william crowther (committed desecration of tasmanian Aboriginal man William Lanne’s corpse) statue cut down in lutruwita/tasmania last night :) some years after the council agreed to take it down
Warnings: Degradation and Praise, head/oral-R giving, exhibitionism, hints at an innocence kink, hair pulling, pinch of dummification and more I'm sure I've missed but yeah. Smutty
Sum: You’re a bartender at a prestigious club when a fire haired woman arrives who can’t seem to keep her eyes off you.
A/N: Ok ok i'm not really sure what happened to me but this is a completely different Natasha than what I'd normally write, I'm not even sure if I like this version of her :\ -oh and ignore the rough start…..or all of it, I think it’s shit.
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You noticed her as soon as she came through the doors. Fire red hair, short and neat like the smile she offered, and forest green eyes that tore daggers with a glance.
She seemed to notice you as she entered but didn't make it obvious; You had never seen her before but felt like you owed her something just to be near.
“Your strongest please.” She spoke with a velvet tongue and you found yourself lost in it.
“Oh, I'm sorry, what did you want?” you blushed, turning red just from eye contact.
“Distracted darling?” she purrs at you.
“Yes I'm sorry, strongest was it? Right away.” you mutter, making quick work of preparing her drink and passing it to her.
You couldn't help staring at her long fingers taking the glass, her vibrant red polish perfectly complementing her hair and choice of attire. She must have noticed your staring; she ran a slim digit around the rim of her glass while her eyes locked with yours.
“Pretty thing, aren’t you?” she whispers almost seductively. You’re sure she notices the blush forming on your cheeks and slight twitch of your thighs.
She takes the glass between her lips sipping the liquid slowly, all whilst your eyes stay locked, her light pant when she puts the glass down sends a chill down your spine and admittedly to your cunt; you can’t remember the last time anyone made you feel this way, so hot and nervous.
You're clearly doing a great job of hiding your fluster from the woman.
“No.” you say almost too quickly and she raises an eyebrow but continues to mind her own, and turns back to her drink.
Before you can speak to her again like you’d wish, more people come through the doors, they all want drinks and it's your job to make them. Person after person, drink after drink. You serve them all, taking every opportunity you get to steal stares at the red haired woman.
She sits in silence at the counter observing things near, particularly you. She watches the way you move about, the way your hands pour and stir the beverages, the way your mouth moves when you take the next order, she’s enthralled with you.
You sigh as more orders come in, “more drinks, more ice” you mutter rolling your sleeves to head to the back room, a closed bar you hope to steal spare ice from.
only you didn’t notice the shadow behind.
What followed next was a blur, how you ended up in the back room with her leaning against the doorway was a complete haze, that had your heart beating out of your chest.
“Something got you all flustered, baby?” She says with feigned concern, when you notice her presence. A devious look of something comes over her face and glints in her eyes.
“I could destroy a sweet thing like you.”
She’s different now you're alone, she can say what she thinks.
“I'm sorry” you whisper “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Oh I think you do, darling.”
Your eyes dart down her for a moment to the place you can't stop thinking about, You of course know what she means but never thought she’d be so blunt.
“Such a dumb thing” she sighs getting even closer, so that your almost touching.
Her intending words are like an accelerant to your body and your thighs rub slightly together, in search for the friction you so crave.
She feigned surprise at your flustered expression,
“You’d make such a cute, little slut, for me.”
Did she just call you a little slut?-
She seemed to read your face with terrifying ease.
“Something wrong, pet? She pouts “Does my sweet girl not like being called a little slut?” she glares at you expectantly for a reply, those lake deep eyes staring straight through you.
“No…I do” you’re quick to avert your gaze realising what you just let slip.
“No need to be embarrassed about it, baby. I love innocent things like you.” She cups your cheek comfortably, running her thumb lightly over your bottom lip.
“So cute.” She breathes, pulling you to look at her, and meeting your face with a soft kiss that has you weak at the knees. She smirks at the lack of resistance you have, when her tongue pushes past your lips.
You note the prominent burn of alcohol that lingered in her mouth, the slow yet powerful way you melted into submission under her touch.
Your breath hitched and felt your arousal heighten to an embarrassing degree. When she finally pulled away leaving you a panting, red mess the last thing you expected was to be shoved forcefully and fast onto your knees.
You gasp but that only seems to widen the smirk embedded on her face. Sinful thoughts have your head spinning; quickly brought back to reality when strong hands find your hair forcing your face to look in front and nowhere else.
she let her hand dip down, pulling up her tight dress back to her hips and suddenly your faced with her bare sex.
Your jaw gapes open at her lack of coverage and you wonder how long she's been like this-
“See something you like, baby?” she coos letting her hand slip further and delicate fingers run down her slit. You hear the change of her breathing, the further she goes, but don't dare to avert your eyes. Her slim digits slide quickly through her noticeably drenched folds causing you to choke back a moan at the sight.
“God you already got me so wet.” she groans, pulling away her hand and without a second word sliding her slick coated fingers into your open mouth. You moaned helplessly at how good she tasted, sucking and licking her digits clean with a prominent urgency.
“Such a good girl, I wonder what else that tongue can do?” she purrs, pulling her digits from your mouth with a pop and wiping the drool left on your jaw.
Her grasp in your hair tightens and you’re quickly being forced towards her sex.
“Shall we see slut?” She pulls you forward again now inches from where she wanted you. Your head was a thumping mess of thoughts, but your cunt was on fire. You placed your hands on her thighs earning a slight smirk of approval as you moved in closer, your warm breath teased her skin.
Your burning desire for her takes over and you swiped a line through her dripping folds, collecting her sweet arousal on your tongue and moaning at the way she reacts. Your lips close around her clit sucking and lavishing the hardened bud. Your hands slide across her porcelain thighs and the teasing from your tongue causes her to lose focus.
Her pull on your hair is dizzying but at the same time only makes you want her more. Her quiet groans became loud, breathy moans, that have you suddenly aware of just how wet you are.
The sinful praise that drips from her lips, mutters of “Fuck yes.” “Mommy's good girl-” and “God right there.” get obscenely louder and you loved the fact that you caused it.
Focusing your attention on her most sensitive part, you slid one hand up her inner thigh meeting her heat and your fingers quickly finding her entrance. Her hips twitch at the sudden intrusion and her moans get louder, she pushes herself against your teasing digits sinking them deeper, where she wants them most.
Her slick runs down your wrist and coats your tongue. The thought of her being so turned on for you is making your mind a daze.
Your fingers slow, pushing deeper as you start to pump them, her praise at your movements only makes you go faster and combined with your tongue on her engorged clit, you know she's getting close.
Her breath is quick, and her heartbeat quicker, She struggles to get any words out only managing mindless, deep moans that make your own shudder.
You add another finger to her groaning at the stretch, her walls close around your digits and shes frantically close, practically fucking herself. You flick the tip of your tongue over her swollen bud a few more times bringing her to the edge and with a final curl of your fingers she comes undone.
You let her ride out the high before removing your digits. Her breath slows and her paining grip on your hair lets up.
“Fuck…that was….so good”
She composes herself enough to look at you between her legs, the shine of her slick across your lips and jaw, your gaped expression she can’t help but smile at.
“Such a good girl for me, I’d love to have you.” you try to process for a moment what she means but you're cut off by her lips meeting your own, she moans softly tasting herself still fresh in your mouth and cleaning your lips.
“I can’t wait to see you again, pet” she says pulling away and fixing her dress, she seems ready to walk out the door.
“You’re leaving?” you say somewhat stunned, that after everything she could just walk away.
“Yes darling, but I’ll be expecting your visit, I can’t stay away from such a good slut so easy.”
You’re again confused, she can tell and pulls out a slim white card.
“I'll be expecting you darling.” with that she places a kiss to your cheek and leaves before you say another word.
The card in your hand you realise after examination, it’s an address. Then it clicks, what she meant before ‘love to have you’ You know exactly what she wants with you,
hii congrats on 100!!! :D can u maybe do prompt 37 with bachira? if not idm
EVANGELINE'S 100 EVENT (NO LONGER TAKING REQUESTS)
BACHIRA + PROMPT THIRTY-SEVEN, “ARE YOU WEARING MY SHIRT?”
CHARACTERS INCLUDED: bachira meguru
WARNINGS: swearing, like one mention of throwing up, italics are a character’s inner thoughts
A/N: hi hi thank you sm <3 and ofc i can hope u like anon <333
“are you wearing my jersey?”
you jump at the sound of bachira’s voice and your eyes go wide as you see him in the reflection of his bedroom mirror. he’s not supposed to be home until six, what the hell!?
you turn around slowly to face your boyfriend in all his sweaty, post soccer practice glory. “i thought you weren’t supposed to be home for another half hour?” you question him as you attempt (in vain) to cover the jersey that adorned your person.
“we got let out early,” bachira informs you as he sets his duffle bag onto his bedroom floor. “one of the first years threw up on the field.”
you scrunch up your nose in disgust. “ew, gross.”
“i know, right,” bachira snickers. “now, back to my original question- are you, y/l/n y/n, my very wonderful and adorable significant other, or are you not wearing my shirt?”
“it’s uhh … another bachira’s shirt.” you say with a nod, trying your best not to act suspiciously.
“how many other bachira’s do you know that are on a soccer team, go to a school with the same exact name as ours, and have the same exact jersey i do?”
“... a lot.” bachira quirks a eyebrow at you as you sigh defeatedly. might as well tell him, you grumble to yourself.
“your mom let me borrow one of your spare jerseys because i told her i wanted to surprise you at your next game, since i know it was a big one,” you admit sheepishly, a pout painting your face. “not much of a surprise now, i guess,” you complain with a pout.
despite your visible disappointment, your words make a cheshire grin stretch across bachira's face, his eyes lighting up like a kid in a candy store. he feels his heart about to burst at your words.
you really wanted to do that? just for me? he gushes internally. just the thought of it is enough to send bachira to cloud nine and back. twice.
“you are the best significant other ever, c’mere,” bachira exclaims happily as he makes his way towards you, cupping your face so he can lovingly pepper kisses all over you.
“meguruuuu,” you whine playfully, giggling at your boyfriend’s actions.
“you’re way too cute, y/n,” bachira sighs out adoringly before he moves his lips onto yours, placing a loving kiss on them.
