the proper way out. Fuck the blood for smelling so enticing.

On Tuesday, You heard commotion in the clearing near your house. But no human dared to come near, so you blamed it on the wild animals.

On Wednesday, You built an appetite. But so did Ellie. And this time, you were prepared.

On your bedside table sat a sugar bowl, a vintage style of ornate - only the sweets worthy enough deserved to be held within. It was rather beautiful, as the early morning sun gently reflected off the edge of it. It garnered your attention, as you slowly woke up. And slowly, as you leaned against the headboard of your bed, and reached over to sit it on your lap, your mouth watered at the promise of the treats inside. Today was the day.

You took the little gold lid off, eyeing the candy inside. Each piece wrapped in a different type of paper than the last. You licked your lips tentatively - what would you fancy today? Gooseberry? No, you had that one two days ago. How about Grapefruit instead? A tough choice to make, given the amount of flavours to choose from. Gently, your fingers circled the rim of the bowl, tracing the intricacies drawn onto the china, before you dipped your hand into the bowl and pulled a piece out at random.

The pastel green wrapper crinkled as you unwrapped it, before popping the candy in your mouth and closing your eyes as you savoured its taste. Green apple - an old favourite of yours. Though, it had definitely been a while since you last had that one in particular, because they were always the hardest to catch. Hidden in the ridges and bumps of the bowl, seen rarely, and chosen even lesser. Hm, you had your work set out for you tomorrow.

You clenched your fist in contemplation, and felt a poke from the crinkled wrapper still in your hands. You almost forgot. And at your favourite part nonetheless! You sat your self up, now cross legged on the bed as you unfolded the wrapper in anticipation. It was silent for a moment, as you raised a brow, absorbing the information in front of you.

Oh?

Written, in small font, was her information. Her age, her name, her crime. A lovely choice. And it was ironic, that out of all the ways she would be punished for it, you were her executioner. How cyclical, you thought. But never mind that, for she was just another victim to get rid of - nothing more, nothing less. You bit down on the candy, breaking it inside your mouth. It’s sour taste clouding your senses as you contemplated your methods. And yet, it would be a shame not to have fun with this one, after all, it wasn't often you feasted on one of her kind.

'Ellie Williams, 23, vampire.'

A dinner party at your manor would suffice, to lure her into your clutches, and to celebrate your forthcoming victory.

On Wednesday, Ellie was reckless. Starved. 3 weeks since she had last fed - and she was ready to do anything for another taste.

Taglist: @bready101 @elliewilliamsblunt @aouiaa @strangehuman101 @lov3lylotus @wishbones999 @seraphicsentences @les4elliewilliams @happysparklingshadows @irelandzo @r3starttt @iamaboringrattat @genderfluidlesbain999 @slut4mascss @rxreaqia @kylorey25 @massivepeacefemme @elliewilliamsfavborderhopper @ratdungeon @elxarw @mariasabanahabanabana @vvynia @abbyshands @littlegingerperson5 @flowersforvi

[tojis-favorite]

Speechless

Your and Toji’s relationship was not a perfect one. You two were on and off, always arguing about the pettist things, so you took it upon yourself to suggest a break. There was no way you guys were going to break out of this cycle without some type apart to breathe.

Toji hated this; he was always checking up on you, sending you money out of nowhere. It didn't help that his friends were your biggest ops (not really lol). Let you even stand near another guy and it's being reported back to him within the hour.

That is exactly what was the case tonight. Your friend had done some serious convincing for you to go to this kickback that one of her friends was throwing. Deciding why not you got dressed, drank a little liquor and were now walking into the crowded house.

“Bitch this is not a kickback everyone and their mama is here.” You huffed out irritated already knowing one of Toji’s friends might be in the building. “You need to live who gives a fuck if there here.” She said dragging you deeper into the crowds of people.

Unknown to you, someone had already spotted you being one of tojis friend’s Geto (a/n omg imagine.) “Gojo do you see what I see?” Turning his head he sees you and your friend being approached by two guys getting ready to hit on you. Already having his phone out Gojo goes to his camera, snapping a picture of you smiling as the guy puts his hand on your lower back.

Sending it to Toji with the address attached he shows Geto his phone and they both laugh and continue to enjoy the party.

It has been well over forty minutes since you got to the party and you did not regret coming; you were meeting new people and you were having fun doing so. But you were hot and you knew you probably looked a mess due to the constant drinks you have been given to by your best friend.

“I need to go to the bathroom!” You exclaimed to your friend in the loud room and she gave you a thumbs up before walking behind you to look for the bathroom. “I can take her.” A deep voice chimed in and you side-eye your best friend to make sure she heard the same thing.

“Girl say the word and we’ll jump him right now.’’ She said seriously in her drunken state, shaking her head and saying “No it’s fine, i’ll be back.” You walk toward the staries to the bathroom. “Geto you guys make sure her friend is okay until we get back, make sure she drinks some water.” Toji told his two friends before making his way behind you.

Entering the bathroom first Toji follows behind you and closes the door locking it. Crossing his arms together the first thing he says is “This is what we're doing now?” Confused, you reply “What?” Toji tilts his head “What? Were we just letting random strangers in our face?” He said, mocking your voice.

“Toji don’t start this, I'm single-” “No you're not” his strong voice cuts in “You never have been and you never will be, no other person is going to take care of you the way I do and no other person can make you feel the way I do.”

Walking toward you he lifts you up on the bathroom sink and stands in between your legs. “When are you going to stop playing and come back to me?” You didn't know if it was the liquor in your system or if it was the way he said it (a/n it was both lmao) but you were feeling some type of way.

You did miss him and the in between of your legs were tingling… he must have known because he reached under your dress/skirt and put his fingers inside of you. “Your not wear any panties ethier I should fucking kill you.” He whispered in your ear as you leaned back into the mirror, mouth open as silent moans came out of your mouth.

Bending down Toji got on his knees as he circled his lips around your clit with his tongue and fingers going at the same pace. “Fuck Toji keep going please.” You begged pushing your hips deeper into his face causing him to groan with a mouth full of your pussy.

Going faster he shakes his head side to side as you felt his hair tickling the inside of your thighs. Grabbing his head you move your hips to feel your release approaching as your whole body starts to shake.

Put in a split second you feel nothing. The knot in your stomach is no longer there. Toji fingers were no longer inside of you and his mouth was no longer giving you pleasure.

“Come on Ms. Single lady I need to get you and your bestie home.” Toji smirks as he pulls you off of the counter and pushes you toward the door

Leaving you unfinished and speechless.

Sorry for being gone for so long a lot was happening in my personal life. I do have a surprise for next month so stay tuned!

I low key wanna start writing for Connie from aot should I?

Part 2???