#I'm just fed up and tired and i want all of this to go away

[heartxdecay]

WHY do bad things always have to happen to me so close together like I did not NEED the combo of an acquaintance I was attempting to befriend blowing up at me and threatening to kill themselves over them deciding I said something I didn't (fuck being autistic why does everyone assume I'm inferring things when I'm actually NOT) and then my stalker who I haven't seen in about a year suddenly decides to show up at my place of work and ask MY BOYFRIEND if I was there (he lied and said I wasn't but I still caught a glimpse of him so he might have seen me) which lead to me finding out he never actually moved like he said he was going to which means realistically he could go right back to stalking and harassing me any time he wants. In the span of like 3 days. And of course right now we're like 3 weeks away from the big traumaversary time from when I left the cult + this is the midst of when I was reporting aforementioned stalker last year so I'm already constantly on high alert anyway. So now I'm constantly struggling just to stay awake let alone work and I already had to drop out of school and lie to my parents about it because the condition of me living here is remaining in school which means since I'm not they're going to kick me out if they know. So I can't NOT go to school AND not work especially because I'm trying to save as much money as possible in order to move out of this stupid hellhole of a "family" home where I'm constantly used as a third parent for my younger siblings. But I'm so tired all the time from stress keeping me awake at all hours and being completely unable to leave fight or flight mode when awake that I can barely find the energy to move, and my work is extremely tiring. I work retail as a supervisor and I have to deal with my coworkers not doing as much of the workload despite all being full time while I'm part time, none of the people I'm in charge of taking me seriously because I'm either younger than them or the same age as them, regular stress that comes with working retail and dealing with customers, and a management change that is leading to us getting a notoriously rude + perfectionist manager who I have personally seen throw an actual tantrum over having to do his JOB. Which means I can't afford to be tired and grumpy because I have to remain professional and productive. But every time something slightly off happens I want to burst into tears. Nobody there respects me and it's hard enough to handle when I'm NOT dealing with all of this. And of course because God hates me all of this happened when I decided to try to cut back on constantly vaping so after incident #2 I immediately gave up on that and I honestly think I've been going through cartridges FASTER. It's genuinely such a struggle every day to not relapse on self harm or turn to alcoholism and I'm not sure how much longer I can last. Especially because my literal only IRL support system is my boyfriend, because my parents are worth jack shit, my siblings are children, and my only "friend" in person is an objectively terrible human that I only still have around because they were my FP for a really long time and I have a hard time letting go of that relationship (every time I try I end up running back) and I just KNOW that if I even TRY to breach any of this with them they're either going to hit me with an "oof/yikes" and nothing else or spread my PERSONAL shit to everyone they know INCLUDING my extremely abusive ex that they refuse to totally cut contact with because it's "mean". which means I actually have nobody to turn to except the internet friends in my phone who for one aren't online all the time and have lives but two since they're my ONLY SUPPORT SYSTEM I cannot keep dumping everything on them constantly or I'll overwhelm them. Not to mention they have also had to deal with the acquaintance I mentioned at the start because they're actually THEIR friend, not mine, so if anything it's an even bigger deal to them. This leaves me with only my boyfriend who I already feel shitty enough about given the raging BPD.

[gxtzeizm]

.

[barcaatthemoon]

little one || alexia putellas x child!reader ||

Alexia brings you with her to Barcelona training sessions.

You sat happily kicking your legs back and forth as you waited for your mother's teammates to get on the field. You were dressed up in your little barcelona kit that was an exact replica of what the coaches wore. Unofficially, you were the team's fun coordinator and official motivator. Everybody already knew that you were Alexia's sole reason for being, and making you happy was a good reason to win games.

"Bon dia," you greeted each player as she walked past you. Most of them gave you a high five or fist bump as they repeated the sentiment to you. A few of the girls were special, and the special ones got to hug you or in mapi and pina's cases, toss you up in the air for a bit. Those two were the most fun in your eyes, and you always gave them high marks on your little clipboard. As much as you loved your Mami, she rarely received high marks on the fun clipboard.

Mami's job wasn't to have fun, not even at home. Olga was your fun mom, even though you knew she wasn't really your mom like Alexia was. She was technically just Mami's girlfriend, but you thought she was like your other mother. Olga took care of you, made you good tasting breakfast, picked you up from school some days, and gave you the best goodnight hugs and kisses in the whole entire world, not that you'd ever tell Jenni that.

"Hija, come here, you're getting red," Mami told you. Since you came into practice with her, you'd been out on the field for a couple hours already. At first, you were sleeping, but then the sun became too bright for you to sleep around. You wanted to go inside again where it was cooler and you could nap, but it was more important to spend time with your big friends.

Besides, you knew that if you found the right girl on the right day, you'd get a nap. You scanned around as they practiced to figure out who your target was. Vicky and her group were out immediately, the younger players running around like you did after Lucy and Mapi fed you candies. Mami didn't like you to distract the girls with nap time, so you knew to stay away from her. Irene gave good cuddles, but she didn't look tired. Just as you were about to give up, you noticed Caro yawn.

Caro wasn't your favorite, she wasn't even really one of the special girls who gave you hugs. Mami explained that she wasn't Spanish and that in her country, people weren't as friendly. You thought it was funny that she was girlfriends with Marta, who was one of the friendliest people you had ever met, after Jenni and Leila, of course. Despite all of that, you knew that Caro would be your naptime partner. All you had to do was wait for the perfect moment to arise.

…

"Come on, she's a baby! You can totally curl her," Mapi huffed as Ona struggled to complete her last rep of "Bebita curls" as Mapi called them. "Ugh, let her down. I'll put in an extra set if that's okay with you, Bebita?"

"Actually, I need to find Caroline," you told Mapi. She looked surprised, but let you down anyway. "Oh, and it's okay Ona. Olga doesn't carry me around anymore unless it's piggy back rides. She says I'm too big for her arms now."

"Pssh, they're just weak. Give it time, your Mami will whip her into shape too." With that, Mapi patted you on the butt as she turned you towards where the Scandinavian players were working out together. You felt a little nervous approaching them, they were scarier without their Spanish counterparts. With Mapi, Aitana, and Marta gone, you realized just how big these women were. They were like giants, and despite the fact that you knew they were friendly, they scared you sometimes.

"Ahem, Miss Caroline, will you read my naptime book to me please?" You stood before them with your hands behind your back, fidgeting them silently. Fidgeting like that wasn't a good habit, at least that's what your Mami told you. You thought it was fine, especially since Abuela Eli told you it was normal.

"Go on, it's a big deal," Ingrid told her friend. Caro looked between Ingrid and Frido, who both seemed to share Ingrid's outlook. You were Alexia's baby, and everybody knew that, and normally you flocked to the other Spanish players. Caro felt like she was out of her depth doing this, but she went with you anyway because that was what you wanted.

"What do I do?" Caro asked you. You pointed over to the little spot that was made up for two people to lay down at. It was pretty late in practice, and if you didn't nap here, Mami would make you nap at home when you'd want to play. If you napped here, then you could play games when you got back home with Mami.

"Lay on the big pillow. You can use the blue blanket, I like the yellow one anyway. I'll lay down with you, and then you read my book to me. The English words are hard for me, I can only read Spanish," you told her. Caro nodded and did what you told her to. She wasn't a very good cuddler, but she was warm and didn't push you off of her when you got comfortable. You also liked her voice, and within a few minutes, you were asleep with Caro holding you protectively.

…

Some days, you were completely lost in your own little world. Other days, you watched everyone and everything around you. Today was a watchful day for you. Mami had an away game, so you'd ride with Abuela Eli and Tia Alba to the game. It was in Madrid, and the fans could get rowdy when they saw the Barcelona bus, and Mami hated bringing you that way.

"Hola Mapi," you said nonchalantly. Mapi gasped and looked around with her mouth agape. She was utterly shocked that you had detected her before she had managed to scare you. Nevermind that she had tried that trick countless times before without it actually working well. And the days it did work ended with you crying because Mapi scared you, and Mapi crying because she felt bad.

"Bebita, you must have spider senses for something. It is amazing, but be careful, you don't want to become a robot like your Mami," Mapi teased. She dug her fingers into your sides as you squirmed and laughed. You started to swat her away, and much to your luck and Mapi's chargin, Ingrid came over and interrupted.

"Hi (y/n)," Ingrid greeted you. She was kind of funny in that she rarely called anybody by their nicknames. Ana hadn't been like that, and sometimes you really missed the tall blonde lady, but Mami and Irene let you talk to her on the phone with the promise that you not tell Ingrid or Mapi. Mami didn't want them to get upset, even though they all used to be teammates with each other.

"Hola Ingrid." You leaned your head all the way back to see Ingrid. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead before she joined you on the grass. "Whatcha doing?"

"Sitting with you," Ingrid answered. She tapped the tip of your nose, causing you to erupt into a little fit of giggles. Mapi groaned and muttered something under her breath. You didn't catch most of it, but you definitely heard a couple of words your Mami made you promise not to say until you were much older, and absolutely never in the presence of Eli. "Is that okay, tiny?"

"Yes, I like you Ingrid. You're nice and smell nice," you said. Ingrid laughed, especially once Mapi looked over at the two of you with a weird face.

"You never tell me that I smell nice, Bebita," Mapi huffed. You furrowed your eyebrows and leaned over towards Mapi. Hesitantly, you sniffled, pleasantly surprised that she sort of smelled like Ingrid. You knew it was because she spent a lot of time cuddling with Ingrid or hugging her. Mapi always smelled a little bit like whatever girl she was dating, just like Jenni used to smell like your Mami and Leila had lots of smells.

"You smell a little like Ingrid, but not as good," you told her honestly. Mapi sputtered and huffed, clearly about to start ranting when the big coach's whistle blew for practice to resume. "Play good and have fun. I don't have my checker board today, but I'm watching."

"Aye, aye captain!" Mapi saluted you. Ingrid pressed a kiss to your cheek as a goodbye before she dragged Mapi back over to the rest of the team. You don't know if they actually had fun because you went right back to playing with the grass and occasionally waving at your Mami when she stopped.

…

"Hija, please," Alexia pleaded with you. You had fallen asleep in the film room, and Alexia had hoped to just pass you onto Alba, but things were not going according to plan at all. You wanted to either go home with Olga, who was in Madrid already for work, or Alexia, who wouldn't let you ride all the way to Madrid with her on the team bus. "You can't go with me."

"Then I want Mama!" You were practically sobbing and stomping your feet. People could see you, but they tried to move onto the bus like seeing you so upset didn't break their hearts. "Mama! Mama! Mama! Not you, Mama!"

"What about Tia Alba and Abuela Eli, don't you want to see them too?" Alexia asked. She knelt down in front of you and tried to reach out, but you jerked away like her mere presence offended you. "Hija, I'm not telling you anymore. You're going with Tia Alba to my Mami's. They'll bring you to Madrid tomorrow, and you can see Mama then."

"Ale, look at her. It might be easier to just have Olga pick her up from the hotel," Alba reasoned. "Or, I could go up a night early and she can stay there."

"No, you're not leaving Mami to drive all that way by herself. We made this plan weeks ago, and it's not changing because someone is upset," Alexia said. Alba glanced between you and her older sister, amazed by how stubborn both of you were being. If there had ever been a doubt that you were Alexia's baby, it was cleared up with moments like these.

"Call Olga and see what she thinks," Alba said. At that, Alexia paused, knowing what her girlfriend would say. Olga was constantly getting at Alexia for being too stuck in her ways. Alexia was trying to get better about being flexible when it came to plans, but it was hard.

"N-no, that's not necessary," Alexia stammered a little. Alba was glad to see Alexia give up a little as she walked over towards you. "Mama's been gone for a long time, hasn't she?"

"Y-yeah," you answered. You weren't sobbing anymore, but you were definitely still crying quite a bit. "'miss her."

"I miss her too, a lot. I'm sorry that I didn't think about your feelings. I didn't even think to ask if you wanted to come with me, I just made plans for you to go with Alba. Abuela Eli misses you a lot, so I thought you'd want to spend time with them. How about you go with them for this, and next time I have to go far away, you and Olga can have a girls' weekend?" It wasn't a great compromise, but Alexia was hoping that it would work for you. You seemed to be contemplating it, which Alexia took as a good sign.

"This time I'll go with Tia Alba," you told her. Alexia sighed in relief as she wrapped her arms around you. "Bye Mami."

"Bye Bebita. Temo amo," Alexia whispered into your hairline as she peppered your face with kisses. You began to squirm away from her, but Alexia had a tight hold on you.

"Come on, let's go. Just wait until you see what Abuela Eli made for dinner," Alba said as she pried Alexia's arms off of you. You gave your Mami a kiss before you went with Alba for the night.

"Do you think Abuela Eli will let us all sleep in the big bed together?" you asked as you swung Alba's arm. She hated it, especially whenever Alexia used to do it to her, but with you, she found it kind of endearing.

"Definitely, I bet she's already got your teddies laid up in bed," Alba answered. You were so happy and excited that you hopped up randomly as Alba led you to her car. You sat on her shoulders and watched as the Barcelona bus left, and with it, your Mami for her big game. You didn't really care to watch it, but you were excited for being passed around everybody's laps for cuddles during the game.

[adiadagaki]

"Can I have all of your hoodies?"

Incl: Gojo, Geto, Toji, Megumi, Sukuna (18+)

Megumi

"Megs, can I have all of your hoodies?" Burying your head into the black fabric you sighed, a drowsiness emerging from his clean scent. Your nostrils sung.

But the actual source was much better.

Hugging your boyfriend you whispered thanks into his bare chest. He made many sacrifices (which weren't actually sacrifices in his eyee) to ensure you are happy.

"No problem." He mumbled, trying to hide how bashful you made him. Hugging you back to hide said embarrassed face, he kissed your forehead.

"Come on baby, bed time." Snuggling closer you soughed, "Megs can you carry me to bed?" Humoured by your ask he couldn't help but point out you were five feet from the bed, "Please Megs, my legs are tired and you are strong and comfy." Giving in, as he was always going to, he wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you.

Coiling your legs around his waist you hummed happily, portraying your thanks. Three seconds later and you were safely tucked under the sheets, latched onto Megumi.

"Thanks Megs, for carrying me and-" A yawn escaped your lips, "And your hoodies." Sliding a hand under his - your - hoodie he pawed at your hip, your heart fluttering at his touch.

"Any time baby."

Sukuna

"Sukuna?" Plucking at the appetising hoodie on his chest, you batted your lashes. The curse gazed down at you, curious as to what you could possibly want.

You were fed, fucked and showered.

"Yes princess?" Straddling his lap, you slid your hands onto his lower abs, "Can I have your hoodies?" A single, attractive brow cocked, "All of them?" A cheeky smile and a nod, "Not sure princess. I like my hoodies." He was only teasing, he had enough hoodies to clothe a small village, but he loved seeing the little pout on your lips as you asked him.

"But they are so comfortable, and they smell just like you." Cute, Sukuna thought you were cute.

"That is a good reason princess. But what will I get in return for losing all of my hoodies, hm?" Chewing on your lip you wandered into thought.

What would pursude the King of curses to hand over his hoodies?

Sukuna watched with a lazy smirk on his face. If only you understood everything that was his was yours you wouldn't ask him for things all the time. If he didn't enjoy how you did it he would drill the fact into you like an owner training a puppy.

"How about you let me finally take your ass princess?" Your pout deepend, "That doesn't seem like a fair trade." Tugging you up off his lap, ready to deposit you at the side he bit back a laugh at how your hands flailed.

Adorable.

"How about I let you take my ass with your fingers. Ease me into it?" That was good enough for him. He would have you taking both of his cocks soon enough, in his true form.

"I guess that will have to do princess." Shoving your hand in front of his face, you wiggled your fingers, "You can only actually take my ass when you out a ring on it." Digging his fingers into your hips, he flipped you, his cock hardening in his pants.

"What type of ring do you want princess?"

Satoru

Leaving your shared closet, you halted at the foot of Satoru's abnormally large bed and crossed your arms.

"Something wrong sweetheart?" Looking up from his phone fully (away from the designer dress he was looking to buy you), he drank in your adorable pout, "Where is my favourite hoodie?" Ah. That's why you were pouting so adorably for him.

"I put it in the wash sweetheart." Throwing your hands in the air you wondered how he could be so stupid, "Satoru!" Internally he was laughing at your elaborate reaction but externally he had on a poker face. He couldn't risk you withholding sex again.

"I'm sorry sweetheart, but it needed washing." That didn't improve your mood. "There is only one solution to this." Intrigued, Satoru played along, "Oh?"

"I need you to give me all of your hoodies." That did make Satoru smirk, even the strongest had his limits. "Is that so?" A firm nod only caused his smirk to tug wider.

"In that case sweetheart, they are all yours. Now c'mere and give me a kiss." Now all of his hoodies were yours, who were you to say no?

Suguru

Freezing didn't even describe the chill that racked your bones as you stepped inside yours and Suguru's apartment. The rain had lashed against you mercilessly leaving you sodden, as though you'd just showered.

At the sight of you Suguru frowned, concerned your weaker immune system would catch a cold.

"What happened pretty girl? Why didn't you ring me to pick you up?" You cast your eyes down at the little scalding your boyfriend was giving you, "I didn't want to bother you on your day off." That reminded Suguru why he loved you so much, "Pretty girl, you are never a bother. I'd have happily picked you up if I'd known you were walking in this weather." His words touched you.

But not as much as his actions.

He immediately stripped you of your drenched clothes, numerous kisses placed on your face, lastly your lips.

"Warm bath or shower?" He breathed against your now swollen lips, "Shower please. And Suguru?"

"Yes pretty girl." Perching your chin on his chest, you smiled wanting to weaken his resolve, "Can I have all of your hoodies?" A laugh broke free from his chest at the question, shaking not only his body but yours.

You loved that sound from him.

"All of my hoodies were already yours pretty girl. Always have been, always will be. No need to ask." Grinning, you pecked his lips, "I love you Sugu."

"I love you too pretty girl."

Toji

"Why do you never buy me new clothes Toji?" A little humour packed huff left his lips, "I do buy you clothes doll." That displeased you a whole bunch, a very deep frown settling on your lips.

If Toji had bothered to look away from the TV he would have seen that.

"Dresses and lingerie are not clothes. I need things to wear on regular days." If Toji had his way you'd only wear lingerie around the house, but you were resistant to the idea. He couldn't help that.

A lazy smirk crawled up his lips at the idea of you in some cute white lingerie, cooking for him, cleaning around, bending over so that tight, perky ass of yours was on full display.

He really didn't see why you hated the idea.

"You don't need any more regular clothes doll." His continued refusal had a plan surfacing in your mind.

If he wasn't going to buy you new clothes then you'd just have to share. What else could you do?

"So I can't have new clothes?" His answer remained constant, 'no'. "Then, can I have your hoodies?" Crawling onto his lap, you toyed with a strand of his hair, biting onto your bottom lip in an enticing display. Hoping - needing - for him to agree.

You were fast running out of options.

"My hoodies?" Nodding, you gave him bedroom eyes, "Fuck." He grumbled, his resolve ever thinning.

Just one little push, "Please Toji, I need-" Pressing your hips down into his you smirked internally at how he jolted, desire beginning to plague him.

Grinding your hips, you kissed his jaw, devious in every move. "Shit, shit, alright doll they are yours. Now ride my fucking cock and finish what you started."

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 23 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is hoping a new role with the Navy will give him the opportunity to spend more time at home with his family. You offer up the ultimate gift for his birthday. 

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, lactation kink, body image, oral sex, mentions anal, DILF Roo

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

"What should we do for Daddy's birthday?" you asked your daughter while she nursed. Bradley was working late again. If he didn't actually get this new position at Top Gun when the time arrived, you weren't sure how he was going to take it. He was working so hard right now to try to cut his deployments down by training younger recruits to fly missions instead of actually flying all of them himself. He wanted to be home more, and you wanted him to spend as much time with Rose as he could.

In the meantime, he always felt like a ticking time bomb. Like at any moment he would be taken away again. His most recent special mission ended months ago while you were still pregnant, and it felt surreal at times that he hadn't been called away again.

"We'll do something special," you whispered to Rose. "Daddy always makes my birthday special. He'll always make yours special, too."

Her eyes were bright and alert as she released herself from your breast to yawn while you ran the pad of your thumb gently along her cheek. She had the softest skin and most adorable features. She was going to look just like Bradley, you could already tell. And you had to agree with him when he said he thought she was whip-smart. She always looked around for Tramp and seemed to point to him when she wanted to be licked.

"You're absolutely perfect," you told her, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. Rose's yawns were coming more frequently as you changed her diaper and placed her in her crib. "I'll send Daddy in to say goodnight when he gets home," you promised. Once her sound machine was playing a lullaby, you crept out of the nursery and went to clean up the meager dinner you made for yourself.

Looking in the mirror was still currently your least favorite activity. You were tired, and it was reflected on your face. Your body still seemed to belong to Rose, and you felt a little helpless by the width of your hips and the size of your butt. Your belly was riddled with stretch marks, and every time Bradley saw you in any manner of undress, you couldn't understand how he could get turned on. When you and he had sex, it was almost like he tricked you into believing he was excited to be with you.

The front door shut and you jumped, spinning on the spot to see your husband heading your way. "What a fucking day," he groaned, boots squeaking on the floor. He was still in his flight suit, messy hair threaded with a bit of gray. "I didn't think I would be this late."

He didn't stop until you were wrapped up in his arms. "Why are you still in your boots and flight suit?"

"Wanted to get home faster," he murmured. "I missed you."

The way he ran his big hand down the middle of your back and gave your butt a little squeeze while he kissed you left you breathless. Then he knocked the air clean out of your lungs as he nibbled gently on your lips before whispering, "I'm late for my husband and daddy duties. Is the Nugget already asleep?"

"I think so," you told him, melting into his touch. He was already the best dad in the world for Rose, and his hands up the back of his ratty UVA shirt that you were wearing reminded you how good he was at those husband duties, too. "She seemed tired after I fed her."

Bradley's brown eyes flicked down toward your chest as his stomach growled.

"I can feed you, too," you said with a laugh. "All I had for dinner was some toast and jelly, but I can make you something else."

You didn't even mention the part where you were trying to cut calories so you could lose weight, because he was looking at you like he always did. And his hands were warm on your skin like they always were.

"Don't worry about me. I'll get something after I give Rose a good night kiss and we take a shower together."

You raised one eyebrow. "We're taking a shower together?"

He nodded slowly. "We are, Baby Girl. I'm so worn out, it's probably the only thing that's going to make me feel better." 

His right hand strayed to your breast, and your lips parted on a soft sound as his rough fingers found your nipple beneath the shirt. You forgot to feel self conscious as you let your hands slide up his chest until your arms were draped over his shoulders. Your lips were on his like a magnet, and you whimpered at the feel of his rough mustache. Then his tongue was in your mouth, and you were ready to climb him like a tree.

Somehow, you worked him up. It didn't make any sense. He was literally touching your stretch marks now as he rutted against you and grunted your name. "Oh, fuck," he said between kisses. You felt overstimulated, and your breasts were leaking onto your shirt, but it just made his cock harder. "Go get in the shower? I need to take a little peek at Rose, and then I'll be in to do absolutely anything you want. Anything." He started to pull your shirt over your head. "Just let me taste you."

"Jesus Christ, Roo," you moaned, pushing him away. "Hurry up. I'll be in the bathroom."

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

Bradley ducked his head inside the baby's nursery. Her music was playing softly, and she was clearly sound asleep in her crib with Tramp snoozing on the floor. He had to take a few deep breaths when he heard the shower turn on across the hallway, and he ran his hand over his face.

"Rosie, I'll be back in a little bit to check on you, okay?" he whispered. "I need Mommy for a few minutes."

He was already unzipping his flight suit and wrenching it down his arms as he walked through the bedroom and into the bathroom. It smelled like your body wash, and he could practically taste your breast milk as he watched you climb in the shower. He was tired, like actually exhausted. There was so much to learn from Maverick and the admirals. There was paperwork and guidelines and things to memorize. There was so much more going on behind the scenes than he realized, and it took all of his focus to keep up. But he wanted a job where he'd be home more and on a carrier less. That way he could see your silhouette through the foggy glass shower door every night.

"Sweetheart." His voice was deep and needy, and you turned to face him.

"What was fast." Your voice echoed beautifully in the enclosed space as he bent to undo his boot laces. 

"I'll sneak back in later to see Rose," he rasped, climbing in and closing the door behind him. "I can't wait another minute for you."

He was serious, but you looked a little hesitant and maybe unconvinced as you stood with your back against the tile wall, water hitting your legs and feet. You were rounder in places now, and your body felt like heaven in the palms of his hand. When he considered whether or not an obnoxiously long, hard day of work was worth it, all he had to do was look at your face or hear your voice, and he was convinced it was. But getting to have you like this? It didn't even seem fair.

"My god, you are absolutely fucking perfect."

Maybe you were going to say something to him as you parted your lips, but he leaned in to kiss you before you could. Your warmth and your fingers in his hair could fix any problem he had, he was certain. And he always wanted to be that way for you, too. He wanted to be the reason you knew you had something better to look forward to at the end of the day.

"Bradley," you whined when his cock pressed against your soft belly. Your fingers made their way down to his biceps, and your thumb traced his new tattoo as you looked up at him with wide eyes.

The level of intimacy he felt with you was unparalleled, whether it was sex or just being around you. But he couldn't help but want everything right now when your milk was beading up on your nipples and sliding down the undersides of your tits.

"Will you let me taste you?"

The feral noise you made had him bending slightly to get his mouth on you. None of this should be wasted right now. It was too sweet. You were too fucking warm. Even the steamy air and the water hitting his calves couldn't compete with your breasts. He got down on his knees for better access.

"I'm not going to lie, Roo," you whispered, pushing his hair back from his forehead, "watching you do that is so hot."

He looked up at you as he ran his tongue lazily back and forth. "Watching you do anything is hot, Sweetheart." You whimpered, and he could feel you squeeze your thighs together. "Just be patient. I'll take care of it. I just can't let this go to waste."

You grabbed at his hair and his shoulders as he licked and sucked you dry. Your nipples were furled tight, no longer dripping with that beautiful milk before he stopped. Every time you made a noise, you were rubbing your pussy against him, and Bradley knew he made you wait long enough. 

His cock was aching as he sat down and ran his nose along the length of your slit, coaxing your thighs apart with the softest touch. You didn't disappoint, letting him see and smell and taste you to his heart's content. He sucked on your clit before moving his lips to your rooster tattoo, smiling as you moaned impatiently while he kissed you there.

"Please, Bradley." Your voice took on a tone of overstimulation, nipples still tight peaks as you wiggled your hips. "I need it."

He let you have his mouth all over your pussy. Every soaking wet, silky inch if you. He worked his tongue in circles just how he knew you liked it, and he listened to every cue you gave him with your voice. The louder you got, the harder he sucked until your legs shook. Then he backed off and enjoyed the keening sound of your orgasm as you rode his face.

"Please," he begged softly, getting to his feet while you were still coming for him. But you nodded and turned to face the wall, letting him fuck you from behind with both of his hands planted on the tiles. "Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck, Sweetheart!"

Barely a dozen good thrusts, and he came as he watched you kiss his hand. He was out of breath and yet still over excited as he nuzzled your neck. "My wife is actually perfect," he whispered.

Even cleaning you up was fun. Every time he ran his hand between your legs, your eyes fluttered closed, and you bit your lip. Then you washed his hair which always turned him into an even bigger mess for you. By the time you turned off the water, he was so sated and still needy for your attention, he followed you everywhere.

Bradley watched you get changed into pajamas before pulling you into bed with him. "I still need to make you dinner," you whispered as he peppered your nose with kisses. 

"I can find something myself," he promised. "It's pretty late, and I want you to get enough sleep. I need to go check on the Nugget anyway." He paused when your stomach growled loudly. "What do you want? I'll make something for both of us."

"I already had dinner."

"You had toast. That's not dinner. What do you want?"

You looked up at him and whispered, "A sandwich."

"Done." He kissed your lips and climbed out of bed, pulling on clean boxer briefs. "Give me a five minute head start so I can kiss Rosie, and I'll meet you in the kitchen."

Bradley had to fight the urge to wake his daughter up just to watch her be adorable while he held her, because he felt like he missed the entire day with her. "Still better than being deployed," he whispered, making Tramp leave the nursery with him. 

He sent the dog out to the backyard as he tried not to worry about when his next mission might come. Then he made two identical sandwiches and opened a bag of potato chips and a can of beer. And then you were there with him again.

"What do you want to do for your birthday on Friday?" you asked, tucking yourself against his body as you reached for one of the sandwiches. "And don't you dare say you want to spend a day with just the three of us and try to bail to get another tattoo."

He kissed your temple and said, "Nothing else is important enough for me to want to get it tattooed besides you and Rosie, so what I'm about to say is the absolute truth. As soon as we get out of work on Friday, all I want to do is spend the evening with my girls."

"Well, I was thinking...." you started, nibbling at your sandwich. "You know how for my birthday, you reserved the lounge where we went to the silent disco? But then I fell at work and kind of killed that plan?"

"How could I forget?" he replied, downing the rest of his beer. "Reenacting our first date is never going to not be fun for me. Music and hot sauce and falling the fuck in love."

You smiled up at him. "What if I call the bar and see if they'll let us have a little silent disco with Rosie on Friday night? To make up for the one we missed?"

Bradley swore his heart skipped a beat. "I would love that, Baby Girl."

"Then I'll try to make it happen."

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

Bradley woke up on Friday morning with your hand wrapped around his cock and your giggling lips next to his ear. "Happy birthday, Roo," you whispered. Your breath was warm and tickled him as he opened his eyes and grunted.

"It's already pretty happy."

He pulled down the covers and watched you jerk him off while your bare breasts were mashed against him. There was a pretty droplet of your milk in his chest hair, and you were telling him all the things you wanted to do to him later. Even when you really gripped him, your fingers didn't quite reach all the way around his cock, and he tucked his arm behind his head to get a better view.

"I was thinking," you whispered, lips brushing his ear, "we could do what we did last year on your birthday. If you want."

Instantly he envisioned the way you let him fuck you in the ass, and he gasped. "Anal?" he asked softly, holding his breath for the answer as you dragged your hand up to the tip of his cock and squeezed.

"Yes."

He instantly came all over himself, white ribbons coating his abs as you kissed his neck. "Fuuuuck," he croaked, already excited for later tonight.

"Damn, Roo. You couldn't even wait until I got my mouth down there?"

He tucked his other arm behind his head as well and watched you kiss your way down his body. "You just promised me your ass, Sweetheart. I don't know what you expected." He went silent again as you ran your tongue around his belly button and started lapping up his cum. You had him on your lips, dragging your tongue through the mess when Rose started crying in her nursery. "Hang on, Nugget! Daddy's enjoying his birthday!"

You smiled up at him and kissed his hip before nudging him toward the edge of the bed. "Go get her ready, and I'll be in shortly."

He leaned down and kissed you before pulling on his underwear and heading to the nursery. He actually loved it when Rose started wailing like this, because he got to enjoy the way she immediately calmed down when he picked her up and gave her a little snuggle.

"You're loud today. Are you saying happy birthday?" he asked, tickling her tummy before changing her wet diaper. She was three months old and absolutely perfect. She could hold her head up on her own, and her eyes seemed to be a slightly different color every day. Bradley was fascinated by his daughter and would have gladly spent the entire day hanging out with her instead of going to work.

He was bouncing her gently in his arms, turning her hunger cries into little giggles when you joined them. "Is she ready for the silent disco tonight?" you asked, settling into the glider chair with your tits on display. He couldn't wait to get you in bed again later, but he was just as excited about going to Del Mar.

"I think so," he crooned, covering his daughter's face in kisses before handing her over so she could eat. "I love you both." Then he kissed her fuzzy hair and your lips before heading back down the hallway to get dressed for work.

Dropping Rose off at the daycare on base every day was still hard, but at least she was with Jeremiah. And Bradley was planning on skipping out early today to take her home and get ready to go out. Not only had you talked the rooftop bar into an hour-long private silent disco, you also made a reservation at the hot sauce restaurant. He was convinced Rose would love both places as much as he did.

As soon as he walked out onto the tarmac, he felt an arm around his shoulders. "Happy birthday, Soul Sister. I can't believe you're forty-eight."

"I'm thirty-eight, Nat."

"Whatever. Still old as fuck."

"I love you, too."

She smirked. "Are you enjoying your new job? All locked away with the admirals up in the tower like you're Rapunzel or something?"

Bradley stopped and swiped a hand along his back. "Did someone tape a sign on me that says It's my birthday, please pick on me?"

"Nah," she replied. "Doesn't need to be your birthday for that. Happy to do it any day of the year."

He followed along at her side again. "I don't actually have a new position yet," he muttered. "I'm just... I don't like being away from them now. It was bad enough before, but I think if someone gave me deployment papers today, I'd probably throw up."

"You're such a dad," his best friend replied, reaching for his hand and giving him a squeeze. "I completely understand why you want to turn into Rapunzel in the tower, Rooster. I probably would as well if I had a daughter. Speaking of, let me know when I can stop by with all the new toys and outfits I got for my goddaughter."

Bradley's imagination drifted to the bedroom activity he was looking forward to later this evening. "Uh, maybe tomorrow or Sunday? Not tonight."

"You got it."

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

The ride to Del Mar was familiar now. Bradley's Motown playlist filled the interior of the blue Bronco along with his voice while he drove and played with your wedding rings. The late June sunlight was bright and warm even as it approached 6:30, and you could tell by how relaxed your husband was that he was having a good day.

"I can't believe you're thirty-eight years old."

He gave you side eye. "Listen, Sweetheart, I've still got all the moves, okay? I was just excited this morning, that's all."

You burst into laughter. "That's not what I meant!"

With a playful glare, he parallel parked in front of the hot sauce restaurant. "I feel like you're contractually obligated to be nice to me today, especially after how much Nat picked on me."

You kissed his cheek and whispered, "I'm letting you have my ass. How much nicer could I possibly get."

"Great. Now I have to get my erection under control," he groaned, killing the engine and letting his head tip back. But he was smiling. "I actually think that makes you the nicest."

Honestly, you were a bit nervous. Last year, he barely thrusted before he came, and it still felt like you were being stretched to your limit. More than anything, you wanted him to still find pleasure in your body, but you didn't want him to hurt you.

As if you'd spoken your thoughts out loud, he whispered in your ear, "I'll make it feel good for you, too." Then he was out on the sidewalk, lifting Rose in her car carrier out of the backseat like the most attentive father in the world. She was wearing a little dress covered in flowers. You were also wearing a dress with your boat shoes. "Just look at my beautiful girls," he crooned, draping his right arm over your shoulders and carrying the car seat like it was nothing.

"I can't wait until she's old enough to enjoy some hot sauce," you mused.

"Her first solid food can be a chili pepper."

You snorted. "Rose, I will not let that happen."

You spent dinner coating your food in a rainbow of different hot sauces while Bradley stole bites of your meal and offered up some of his own. Rose kept trying to reach for the bottles with all of the pretty labels, and you watched her cry until Bradley let her play with a plastic one that was brand new and still sealed up tight. 

"She's your fucking kid, alright. Won't leave the restaurant without some hot sauce," he told you, signaling for the waiter to add it onto the bill at the end of the meal.

"Stop swearing in front of the baby." You were unable to contain your laughter as you added, "She picked out a good one, too. Excellent taste."

Bradley reached for your hand. "Now to determine if she has good taste in music, too."

After stopping back at the Bronco so Bradley could strap Rose in her carrier against his chest, the three of you walked at a leisurely pace along the main street toward the beachfront lounge. When you approached the pier where you spent plenty of time getting to know each other on your first date, Bradley turned so Rose could look at the setting sun.

"You see that long fishing pier, Nugget?" he murmured, smiling at you. "I took Mommy on the best date of her life, and we made out on that pier until I was on the verge of embarrassing myself."

"Accurate," you added immediately. "It was the best date of my life, but there was nothing you could have done to embarrass yourself."

"I beg to differ. I could have told you I loved you. On our first date."

His eyes were sincere. You knew he fell in love with you fast. He'd already told you as much. But hearing him say the words while he had his big hand wrapped around yours and Rose cradled to his chest left you breathless. "When you tell me now that you were already in love with me on our first date, it's just romantic, Roo."

His smile grew, and you thought all about how much had changed in the past three years as you led him toward the lounge which was lit with string lights. You rode the elevator to the rooftop with your head resting on his shoulder, face to face with your sleepy daughter. She had her little fist up next to her face, rubbing her eye.

"She's going to fall asleep, Roo."

"Nah, she'll last for a few songs. I want a picture of her wearing the headphones."

You forgot how pretty the rooftop was with all the lights and the bar. This time, instead of two sets of headphones, you were handed three, and the woman who was working made a fuss over how cute Rose was.

"I swear she looks just like my wife," Bradley said, showing her off proudly.

The other woman smiled and said, "You have an hour before we open to the public for the night. The DJ will start playing as soon as you're ready."

"Perfect," you told her, and then she was gone, and your husband was giving the DJ a thumbs up. You slid your headphones into place and turned them on to the pink channel. Once Bradley had his on, you changed his channel to match yours and laughed when one of his Motown songs came on.

"Yes," he said with a grin, lowering the volume all the way on the third pair before putting them on Rose. They were of course huge, and he had to hold them in place with one hand, but she smiled when she heard the song. "She likes it!"

"Of course she does. She's your daughter," you said over the music.

Bradley's lips landed on yours, and his free hand gently wrapped around the back of your neck. You stayed like that with Rose between you, getting kiss after kiss from your husband as you danced, occasionally changing the channel on your headphones to blue or green.

The DJ seemed to know what Bradley was going to like best, his face lighting up for almost every song like he was delighted to get to hear it. Rose, on the other hand, was asleep after ten minutes with her cheek squished against him. At least you managed to take one selfie of the three of you before her eyes closed, but now she was napping while you danced and lip synced with Bradley until the music came to a stop. The hour was too short. You wanted it to last longer.

Carefully, you removed Rose's headphones and then your own, handing them over on your way back to the elevator. "Time to go home and get your cake and birthday presents," you whispered as you were taken back down to the first level.

His hand settled on your lower back before drifting down a few inches more. His expression was completely serious as he said, "Baby Girl, I thought this cake was my birthday present."

"If you play your cards right, you can have two kinds of cake tonight."

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

Bradley is so ridiculously spoiled. Sweet Rosie already likes hot sauce. BG is struggling so much and can't quite see herself the way her husband does. Stay tuned. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 24

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[mell0wjello]

OK, i reeeeally like your writing style, so i'm going to make my first request 🫶

savanaclaw with a reader who, when they get nervous, do they end up cooking? as if it were a uncontrollable habit, yk? and what would happen if, one day, they got so nervous that they ended up having a big feast?

TYYY ANONN <333 Im loving the creativity of these requests so ofc !! I'm kind of scared of writing for Savanaclaw (some parts might be ooc) but I’ll do it just for you

~~~~~~

𝓛𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓪 𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓻

Since Leona learned about your little habit, he’s been accepting what he can from you. He’s very picky. He won’t eat anything that’s been out for 2 days, and absolutely no veggies. Much to his dismay though, you keep bringing them to him, and you’ve joined in on Ruggie’s nagging to eat the dreaded items. He had to admit though, the way you prepared them made it much easier for him to keep down.

He takes what he can, and the leftovers go to Ruggie, who's always happy to get food on his plate. Savanaclaw was well-fed during exam seasons, and you also seemed much more relaxed when you brought over a few snacks. Leona enjoyed eating something other than cafeteria food, and the food you prepared was much tastier by a landslide.

Finals week rolled around, and Leona knew what this implied for you. As the only magic-less student on campus, there was pressure on you to uphold a decent grade. You'd stay all day holed up at Ramshackle, presumably studying, so Leona didn't care to interrupt you. As much as he avoided studying, he understood the stakes for you and let you be, although he advised you to take breaks in between.

That's why he didn't mind your text saying you'd be bringing dinner later. You'd finally decided to tear yourself away from the books and give yourself a break, so Leona left you on read as his way of giving you permission. A while later, there was a knock on his door. You were at his door, asking for him to come down. The smell of your cooking wafted into his dorm room and the sound of students chattering rang out from outside.

"What's that racket outside?" Leona stepped out and looked over at the lounge below, seeing half the dorm crowded around a table filled with a variety of different dishes, all still hot and fresh. He had to take a second to admire the incredible amount of food, threatening to rival the one at the royal palace.

"Oh," you said from behind him,

"I brought over dinner. Didn't I text you about it?"

Leona turned his eyes to you in subtle annoyance. You had joined his side and looked down at the lounge as well, a hint of pride glimmering in your eyes.

"Yes, you did but..." Leona groaned, pinching the space in between his furrowed brows. When you said you'd be bringing dinner, he didn't imagine it to blow to this proportion. Although part of him wanted to admonish you, he recognized no ill intent in your actions and besides, your tired demeanor had been wiped off your face when you knocked on his door. If this is what it took for you to finally return to your usual bubbly self, he decided he didn't mind.

"You really are a handful, you know that?" Leona sighed, making his way to join the rest of his dorm. You followed close behind him, jokingly urging him to quicken his step, or his dormmates would finish everything before he got there. Plenty of food and plenty of drinks were passed around that night, and lots of laughter and conversations were shared. There was enough food for everyone to eat their fill, and Leona ate quite a lot too. You were talking with Jack and Ruggie when you noticed the abnormal absence of a snarky comment.

You turned to look at Leona, but he wasn't in his seat. Instead, he was laying down on a nearby couch, arms thrown under his head, slowly falling asleep. The three of you had to hold back your laughter. Who would've thought that even Leona would get sleepy after a big meal? You sneaked in closer to him, looking how his chest began to rise and lower with his breath, and the small wrinkling of his nose. It was at times like these that you wished you still had your cellphone with you. The other two joined in. Ruggie sneaked his phone from his pocket, cautiously opening the camera to take a picture. As if sensing imminent danger, you and Jack stepped away. Ruggie was framing Leona’s sleeping expression, but his ears perked up and his eyes shot open.

All 3 of your hearts dropped simultaneously, feeling like prey cornered by your predatory upperclassman. In a moment of fight or flight, the three of you darted away, knowing deep down that you wouldn’t be able to outrun him, but still trying nonetheless to escape from peril.

𝓡𝓾𝓰𝓰𝓲𝓮 𝓑𝓾𝓬𝓬𝓱𝓲

Ruggie, for one, adored this little habit of yours. He loved having you around. Especially during big tests or events on campus, if you were there it meant that there was food on his plate. Such a good cook you were too! He’d get to try so many new things, and so much tastier and filling than dandelions.

Ruggie never minded at all when there was a knock at his door and he found you handing him a basket full of sweets and pastries. If it let you blow off steam and it kept his stomach full, he saw no reason for concern. Hell, he’d even come over to Ramshackle to ask for the food himself, even during seasons when your cooking habit was more or less controlled.

However, as much as he loved your cooking, even he was shocked when he came to Ramshackle today. He knew that lately you’d been feeling very nervous about the upcoming exams, and there was a constant flux of baskets coming to his dorm step. The outside of Ramshackle smelled like heaven on earth for Ruggie. He cheerfully knocked on your door as he always did, expecting the usual basket full of baked goods.

Instead, he was greeted by a grim figure resembling your usual image with a mixing bowl in hand. Dark circles rimmed your eyes and your normally lively skin was now ghastly pale, yet somehow you still stirred the bowl steadily. Ruggie choked on seemingly nothing and took a step back, thinking your habit had finally done you in and turned you into one of your roommates. The figure spoke in a bizarrely clear voice.

"Ruggie! Uh, you're here for your basket, right? Umm..." You laughed awkwardly, trying to come up with something to say.

The sound of your usual voice broke Ruggie out of his baffled state, allowing concern to set in.

"Prefect?! I barely recognized you! Did you sleep at all?" He spouted anxiously, but you seemed to hardly be fazed.

"Oh yeah... I couldn't really sleep," You said nervously.

"My hands kind of started moving on their own, and before I realized," you laughed a little more to alleviate the distress leaking into your voice. With a sigh, you gave in.

"Well, I think you'd better look at it yourself"

You opened the door and invited him in to reveal the lounge of Ramshackle, the sole table crowded with plate upon plate of mouth-watering dishes. Ruggie's eyes widened at the sight, his ears perked up and his tail began to wag side to side.

"It's a lot, and I still have some more in the kitchen. I don't really know what to do with it," you said admittedly.

"surely not even you could take all this?" You referred to Ruggie, who was still staring. There was so much. Too much. Not even he could handle all that. But…

“I’ll take it no problem” Ruggie claimed despite the doubt in your voice.

"What? Ruggie, this is way too much! You can't eat all this before half of it goes to waste."

"Who says it's for me? I can bring it back home. It'll keep granny and the other folks fed for days!" He countered, already heading to grab some of the plates from the table.

"Ohhh! You're right! We should probably get several baskets for this..." You said as you went into the kitchen, taking out a few baskets that you were planning on giving Ruggie later.

The both of you stuffed and wrapped as much food as you could and placed it into the baskets, overflowing each one. With a little help from magic, the both of you arrived at Savanaclaw carrying mountains of baskets, warranting the stares of some of the other dorm members. Ruggie didn’t mind though, he could only think about bringing all these goods back home as soon as possible.

𝓙𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓗𝓸���𝓵

Jack was a little anxious when he found out. At first, he thought that cooking might get in the way and such a task could potentially disturb your daily routine, although you seemed to manage it relatively fine and you were undeniably good at it. The Savanaclaw kitchen was a deserted place, so after talking with Leona, Jack would invite you over to use it instead since it was bound to be way nicer than Ramshackle's. He's doing it EXCLUSIVELY because he thinks it'll be putting their kitchen to better use. He'll never tell you it was out of concern.

Lending you his dorm kitchen also meant that he was allowed special access to all the baked goods you made. This was one of the reasons he decided to take that initiative too, although he would never admit it directly either. His tail was a different story though. The way it energetically wagged from side to side as you handed him a plate gave away everything you needed to know. At the end of the day, you were relieving your stress and he got to taste your cooking, so what was there not to like?

You came often to Savanaclaw, always busying away in the kitchen, but nowadays, you would spend the majority of your time in there. Jack took notice of this, and he also observed how you were more on edge and nervous lately. On a particularly stressful day for you, he peeked inside the kitchen to check up on you. There was an unfamiliar scent in the air. You were cutting up something on the counter, something you hadn't made yet. Jack curiously comes up to you.

“What’s that?” He asks, looking at the unknown dish you were preparing. It looked sort of odd, but it did smell good.

You smile at him lightly, a crease of melancholy tugging at the corner of your mouth.

“You wouldn’t know it,” you cut the last piece and add it to the plate, finishing the dish.

“It’s a little something I used to make back home. Rather, I tried my best to replicate it with what I have.” You say, pulling out 2 utensils from one of the drawers.

“Would you like to try some?” You ask Jack, who has unapologetically been following the plate with his eyes. He nods, and you hand him the other utensil. He quickly takes a bite, his face first showing subtle confusion, quickly followed by an expression of satisfaction.

You giggle, relieving some of the sadness you felt. You hand the boy the plate, happy at your successful attempt of imitating such a comforting dish. Your hands move on their own as you talk to him again,

“Lately I’ve been feeling real homesick. I suppose I just wanted something to alleviate that feeling.” Your hands reach for some fruits and you place them on the cutting board.

Jack listens to you, looking back at the plate and at your working hands. He sets the now empty plate on the sink, washing it along with his hands, and comes over to you.

“What can I do to help?”

You turn to the beastman by your side, giving him a confused look.

“Help me with what?” You ask, resting the knife on the board.

“Well, you’re feeling down right now,” Jack replied honestly. He continues,

“And you’re always cooking stuff for us so…” Jack averted his gaze and crossed his arms, but you could see some pink rise to his cheeks as he spoke.

“I figured the least I could do is help you with it.”

Your face softened into a smile, although Jack's was flustered. Suppose that if he knew how to use a knife and stir, he could be of use in the kitchen.

"Sure! Here's what you can do." You hand him a couple of ingredients and you take out measuring cups. You run Jack through the basic steps of making a traditional dish from your country as he listens intently. You glance back from your own duties every now and to give pointers and see that Jack, although clumsy at times, is doing a fine job. Soon enough, you give him instructions for another task, then another, and another. Before any of you realize it, you're surrounded by pots and plates full of food. You're stirring one of the pans sitting on the stove when you feel Jack tap you on the shoulder.

"You done?" You ask, thinking that he's done with boiling the veggies, but instead, he gives you a concerned response.

"Prefect... I think we've been at it for too long" He motions for you to look at the rest of the kitchen. You follow his nod with a gasp to see the entire space filled with way too much food for just the two of you.

"Oh, shit" you muttered under your breath. What were you going to do with all of this?

"Leona's going to be mad if he finds this" Your mind raced at the thought of how pissed Leona would be if a herbivore like you was making a mess in his kitchen.

Jack proposed, "Do you think we could give this out without him finding out?". It wasn't a bad idea.

"Hmm. Do you think your dormmates will eat this?" You looked at the food. It was nothing regional, that's for sure. You wondered if they'll like recipes from another world.

"Yeah! They'll eat anything really, especially Ruggie." Jack grinned at you, showing off his canines.

The both of you got to work, sectioning off everything into trays that would be easy to hand out and leaving a little bit of food for the both of you as well. You set out to knock on rooms to deliver the food. Once that task was done, you could go back to the kitchen to enjoy what was left. Everything tastes so much better when you're proud of what you've cooked.

[gguk-n]

Chapter 1- The Arrangement

Arranged For Love (Carlos Sainz Jr x Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Everything seemed to be going well for Y/N until it doesn't. Will this life altering event bring her closer to her family. Will this life altering event introduce her to Carlos?

The reader is Y/N, other than that everyone has a name

Y/N was majoring in Business; just like her grandma, Anika Baker had wanted. "You're smart, you're rational and the best of all you're kind" she would tell her grand daughter growing up. That's why she was currently studying to maybe take over her family business when she grew up.

She grew up in a matriarchy, where after the untimely death of her grandfather; her grandmother took the lead and brought the company to where it is now. Eventually, she did step back and let her son, Ivan and daughter-in-law, Rose Aguirre handle it. That was when Y/N was born. The first born of their family, she was so pampered; she got whatever she wanted. She had her dad wrapped around her little pudgy finger.

So, when her parents were away, their grandmother raised her and her siblings. She fed them, helped them with their homework and best of all, told them stories of kings and dragons. Y/N would sit intently while her grandmother would massage her feet after a tiring day at school or give her a head massage when it ached. Y/N would always love spending time with her, one way or another.

Y/N was off too college as soon as she turned 18. She finally got to be back home after 2 years for longer than a few weeks; the reason wasn't something to be happy about since a virus had spread across the world and was killing people at an alarming rate. Which meant school, colleges, offices had all shut down and were working from home. When she hugged her grandma for the first time in 6 months; "You've gotten thinner since the last time I saw you" she squinted her eyes at her grandma. "You know how it is with age, I don't have the appetite anymore" her grandmother reasoned. "Well, you should still eat. I'm gonna make sure you gain weight before I leave" Y/N said determined. "Sure, sweetheart" she laughed. "Let's have food. It's nice to have everyone back home, together for once" she emphasised. Y/N held her grandmother's hand as they walked to the dining table for lunch.

A month or so after she was back, her grandmother had started feeling ill. She wouldn't be able to hold down any food and she had been complaining of a stomach ache. With COVID restrictions, getting an appointment was extremely difficult. After a week or so, thankfully, her dad was now at the doctor's office with his mother. The kids were at home, dotting it down to the regular stomach flu which was taking longer than usual to clear.

What came as a surprise to the family, after a couple tests was that, the matriarch of the house was suffering from stomach cancer. Couple more tests later, and it said that it had advanced quite a bit having spread all over the body. The doctors weren't sure what they could do other than ease her pain. Everyone was crying in their rooms while trying to hold a tough facade in front of Anika, so as to not worry her.

At breakfast, a few days after the diagnosis. "You lot are all cry babies. It's just cancer. I'll get the treatment and be well" Anika smiled. Everyone hoped what she was saying was true. But as the treatments started; things started to get worse for her. The medicines were taking a toll on her. Their once active grandmother was reduced to bathroom runs and staying put in her bed. She barely had the energy to eat on her own.

The matriarch's children were sad and couldn't help but cry since they couldn't do much for their mother other than watch. The grandkids would think of ways to make food exciting for their grandmother. The whole family had come together. They were all living together to care for their ailing mother. "I like this very much" Anika told Y/N. "What do you like, grandma?" she asked. "Having all my children here, fretting over me" she said looking at her 2 children fondly. Y/N smiled, "They always fret over you, for as long as I can remember" she replied. "Hmm...but this feel different...it feels nice" she hummed.

They had a scare a few months later; Anika's health had deteriorated suddenly and needed hospitalisation. When she was admitted in the hospital; everyone went to visit her in turns. "I wish I got to see at least one of my grandkids get married" she said barely above a whisper. She beckoned Y/N forward, "Darling, you're the oldest. You're the smartest. You always listen to your grandma don't you" she cooed. "Grandma, I don't like where this is going." she mumbled. "I know it is too much to ask for but why don't you get married. I'll find you a nice man" she reasoned. "Grandma, no. I'm only 20. I'm not getting married, not yet anyways." she whined. "ugh! I love you grandma, I really do but I don't have any plans of getting married, yet" she said pulling away from her grandma. "I'm going home. I hope you get well soon" she stormed off.

Y/N was fuming, she got that her grandma was sick and wanted to see major milestones in her grandkids lives and she wanted to share her happiness with her too but that doesn't mean she will throw her own granddaughter under the bus. She hated the fact that it was always her who would have to do as the elders told her to. Why couldn't it be her siblings or her cousins for once? Why did she have to get a married now? She has so much she wants to achieve, she can't be tied down just yet. People her age barely even remembered the name of the person they last slept with and she should get married; her grandma had gone crazy, she thought.

While Y/N was losing her mind because her grandma wanted her married; Carlos Sainz Junior was losing his mind since he got a contract with Ferrari next year.

In the world of Formula One, there was a change in tide. Sebastian Vettel would no longer be driving for Ferrari in the upcoming season; instead he was being replaced with an up and coming driving Carlos Sainz who was currently driving for McLaren. COVID had put a damper on things; but nothing could contain Carlos's excitement. He would be driving in red next year, something almost every driver had dreamt of when they dreamt of Formula One.

Carlos was your typical Formula One driver, he asked his father for guidance since he was a Rally Champion and looked up to some great drivers as inspiration. He had big plans; plan of winning his first race, plans of winning a championship title, plans of racing until he was 60 but none of those plans involved getting married any time soon. He couldn't imagine himself settling down, just yet even though his sister was planning on getting married herself. He had a long way to go; the biggest obstacle, he wasn't dating anyone as of yet so obviously marriage was off the table for the foreseeable future.

Now, there's a saying, sickness brings the lost together. That's exactly what had happened. Carlos senior had grown up with a family, albeit only for a few years of his childhood but those were formative years and he had spent a lot of his time with the Kastner family. They were his neighbours and even after they had moved away, they had still stayed in touch. He wouldn't forget their kindness and hospitality. For the few years that they were around he was incharge of making sure the oldest of the Kastner family, Ivan got to and back from school safely.

When Carlos senior found out about the ailing health of Mrs Kastner who would make him delicious food and baby sat them when necessary, he flew in as soon as he could with his family in tow. COVID didn't make it easy to visit the sick but Carlos senior would be damned if he didn't meet or introduce his kids to the woman he talked about. Carlos senior greeted Ivan, "You've aged" he laughed patting his back. "As if you haven't" he clapped back. The two happy to see each other after a very long time apart. "I heard Aunt Anika is sick" Carlos senior spoke. "News travels fast" Ivan chuckled. "Not fast enough since she's been sick for a while and I only found out after she was admitted" Carlos senior pointed out. "Yes, yes, she'll be discharged soon. She's been doing so much better for the past few days" Ivan explained. "That's good to know" Carlos senior sighed. "Can we meet her?" he asked hopeful. "I think she'll be over the moon when she find out you've come. She kept up with all your races" Ivan added. "I'm glad she did. I think it was the combined prayers of my mother and yours that I'm still alive after being this reckless" Carlos senior laughed. "That I will not disagree with" Ivan smiled opening the door to the hospital room where Anika was reading the day's paper. She placed the paper down to see who it was and a smile broke out on her face; "Carlos, darling, how've been? I've missed you" she spoke trying to get up but Carlos senior was already by her side, "Don't get up. I'm right here" he leaned down and hugged her. "I've missed you too." he whispered. She patted his back, "I see you've done well for yourself" she said scanning the faces of the 4 people behind him. He pulled away and introduced his wife and 3 kids to her. "Did he get into rallying just like his father?" she asked shaking Carlos junior's hand. "Worse, he's in Formula One" Carlos senior smiled. "Darling, stay safe. I might have to start praying for one more now" she shook her head. "This is the woman who was best friend's with your grandmother and they love each other too much" Carlos senior announced to his kids. "What team does he race for?" Anika asked Carlos senior drawing his attention. "I'm racing for McLaren now, but I'll be racing for Ferrari next year" Carlos junior replied. "congratulations dear. And Carlos, a bit narcissistic I think to name your kid after you" she laughed.

The atmosphere was lively and bright, everyone was busy catching up with each other and trying to let each other know what was going on with the other.

In all of this, the gears in Anika's head were spinning. If Carlos's son, Carlos was single he would be the right fit for her grand daughter. She had always adored and dotted on Carlos senior growing up, so it would only make sense that she would want a good family to take care of her grand daughter. If there's anything to go by how Carlos senior turned out, Carlos junior would fit right in with their family. She felt giddy thinking about the possibility of merging their two families. She knew if everything went well, they could easily be getting married at the end of the year or the beginning of the next. She just wanted what was good for her grand daughter, having something nice come out of it like a handsome and rich husband was a bonus.

The Sainz would be staying in town for a few days before they would be leaving. Anika had invited them over for dinner once she would be discharged since she couldn't send them away without feeding them herself. It was a day before her discharge and she was sat with both Ivan and Carlos. "Since the two of you are here, there's a proposition I would like to make" she said. The two men sat up straight waiting for Anika to continue. "I might not live long" she began but was cut off by mutual 'nos and you'll live a long life' before she shushed them. "Let's listen to the doctors and I know they are trying their best but we have to be realistic too. If I do live long, I'll get to watch the happiness unfold if don't then I'll at least be a part of some of it." she explained. The two men were very confused with where she was trying to go. "I want to make a proposition like I said, I think it would be great if Carlos's son, Carlos married Ivan's daughter, Y/N. I've always wanted to watch my grand kids get married, this way I can die happy" she finished. Their mouths opened and closed a few times before Carlos spoke, "Aren't they still too young?" he asked. "It's just a suggestion, it's up to you two and them to decided if they'll go through with it. Would I be happy if they got married? Obviously but at the end of the day it'll all up to the kids. I just want what's best for them" Anika said. The two men were thinking. They were stuck. "You two can think about it, maybe we can introduce them to each other at the dinner tomorrow" Anika said hopeful. This was going to be difficult conversation to have for both Carlos and Ivan, they thought.

Taglist- @herexpertcollector @redrevvedup @chaostudee @larastark3107 @jovialpainterunknown @vip-access @sugarvibez @champomiel @inarabee @virazeeee @seonghwaexile @champ15ns @ajthefujoshi @musicheaux @npcmia @marvel-ous-miss-maisie @mochipatch @gleeblegnarp @formula1-motogpfan @taliya8346282844eliviahdgdajs

[woso-dreamzzz]

Playing Favourites V

Leah Williamson x Child!Reeader

Summary: The Euros

The day before the final, you're in tears.

It's all Leah's fault and she sobs too.

They'd had some morning training before Sarina had sent them all off to spend time with their family before the match tomorrow. Leah had slipped out of the hotel as soon as she could, passing Alessia and her little sister on the way and then bumped into Mary taking her own little sister to a café.

It seems that everyone had the same idea to hang out with their little siblings because Leah had that idea too, collecting you from Mum and immediately taking you to the park.

You're still tiny and your little legs get very tired so Leah carries you most of the way until she can sit you on her lap on the swings.

You really like the swings, giggling every time Leah pumps her legs and goes a bit higher.

She doesn't see you too much but it's safe to say that you're still in that stage where you absolutely adore her. You're still at that point where everything Leah does is hysterically funny and cool and you want to do exactly what she's doing, no matter how small you actually are.

Which is probably why you don't tell her that she's pushing you too fast on the roundabout. It's going very quickly and it makes your head all dizzy.

Leah keeps pushing it faster and faster and faster though and your tight little grip on the bars loosens and you shoot off it like a rocket.

The roundabout is still spinning as Leah stares in horror at your little crumpled body. You sit up, bottom lip wobbling and promptly burst into tears.

She swears and leaps into action, brushing the dirt off your clothes before checking your head.

You've got a cut on your forehead. It's not bad or anything, it's barely bleeding but you whine and sob every time she touches it.

"I'm sorry, bean," She coos to you as you try to bat her hand away," Just a second. Just a little more. You're being so big and strong."

Leah's digging in the little backpack she packed for you and pulls out that most outrageously big plaster she can find before sticking it firmly to your head.

You sniffle. "Kiss better," You order.

"You want me to kiss it better?"

"Magic healing kisses," You say," Like Mummy's."

"Okay, bean," Leah says, pursing her lips," Are you ready? Here comes Leah's magic healing kisses." She presses multiple all over the plaster and then several more over your cheeks until you are no longer crying.

"Play more?" You ask, pointing over at the slide and Leah winces at the idea of you falling off it.

She shakes her head. "Let's go meet up with Mum. We're having lunch with her, remember?"

You huff but allow yourself to be led away by Leah before you're hefted up into her arms when another bolt of guilt jolts down her spine at the plaster on your head.

"Oh, what happened, little bean?" Your mummy asks when you both join her at the restaurant.

"Fell," You say with a little shrug, completely over it now as you draw all over your puzzle page," On spiny thing. Splat on the ground."

"I spun it too fast," Leah says sadly when your attention is fully on your drawing again," And she got flung off it. She was bleeding, Mum. It was terrible. She was crying."

"She's little," Her Mum says," She cries when she's a particularly cute puppy. It was probably shock, Leah. She's fine now and that's what matters."

"It was my fault. I'm such a bad sister."

"Leah, you're a good sister. You had today off and what did you do? You decided to take Bean to the park. You're a good sister. She adores you."

Leah isn't really convinced but she settles as you blindly reach out for another crayon.

"Bean, did you have fun at the park with Leah?"

You didn't look up at your mummy's question but you do nod your head. "Played on swings," You say as you scrawl the yellow on the Leah stick figure you've drawn," And fed ducks. Got ouchy but Leah did magic kisses so all better."

"That's nice," Your mummy says," Now, do you know what you want for lunch yet?"

You're on Leah's mind all throughout the match the next day, all the way until the final whistle and all throughout the medal ceremony.

"Look, bean!" Leah says as she pulls you over the barrier.

"Medal!"

"It is!" Leah laughs. She wraps an England flag around your shoulders, tying the corners together so it's like a cape. "Here, put it on."

She slips it over your head and you poke at it, the sudden weight around your neck feels a little weird but Leah is beaming so you smile too.

You don't leave her arms for the entirety of the pitch side celebrations, even when you completely crash out against her. Further up the pitch, Leah can spy Mary swinging her own little sister around while Alessia's little sister is kicking a ball around with her and Ella.

You're exhausted though, knocked out cold in Leah's arms with her medal still around your neck and the plaster from yesterday still stuck firmly across your forehead.

"Hey, man," Leah says as one of the photographers walks past," Do you mind?"

She beams at the camera, adjusting her grip on you so your sleeping face can be seen properly.

It takes a few hours for her to get sent the photo to her phone but it immediately becomes her Instagram profile picture and her lock screen.

It gets hung up in her locker too, so everyone can see you and her together.

[aibloomie]

Hello! I'm a fan of the way you write and I love your blog!

I noticed that requests were open so here I go-

Can you write headcanons on how Scaramouche, Diluc and Cyno would react to their s/o getting flustered and randomly hiding their face onto the characters body (neck, back, etc.)

Sorry if that is a weird request and thank you ♡

HIDING YOUR FLUSTERED SELF ON THEM

✧ featuring — scaramouche, cyno, and dilic x gn!reader

thank you for the request and for your patience on how long it took for me to write it </3 this was really cute to write and I apologize in advance if cyno is ooc, this was my first time writing for him 

one of scaramouche’s delights when it came to you was kissing you out of the blue just to make your mind go blank and proceed to then tease you over how easy it is to catch you off guard. it was so fun because not only does he get to feel your lips against his (which he loves way more than he’ll ever admit), but he also gets to see your dazed out expression once he pulls away, seeing that you’re in a mix of wanting more but also trying to remember what you were even doing before he had randomly kissed you.

naturally, you got a little bit fed up with the smugness in his face whenever he saw your flustered expression. you love him with all your heart, but if you saw that smirk one more time then you might just have to dropkick him.

so now, before you could see the amused glint in his eyes when he pulled back, you instead resorted to burying your face into the crook of his neck, which certainly left him the confused and flustered one for a split second. 

of course you couldn't see—but his cheeks blossomed with the prettiest shade of pink, he was taken aback. his hearstrings felt as if they had been tugged ever so gently. how was it even possible for you to be so cute? for you to make him adore you even more than what he thought was feasible?

“what are you-” it takes him a while to realize why you had done that. congrats, because your plan failed and the gesture made the boldness in his chest come back.

“my, my. are you going to do this every time I succeed in teasing you?” scaramouche asks, his voice oozing with gratification. “because if that's the case, I guess my neck will be your new home from now on.”

(he says that now but there will definitely be a time where he gives in and leans his head against yours, tilting his hat down when he feels his cheeks heat up, and he stays in that position with you in comfortable and loving silence)

cyno, who tried to soothe your stressed out self in the manner he believed to be the best when it came to balancing out the atmosphere in the room. yes, attempting to make you laugh. he sat beside you and looked at you seriously, which almost made you ask if something was the matter but he spoke first.

“your legs must be very tired,"

“wh-”

“because you’ve been running through my head all day.”

being his lover, of course you were accustomed to his habit of trying to lighten up the mood that stemmed from him wanting to be less intimidating. but they usually didn’t come in the form of a pick up line, and it left you momentarily forgetting about what was stressing you out in the first place.

you felt your face heating up as you started laughing before you hid your face against the side of his shoulder. 

“you’re laughing.” cyno noted, a VERY small (but pleased) smile formed on his face. “I guess my humor isn’t as bad as some people make it seem.”

but cyno could feel the heat that was rising on your face as you continued thinking about his gesture. eventually, your shaking body from your laughter came to an end and his interest was piqued. “did I make you laugh so hard you passed out?”

his question came out so matter of factly that it just made you laugh again. “not yet, silly.” your response was short, but he could tell from the way your voice wavered that you were off in la la land. he pieced it together and figured that the contents of his joke must have had an effect on you.

warmth spread through his chest at that new found knowledge. “hm, I’ll have to make more of these jokes in the future." he was surprisingly pleased by your reaction, and waited patiently for you to raise your head so he could catch your flustered state and relish the sight.

diluc was in bed with you, both of you turned towards each other as you guys talked about anything that came to mind. his hand reached over behind you to soothe your back, his touch along with the softened fiery eyes that stared into yours made fireworks go off in you. you paused midsentence.

he raised a brow, humming to indicate his confusion.

he caught a glimpse of your flustered expression, right before you wrapped your arms around him and buried your face snuggly into his chest. his cheeks flared crimson, and you could tell how he was feeling without even seeing his face because you could hear his now quickened heartbeat. 

“my love, are you alright?” his question came out a little awkwardly as he struggled with thinking of something else to say. he then placed one of his hands behind your head gently, honestly not minding the touch, and he wouldn’t be opposed to staying in that position with you for longer. 

your words came out muffled against his chest, and diluc found himself smiling at the sound and he regained his composure. he didn't make an attempt to pull you back or tease you, not wanting to embarass you in any way. his words were reassuring though, coming out like silk from his mouth.

"we can stay like this for as long as you need to.”

[luveline]

Girl pls pls write stripper reader and Spencer where she thinks he would never date her bc she’s a stripper and just a sprinkle of angst with lots of comforting fluff and Spencer reassuring

thank u for requesting! ♡ fem, 1.5k

cw mentioned past domestic/workplace abuse, unhealthy eating habits

Someone broke into my apartment. 9:14AM

Spencer reads the message under the table but forgoes discretion when he registers what it says and who it's from. He excuses himself from the round table, something he isn't even sure he's allowed to do, and hurries out onto the landing. 

You answer on the second dial. "Hey, did you see my text?" you ask. 

"Are you okay?" He squeezes his phone. 

"I'm not sure. I'm fine, but my lock is busted and the door won't stay shut." 

"Where are you?" 

If you're surprised that he's steamrolling, you don't show it. Spencer leaves work to meet you at the coffee shop you've chosen for refuge, your eyes tired, a small bag of your most important possessions hanging on a slumped shoulder. He hugs you straight away. 

"I'm fine," you say into his neck. 

He hugs you tighter. "That's good," he says, feeling useless, fingers stroking little paths into your shoulders. He pictured the worst from your text, and seeing you in person is the only true mitigator. You'll talk down bruises and black eyes —you have in the past. 

He pulls the story from you as you walk back to his apartment, shoulder to shoulder in the cold street. "It was open when I got home, the door, but I did what you asked me to." 

"You didn't go in?" he confirms proudly. 

"Not at first." 

"You really won't call the police?" 

"I texted you." 

Spencer takes the strap of your bag from you and throws it over his own. "I'm not that kind of cop. I'm not really a cop at all." 

"No, you're a fed, which is worse. The girls at work told me to stay away from you." You wipe under your eyes sluggishly. Sleep clings to you like a shadow trailing behind you, ever-present. 

He puts his hand behind your back, worried you'll fall up the steps to his apartment building. "They think I'll what, extort you?" 

You shake your head, something sad in the slow side to side. "Girls like me have no business around guys like you." 

"You probably get too much business from guys like me." 

You laugh, but you both know it's not what you meant. Spencers noticed it more and more lately, nothing so obvious until now, this dead set belief you hold that he's one type of person and you're another. He gets that your work isn't what you wanted for yourself when you were growing up. He knows it isn't easy, even on your 'good' nights. It takes a toll to be seen as you are, nothing left private. But you've always said you liked stripping as much as anyone should like their job. "It's a job," you'd said, having barely known him, tired and hungry, curled up on his couch with nowhere else to go. "Only the luckiest get to really enjoy work. S'why it's called work." 

He'd hoped, perhaps in a self-absorbed way, that  having more support might make you feel better about yourself; he wanted his friendship to give you some confidence, basically. Before you met Spencer there was no one else you could depend on. It's why you stayed working for a man who broke your wrist until Spencer weaselled his way into your life and made you a bed in his living room for the time it took to get you out. His credentials helped, of course, but you survived it because you're resilient. You're awesome. You've done everything you can with what you have and you don't think it's enough. 

You and Spencer take the elevator to his floor, and for the twenty seconds it takes to get there, you let your cheek rest on his shoulder. He's just about to drop his head on top of yours when the doors open, and the slice of quiet you'd both savoured slips like sand between his fingers. 

"I can go back and get some of your stuff," he offers, guiding you the short walk to his door. He passes you the key rather than struggle with the lock himself. 

Your hand shakes as you push down the handle. "There's nothing worth going back for." 

"Don't say that, you have all your clothes there, your couch. You have things. I'll take my car." 

"You hate driving." 

"I'd hate someone robbing you even more." 

"Robbing me again," you correct, holding the door for him. 

You didn't have anything worth the trouble, it seems. You keep your savings in a locked box hidden in the bathroom that they couldn't find, and though your apartment is clean and bigger than the one you lived in before Spencer met you, it's mostly empty. You don't have a TV, you're not a collector. They took the radio off of the refrigerator, your microwave oven, and a box of cosmetic jewellery worth chapel change. 

"But it's your stuff. You deserve to have stuff." Spencer drops your bag gently and his with less care by the door. 

"It's only until the locksmith can come tomorrow," you say with a yawn. "Let the junkies lavish in my stuff for the next twenty hours." 

"That's not a problem for you?" 

"I don't have the luxury of that being a problem for me, Spence. What am I supposed to do? The locksmith can't come–" 

"There are a hundred locksmiths." 

"Not that I can afford." You shrug out of your jacket. "Spence, listen to me. It's okay. I can't ask you to do that, anyways. You've done more than enough for me already," you say, sitting on the couch. You perch for a moment like you're trying to be polite until fatigue overtakes you, and you sink into the cushions with a relieved sigh. 

Spencer crosses the space between you and kneels by your feet to untie your shoelaces. 

"Don't do that," you mumble, hand over your mouth as a second yawn in as many minutes catches you. 

"Why not?" He slips your shoes off, letting his hand rest on your ankle. "Wanna watch that weird cooking show–" 

"Why aren't you at work?" 

He climbs onto the couch next to you, unafraid to sit shoulder to shoulder. "You were having an emergency." 

You rub your face with both hand. "I knew I shouldn't have called you. You can't just leave work because of me, Spencer, what if you get in trouble?" 

"Someone I care about needed my help, and Hotch understands that." Spencer puts on his big boy pants with a wince. "Do you get that?" 

"I don't really… I don't…" You falter. "We're never going to work. You'll never…" 

"I'll never what?" he asks insistently, voice lilting up with a little incredulity. He can't help it.

You refuse to answer, turning your face from his. 

Spencer knows what you're going to say. He's bad with girls but he's good at recognising human emotion; he sees the same insecurity in himself as he does in you. He knows the feeling. 

You're not right, is the thing. 

Spencer would kiss you if he thought that would change your mind. But tired as you are, angry with yourself, defeated, he knows it's not a good idea. He takes your hand instead, sewing your fingers together with a deliberate slowness. He brings his other hand to them and strokes the back of your index finger with his thumb, careful not to disrupt your press on nails. He knows they have a tendency to come off with too much pressure, and you're always losing your glue. 

"If they really need me to go, they'll call me. But I'm staying here." His thumb moves down to your knuckle. You have little calluses and cuts and bruises everywhere from dancing. He's seen the contusions that line your thighs on a semi permanent basis. "When was the last time you had something to eat?"

"Spencer," you murmur. 

"Let me take care of you, please," he says, hand curling around your wrist with extreme gentleness. "You need to eat. You need to sleep. Let me worry about everything else for once, I want to." 

You still don't look at him, but you sink down an inch at a time until your cheek is on his shoulder again, like it had been in the elevator. Hesitant, you wrap your arm around his stomach. 

"I'm so stupid," you say. 

He wonders if that's a placeholder for what you really want to say. You think so little of yourself sometimes, but it's like you've told him before. Not everyone has the luxury of enjoying their job. 

"You're amazing." Spencer feels like he's on fire everywhere that your skin touches him. Is he saying the right things? "You are. You're the only person who doesn't see that." 

"The only person here, maybe." 

"You should always be here, then. With me. That way I can remind you." 

You sound more like yourself when you answer, though tiredness lines every word, "Thank you, Spencer. I don't deserve you." 

"Yes, you do."

Spencer rubs your hand until you fall asleep, and then he buys you a new toaster oven on his phone, and an industrial security lock. He doesn't know what it'll take to convince you that you deserve him, you deserve better, but he's gonna try. 

He presses his cheek to your temple and focuses on the softness of your skin where it touches his.  

[azzo0]

Exam Season

Summary: Katsuki comforts you when you feel frustrated revising for exams. 

Pairing: Bakugo x gn!reader

Contains: a wee bit of crying with fluff

wc: 1.1k

Katsuki furrowed his eyebrows at you, sitting in the common room as everyone went about their after-school studies, given the third-year final exams were fast approaching. He stared at you, noticing the dark circles under your eyes as you bit the inside of your cheek, nose buried deep in a textbook. 

You'd been a little distant lately, and it pissed Katsuki off. You arrived early to class to get some studying done before Katsuki could greet you over breakfast and left the classroom first so you could get to the dorms and revise. Whenever the bakusquad invited you to hang out, you shot them down with the excuse, 'I have a lot of revision to do.' 

He could see the signs of exhaustion creeping all over you. You were yawning and rubbing your eyes again. His eyebrow twitched in annoyance when he saw you reach for the freshly made cup of coffee, your eyes glued to the textbook, unaware everyone had begun packing up their books to hit the bed. He waited for everyone to leave, pretending to flip a page or two when his attention was really on you. 

The common room was soon deserted, with only you and Bakugo being the ones behind. He stood up and walked over to you, "Oi."

You looked up from the textbook to see your boyfriend looking down at you sternly, his arms crossed and legs apart in a dad stance, "It's time for bed."

"I'll go after I finish this section," You replied, "It's a little tricky and-"

"You've been studying the whole fuckin' day with no breaks, Y/n." Bakugo reasoned, "You'll get tired. C'mon, let's go."

"'Suki, please," you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, "I don't have it in me to argue with you right now, so please let me be."

Bakugo opened his mouth to shoot a reply, closing it instead when he saw the gloomy look on your face as you stared at the textbook again. He heard your stomach rumble and gave you one last glance before leaving. 

Truth be told, you felt bad for ignoring him for the past couple of days, but you had not realised it while studying for the exams. You scrubbed your face and let out a long exhale, bringing your knees to your chest. Your stomach rumbled again, reminding you it needed to be fed. Ignoring your pleading tummy, you rummaged through your bag and pulled out a notebook and a pen to complete an exercise, forcing yourself to stay awake. The coffee seemed to be doing the opposite of keeping you open-eyed. 

You gritted your teeth in irritation when you got a question wrong. You had watched online lectures for this very topic over and over again, and yet you still managed to mess it up. Frustrated, you tossed the pencil to the other side of the room, glaring down at the paper with your eyes blurring and stinging.

Katsuki happened to walk into the room just then, a plate with a sandwich in hand. He saw you staring at your notebook with glossy eyes. He was beside you in an instant, setting the plate on the coffee table and putting his hands on your shoulders, "Hey, hey, what's wrong?"

You shook your head and wiped your eyes. Katsuki took your wrists, putting them down. He cradled your face ever so gently, making you look at him. He wiped away the tears with his thumb and kissed your closed eyelids. He brought your head to his chest and slowly moved his hand up and down your back while pressing sweet kisses into your hair. 

"You wanna talk about it?" He asked after a few minutes of silence, patiently waiting for your response. 

"I just-" you muffled into his shirt, "I feel tired of not being able to achieve the grades I work so hard for. It's frustrating getting all these papers back to see all that work was for nothing. I want to do better on these exams, Katsuki. I'm trying my best, but I'm so scared I'll mess up."

You pulled away from his shirt, rubbing your eyes, "And this stupid chapter is so annoying I can't understand it no matter how many videos I watch on YouTube."

"That's it?" Bakugo said once you were done, "That's what you're worried about?"

"Easy for you to say when you're on top of the class," You glared through wet lashes, "some of us have to work thrice as hard and still can't make it to the top."

"I didn't mean it that way, Y/n," He said with apologetic eyes, taking your hands. He kissed the inside of your wrist, moving up your arm and onto your cheek, getting you to giggle when his eyelashes tickled your skin. He pulled back with a grin, cupping your cheek. 

"Don't compare yourself to me or others. Got that? You're you, and that's okay. Besides, It's not like the world will end if you don't get an A." He tilted your chin towards him when you looked down sullenly, "Or will it?"

"It won't." You mumbled. 

"Damn right. It's just a stupid piece of paper. It isn't going to define you or your life." He finished with a kiss on your forehead, "You got that?"

"Mhm."

"Can't hear ya, sweets." 

"Yes, sir."

Katsuki pinched your cheeks and squished them together, planting a kiss on your lips. Satisfied with your goofy smile, he gave you the sandwich, "Eat up."

Your heart stirred when you took the sandwich from him. Why was he so sweet? 

Katsuki pulled your textbook to himself to see which unit you were working on, eyes skimming over your notes thoughtfully, "You could have come to me if you needed help with this, you know?"

"You're busy preparing too, 'Suki." 

"I know, but I could've still helped you out with it." He said, closing the textbook, "No more studying for now. After you finish that sandwich, I'm taking your ass straight to bed. If you rest well, yer going to be able to grasp the concepts better."

"Okay," you smiled, munching on the sandwich.

"There's still three weeks till the exams, so we're goin' out tomorrow to freshen up that cute little head of yours," he said, poking a finger on your forhead, "No thinkin' about school or exams or books. Just a day out with you and me. After that, I'm helping you study, alright?"

"Sounds nice," you hummed.

He huffed and silently watched you eat. Seeing you smile again with bright eyes as you rocked back and forth while eating made him feel content. As soon you were done eating, he grabbed you by the wrist and hoisted you up, throwing you over his shoulder without a warning. 

"Katsuki!" You squealed. 

"Hup, hup, time for bed."

A/N: It's exam season, and I haven't been feeling my best. This is for everyone studying for exams and tests. Don't forget to take breaks and get plenty of sleep. Good luck :)

[gyuswhore]

the story of us ✦ j.w.w x reader

the story of us looks a lot like a tragedy now - the story of us

synopsis: So many walls that you can't break through; except you do.

wc: 2.1K

contains: best friends to lovers, angst, fluff, humour, happy ending, alcohol, arguments

masterlist

Support creators by reblogging!

[a/n]: im exhausted, im loopy, im hungry, but i really wanted to post this so here you go my babies I'm sorry i haven't fed you in so long (ty @toruro for making sure i wasn't talking out of my ass in this ily)

[edit; 11/04/24]: grammar and spelling.

Jeon Wonwoo was nearing boiling point when he watched you push him away from yet another conversation.

He tried to understand, just like he always had. But it was proving near impossible at the five-month mark. 

There were clear signs you exhibited when you needed space, for whatever reason, Wonwoo knew you would tell him when you recovered. So he gave you what you needed.

And yet, when he finds himself pushed away from what looks like a casual conversation between your mutual friends, he finds his mild annoyance grow into something hotter. 

There’s a clench in his jaw as he tries not to squeeze the red cup in his hand with too much pressure, even when all the spiteful bit of his brain wants to do is to pour its pigmented contents all over your cream outfit. He manages to control himself, choosing to get up and exit the premises entirely. In complete silence, he refuses to acknowledge any yell of his name from passing acquaintances. 

Jeon Wonwoo refused to respond to any of your advances after that. 

Invitations to lunch were left on a jarring sent, the notification sitting in his log until he chooses to open it too late. His response was bare when you asked for help on some accounting concepts, pushing you over into Jihoon’s hands to fulfill your requirements. There’s a blatant shrug when you touch his shoulder, concerned, asking why his behaviour had become so distant in the past weeks; he responds with a mumble of, “just tired”.

The great divide happened a few days proceeding your birthday, one for which Wonwoo did nothing for but send you a quick message during the evening, never to see you throughout the extended day. 

“I can’t believe you’re putting this on me!” you all but yell, eyes wide and expression exasperated at the situation.

“Are you blind? Or just plain stupid? Because I didn’t tolerate months of your shit attitude to have you say it isn’t your fault.” Wonwoo is breathing heavily, hands motioning towards your entire figure with equal disbelief.

“What attitude?” you emphasize. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know I couldn’t be upfront with my best friend.”

“There’s a difference between being in a mood and blatant disrespect. I’m tired of having to put up with your mood swings like it’s my responsibility to coddle you. When was the last time you genuinely asked me how I was doing?”

“All the time!”

“Yeah, after you realize there's nobody else to whine and wail to!”

“Wonwoo, you’re being ridiculous.”

“Fine. If I’m clearly so unhinged, I’ll leave you to your liking.” 

The dwindled interactions, from messages to hellos, went from sparing to nonexistent — just like that. 

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t expect for you and Wonwoo to reconcile in the matter of a few days, if not a couple weeks.

But when the distance did nothing but grow larger, there was a settle of resentment in the pit of your stomach as you accepted the feud you were in. 

A text was sent from your phone a couple days after the incident.

[You]: can we talk?

But when you see no sign of the grey Delivered on the end, you knew he had blocked you. 

This was all nothing less than baffling to you for a number of reasons, starting with how you had never witnessed Wowoo acting this way. 

Wonwoo had done nothing but reprimand you the rare chance you suggested blocking an apprehensive individual, something about not showing that you cared. His voice seemed redundant after a certain decibel, the rarest chance to witness him yell at a failed video game or a frustrating professor. 

You know better, which is the only reason you’re ruling off paranormal possession. 

The claims against you came as an afterthought, not, however, rendering them any less strange. There’s a part of you that pondered if your shield of annoyance blocked you from seeing the truth in his words and in your behaviour, finding yourself overwhelmed with emotions when the thought crossed your mind, tears of frustration immediately blurring your vision. 

You did not understand, you could not. And when it all got too much, you allowed the hurt and confusion to turn into something more dangerous. You replaced it with anger, in the same place that once occupied a more delicate emotion. 

There was an uproar in Wonwoo’s mind when he sees you walk into the lecture hall, unaware of your overlapping schedule in the new semester. He watches as your eyes pass over the moderately packed space, briefly glancing over where he sat; if you saw him, you did nothing to bring a reaction out of it. You take a seat a few rows up front, right in front of him where he’s able to see the back of your head for the next two hours — for the rest of the semester. 

He wonders if it’s too late to switch classes. 

“Wonwoo, I honestly think this is getting out of hand.” Jihoon munches on his cashews, leaning against bark of the tree they were both sat under. 

“Did you want me to keep tending to her bullshit then?” he grumbles.

“That’s not what I’m saying, you know it’s not.”

“That’s what it sounds like.” Wonwoo’s retort is brisk.

Jihoon is suddenly snapping his fingers in his face at the reply, a flinch accompanies Wonwoo’s already sour expression. 

“See! See how frustrating it is when somebody isn’t making sense?” 

“How does this—” 

“Wonwoo, did you try talking to her about how you felt, you know, without the screaming?” 

Jihoon watches as Wonwoo’s expression clears out, his eyebrows unfurrowing and the scowl fading. He doesn’t speak, choosing to let the realization kick in.

“No.” 

Jihoon sighs, taking another pause. “I’m not saying what she did wasn’t uncalled for, but you need to talk shit out before deciding you hate each other.”

“I don’t hate her.”

“Right, so can we wrap this up quickly and have you confess your undying love so we can all relax.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Heat crawls up Wonwoo’s cheeks.

“What? If you don’t hate her, it’s gotta be the opposite.”

Did Wonwoo like you? Yeah, he probably did. Did he ever let himself ponder upon it? No, because he was downright mortified of the mere thought. He finds himself a hypocrite to say it was to preserve your friendship, but he figures he’s fucked it up in a way that’s arguably worse. 

Regardless, Wonwoo walks away from that conversation with two things: a stark realization, and an even starker admittance. 

Everything was going wrong. At least that’s what it felt like when you hear the clang of your water bottle hit the pavement, rolling off into the oncoming traffic as you sprint to grab it. You nearly cause a vehicle pile-up, swallowing a couple profanities from braking drivers. 

You’re stuffing the darn thing into your bag when you trip on a loose brick on the path, nearly landing on your face. The glare you send into the pavement costs you even more when a hard shoulder bumps into your side, sending you another couple steps back. You don’t bother to see who the perpetrator is, too preoccupied with your attempts to take in deeper breaths amid the blankness of your mind. 

There are no hiccups after that, what you might owe your more conscious mind to. Stomping up the library steps, you thank nothingness for the air conditioning that meets your hot face, slowing down as you take in the crowd. 

Scanning the room for an empty seat is harder than you’d anticipated, hoping the heat would keep students away from the building as you left to get work done. Approaching a table, you set down your bag with a huff, pulling the chair out to finally take the seat you’ve been needing for so long. 

The universe seems to have other plans. 

It’s almost funny the way you and Wonwoo make eye contact across the other table, the recognition sending a jolt through your stomach. 

You’ve never moved so fast, pushing the chair back in with a screech that earns you a few looks, grabbing the handles of your bag as you turn around to leave the building you’d just entered. 

No way you'd sit there. Not when he was around.

You're bounding down the steps when somebody passes you, murmuring something without slowing their stride.

“I’m leaving, you can go inside,” Wonwoo says, and the sound of his voice has you halting almost immediately.

Whipping your head around to search for the sound, you watch as he takes a turn at the end of the steps, slowly moving out of your vision. 

There’s a swirl of something in your chest, and you realise in that moment how much you missed hearing his voice. 

Chiding yourself, you blink back the water that wells up in your eyes, embarrassed at how quickly you were losing yourself.

But the damage was done. And you wanted to be reckless, regardless of how desperate it made you look. A split second decision is made in that moment, one that lightens the heavy feet that you’ve planted on the concrete. 

You’re back to bounding down the steps, but this time with aim. 

Taking the same turn you saw Wonwoo take, you break into a sprint as you see his figure move farther away. You keep running, continuing to bump into both objects and people, hurried "sorry"'s the only thing you choose to throw their way. 

“Wonwoo!” Your voice comes out stronger than you’d intended, the sharpness having him turn around in search, eyes landing on your accelerating figure. 

Both of you realize too late how fast you’re really going, the velocity taking you directly into his outstretched arms, hands grasping the sleeves of his shirt as you come to screeching stop directly into his chest. 

You don’t have the time nor the patience to be embarrassed, pulling your face back to look directly into Wonwoo’s bewildered eyes to huff out your next words.

“Why did you block me?” you ask, voice gruff and slightly out of breath.

Wonwoo’s mouth opens and closes like a fish, words refusing to come out. 

“Why are you so mad at me? Why are you being nice to me if you’re mad at me?” You don’t stop, the direct questions tumbling off your tongue in desperation. 

You search his face for an answer when his mouth fails, but all you find is the remnants of shock yet to ebb away. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for making you feel like you weren’t important, I’m sorry for taking your presence for granted, I’m sorry for hurting you, I’m sorry for…for… I don’t know! I’m just really sorry and I don't know how else to make this right.”

“I’m sorry, too,” you hear him say and you feel the moisture return to your eyes. 

“Huh?”

“I should’ve…” he pauses, looking sheepish. “I should’ve talked to you before I, y’know, went off on you. I should’ve managed my feelings better, I’m sorry.” 

You're silent for a few tantalizing moments before you raise your fists, and pound down on his chest with everything you have. You do it again, and then again, and again—

“What?- Ow!” 

“When are you gonna stop bottling up your feelings for fucks sake, it’s landed you everywhere but good!” you say, nearly yelling.

Wonwoo whips his head around to see who’s listening, palm to mouth in attempts to silence you. 

“I’m sorry! I know! I’m working on it,” he rambles, trying to get you to quit struggling. “Jihoon and I talked, that’s why I realised I was being dumb.”

“Are you gonna unblock me now or do I need to pay Jihoon to sit down with you again?”

Wonwoo’s eyebrows furrow. “You payed Jihoon to sit with me?”

“No, you idiot. But I should have because you can’t seem to figure out how to feel emotions.” 

Wonwoo can’t help himself when he breaks out into a grin, letting out a breathy chuckle that has you asking “What?”.

He pulls you in, heart to heart in an embrace, holding you tight to make up for the weeks of no contact. He breathes in your scent and feels as though he hasn’t in years. 

“I’m not gonna come running up to you the next time you decide you hate me,” you mumble into his shoulder, pouting slightly.

“I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

“No.” Wonwoo pulls away but keeps you in his arms, looking at you, “I love you. Like, the kind of stuff that makes you wanna live together forever. I love you.” 

It’s your turn to gape like a fish. 

“W-what?”

“You told me not to bottle up my feelings.” 

“Yeah, but—wow, um.” 

“Did I make another mistake?” 

No! You wanted to scream. But you don’t. You instead lift your hands up to come around his face, cradling it. And you kissed him. 

“I love you, too. Like the live together forever kind.” 

[bg-brainrot]

The Thousandth Time (Astarion x GN!Tav)

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Summary: Astarion and Rogue!Tav make love for the thousandth time. In a bathtub.

Tags: Smut, Slice of life, POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Spawn Astarion, Post-Canon, bathtub sex, sloppy sex, seriously just sickeningly sweet smut, Spawn Astarion, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Domesticity is romantic, Hand Jobs, Blood Drinking

A/N: Some context-- I wanted to write soft, gender neutral smut. And by the gods is this soft. I tried to look at what it's like to love someone for so long. In my experience, when you've been with someone for so many years, you still find a lot of love in the little things. which I hope I hit? Anyway, enjoy!!

Word count: ~5.3k

The thousandth time you make love to Astarion, you don't know it's the thousandth time.

It's a day like any other, really.

After a long day at the guild, you've arrived home, a sigh on your lips, a furrow to your brow.

"Whatever is the matter, my dear?"

You compose your expression and turn toward your lover. "Astarion," you start, a reflexive wistfulness to your tone. Gods are you glad to see him after a day like today. "Nothing is the matter. Nothing important anyway. Simply glad to be home."

Astarion gives you a look that says he doesn't quite believe you, but knows better than to pry too deeply into issues you'd rather not bring home. "Very well, darling. But you know I'm all pointy ears. Especially if Nine-Fingers has been difficult again."

"Ugh," you say, wincing in annoyance. "Do not say her name right now."

The vampire gives you a bright, toothy laugh. "That bad, eh?" You nod. He walks toward you, arms outstretched. "Mmm in that case, shall we call it an early night tonight?"

You dive into the comfort of his arms, holding him to you, inhaling his fresh, familiar scent. It feels like the day's troubles melt in his cold embrace, and the tension in your body finally relaxes. "That might be nice."

"Dinner first?" he asks, pulling away from you slightly.

You look into his warm crimson eyes, feel that same warmth reflected in your face. Of course, he’d check to see if your mortal needs have been met. "No need, I've eaten. How about you?"

Astarion brings a hand up to inspect your face, this way, then that. It’s as if he’s examining you for injury, not assessing if he can partake in a bit of your blood. "Mmm, you seem a tad tired, love."

"You know I'll manage. Besides, get my blood while it's still boiling with rage," you say, craning your neck for him in response.

"As delectable as that sounds,” he begins, letting go of your face, tracing his fingers along your neck. “I think a bath and bed ought to come first."

You want to argue the point, make sure he's fed to the best of your ability, but the yawn that escapes you is irrefutable. With nary another word, his hand is on the small of your back, guiding you toward the bath.

"Would you like to join me?" you ask him as you open the door. Your expression is calm, the question harboring no hidden intentions. Any other day, you may have raised an eyebrow at him suggestively, begun taking off your armor in a tease– but you're tired, simply not wanting to relinquish the feel of his arms around you.

"Certainly, if it keeps you from falling asleep in the tub…" he trails off, looking at you warily. He appears torn, somewhere between keeping you from drowning and keeping you from resting.

You give him a wry smile. “Imagine that. After felling all manner of beasts and men, finally succumbing to the tub.”

Astarion offers you a reluctant smile in return. “My love, I swear to every god above and below, if you die in any manner even remotely that ludicrous, I shall have to pretend not to know you at your funeral.”

“That’s fair,” you say, holding a hand out to him. “Best to make sure that doesn’t happen then, don’t you think?”

The man can’t argue with that, nor does he seem to want to. After an entire day away from each other, this closeness is exactly what the two of you crave. So he takes your offered hand, and follows you into the bathroom.

It has been years since you had added a tub big enough for the two of you in your house. While the two of you had accrued wealth enough for an entire bathhouse, you’d settled for a more modest setup. At least, modest in Astarion’s eyes.

The floor is made of the finest marble tiles, the walls of intricately laid and patterned brick. And in the center of the room, is the room’s main attraction: the enormous, magical tub. It’s long enough that you could comfortably lay down across the entire bottom, wide enough that you have to extend your arms to reach both sides. The outer edges are infused with enchantments to improve your bathing experience, and the tub itself is made of the highest quality crystal that gold can buy.

Once you enter the room, you activate the heat and water sigils along the basin’s edges and turn back to Astarion. “Would you mind grabbing some soaps from the shelf?”

He gives you a lopsided grin, eyes crinkling with amusement, but still moves to do as you ask. “Would you also like me to bathe you while I’m at it?”

“Oh, would you?” you ask half-joking. You begin to strip your armor off, piece by piece.

“Mmm,” he murmurs, picking out a few of his preferred scents from a shelf on the wall. He’s accumulated quite the collection now, enjoying mixing and matching as his nose guides him. “That could be arranged.”

You’re almost halfway through your armor when he returns, bottles of lemon, bergamot, and sage soaps in hand. “Ah, you know how much I love bergamot,” you say, smiling at it fondly, pausing halfway through undoing your leather straps.

“I know,” he says, placing them next to the tub before turning his attention fully to you. “I also know that you need help with that armor or we may be here all night.”

Holding your arms out wordlessly, Astarion starts to unbuckle each and every strap from the front of your padded armor. As he releases you from its confines, you take a deep, relieved breath and say, “Thank you, love.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he murmurs, leaving a long lingering touch along your now exposed collarbone. “While you strike quite the image in your armor, I think I much prefer you without.”

You laugh, feeling quite light in the now steaming room. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say your mind is straying quite far from rest, Astarion.”

The vampire shrugs, beginning to tug at your undershirt and small clothes with each of his hands. “Merely stating fact, my darling.”

With a few smooth movements, he’s taken off the last of your clothing, exposing every inch of you to the warmth of the room and the heat of his gaze. He seems just about ready to bury his head in your neck, begin covering every piece of you in kisses, when you speak, “Excuse me, are you planning to enter the bath in your house clothes?”

Astarion looks down at his own garb, the comfortable satins and silks of a man who spent the day lounging at home. When faced with your words and, ugh, logic, he says with a sigh, “Would you do the honors?”

You need no more invitation before your hands are on his soft, flowing shirt, running along it appreciatively. “Is this new?”

“It is,” he says, a hint of pride in his voice. “Do you like it?”

“It feels magnificent,” you respond, beginning to undo its buttons. “I may just have to steal it for myself one of these days.”

His lips purse at you. “You know, you could simply ask, darling.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” you taunt, pulling up on the shirt's edges, tugging it up and off of him. Now, faced with the plane of his ivory chest, your fingers act on instinct. They trail down his shoulders, trace the line of his pectorals, drop down the center of his stomach to the waist of his pants.

Astarion gives you a low, approving noise before asking you wryly, “Now whose mind is straying?”

“Not mine,” you respond, pulling his pants and underwear down in one smooth motion. “My hands are just so tired, I’m sure you understand.”

“Surely,” he responds, as he pulls each foot out of his pant legs. “How is the water?”

The bath is steaming by now, visibly fogging up the room, but still, you bend down to skim your hands along its surface. “Ah, it’s warm,” you say, gripping the edge with one hand. “Maybe too warm?”

“No such thing,” he responds, and one of his hands lands next to yours as he bends down to feel the water for himself. The man gives a happy hum before asking, “Shall we then?” Then his now-wet hand is smacking your butt, his head gesturing toward the waiting water. 

“Excuse you,” you say, indignantly, as you turn toward him. “I'm tired.” But you don't feel tired. Not after running your hands over his cold skin. Not after feeling the quick contact of his hand on your backside.

“Not to worry, darling. I’ll take care of you.”

As in, bathing or–? Luckily you don't have much more time to think about it before he’s lowering himself into the tub. Even with his quick movement, even with the water’s slight obscurity, you easily note that Astarion’s cock has stirred in interest.

Ah. While you hadn’t meant to illicit anything by inviting him… it’s certainly not unwelcome. It’s a good thing that your exhaustion is all but melting away under his loving touches.

Acutely aware of his sharp gaze on the length of your back, you turn to face away from him, grab the edge of the tub, and slowly enter its warmth. As was customary in your baths, he would start with your back, so you take a spot in front of him, leaving just enough room for him to settle behind you as he pleases.

Too much room clearly, as Astarion immediately scoots forward, extending his legs to each side of you. You feel his hardening length graze your backside as he does so and can’t help the smile that curves your lips.

"Astarion, dear,” you start, placing your hands on each of his knees under the water. “Are you certain you want to bathe me?"

“And why wouldn't I be?” He leans closer, planting a soft kiss along your spine.

You debate backing up into his groin to prove a point but instead shake your head. "No reason, I suppose."

He begins by lathering his hands in a mixture of soaps, carefully measured out by eye and feel. All the while, you sit before him, hands on each of his calves, thumbs repeatedly rubbing the ridge of his muscles. While he’d had a nice, calm day today, his calves are always so tight from sneaking about– and it’s the least you can do for the man that’s bathing you.

Then his hands get to work.

At first he drags both hands along your back, once, twice. Once he’s made sure that soap covers every inch of you, he starts massaging you, working the soap into your skin, kneading into your sore muscles.

Astarion knows your body so intimately and, after so many years of tending to each other, he rubs all of your tightest spots. His knuckles press deep into your neck. His fingers work around your upper back. His thumbs dig underneath the edges of your shoulder blades, working out the knots he knows lay beneath. And, by the gods, if you thought you’d been melting under his caresses before, now you’re practically a puddle.

You can’t help the noises that come out at the sensation of his nimble fingers at work. Your shoulders ache from a long day of sneaking, stabbing, and general tension of dealing with people– the relief is palpable in the way you relax into his touch, grip his legs, and release several breathy moans.

And with each moan, you can feel his cock growing firmer against you. After the first few, you can feel him shift closer with every noise he draws from you. Knowing your affect on him has always done something to stir the fire in you, and this time it has you shifting uncomfortably as heat blooms between your legs. The both of you spur the other’s building lust, all the while the fresh scent that Astarion’s concocted permeates the air.

Then, when it’s clear he’s done with your back, thoroughly satisfied with each gasping breath of pleasure, his hands drop from your shoulders. They tail down your back, playing along your spine. And, in an almost leisurely motion, they wrap around your torso, where they finally settle on your chest.

I don’t think this is a relaxing bath anymore, you think distantly. Yet you’re unable to resist leaning into his palms, arching into his touch.

Sensing your shuffles, Astarion curls further into your back, almost entirely flush to you now. His fingers feel their way to each of your nipples, first gently brushing against them, then thumbing over them each in turn. They respond eagerly, perking up under his delicate sweep.

“Astarion,” you begin, turning your head back to him slightly and raising an eyebrow. “What are you doing?” Your tone isn’t exactly admonishing– your voice comes out too quiet, desire muffling all other emotions.

His hands trail down your chest, past the surface of the bath water, settling on each of your thighs before he responds, voice low, lips inches away from your ear. “Making sure that every single centimeter of my beautiful darling is clean, of course.”

“Astarion, I thought you would be, ahh… taking care of me," you say, barely holding on to your trail of thought as his hands dip between your legs, brushing your sensitive core.

“I am taking care of you,” he whispers, finally closing the remaining distance between your back, his front. At the feel of his stiff cock pressing against your back, you give an involuntary gasp. He seems to enjoy your reaction, taking a moment to slowly grind the entire length of his hardened arousal along your backside once, before he settles between your cheeks. “Unless you’d rather leave all of this stress pent up, my dear?”

You’d been tired– been ready to bathe and head off to bed. But something about this man never fails to ignite the fire in your heart– or your loins. “I suppose not,” you murmur, releasing Astarion’s calf, running up his leg with your fingers, landing on his arm, gripping it closer to you.

“I knew you would see reason,” he says, taking your grip as guidance. His hand moves down to begin stroking your heat, building up steadily to the fast-paced rhythm he knows you like. In the water’s buoyant embrace, his actions feel a touch more fluid, his fingers more silken.

It has taken time experimenting together to reach this place– one of utmost security and intimate knowledge of each others’ bodies. But now that you’re here, you’ve found that Astarion’s agile fingers are obscenely precise in their movements. Like he knows exactly which pins to tumble to unlock your utmost excitement.

So you can't help the way you buck into his touch, nor the way the water sloshes around you both in response.

"Careful, love," he says, hand stilling. "We don't want to make a mess this time, do we?"

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you remember the last time this had happened, how the floor had been practically flooded. You should agree with him, make sure that such an incident doesn't occur again. But the front of your mind is wholly occupied, thinking only of how he's stopped moving his hand, how being careful may mean that he takes it too gently. "Mmm, we managed to clean it up well enough," you respond, jerking your hips back, pressing against him with need.

Astarion's laughter rings upon the bathroom's stone walls, before it turns into a groan as you roll your hips once more. His voice is a bit huskier when he responds, "You know we’re going to regret it later.”

You smile back at him, satisfied with the noise you’ve elicited. “Sounds like a problem for later, doesn’t it?” Then your hand squeezes his arm, motioning it back down to your now throbbing arousal. “For now, what was that about releasing my stress?”

“Oh very well… in that case, let’s find where you ache most, shall we?” Astarion murmurs, dipping his head, placing a kiss on the base of your neck. “Here?” Your shoulder. “Or perhaps here?” Then his hand settles back between your legs, fingers touching you in a rather delicate caress. “Or maybe here?”

You hum a noise of approval as his . “Oh, there.”

His fingers close on your swollen sex, rubbing languidly as he whispers in your ear, “Mmm, darling. So much tension…” A bit more pressure. “I must simply…” A bit faster pace. “Massage it all away…”

If anything, his touches cause you to grasp at his legs harder, all of the muscles in your body responding in kind to his ministrations. Your back arches instinctively, earning an exquisite groan from Astarion. So when his next stroke causes you to clench, you lean into it, grinding your ass back into the full length of his erection, sliding easily in the water’s low friction.

His other hand finds its way to your hip, helping you match his pace as you continue to rock into him.

The two of you fall into a beautiful, raucous rhythm, each open and generous with your vocal pleasure, the water’s regular splashes punctuating each movement.

“Yes, yes, gods, Astarion.”

“My sweet, you’re the only divine thing here.”

Then your words begin to lose sense, your rhythm begins to falter, and it’s clear that you won’t last much longer under his caring fingers.

You also know that Astarion hasn’t been tended to nearly as well as you have.

So you move to turn toward him. With how his full length twitches against you in urgency, your own nimble fingers ought to return the favor.

Astarion stops you, placing his unoccupied hand back on your chest to hold you in place. "Ah ah ah. Love, I'm here to help you."

"You are helping,” you start, pushing back against his hand. “But I don’t want to leave you like this.” ‘This’ is obvious as the man clearly exercises every ounce of self control he has judging from the visible veins on his arm, the way his legs squeeze reflexively around you each time he strokes you.

He gives you a reluctant groan, one that does nothing to hide his desire. “Must you always be so selfless?” His hand doesn’t release your chest though, and he begins tracing delicate, wet circles around one of your nipples, as he murmurs, “Fine, just let me continue.”

Staying in place for him, you reach back with one hand to feel for his cock. It’s almost unreal how naturally you slot around him, the way your fingers circle around its girth. The entire length, inch-by-inch, the pattern of his veins, the sensitive lip of his head– they’re all intimately familiar to you now. As is finding just the right grip, the right pace.

When you start to pump him in earnest, Astarion can't help but shudder, his movements losing their steady, pulsing beat. In losing his pace, he takes on a new one– erratic, a bit fumbling, but utterly intoxicating.

You're both stoking each other’s fires in tandem, wildly offset in your desperation to touch each other more and more and more. 

The water feels almost cool compared to your heated core, to the sweet friction you're building together.

Astarion's face tilts into your back, grunting as he strains to right his tempo– his forehead presses against you, his cool exhale grazes your searing skin. His chilled touch is a reprieve in the sweltering fog of steam and heady lust. Hearing your sigh of relief, he seems all too willing to make more contact.

His lips crash onto your back roughly, and his fangs nick your skin. An involuntary shiver runs through your body as you imagine the pleasure his drinking evokes from you. As you imagine the man behind you lapping at your neck, moaning in satisfaction, flushed pink with your very blood–

"Take some blood,” you offer, breathless. Imagining would never be enough, you find yourself craving the real deal. So when you say your next word, it comes out more pleading than you intend, “Please."

“Whatever my dearest desires,” Astarion replies, voice low and rumbling. He removes the hand from your chest and places it on your shoulder, holding you in place as he places his lips at the crook of your neck. His nose rubs gently against your fleshly washed skin. “Mmm, you smell so good.”

Then his fangs pierce you.

When you first began your relationship, you hadn’t intended to enjoy his bites as much as you do, but after years and years of them, the pain hardly registers now. All you feel is close– So very close to the man you would gladly give your lifeblood to.

He draws a gulp, and you feel the blood course through you, into him.

Another drink, and heat builds in you as you feel his cock grow harder in your hand, his veins more prominent.

A third long pull of your blood, and you feel his fingers quicken at your aching arousal.

You jerk into his hand in reaction, trying to seek an outlet for your pleasure. Your mouth emits a whimper– you hadn’t been comfortable whimpering with Astarion at first, but after he drew one out of you, he couldn’t get enough.

He still can’t, and you feel his lips curl into a smile at your neck, his fingers move with more urgency.

All the while you continue stroking his length, fingers sloppy in your own hazy state. It doesn’t seem like you need your usual dexterity though, because Astarion is practically writhing with newfound reactivity. Drinking blood always leaves him especially sensitive.

One last shaky swallow and he removes his fangs from your neck. But not his mouth. His tongue begins lavishing your puncture wound furiously as he struggles to hold back his approaching peak.

With the way he haphazardly tilts his hips into you, it’s all too evident to you that he’s reaching his limit. He’s not afraid to tell you so either.

"My sweet," he all but moans into your ear. "I–I can't last much longer. May I?"

You know what he means, and you honestly can’t last much longer either– you’re positively light-headed from a mixture of bliss and blood loss. So you stop your movements, nod your addled head at him.

He removes his hands from your core and neck, reaching out to your legs. Pulling them out and apart, he shuffles behind you, moving impatiently.

Realizing he can’t do this alone, he gestures, motioning for you to put your legs up.

Still a bit dizzy, you carefully place each leg on either side of the tub’s edges, hooking yourself in place by the ankles. It feels a precarious balance, but you can hardly care when you’re this eager to have Astarion inside you.

Astarion seems just as eager, rubbing his length against your ass hungrily as you get into position.

Perched and ready for him, the man is quick to help once more– his hands grip your asscheeks and lift in a swift movement. You’re particularly buoyant in the water, and you rise higher than either of you had expected. Your hand instinctively reaches out, gripping the edge of the tub to brace yourself, and you hear Astarion give a deep chuckle from behind you.

Holding back your own almost giddy excitement, you try to compose yourself for him. Angling your hips up, you’re almost floating on the water for a moment as Astarion lines the tip of his cock with your entrance.

However, you’re instinctively clenching a second later when a pair of your lover’s fingers tease at your opening. You barely avoid clamping your legs back together at the sensation. 

Recovering from the tickling probe, you look back to see a lust-drunk fanged smile, lips smeared with red. "Astarion, please,” you mutter. “I can't balance like this all day."

"Come darling, I know you’re quite talented," he taunts, easily gliding his fingers back in, curling until you truly do begin to lose balance.

"Astarion," you breathe out, clutching the side of the tub even harder to stay afloat.

Then his fingers slip back out, replaced a moment later by the head of his cock. “No need to worry, I have a seat for you right here.”

His palms cup your backside, his fingers squeeze, as you lower your hips back down, taking in his entire, slick length effortlessly in the water.

“Now isn’t that better?” he asks, grabbing your hips with one hand, the other finding yours on the side of the tub for support.

“Mmm,” is all that you manage, as you adjust to the sudden fullness. You haven’t lain with anyone else in so long, it’s hard to remember a cock other than his. Still, you can’t help but feel like he settles in you just right. Especially when you both slot together neatly, you taking him to the hilt.

Astarion drops another kiss on your back. “Comfortable?”

“Mhm,” you mumble. Now that you’re securely held in place by Astarion’s hips flush to yours, your legs hanging off the tub’s edges, you place your second hand back at your aching arousal. You begin to stroke yourself back into the same fervor Astarion had you in moments ago.

After a small, deliberate thrust of his hips, testing how you rise and fall in the water, Astarion starts moving against you. It’s slow at first, the water rippling out from you both in small waves. Then his hips rock back, only to drive back into you with sloshing force. 

“A–ahh!” Sweet hells, he knows exactly how to hit your most sensitive spot. You had already been so heated, but now, with your lover’s full, hardened length pressing into you? You feel dizzy with pleasure.

Years of lovemaking, and you’re still in awe of how well he knows your body. It’s more than his previous experiences culminating in some kind of skillful paramour. No, this was built through time, trial, error, effort.

So as this gorgeous man you call love bounces you up and down in his lap, you feel yourself coming undone. Your breaths come ragged as you ride his cock, water spilling out of the tub with each and every buck. Your fingers clench the tub, barely holding on as you feel your pleasure coil tighter and tighter.

Astarion places kiss after kiss down your back, and you hear him murmuring, "Gods you're perfect." A harder kiss. "You feel so good." Another thrust. "Each." A nip at your skin. "And every." A thrust. "Time." Another kiss. "I–I love you."

For your part, you’re finding entire sentences difficult. With the feel of him throbbing inside you, the way his lips feel along your back, each roll of his hips, you're truly only capable of a few phrases. "Astarion." A splashing bounce. "I love you–" A loll back of your head. "Oh hells–" A dip of your hips. "I love you too."

When your peak finally runs through you like a shockwave, when you clench around him in ecstasy, those very same words are still on your lips. "I l–love you."

He moans at the sudden tightness, the muscles that now hold him deep within you. "Darling," he breathes. "Oh love. I can't–"

Astarion means to say that he can't hold on much longer. He'd already been so close, holding back only to keep your pleasure going. So you reach down to his fingers on your hip, as best as you can while still hanging on for dear life, and squeeze his hand. A wordless affirmation, a plea to join you, as he always has.

And it’s that silent communication that has his fingers lacing through yours, his neck craning back, his hips stuttering.

When he comes, there's no pretense or performance. There hasn't been for many years. So when you look back at his face in a hazy fuzz of emotion, the expression you see is utterly unbridled.

It's a look of sheer pleasure– his perfectly pale skin flushed a light rosy color, his usually impeccable hair stuck to his face in a mixture of sweat and water. His eyes are shut, his mouth agape as he spills into you.

So enraptured are you by the mundane beauty of his climax, that you’ve strained too far from your precariously balanced position. Your foot unhooks from the tub’s slippery edge and you fall onto Astarion’s lap with a large splash as he finishes. You’re both left panting and wet in the wake of both your and the tub’s peaks.

Water drips down your face, all of the soap bottles have been knocked from the edge of the tub. The high you’d felt just moments ago feels doused in the stark reality of making love in a bathtub. 

However, when you feel Astarion’s breathy laughter on your back, feel his softening cock twitch with his last few thrusts, you know he’s still in fine spirits.

You stay together for a few moments as you both collect yourselves. Water is wiped from eyes, your second leg comes back into the tub, and several deep breaths are had. Once you’re relatively sorted, Astarion pulls himself out of you with a long, happy sigh.

The man falls back from you, sitting against the end of the tub in a tired flop. Then he’s patting the water in front of him, motioning you to join him in some post-coital cuddles.

You don’t need much more of an invitation.

Floating through the now much lower water, you stop just in front of him. Movements relaxed, you wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck, and scoot into his waiting embrace.

"So," you start, looking at the wasteland of water and strewn soap bottles around the tub. "Looks like we made a mess."

"I told you we would," he says, closing his arms around you, pulling you against his chest.

"I know," you say, leaning into him comfortably. Your body is truly exhausted now, but your mind is a buzz of joy. "It was worth it though."

He laughs into your shoulder, squeezes you tighter. "Feeling better, I take it?"

"Gods yes," you say, tilting your head into his silver hair. "Thank you."

"Oh my sweet, it was my utmost pleasure," he replies, and you can feel his smile on your skin.

You both lean back, grinning at each other like fools. The smiles stay, even when your lips meet in a soft, wet kiss.

You will need to clean the room, the tub, likely your bodies once again– but all you can truly feel right now is content. Enjoying Astarion’s gentle fingers as they trace a pattern onto your skin, the warm water all around you, you very nearly forget that today was merely a day like any other.

The thousandth time you made love to Astarion, it was messy and wet and silly– somehow, it was sweet, caring, and loving all the same.

The thousandth time you made love to Astarion, you didn't know it was the thousandth time.

Just as you hadn't known your tenth thousand kiss, nor your hundred thousandth 'I love you.' Were anyone to ask you about them, you might not even remember the days or events surrounding any of them.

What you do know is that each individual moment holds no less importance, that the affection shared between you doesn’t diminish with each recurrence.

You’re unable to quantify your love, nor would you want to. All you really want is Astarion– his soft lips, tender hands, and whispered words of love– until your dying breath.

[gallifreyanhotfive]

Random Doctor Who Facts You Might Not Know

The Doctor has been known to keep a teddy bear in his pocket.

The Master's first TARDIS (Lolita) is the Doctor's TARDIS's twin.

The Eighth Doctor once had sex with a sentient planet.

Machiavelli, Richelieu, and Robespierre were all just different aliases for the immortal Hades.

The iceberg that the Titanic crashed into was actually the Monk's TARDIS.

Also on board at the time were several incarnations of the Doctor, the Decayed Master, Jack Harkness, John Hart, Ace McShane, and Bernice Summerfield.

The First, Fourth, and Fifth Doctors were all in London around when the Great Fire started in 1666.

The Eighth Doctor was briefly engaged to Queen Edith but ran away before the wedding.

Consecrated planets, moons, and asteroids cannot be mined under Galactic Law.

The Doctor used to make up imaginary enemies to play fight when they were a small, lonely child. One of these enemies was called Mandrake.

The Sixth Doctor once went back in time with Peri to kill a baby who would become an evil dictator but could not go through with it.

After Nyssa tried to fix the chameleon circuit, the TARDIS took the shape of a whale.

Tegan Jovanka is the Earth Ambassador to Gallifrey.

The First Doctor participated in a riot and became wanted by the CIA two days before running away from Gallifrey (although some sources dispute this).

While the Ninth Doctor witnessed Kennedy's assassination, the First Doctor witnessed McKinley's.

The First Doctor has been repeatedly eaten and regurgitated by a whale before.

Marilyn Monroe married both the Eleventh Doctor and King Henry VIII, who fathered Elizabeth I, who married the Tenth Doctor, and he had also been married to Amy Pond, who was also the Doctor’s mother-in-law through River Song. Talk about a confusing family tree!

The First Doctor fed a snapping wart fowl to Valyes's summer project, and Valyes has had a grudge ever since.

The Eighth Doctor once demanded to die naked upon being sentenced to execution.

All righty, folks. I'm very tired! Good night. I may add more later.

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62, 63, 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 69

[issdisgrace]

Could I request some Bruce Wayne tiddie fucking. Reader touching them while hes trying to work which leads to more👀 just anything with his tits I have a slight obsession with them

Its not much of a request sorry I'm not good at explaining ideas🙏

TITJOB WITH BRUCE

WARNINGS: Compression shirt, tit fucking

A/N: This is not the greatest but I still hope you like this. Also I was tired as shit as I wrote this so that contributes to it not being the greatest in my opinion

You were getting impatient. Bruce had been working for hours in nothing but grey sweatpants and a black compression shirt.

The compression shirt hugged his tits just right and god I couldn’t get the image of them out of my head. They were taunting me at this point and now all I wanted to do was fuck his huge tits.

Finally fed up with the image of his tits taunting my mind I made my way to his office. Pushing open the door Bruce looks up from what he was doing.

“Yes, Y/n.”

“I want to fuck your tits.”

“Where is this coming from?”

“It’s coming from the fact you put that stupid fucking shirt on this morning causing me to only think about how big and squishy your tits are. Now are you going to let me fuck them or not.”

“Sigh, I guess I could use a break.” Bruce says getting up from his chair.

“Yes, yes you could.”

After that you soon find yourself in Bruce’s chair. Him on his knees in front of you fishing you out of your pants.

You hiss as the cold air hits your member. Bruce shush’s you before taking off his shirt.

He shuffles forward a little more until my cock is settled in between his tits. He pushes his tits togeather enveloping my cock in his warm squishy flesh.

He slowly moves up and down and I sigh contentedly at the feeling. Bruce continues his slow pace, it causing my orgasm to slow but surly builds.

After what seems like an a hour which was more like 5 minutes. Bruce speeds up his pace, my dick sliding in and out from between his tits faster than before.

They look so pretty covered with my pre. The hot sight pushing me a little closer to the edge. I can’t help but whine and beg for Bruce.

I want so badly to finish all over his tits. Taking mercy Bruce speeds up his pace once again. Bouncing up and down jerking my cock of with his tits.

I buck up into him and he complains a little to slow down. I do as asked a slow my bucking.

The mixture and degration that was falling from his mouth the whole time was the final thing to push the edge. Then Bruce leans down and kisses the tip on my cock.

That simple action enough to push me over that edge and soon I’m cumming all over his chest.

Bruce pulls back after I finish and I whine at the loss of warmth.

“Don’t whine or else you won’t be fucking these tits anytime soon.”

“Ok, sir:”

“Good now how about you go get the bedroom ready for some more fun. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Ok.” I say standing up putting myself away before giving him a quick kiss. Then making my way to our room to get ready for some more rounds.

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 17 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley loved settling in to a new routine with Rose at home. Taking care of you and the baby felt natural. If the most stressful thing he has to deal with was her godfather, then he counted it as a win.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, lactation kink, swearing, DILF Roo

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

"Here are your books," Bradley said softly as he carried his daughter around her nursery to her bookshelf. "And here is your crib." She blinked up at him and yawned, and he broke out into a smile. "And here's the chair from your grandparents where Mommy is going to feed you so you can take a nap."

You were standing in the doorway with both hands on Tramp's collar while he whimpered nonstop. "He's not going to rest until he gets to sniff her again," you said, fighting to hang onto him. "And lick her, and roll around on the floor next to her."

"Fine," Bradley said with a sigh. Tramp just spent twenty minutes losing his mind over the baby, but apparently that wasn't enough. Bradley sank down onto the floor with Rose in his arms, and she stretched her fists up toward his face and gave a soft cry. She looked adorable in the outfit your parents bought for her, and his heart clenched like always when he imagined how his own mom and dad would have reacted to being grandparents.

"Here he comes," you said, releasing the collar, and Tramp bounded the rest of the way into the nursery, whimpering and shaking with excitement. He licked the top of Rose's head, making her cry in the process before he started sniffing her hands.

"For fuck's sake," Bradley grunted, trying to coax Tramp to sit down while Rose curled up against his chest. "He's more excited about the baby than I am."

Carefully you sat next to him on the soft rug that looked like a cloud in the airplane nursery, kissing his cheek before you said, "Don't swear in front of the child."

He rolled his eyes. "She can't understand it yet."

You gave him a pointed look. "Don't make me take away your privileges."

Bradley opened his mouth to ask what you meant, but he was immediately silenced as you pulled your shirt over your head and got ready to feed Rose. "Shit," he muttered, wondering how the fuck he was going to last six weeks with your tits in his face and zero chance at intercourse. "I'll behave."

"While Rose eats, I think we should talk about a few things," you whispered, taking her into your arms with a smile and kissing her cheek before getting her situated.

Bradley pulled Tramp onto his lap, doing his best to keep him from loudly sniffing his human sister and making her cry again. Bradley watched you fidget with your leggings around your waist. "What's wrong? Are you uncomfortable?" he asked while you fed Rose.

"No," you muttered, not looking at him. "My body is like a deflated balloon."

"Baby Girl," he whispered, leaning in to kiss your ear softly. "You're only a few days postpartum. You birthed an entire person. And you look beautiful. You always will."

He gave up his quest to keep Tramp at bay and let the dog lick the baby's foot as you started crying. "I think my hormones are going insane again," you sobbed, and he wrapped one arm around your shoulders and helped you hold Rose with the other. "And I'm really tired."

"I know," he whispered, peppering your face with kisses. "That's why I'm sending you and the Nugget both for nap time as soon as she's done. Now let's talk about what you want to talk about."

"Right," you said with a sob, like you had forgotten all about it. "My parents aren't going to stop bugging until I tell them when they can come visit."

Now that the attic was available, Bradley didn't mind having them in the house all that much. "Since I'm taking the next week off, why don't you tell them to come out the week after that? So you can have some help when I'm on base?"

"That's a good idea," you said as you carefully maneuvered Rose to your other breast. "We also need to give Rose a godfather." Bradley closed his eyes and pictured literally anybody but Jake. "And I was thinking Jake."

He heaved a weary sigh. "Of course you were," he grouched as Tramp finally calmed down and curled up on the floor. You looked at Bradley without saying a word, and he rubbed his eyes with his fingers. Hard. Jake was a fucking pain in the ass. He always has been, and he always will be. But... he took care of you when Josh tried to assault you while Bradley was deployed. And Jake was the one he turned to when he had a panic attack about getting himself killed before he got to meet his daughter. Jake even graciously promised he would look after you and Rosie and finish building the playset if something happened to him. And he never gave Bradley a hard time for any of it.

"Fuck. How the fuck is this my life?" Bradley groaned, sprawling out on the floor with Tramp and staring at the ceiling.

"What did I say about all the swearing, Roo?" you scolded, but when Bradley focused his gaze on your face, you were smiling. "Does that mean you're okay with Jake?"

Bradley looked at Rose and then back at you. "Yeah," he rasped while wincing.

"Perfect. We can tell him when he stops over tomorrow."

"He's coming over tomorrow?"

"Yes. With Cat and Jeremiah," you said, wiping Rose's lips with a burp cloth as Bradley sat up again.

"Let me hold my Nugget to help ease my pain and suffering."

"You're so dramatic. It's not like you'll suddenly be related to Jake," you said with a laugh, literally flaunting your tits as you stood up. "I'm going to call my parents and then take a little nap as long as you've got her?"

Bradley looked at his daughter as she curled up in his arms. "Yeah. I've got her," he promised, and you kissed him before you left the nursery. 

"We're going to take a little walk," he whispered, picking up the burp cloth that you left on the chair. Bradley carried Rose through the house, marveling once again at how tiny she was in his hands as he tried to burp her. Then he slipped out the sliding glass door to the backyard as he said, "This Jake thing wasn't my idea. You heard your mother. She's got some weird ideas sometimes, but I love her too much to tell her no. So let's set some rules. Under no circumstances are you ever allowed to think your godfather is funnier than your old man, okay?"

Rose simply yawned as Bradley sat down on one of the swings, cradling her.

"Exactly. He's a snoozefest. I totally get the yawning." He pressed his lips to her cheek. "And when you're old enough to talk, I need you to tell him that your godmother is way cooler than your godfather. If you agree, then don't say a word."

Bradley moved the swing slowly as she snuggled against him and silently closed her eyes. "That's my girl," he whispered, keeping her warm against his body in the early spring sunlight.

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

When you woke up, your body was sore, and your stomach was growling. You didn't know what time it was, but your breasts hurt enough that you thought perhaps it was time to feed Rose again. You climbed out of bed and froze as you reached for your glasses. Something smelled good. Familiar. Your stomach rumbled loudly as you whispered, "Surely not."

Rose's door was closed when you walked down the hallway, and you found your husband in the kitchen, working in front of the stove.

"You're cooking Marry Me Rooster!"

He looked up at you with a bewildered expression on his face, like a deer caught in headlights. "I am," he replied, voice hoarse. "I've been training over facetime with your mom for months, but this is my first time actually trying it."

Your heart swelled with love as you took a step closer to him and your grandmother's recipe sheet, but he held up a hand and shook his head.

"I think it's best if I give this my full attention," he said, eyes wild as he turned back to the stove. "But maybe you should have the fire extinguisher handy just in case."

You backed slowly away from him, hand covering your mouth to try to keep your laughter in. Excitement bubbled inside you knowing you'd get to eat one of your favorite dinners tonight. Bradley was pretty good at cooking now. He could pull it off. Probably.

Your daughter's cries started ramping up in her nursery, and you had a visceral reaction to it. "I'm coming," you called out, already pulling your shirt over your head as you walked inside. The fact that she even looked adorable when her face was all scrunched up in tears was concerning to you; Bradley would be unstoppable with spoiling her.

As soon as you scooped her up into your arms, she quieted down. Her weight against your body was calming as you rocked her in the chair while you fed her, and you weren't surprised at all that Tramp was sitting at your feet with his eyes glued on the baby.

"Just wait until she can walk," you told him. "The two of you will be besties, terrorizing everyone else."

You heard some loud noises in the kitchen followed by Bradley's voice. "It's fine! It's all fine!"

"I'm kind of concerned," you whispered to Rose, running your fingers along her little bit of fuzzy hair. "But Daddy learned how to cook just for you and me. We are already spoiled."

To your surprise, dinner was mostly good. The kitchen was completely trashed, and Bradley looked like he just ran a marathon, but the food was edible. It even tasted good, if not a little bit on the salty side.

"I am so impressed, Roo," you said with a smile. He was holding Rose to his chest with one hand and inhaling the pasta and chicken.

"I wanted you to have something special. It's nowhere near as good as yours though," he mumbled with a shrug around some bites. "But it's okay. I'm kind of hoping Cat will bring food with them when they stop by tomorrow. She knows how to cook like you do. Jake and I would have probably starved to death by now."

He set his fork down to run his knuckle along Rose's cheek as you started to clean up the dishes. "I thought it was wonderful," you whispered. "Nobody else ever cooked just for me before."

That made him smile. 

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

Bradley intended to write in the Nugget notebook while the events from the hospital were still fresh in his mind, but he passed out in bed as soon as you did. Rose cried three times overnight when she was hungry, and he realized he was actually quite useless when it came to that scenario. All he could really do to help was burp her. By the time he was making breakfast, you looked absolutely exhausted.

"That was kind of a rough night," he said while trying so hard not to burn the toast.

"I think that's just how nights are going to be for a while," you replied with a yawn as you carried the baby around.

Bradley spread some of the avocado concoction he whipped up onto the perfectly toasted slice of overpriced bread that you liked, and he took Rose from you so you could have a break.

"Thanks," you muttered before biting into your breakfast. "It's still so strange that you're the one cooking now."

"Oh shit," he said in delight as he kissed his daughter. "I almost forgot."

"Stop swearing!" you called as he walked outside to the garage where that fancy baby carrier thing was. 

He'd been using it to lift weights, training for this very occasion. He snatched it up and took it back in the house where he set Rose down on the couch to fasten the straps around himself. "Look at this!" he said, slipping the baby in against his chest. You were shaking your head and finishing your toast as he paraded around wearing Rose.

"You're so adorable, Roo."

"It's not me. It's the baby." He looked down at her cute face where her cheek was squished against his chest. "Can't get enough."

You wrapped your arms carefully around him, turning Rose into a sandwich as you ran your fingers through the hair along his temples. "You are such a DILF, Bradley. Gray hairs and heart eyes for your daughter."

"Stop," he groaned, turning to kiss your wrist. "Do you have any idea how hard it's going to be for me to not fuck you right now?" Someone knocked on the front door and he gave you a look. "What time did you tell Jake and Cat to stop by?"

"Tonight," you replied, heading across the living room. "It couldn't be them."

Bradley was relieved to see Maverick when you opened the door. "I'm not staying," he said as you invited him inside with bags in his hands. "I just wanted to see this little one for myself and drop some things off." He shook Bradley's hand and then just stood there with his hands on his hips, watching Rose slowly fall asleep in her carrier. "My god," he whispered, eyes shining with tears. "A brand new Bradshaw."

"Do you want to hold her?" you asked him, already reaching for the carrier. But Maverick shook his head.

"No, let her sleep. I'll come back one day with Penny and Amelia. We'll bring pizza. Just let us know which night is good." He looked up at Bradley, cuffing him on the shoulder as he said, "I wanted to be one of the first to say congratulations. Your mom and dad would have been overjoyed."

"Thanks, Mav," Bradley whispered, tears in his own eyes now. "I'm kind of obsessed with her, so I know my mom would have been as well."

Maverick shook his head, still giving Bradley's bicep a squeeze. "Your dad would have never shut up about having a granddaughter. That's a fact."

Bradley pulled his godfather in for a hug before he left with the promise to return later in the week when he was invited. Then he kissed the top of Rose's head as you rummaged around in the bags that had been left behind.

"Penny seems to have gone a bit overboard with groceries," you muttered, pulling lunch meat, bread and some chicken breasts from one of the bags. "Oh! A bottle of pink champagne!"

"Put it in the fridge," Bradley said. "I'm going to need a drink after you tell Jake he'll be the Nugget's godfather."

You rolled your eyes and dug around in a gift bag that was overflowing with tissue paper, and you gasped as you pulled out two stuffed animals. They simply looked like birds, but when Bradley took a step closer, he laughed. 

"Mav really bought Rosie a plush goose and a plush rooster."

You had a bright smile on your beautiful face as you examined them. "He's quite the joker, but these are so cute. I'm going to put them in her nursery."

"After that, you should go take a nap," Bradley said, swaying slowly from side to side with his hand resting on the back of his daughter's head while she napped. "This little girl is sound asleep, and I can do a few chores with her in the carrier."

You gave him a look that would usually mean he was getting lucky later, but that was off the table right now. When you walked past, you kissed Rose's hand and then his cheek before you said, "Make sure you chill the champagne. We can have fun later."

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

Jake, Cat and Jeremiah arrived with balloons, boxes of diapers, meals in tupperware containers, and a lot of excitement. 

"You didn't have to bring all of this," you said as Jake stacked things up inside the front door.

"Yes, they did," Bradley muttered, taking a peek in the food containers. "There's a casserole and a lasagna."

"You literally just ate dinner," you told him, handing Rose over to Cat who was practically vibrating with excitement. But Bradley wasn't listening as he followed the very inquisitive two year old boy around the living, making sure he didn't get hurt chasing Tramp.

"Why do babies smell so good?" Cat asked as Rose squirmed a bit in her arms. "So fresh and clean."

You didn't even get to respond before Jake squeezed you tight and said, "Congratulations, Angel. You mated with Bradshaw, and somehow the baby turned out cute."

"I would say something," Bradley retorted from next to the couch, "but I'm not allowed to swear in front of children."

Jake snorted. "I'm just messing around."

"Hey, I'm going to take him outside to play on the swings for a bit," Bradley said, scooping Jeremiah up before he could yank on Tramp's tail.

You gave him a pointed look and nodded toward Jake. "Don't we have something we'd like to ask him first?"

Bradley's smile turned into a bit of a frown. "No. I don't think we do."

"Bradley!" you scolded, and he tipped his head back with a groan.

"Fine. But I'm not saying it."

You pinched the bridge of your nose as you turned toward Jake. "Bradley and I would very much like for you to be Rose's godfather. If you're interested."

The words were barely out of your mouth before Jake had you flush against him in a bone crushing hug. "Wooo, boy. Godfather to a Bradshaw? We do live in some wild times, don't we, Rooster?"

Bradley muttered something incoherent while you asked, "Does that mean you're interested?"

He released you and turned toward Cat. "Please pass the godchild to the godfather. I'm about to make this baby an offer she can't refuse."

"She's a burrito! Not a cannoli!" Bradley called out from the sliding glass door before heading outside with Jeremiah.

"Is Phoenix her godmother?" Jake asked softly while holding Rose and supporting her head.

"Yes," you replied, in awe over how careful he was being.

"You realize that spells complete disaster, right?"

"Sure," you agreed. But you'd never seen anyone hold someone else's baby with quite as much respect as Nat and Jake held Rose.

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

Bradley played with Rose on the couch with an episode of Real Housewives of New Jersey on in the background. "You see what happens when you marry for money?" he asked his daughter as she wrapped her fingers around his pinky. "Sure, you get a Lamborghini out of the deal, but you also get arrested for tax fraud and embezzlement." He kissed her forehead. "Don't do that, okay?"

She cooed softly, and he took that as a sound of agreement.

"I'm ready."

Bradley glanced up to see you fresh out of the shower wearing the robe that Nat gave you. "I'll bring her right in," he replied.

"Grab the champagne, too."

He did exactly as he was told and handed the baby to you where you sat in the glider chair in the nursery before he carefully opened the bottle. The sound startled Rose, and she started crying hysterically. Bradley was on his knees in front of the chair instantly, kissing the top of her head. "I'm sorry, Nugget. That was way too loud."

"I think she's getting hangry, too," you mused, loosening the sash of your robe so you could feed her. And once again, Bradley was just captivated by all of it and so in love. He took a long sip of the pink champagne before offering you the bottle. "I can only have a little bit."

"I know Sweetheart, but it's your favorite." You had milk beading on your nipple while you fed Rose, and Bradley watched you lick your lips before handing the bottle back to him. He groaned softly, dizzy from all of it. 

"This is so fascinating," he whispered, taking another sip before setting the bottle down. When he reached out to touch your breast, you let him. You felt warm and heavy, and he took your milk onto his thumb and licked it clean.

"You know..." you whispered, switching Rose to your other side. "After having alcohol, it's probably a good idea to pump some of my milk to make sure she doesn't get any of it."

Bradley sat up a little straighter, willing to get you anything you needed. "Want me to set up the pump?"

"Nah," you replied, shaking your head. "I haven't gotten the hang of it yet, but I'm sure there's another way you can help me." Your graceful fingers stroked Rose's cheek as the milk drunk baby started slowing down. "When she's finished, it's your turn."

Bradley jumped to his feet as soon as Rose started to drift to sleep. "I'll get cleaned up and meet you in bed," you whispered as he took the baby from your arms. He deftly changed her diaper and got her zipped back into her sleeper before setting her in her crib.

"How about you sleep more tonight?" he asked. "Give me a chance to play with Mommy before she's too tired? I like her tits, too."

He could hear you laughing down the hallway. "I can hear you through the baby monitor!" you called out, but Bradley had no shame. He kissed his daughter one last time before turning on the night light and the ceiling fan, and then he was on his way to you.

When he stood in the doorway, you were sitting in bed with your robe open. Soft light from your lamp was making every curve of your body look irresistible to him, and now that he had you alone, he knew he was going to struggle.

He made a desperate sound as he ran his hand over his face. "Baby Girl," he whined. "I want you so bad."

"Come here," you coaxed, rubbing the spot on the bed next to you. He was there in an instant, sitting with his back against the headboard as you crawled into his lap. As soon as you nudged his shorts with your knee, he swallowed hard, saliva pooling on his tongue at the sight of your milk dripping from you and onto his shirt.

"Oh, shit," he whispered, letting you get yourself comfortable before he wrapped his arms around you. "It's my turn?"

You ran your fingers along his scarred cheek and back through his hair. "Your turn," you whispered, lips ghosting against his as he throbbed for you.

Bradley took your breasts gently in his hands, ran his thumbs along your nipples and rubbed his nose between your tits. Then he let himself taste you to his heart's content.

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

Roo is living his very best life, other than potentially seeing Jake more frequently. Hopefully Nat will balance that out for him. Grandparents are coming to visit soon! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 18

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