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hanckocks-dagger · 7 months ago

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Red Nightgown Blues

masterlist

John Hancock x afab!reader

Description: After a medical emergency, you realize the only thing you really need is Hancock by your side.

Fill for a truly ancient LiveJournal prompt from the Fallout Kink Meme

Tags: Established relationship, hurt/comfort, angst, reader is SoSu, no y/n

Warnings: Miscarriage, blood, medical exams/procedures, worries about terminal illness. (I don't go into much detail and none of it is all that explicit, but please skip out on this one if you feel it would be triggering to you <3 )

Word count: 3.1K

Crossposted on my ao3

The bed was wet. Not in a damp, sweaty naked bodies way, but like someone had dumped an entire bucket of water onto your legs. Distantly, you thought back to your dreams, wondering if you'd gotten too high last night and managed to wet the bed. Ugh. Not the most respectable thing for the general of the Minutemen, but god knows you'd pulled Hancock out of enough puddles of his own vomit for it to be your turn.

Speaking of. You twisted in the bed to check the other side of the bed, wincing when your stomach cramped at the movement, muscles sore beyond belief. What the fuck?

The bed was empty, Hancock's hat and coat missing from where he'd tossed them the night before. He didn't tend to wake up before you, but maybe Fahrenheit had dragged him off for some mayoring business.

The front of your shirt and your underwear were uncomfortably sticky, glued to your skin, so you decided it would be best to rip the band-aid off, go strip the sheets and wallow in embarrassment for a while. You raised the sheets slowly, expecting to find a damp spot on the bed, maybe some moisture on the skin, but paled at the sight that greeted you. Blood. Way, way too much blood.

You inhaled shakily, pulling yourself into a sitting position, sending another stab of pain through your abdomen as you did. You shoved the sheets to the side, taking in the wet puddle of blood in the bed, more crusted onto your thighs, your underwear unrecognizable, dyed red.

"Shit," You whimpered, mind already reeling. God, you wished John hadn't left, his disposition much less prone to panic than you were, wanted him to be your voice of reason as your mind spun with possibilities. Was it the sex? You were usually pretty careful, taking your RadX first and finishing off with RadAway. Hell, you couldn't even name the last time he'd finished inside of you. But... maybe your body was tired of it, rebelling. Or maybe you'd had internal bleeding from your last fight, but didn't that usually show up in your vomit?

You rose to your feet, legs shaky, and stripped the bed, using a corner of the sheet to wipe off your thighs, wincing as the blood smeared over your skin. It didn't exactly look fresh, it wasn't like someone had stabbed you in the middle of the night, it looked more like the darker, browner color of your period, but this was... way too much blood.

You balled up the sheets in your hands, leaving them on the floor as you struggled to get your pants on. You needed a doctor. Amari was fine for patching up scrapes, and had even reattached some of Hancock's fingers when they got bitten off by a rabid dog once, but she specialized in brains, not whatever this was.

You pulled a piece of paper from the desk, scribbling out a quick explanation to John so he wouldn't be liable to lose his mind when he couldn't find you skulking around.

Popped over to Diamond City for the day, back before dark <3

On a normal day you would've tracked him down, gotten him to kiss you stupid before letting you leave, but you were shaking, pale and very clearly panicking, and you didn't want him to worry, or insist on following you. You weren't sure you had it in you to keep him from threatening to bite whoever badmouthed him, not today.

You pulled on your shirt, ignoring the way your blood covered hands left streaks on the fabric, shouldered your gun and tucked some caps into your pockets. If you moved slowly, kept out of sight and didn't run into any problems on the way, the walk shouldn't be more than an hour.

Downtown Boston was light and quiet, lit by noon sun bright enough that you wished you could've had John's hat to shade your eyes. Your fingers itched to have his hand to hold, and your fraying nerves had you wishing for his voice to calm you. Your ideas were spinning rapidly out of control: This was cancer, or some other equally incurable illness. You were dying. How could you possibly go home and face John to have to tell him that your time together was coming to an end, that you were abandoning him?

You steadied yourself on a rusted mailbox, forcing a few deep breaths before you lost your mind completely. You'd already passed the first sign for Diamond City, it was just a couple of blocks and you'd be inside the city walls. You’d go talk to Doctor Sun, end your panic. No matter the outcome, knowing was better than this pointless speculation.

You were more lightheaded than you were comfortable being, but kept walking, regretting not having brought water with you in your hurry to get out without Hancock spotting you. You regretted not going to him, either. Sure, you were strong, capable, got through more than most, but wasn’t this the sort of thing partners were for? Shouldering the heavy burdens with you, providing comfort.

As the gates of Diamond City approached, you considered turning around, trekking back and just falling into his arms, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to make the journey twice in one day, not the way your vision was starting to swim. So, instead, you walked into the gates alone, emerging into the bustling Diamond City, and headed towards the Doctor’s.

Doctor Sun frowned as you whispered your symptoms to him, putting down his clipboard when you spoke of the cramps in your abdomen, quickly ushering you inside his house.

"Are you sexually active?"

You bit your lip, pausing to consider how to answer. Would he deny you medical service if you admitted to shacking up with a Ghoul? Sure, he was a doctor, but Diamond City's distrust of Ghouls had deep roots. You weren't willing to risk it, kept it to a clipped, "Yes."

He nodded, instructing you to pull your pants down and lie down on the table. You hesitated, the memory of the mess with Doc Crocker fresh in your mind. Still, your gun was leant against the table, and though Doctor Sun wasn't a small guy, you spent your time flitting about the wastes. If the worst happened, you’d be able to fight him off.

The inspection was quick, invasive and painful. Doctor Sun was professional the whole way through, and pointedly did not look at you as you redressed, tears stinging at your eyes.

"I'm sorry to say, but your cervix is dilated, indicating a miscarriage."

You blinked at him, having been bracing for news of your inevitable death. You were pregnant?

"But–" You cut yourself off. Couldn't tell him that that would be impossible. "That's... that's it? It's not... uterine cancer? Or like... cysts on the ovaries or something? A miscarriage?"

"All indications point to that, yes. Otherwise, you seem healthy. Again, I'm very sorry."

The shock of the news left you numb to anything else, no feelings attached to the thing itself. "Uhm, okay. Thank you. Should I... do anything?"

"Well, you've probably lost a substantial amount of blood, so I'm going to administer a blood pack. You should try to keep your diet rich in iron for the next few days, and spend the day resting."

"Thank you," You said blankly, as the doctor went about searching for blood, gave you a glass of water, and took his payment.

When he told you it was safe to leave, you stepped into the market in a daze. How would you have gotten pregnant? Ghouls were sterile, it was one of the few facts that almost everyone seemed to know about them.

You bought some meat, which you ate without tasting it, then walked over to Sheng's for some cold water. The boy looked at you strangely as you passed over the caps, but kept his mouth shut.

The thought briefly crossed your mind that it could have been someone else, as you wracked your mind for any missing memories, any nights with strangers, but besides that time last month when you'd gone with John up to Tenpines to help with some electrical failure, there was nothing. He'd been by your side every night and almost every day.

Again, you felt the sting of tears, confusion overwhelming you. You thought about renting a room to get some privacy, but you desperately wanted company, someone to pull you out of your thoughts. You thought about calling on Nick, but somehow it didn't feel right, so you ended up at Publick Occurrences, saying hi to a distracted Nat before sneaking in through the door.

Piper's house was calm, warm, smelled of ink and dusty books. Piper herself was upstairs, calling down a hello as you entered. "I'm working on an article, come up and keep me company!"

You collapsed onto her bed, watching as she typed at her terminal, hunched over with the world's worst posture, occasionally mumbling to herself as she picked through notes in her little notepad.

"I just had a misscarriage." The words tumbled out without permission, needing to exist out in the open, to be shared with someone.

Piper froze, hands hovering above the keys, before she spun in her seat, eyes wide.

"What?"

You nodded, surprised to find tears dripping down your face.

"Who's... was it?" Her words were indelicate, wincing to herself as she spoke.

"John's."

"But..."

"I know," You used the back of your hand to wipe away the wetness on your cheeks, sniffling. "But I haven't been with anyone else. And Doctor Sun seemed pretty sure."

Piper leant over to pat you on the shoulder, and you caught her hand, giving it a soft squeeze.

"D'you mind if I crash here tonight? He told me to take it easy today, so I probably shouldn't walk back."

"Yeah, of course, Blue. Anything you need."

It wasn't far after dusk when the guilt set in, and you found yourself wishing for a functional telephone. Hancock knew you could take care of yourself, but he also worried for you more than just about anything in the world. If you told him you were feeling depressed while dumping his whole stash of drugs out the window, you were reasonably sure he'd ask after you first. Or, at least very quickly afterwards.

After keeping you company for a couple of peaceful hours, Piper vanished to go get some dinner for the three of you, leaving you to try to occupy yourself with one of her ancient novels.

Still, you didn't get to wallow very long, a crash from downstairs with the panicked call of your name drew your eyes from the book you'd been reading, a screeching Nat appearing in the stairway, single-handedly holding back a panicked Hancock with her fists raised.

"I told you, you can't come in here, Ghoul!"

"It's alright, Nat," You said, clambering off the bed to reach them. Your steps were slow, the pain in your stomach having died down from occasional cramps to a constant low ache. The second you were down from the stairs, John was pulling you into his arms, peppering your face with kisses, "Where the fuck did you go? What happened? I was–" He caught himself, jaw tensing as he pulled back to stare at you, eyes crinkled in concern. "Are you okay?" He asked, finally, and you didn't miss the quiver in his voice.

"I'm fine," You said, and were surprised to find that it was the truth. Clutched in his arms, the world felt right again, "C'mon, let's go talk in private."

Nat was still staring at John like she planned on kicking his ass, and with as wiry as he was, you weren't totally sure she couldn't. You guided him gently up the stairs, through the room and out onto the roof access. You didn't mind the rowdy nature of Goodneighbor nights, drunken laughter, fistfights and arguments, but there was something about the calm of Diamond City evenings that you appreciated just as much. There were even crickets in the grass, chirping their hearts away over the gentle murmur of people at the bars, bots in the markets.

You led Hancock towards the couch Piper had forced you to help her drag up here some months ago, watching him collapse with unusual gravity onto the cushions, half pulling you onto his chest with him. You relished the warmth of him, the familiar softness of his coat, the ever present smell of cigarettes and Jet that clung to his skin.

"What happened, love?"

You hadn't actually given all that much thought to how you would explain yourself, simply appreciating the relief of not having to tell him you were dying. After some thought, though, you figured the simple truth would be best.

"I came to see the doctor." His grip tightened, already inhaling to ask what had happened, what was wrong, but you cut him off. "I woke up covered in blood. I got scared, figured it would be best to go in on my own and see what was wrong right away." John's fingers found your hand, clutching it tight, and you squeezed him right back.

"I uhm–" God, why was it so hard now? "I had a miscarriage."

The hand you were holding tensed, minutely, then pulled away, John shifting away from your body so he could turn his face to look you in the eyes. He looked... miserable.

"Are–" He had to clear his throat, voice even more gravelly than usual, "Are you okay?"

You nodded, bunching your hands in your shirt, desperate to hold something, "Yeah, the doctor said I should be fine. Just some rest, he gave me some blood."

"And who's– who's the father?" The words seemed to pain him, eyes slipping away from yours to look up at the sky, stars reflected in his eyes. He looked like he was about to cry.

"John," You breathed, hands sliding over to take his hands again, squeezing hard so he couldn't pull away, "You are. Of course you are. I wouldn't– I haven't cheated."

His eyes flickered downwards, just for a moment, but you hoped he could sense the earnestness in your expression.

"John," You repeated, firmly, "I love you. No one else. Hell, we've been attached at the hip the last two months, when would I have even had the chance to run off and get knocked up?"

He considered this, Adam's apple bobbing, "Yes, but, baby, you know I'm sterile, right?"

"I know. I don't–" You had to pause, swallow a lump in your throat, "I don't get it, but that's probably why I miscarried, anyway. Just a– a fluke."

"A fluke," He repeated, then his chest heaved, and suddenly he was curling into you, face buried in your shoulder, arms wrapped around you as he sobbed into your skin. You'd never seen him cry before.

You wrapped your arms around him, only taking a moment to pluck his hat off and toss it to the side, so you could tuck a hand around the back of his head, hold him closer. He had to trust you on this, seeing as you were the only one who could reasonably know if you'd actually slept with anyone else, and even then, you hadn't been completely sure at first.

You kissed the top of his head, whatever skin you could reach, as his hands clutched at the back of your shirt, almost like he expected you to vanish if he let go. You held him back just as tight. Your relationship wasn't new, by this point, but it hadn't been so long that it was unreasonable to assume it wouldn't last the rest of your lives. But now, you felt something shift, maybe just in you, maybe in this thing between the two of you. You loved him and you didn't want to lose him, not for anything, not even a baby.

Eventually, his sobs faded, only the occasional tear spilling onto your skin. His grip loosened, second by second, until he righted himself, cleared his throat, put his hat back on his head. You reached out for him again, though, cupping his face in his hands, thumbs brushing away the tears on his cheeks. You gave him a weak little smile, not sure exactly what was going through his head. Sometimes, his mind worked a little too fast for you to follow, thoughts too warped by his own insecurities for you to understand.

"What are you thinking?" You whispered, fingers still ghosting over his cheeks.

"Are you– Would you have wanted to keep it?"

You thought about it. Raised the way you were, a family was considered the end goal of a relationship, along with marriage and all that other nonsense.

"No," You decided on, "Not right now, anyway. I'm still getting to know this world, still finding my purpose in it."

He nodded into your palms, turning to press a kiss to the inside of one of them. It sent a wave of soft heat through you, the gesture so achingly intimate.

"What about you?" You asked, realizing that it wasn't something the two of you had ever really addressed. By the time you'd started sleeping together, you'd already known that ghouls were infertile, and had just figured that was that, no need to worry about any accidental pregnancies. Of course, he still pulled out a majority of the time, seeing as it burned like a motherfucker, still setting off the Geiger counter on your pip-boy, but it was just one less thing to worry about.

"I'm not..." He trailed off, "I didn't think it was an option. Just sort of put it out of my mind."

You nodded, leaning over to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

"Well, if we ever get to that point, we'll deal with it then, okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

You pressed your forehead to his, shutting your eyes, "I'm sorry for not coming for you. I regretted it the second I was gone. Just got scared."

The brush of lips over yours, "I'm always here for you, love, no matter what it is."

"I know." You did, believed it with every fiber of your being. Knew that no matter what, in Goodneighbor or out in the wasteland, John had your back.

"Now, come on, it's getting cold," You opened your eyes, stood up, pulling him up with you, "Let's go bully Nick into lending us his bed for the night, it's not like he's using it."

Hancock grinned, "Lead the way."

Notes: Bit heavier than my usual stuff, but I was just scrolling though the kink meme prompts and this just popped fully formed into my head... I am always a sucker for some good hurt/comfort tho. And this is my first fic where Hancock cries! Usually I'm more masochistic towards my blorbos than that....

#hancock #fallout companions #hancock fo4 #hancock x reader #hancock x you #john hancock #john hancock x reader #fallout imagines #fallout hancock #hancock x sole survivor #my writing

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queensunshinee · 7 months ago

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Time Of Our Lives || Part 23

warnings: SMUT! 18+!, oral sex, handjob.

Part 23

"Have I already thanked you for agreeing to come with me?" Art asked after he entered the hotel where Liana was staying. His parents had also arrived. "You know I wouldn't miss you at the Olympics, right? And in London, no less!" She rolled her eyes because he hadn't stopped saying 'thank you' since the moment he bought the stupid ticket (which she wanted to pay for herself, but he didn't exactly ask her). "I love London. It's not a punishment or anything," she smiled genuinely.

Art smiled back, but he had known for some time that she loved him just as much as she loved London, and if he wanted to be arrogant, maybe even more than she loved London. And God knows how much he loves Liana. So why can't he talk to her about it? They talk about everything except that. They act like people who have been in a relationship for a decade. People whose dilemmas are about kids and home design. Why can't those be their real dilemmas? Has Art sentenced himself to a life beside Liana that will never be full and complete? Will he always have to settle for almost because he didn't insist on how ridiculous their agreement was?

"Can't wait to see all the places you love. All the buildings you told me about." His smirk widened into a real smile when he saw her face. Her eyes sparkled with excitement, and her cheeks reddened. She was truly the most beautiful person he knew. He can't believe he grew up beside her all his life and didn't realize how beautiful she was for half of it. "Maybe I shouldn't introduce you to Melissa, so you won't fall in love with her by mistake," she said in response, and he raised an eyebrow. "Oh, yes. I'm definitely capable of falling in love with your best friend," he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes as she swallowed. They both realized how loaded his statement was only after he said it. After all, Liana had been in love with his best friend. She was capable of that. It's not the same thing. He knows it's not the same thing. And yet. It's not far-fetched in their reality.

"Are you excited?" she abruptly changed the subject. "What's the worst that can happen? I'll lose in the first rounds with you and my parents in the audience, all of America watching me, and I'll become a meme. Just another Sunday," he lay down on the bed beside her, burying his head in her chest, letting her fingers run through his curls. "Or you'll win, and then win again and again," she said in response, and he chuckled. "What are the chances of that happening, Lia?" he sighed, afraid of disappointing so many people. "High. But in any case, you know I don't care, right?" she asked, moving his head a bit, making him look at her with wide eyes, absorbing every word she had to say. "I don't care as long as I know you're enjoying yourself and doing what you love to do. That's like the only reason I'm willing to watch you play tennis. Because I know you love it and it excites you. In any other scenario, fuck tennis," she shrugged as if it was the most obvious thing and moved again, allowing him to rest his head back on her soft chest. He could fall asleep like this. He had fallen asleep like this before.

"So if I quit tomorrow, you wouldn't care?" he asked without looking at her. Because he didn't plan to quit. He was far from it. He loved playing tennis. He loved seeing Liana in the audience. He loved winning. "I'd throw you a party," she replied, making both of them chuckle.

"I brought you something," she murmured, gently moving him again so she could get up. "It's not too much, so don't get too excited," she added as she rummaged through her suitcase and pulled out a box wrapped with a ribbon. "Lia, you shouldn't have." His hand found its way to his neck for a moment, unable to think clearly. His heart was beating irrationally. The fact that she thought of him enough to give him something for the tournament, even though she was already flying with him, gave him chills. "Don't be stupid, open it," she smiled. And for once, Art listened to what she told him to do instead of giving her instructions. "What is all this?" he muttered, not knowing what to focus on.

"Okay, the headphones are supposed to be really good. They're for listening to your meditations if you're with someone in the room, or the songs you like to listen to before games. The book is just because I know you might get bored in the Olympic Village between games or training or whatever, so you have something to pass the time. And there's this really silly picture my mom gave me two months ago. Art, have you seen it?" She talked so fast, and Art felt he could cry. "It's from that time you got a skateboard for your birthday," he stated, examining the framed picture. Liana and he were seven. He was holding his first racket in one hand and hugging Liana with the other. His cheeks were red, and his eyes were swollen. Liana, on her part, had her arms crossed, standing next to a small skateboard. She looked displeased.

"Yeah, and you cried and acted like a little bitch even though you got a racket for your birthday," she laughed heartily, and Art couldn't take his eyes off the picture in front of him. "I wanted to have what you had," he said honestly, remembering that feeling exactly. As a child, he couldn't let go of her at every shared moment. He followed her like he was her tail. Probably even then, he would have wagged if she asked him to. She never asked. "It's for you to put in your room because two and a half weeks is a long time, so you feel a bit at home. After that, I might want it back. It's too cute," Liana continued, partially ignoring what he said.

"Is that mine?" he suddenly asked, pulling out a simple white cap from the box. "Yes. Okay, it's weird, I know. But you had that period where you wore a backwards cap and really looked like a smug, annoying dickhead—" "Oh yes, I remember. You didn't stop telling me how much you hated all my caps," he rolled his eyes.

"Well...I lied," she said without blinking, and he looked at her, raising an eyebrow. "You looked really good with those silly caps. It was awful," she rolled her eyes. "And then there was one time I was at your house one summer, and you were in the pool, so I just took that cap. I thought maybe it would make you stop wearing them, but you just wore another one the next day. An insufferable person," she spoke quickly, as if the speed would make what she said less significant.

"When was that?" For every word she said quickly, he spoke his slowly, swimming in this moment. "The summer of age 16, like 10 years ago, I think?" she tried to remember. "Lia, did you have a crush on me when you were 16?" The familiar smirk spread across his face. "Oh, fuck off," she rolled her eyes, and he put the box on the bed beside him, stood up, and approached her. Wrapping her in a hug with his big hands.

"Thank you," he said quietly, feeling himself melt into her. "You know I've got your back, right? With or without tennis. You and I will be okay," she said, looking at him again. Art kissed her in response, unable to find any words other than 'I love you' (which he wasn’t allowed to say) to sum up the discussion.

After three weeks at the London Olympics, Art Donaldson won a silver medal in the doubles tournament and a gold medal in the singles, all while wearing a backwards white cap in every match. The kiss he gave Liana after his victory was captured everywhere. It was called 'iconic.' Nobody knew who Liana was, but she was the first person to receive his attention, and his parents or Tashi, who were sitting there, weren't surprised at all.

They said goodbye to his parents and decided to stay another week in London. This way, Art could meet some of Liana's friends and see places she loved. Besides, he could use a vacation. Tashi tried to resist, unsuccessfully. It was also Liana's birthday, and Art wanted to take her to a nice restaurant.

They sat next to each other at a bar in London, with some of Liana's school friends sitting across from them. Art connected with them instantly. In a flash. Overall, seeing Liana so immersed in her element, so social, was like exploring her anew. Discovering the person she had been all these years without him.

"Does anyone want something to drink?" he asked, and after everyone told him what they wanted and someone else went with him, Liana stayed with Melissa, who looked at her as if she had fallen from the moon. "You're so in love with him it's embarrassing. I don't know what this act is for," Melissa said the second everyone walked away. "There's no act, we're fine. He's my best friend," Liana shrugged and finished her drink. "Girl, I'm your best friend. The blond guy who looks at you like you hung the moon and sleeps with you most nights of the week, he's your boyfriend." Melissa almost laughed at the absurdity. There wasn't a single person around the table who even asked who Art was to Liana. It was obvious to everyone that he was her boyfriend. His hand was on her in a half-hug, so nonchalant, as if he was born in that exact position. As if he belonged right beside her.

"He doesn't look at me like-" Liana rolled her eyes. "What are you afraid of?" Melissa interrupted, not letting her continue deceiving herself. There isn't a person in the world (literally the whole world since their kissing photos were published) who thinks Liana is just Art's best friend. "I guess, I don't want to get hurt again," Liana murmured, looking at Melissa with a pitiable expression. "Oh, babes, sweetie, everyone gets hurt all the time. Who the fuck has the energy to be afraid of that?" She hugged her, a crushing hug. "I need to visit you more. You're losing it over there in America," she concluded as everyone returned to the table.

Art's hand returned to the same spot, only this time Liana's head rested on his shoulder, as if she was born right there as well.

Two days later, Art insisted they go to the restaurant he had reserved. "Art, we're going to celebrate at your parents' house in two weeks anyway. You're really overdoing it," she said when he just told her about his plans. "Hey, we never celebrate your birthday on the actual date. It feels unfair. Just let me spoil you for a bit," he looked at her with a gaze she found hard to refuse.

So, Liana found herself sitting next to him at a Michelin-starred restaurant, telling him occasionally that he was crazy for the amount of money he spent on this meal. Reminding him that there was no real reason for this extravagance. But every time Liana took a bite or sipped the wine, he saw her face change, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. He knew it wasn't a waste. He knew he had made the right decision, and he knew that tonight might take a turn very soon, so he decided to savor the good, certain moments as much as possible.

After they finished eating, Liana took him on a tourist bus tour, which made them both roll their eyes and laugh, feeling like kids again. They weren't bothered by the people asking to take pictures with Art. What did bother them was the rain that started to pour in August, causing them to catch a taxi to the hotel, drenched. "That was a really extreme ending to this evening," Liana said as they both laughed. "Thank you, Art, this was really over the top," she said, looking at him with a gaze that quickly changed from amused to grateful.

"You don't have to thank me for anything, Liana. Like, ever." He said, his gaze was piercing. Demanding. "Haven't you figured that out yet?" he mumbled and sighed. "Okay. No more thank yous. Do you want to shower with me?" she smiled, and his look filled with mischief as he moved towards her and unzipped her dress. They were under the warm water quickly, with Art gently moving her hair away from her face, and she closed her eyes. His hands were so rough from tennis, but his touch was soft.

"You're so beautiful, Lia. It's unbelievable that you're mine," he murmured, and she opened her eyes. He looked at her, too, and knew he had crossed some kind of line. Because they didn't say it out loud. They didn't say what everyone understood. They just acted like it, and Art was about to ruin it. Or change it. Or improve it. He was about to break it. "You're beautiful yourself," she replied, standing on her tiptoes and kissing him. He deepened the kiss immediately. And it wasn't hurried or sloppy; it was serious and mature and deep. They took their time, refusing to break apart until they ran out of air to share.

Art didn't know how he found himself on all fours before her again, but he loved looking up at her sometimes. When she looked back at him, and they both knew she had the power to destroy him, but she would never use it. And Art was beginning to believe he also had the power to destroy Liana, but he would never dream of using it. His mouth was on her pussy, and even as he explored her from within, he took his time, just as he had with her mouth earlier. And the sounds she made, which he was already used to but would never tire of, made him feel like he could come without her touching him at all. "Fuck, Artie, I'm close," and he loved when she called him that because it only happened when she was needy and coming and desperate and his, and he knew she was in that stupid state because of him, and she also knew he was the one making her feel so good, in such euphoria. And with that thought in his mind, he felt her come, half leaning on the wall and half on his shoulder as he held her shaking legs. "It's okay, baby, I've got you. Come for me. I'm here," he talked her through it, making her orgasm even more intense.

And after she recovered and managed to give him a handjob while they both giggled at her inability to function, they managed to shower and get dressed. "I have a present for you," he said suddenly, with his hand on his neck, knowing this was going to be a pivotal moment but staying calm. "Art, you're overdoing it. The meal was enou-" "Please, Liana, just let me give it to you," he interrupted her because he knew the arguments would come later anyway; right now, he needed her less combat ready.

"Okay," she mumbled, and he went to his suitcase, pulling out a small jewelry box. "Art, what is this?" Liana looked at it as if it were a contagious disease wrapped in a bow. "Relax, it's not a ring. But it might make you angry, and I want you not to be mad at me. Can you do that? Not be mad before you let me talk?" he said, playing with his fingers to steady himself as he spoke. "What's going on, Art?" her voice became more serious. Every note of amusement left it as he handed her the box and sat cross-legged on the bed in front of her.

She looked at the key inside and then at him with a raised eyebrow, feeling her heart pounding faster. "The house is ready," he said, not taking his eyes off her. "Actually, it's been ready for a few weeks. The designer finished completely." He continued, seeing that Liana didn't move for a second. Not even blink. "I'm moving there, and I want you to move in with me." His look was almost desperate. He was so afraid of her reaction, as if he knew she was about to shatter him. "Art, that's not what we agreed..." she said quietly, afraid to move. "Fuck it, Liana. We haven't been in what we agreed to for a long time. We haven't been friends with benefits from the minute we agreed on it. You know that." He closed his eyes and took a long breath. "You built that house. The interior design consists of your ideas too. You love that house, and Liana, I'm pretty sure you love me too, and if you don't say otherwise, then I just want you to agree to live with me. That will be the new agreement," he was desperate. His voice shook, and he didn't speak logically, but he tried to convey a point.

"That will be the new agreement?" she asked, biting her lip, and he could see she was giving in. "Yes. The new agreement will be that we're in love and live together in the house we built for ourselves." He moved closer to her, his voice steadier as he kissed her neck and heard her sigh. "I can't pay for that house, Art. It cost you an insane amount of money," she mumbled. "Liana, the money doesn't matter to me. I have more money. Just what I earned from the Olympics covers that house. I'm not broke in any way." He tried to dramatize that this was the last thing that mattered to him.

"Okay," she said after a few seconds of silence, surprising him. Making him move back a bit and look at her. "Okay?" he asked, confused. He honestly thought it would take him more time. That he would have to twist and convince her.

"Yes, I think we can be in love and live together in a beautiful house. It's something we can handle," she shrugged and started to smile. "So I can say I love you without fearing you'll run away from me?" he continued, not believing he didn't have to struggle. "You already stated that I love you, so I think it would be fair if you also say you love-" He didn't let her finish the sentence before he kissed her. "Happy birthday, Liana Levy. I love you," he smiled into her mouth.

'Happy birthday Amanda, I miss you' will probably be the first message Liana sees when she opens her phone in the morning, but that's a worry for another day. Today, she's celebrating the best birthday she's ever had, probably because she's finally celebrating it on the actual date.

Hey guyssss, how are we doing? Let me know what you think as always, it literally makes my day. Also, send me more requests for blurbs. I love them and I will do at least another one between this and the next chapter. Patrick will come back to us. I just needed Art and Liana to be more stable at this point. Hope you're still enjoying it <3

taglist (if anyone wants to join, just ask): @suzysface tqd4455 @soberbabes @nina357 @lamoursansfin @marley1773 @ruyaas-world @apolloscastellan @primlovesdilfs @fangirl-kimora @serenadingtigers @imbabycowboy @do-it-for-kicks @izzywags478 @4deline08 @igotmajordaddyissues @jackierose902109 @ganana @yoitsme-04 @swetearss

#the time of our lives #challengers fic #art donaldson #patrick zweig #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #challengers #tashi duncan #art donaldson smut

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ominus-potato · 7 months ago

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I'm sorry if I sound a bit ignorant/oblivious/rude but what caused the Mr. Puzzles X Mario ship? I see it everywhere and the art is adorable but I don't know what started it? Was it a specific scene? Some dialogue I missed? Or is it a crack ship?

(once again I'm sorry if any of this sounds rude whatsoever, I'm bad at wording things)

Not rude at all dude! Thanks for asking!

For me (and for most people in assuming) ig Marware started as a crackship since it’s really funny to imagine the big bad Mr Puzzles ended up swooning for the dumbass Italian that is Mario.

It’s also playing on the dynamic of smart logical character x the biggest idiot you can imagine. They are complete polar opposites in terms of design, personality, body type, height, brains, EVERYTHING!! They are complete opposites of one another. So ofc they gotta be shipper. Also, it’s great potential for funny moments and I just love making funny comics!

In terms of actual scenes, there is this scene from “no tv makes Mario go coo coo crazy” where he gives CPR to Mr Puzzles and clings to his face, calling him “Mi Amour” which translates to “My Love”. Mario even is willing to kill his own brother so that Mr Puzzles comes back to life. Ofc, Mario was being dramatic and didn’t actually KNOW it was a live person he was saying that to but it’s worth noting.

In terms of actual shipping material, I like to imagine that whilst Mario spend hours and hours watching TV (Mr Puzzles) alone, Puzzles eventually grew to appreciate his time with the Italian. He was the only person who truly loved all of his shows no matter how stupid they were. Mario is too dumb to form an opinion on a TV show so to him, all of Puzzlevision was worth 5 stars. In fanon, I think that would have meant a lot to Mr Puzzles and he would have then developed feelings for Mario that way.

Of course, he would get infuriated by Mario at times, especially when he was messing with his ratings. But despite constantly screwing up his 5 stars, Mr Puzzles kept putting Mario as a lead role in every single one of his productions. I dunno about you but Mr Puzzles to me seems smart enough to know that if a character is screwing up his ratings, he shouldn’t recast him. Yet he did. Every single time.

Let’s not forget that Mario absolutely loves TV. He doesn’t care about how evil the TV is. When he was chasing down Mr Puzzles, it was purely because he wanted to watch more TV. He wasn’t trying to save his friends in the beginning because he didn’t even realise they were in danger. And once everyone was safe, the very first thing Mario did was go and watch TV.

Since Mario can be such a nuisance, I love to imagine their interactions just being Mario bothering Mr Puzzles and him being unable to say no to him because deep down he knows he loves him. It’s playing into Mr Puzzles being such a pathetic villain that even the dumbest meme we of the crew can handle him easily.

He’s just an evil genius who loves his dumbass Mario 🥰

Anyway yeah! That’s more or less everything. It’s mostly a crackship but to me, I genuinely love it and it may possibly be my favourite SMG4 ship. Thank you for reading!! Take these Marware screenshots on your way out.

#smg4 #smg4 mr puzzles #Marware #smg4 marware #mr puzzles x mario #mario x mr puzzles #smg4 shipping

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martialartslover7 · 2 months ago

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Why Asuka Deserves Better. #JusticeForAsuka

Oh, Asuka. My poor, dear Asuka. You were meant for greatness. You were meant, for so much more. Your second name only ended up becoming the subject of ridicule to the developers, despite them having breathed life into, with very clear intentions on making you a hidden MVP of the story.

No matter what any of these cringe dudebros in the FGC, the demented twits on Twitter, or the braindead Redditors claim about you, you are a character, that deserved to be on the top half of the totem pole.

You deserved to fight alongside Jin, Hwoarang and Xiaoyu, the main Tekken trio. You deserved to kick, at least ONE, of Mishima's asses, entirely on your own. You deserved to meet Jun, and maybe even train under her guidance to become a full-blooded Kazama, completing your training…

…You could have, you could have, it's all I can say with her. And it genuinely pisses me off, how she never evolved beyond what Tekken 5 showed to us. And listen, I know that, to many of you, she doesn't even seem like much "to begin with", but that's only because, you're not as invested as I am, much less in the character, and what she was truly meant to be, which, I am pretty sure, most of you just view as "shallow, coomer bait", or "gooner material for virgins".

Well, if you truly think that way, jokes on you, you're the true loser of this tale, as it just proves my point that, you're just a typical FGC shill, who is merely here for the ride, but not for the long term. Much less for the overall integrity of the game's integral core qualities, that made everyone else fall in love with it, in the first place.

And listen, I am fine with it, whatever floats your boat. But then stop trying to copy some pro player's opinion, like a mindless lemming, and then act so surprised, when people rightfully make fun of you for it. Whenever I see these people talking shit, I keep referring back to this meme right here:

But in all seriousness, since this is Asuka's birthday, and I want to clean up the trash, left behind by online circle-jerking sessions on any platform, claiming that "Asuka is just irrelevant, move on, buddy", allow me to take charge, and show to you, WHY Asuka always deserved to be relevant, in spite of the glaring evidence speaking against the argument. Lemme start with this:

When Asuka first debuted in Tekken 5, it became quickly clear, that her fighting style was a derivative, more up-front and aggressive version of Jun Kazama's style of martial arts. And if you really want to go there, I mean…

…Just look at her, man. This doesn't take a genius to realize: Her appearance, her design, the vibes she exuded, all of it, contributes to her feeling like a near-perfect, honorable and tasteful homage to Jun Kazama, who, by the way, at this point in the series, was declared "missing". She wasn't considered dead, just missing.

Not helped by the fact, that…

…Come on, look at her facial features, how can you NOT see a bit of Jun Kazama in her? Especially, when you put this in-game face model of hers…

…right next to Jun's facial model from the character select screen in Tekken 2. Am I being crazy, or do these look actually related, for real now? These two feel eeriely similar. And just for that alone, you could tell, the devs, at one point or another, certainly had bigger ideas with her.

But this is not where it ends. If it was, I wouldn't even be writing this stupid long thread.

Despite Asuka's ending in Tekken 5 being comical in nature, there is STILL some serious value to be found, a trace, a hint, of her being of far bigger importance than even the devs themselves ever gave her credit for…

…And seriously, sorry for going off-track about this, but, I am sure I am speaking on behalf of every Asuka fan, anywhere: FUCK. OFF. With this bullshit mindset of:

"Asuka was never meant to be a serious character, stop trying to pretend, there was ever anything salvageable about her, when all she ever was, is just a cringe, cliché moe anime tsundere girl with huge honkers and a rotten, loud-mouthed attitude, that makes me want to rip my ears off, every time she opens her mouth. Stop the cap. You probably just goon for her, in that case, you're a horny pedo, get outta my face." -- Every FGC shill on social media

And listen, I know, it probably was never exactly like this, but all the key- and buzzwords probably allign, because, I have been there, numerous times, especially in YouTube comment sections and Twitter. And it wasn't just limited to Asuka. This is a universal problem, that can be applied to all fighting game characters in general. We all know the drill by now, the moment you get confronted with the FGC, hoping to find at least one nerd, who is willing to partake in story discussions and theories like in the anime community, the majority of users will, 9 times out of 10, claim:

"I don't care about story in fighting games, no one should, it's a Nothing Burger. You cannot expect that quality from something, not meant to be played, all by yourself. Oh, by the way, I had sex with your grandma." -- Some loser pro player on social media

How. Fucking. Often. Did I hear this justification. ANYWHERE? Try to guess. Believe me, the count is too high to count at this point. Why are people THIS freaking boring in the FGC? Is the part about, "being so accepting of crushing mediocrity, and never wanting to wish for better" the most common commodity these days? You just want to play the game? Good. Then do me, and everyone else, especially yourself, a favor, and…

SHUT THE FUCK UP! NO ONE ASKED FOR YOUR MENTALLY IMPAIRED TAKES, WHEN YOU NEVER CARED TO BEGIN WITH! SHUT! UP!

But, now that I got THAT out of my system, back to Asuka. As I said, her Tekken 5 ending, despite not being much to go off of, is probably, the one and ONLY time, where we see Asuka, being at her absolute best, despite not being much to go off of, is probably, the one and ONLY time, where we see Asuka, being at her absolute best, despite the comical outcome, which, I am obviously going to cut away, because I didn't come here to waste everyone's time. I am glad to give reminders, here you go:

…and what happens after this? Does it ever get expanded upon? Does Asuka become relevant in any sort of way? Does she maybe get the chance to fight at Jin's side--

Oh, right. No, this is not what happened. What actually happened, is this:

And just seeing her laugh this maniacally like a psychopath, it just reminds me of this laughter right here, when Mephiles killed Sonic in 06, except, Lili's creation itself killed, what little left there was of Asuka's potential as a character, so, same thing:

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But just wait, this isn't the only thing we came here for, and that is me dunking on Lili, which, at this point in time, has become far too easy for me, so I will leave that for some other time. For now, just a reminder: It never improved from here. Instead, it just got sadder, the more time passed. And for some reason, everyone is so accepting of it, despite Asuka's and Lili's """""rivalry""""" (or lack thereof, as, by this point, it feels more like an ongoing trainwreck, circus performance, than an actual rivalry to take seriously) feeling like a shittier "carbon copy" of Sakura and Karin.

A can of worms I may need to tackle in the near future...

Since it's her birthday, let us all come together, as Asuka fans, and celebrate, what makes her so great in the first place. And one of those things being:

Her badass attitude.

Ignoring her arcade ending for a moment, every other scene with her in Tekken 5, may it be either against Feng Wei or Jinpachi, was this: Peak. Not much else to add. And because I like being petty, I will gladly remind you all again, why I am saying this, no further comment needed.

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THIS is why, many of us grew to love Asuka. Every situation she was put in, she just stood tall. She didn't feel even remotely intimidated by Feng's appearance, let alone Jinpachi, and he looks the most demonic. Any normal person would have just run away, but she never did. And considering she managed to "heal" Jin afterwards, her Kazama blood actually meant something here, which leads me to assume, her fight with Jinpachi must have been insanely one-sided. It's not much, but considering the implications of her ending, and Kazuya's ending in Tekken 4:

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This was very likely, a setup for Asuka's character. Considering that, it never openly specified, how pure-blooded of a Kazama you need to be, to have this level of power potency, to match and reject the Devil Gene. Especially since, Jin had always been more Mishima, than Kazama, even by blood. And even if, Asuka just so happens to be from a Side Branch of the Kazama family, this doesn't really change anything, the consistency still alligns with what we have learned. And again, someone like Jin, who was more on the dominant Mishima spectrum, still managed to keep his own powers under control, thanks to his mother's Kazama DNA...

...for a while, at least.

Meaning, as things stand, Jun is not the only one, who was able to keep Kazuya's Devil Gene under locket, to give herself a fighting chance against him. And if Jun managed with him, then surely, Asuka must have done the same to Jinpachi.

And again, I am fully aware that, this is all purely speculation, but the points still stand, even if it doesn't get on-screen confirmation, the implications still hold weight, even now, despite all the retcons. A hidden W for us, Asuka fam. Yay!

(Megumin, because her English VA, Erica Mendez, is just pitch perfect for Asuka, should Bloodline ever get a season 2, don't @ me)

Also, another reason, why we love Asuka, even in some non-canon material, are scenes like this:

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*cough* Ahem, considering the thumbnail, I am looking respectfully, please don't smack me, Asuka.

But leaving my bonobo monkey brain thoughts aside, this ending may not be canon, but let's be real: Does it even matter? THIS is the Asuka we are all looking for. She may be a tough cookie, but this ending shows another major strength of hers, that alligns with what we know from her in the canon games:

Her pure soul.

Sure, she throws punches, and yes, she is brash in her wording, but here, as you can see, she doesn't immediately throw herself into the frey, coming at them swinging. She remains patient, even with said patience gradually dwindling with them, because, we all know, mobsters suck. She has a perfectly good reason to get moody on them, but she chooses not to, at least, not the moment she arrives. That only proves one thing: She might be a vigilante, but getting violent on people is not something she likes doing regurlarly, unless, she isn't even the aggressor in the situation.

In fact, despite being given no incentive to do so, she still decides to show empathy to them, and promising to let them off the hook, if they start behaving from now on. Whether that's truly effective or not, considering that we are talking about Yankees here, that's a different question entirely. The point is: Asuka remains the bigger person, first and foremost, despite living in a hostile, unfriendly environment. If that doesn't make you sympathize with her, then, allow me to remind you, WHY she decided to join the 5th tournament in the first place:

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Her father.

That makes her stand out: While most competitors in the series join for monetary gains, in hopes of gaining control of the Mishima Zaibatsu, or just becoming famous...

...AND DESIRING VENGEANCE ON A FUCKING MISHIMA FOR THE UPTEENTH TIME...

...Once again, another sympathy point to garner from her: She is not fighting for any grand goals, she just wants to get penance on the person, who dared to lay a hand on her family. That simple action by itself, speaks volumes of Asuka's overall character. The fact, that she goes this far, in joining a tournament, which has become infamous for being more of a macabre bloodsport than an actual tournament, while she was barely around Xiaoyu's age, too...

This girl, will gladly lay her life down for you, if you're family to her.

Again. The Jun Kazama parallels just keeping coming with this attitude of hers. She knew her life was at risk, just by joining this damned tournament, and yet, she didn't give a damn. She joined regardless. That alone tells you EVERYTHING you need to know about her character basics.

And another point to be made about her:

She is genuinely hilarious. Check her out.

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Screw this moronic slapstick humor, where everyone gets turned into a butt monkey for no reason...

I AM LOOKING RIGHT AT YOU, HARADA.

Another reason why I love Asuka: Every situation she gets put in, even when she is the one being made the "loser" of the situation, the way she reacts to all these ludicrous moments feels SO. FUCKING. RELATEABLE. Every time she is confronted with Lili, or she is faced with ridiculous circumstances, like pretty much all her interactions during the Scenario Campaign, she feels like my personal rage translator. The self-awareness she brings, is my jam. And the sarcasm she throws in Hwoarang's face is so freaking delightful, that moment still makes me laugh.

This is where you know: You know a character is good, when they become super relateable in instances like that. You don't need slapstick for this, just have them react in ways that any normal person would.

Another point for contention, and this is one where, if you think about it for a few moments, it just makes too much sense to happen, but you end up becoming sad, that it never got to that point. And that is this:

(Image done by JIN-XIA-HWO-ASK-STE)

These four look so good together as a team, anyone saying "No", you are just lying to yourselves. These four look like a dream team. And I am not just saying that from a design and aesthetic point of view, but also, well, Jin is the only Kazama in the team, that cannot keep his own powers in check, unless he went through very extreme measures to do so. This team needs one Kazama, that can keep his power in-line, preventing him from going haywire again, and risk the lives of Xiaoyu and Hwoarang. Asuka, is, if you will, the super glue, that keeps this trio together.

And though we never saw them interact as a unit, Asuka's prologue in Tekken 6, once again, shows that, despite having all the reasons to be spite- and resentful of her relative, for his actions having gotten negatively reflected back onto her, due to them sharing the same second name, by some freakish "misfortune", look at this:

...Do you see her having any killing intent? Like, does she truly want to exude true harm on her relative, despite everything he has done? Nope. And if it's presented in this sort of fashion, it becomes more than clear, she isn't taking herself TOO seriously. And I like that. She might be a good guy, but she isn't living any delusions, she is aware that her own behavior is not exactly acceptable, and as we established: Family first. Which is why, I am not sensing malice from her. She just wants to have an excuse to smack some sense into him, because, that is how she expresses: I care about you.

Oh, Asuka. We really don't deserve you.

But the biggest point of all...

...and I am sure, everyone is able to agree with me on this, on how to make Asuka the true complete package for an awesome character, forget Lili...

...we need a rivalry between her and Reina. I mean, do I even need to explain why? Just look at these two, and dare to tell me, this doesn't sound like peak story material.

(Image done by @_jelart)

Asuka - A heroic tomboy, fighting for others, never herself, and a Kazama, that purifies the supernatural evil

Reina - An evil tomboy, fighting for dominance, to assert herself above others, which is true to her Mishima nature, enforced by Heihachi, and bearing the Devil Gene (technically, she is a Hachijo, but that makes it more epic)

Kazama VS Hachijo.

Both are foils to each other, and unlike Lili, Reina is an actual challenge for Asuka, not just in terms of combat, but also differing backgrounds, how they were raised, and the clans they both come from. It's just perfect, man. Come on, Bamco, don't be cowards for real, do this. You will have a cash cow waiting for you. Anything to get away from this airhead blond.

Oh, also, another excuse for me to show off this amazing artwork, to match Reina's Devil form:

(Big thanks to @Raydash30 on Twitter for this, you rock, dude)

In conclusion, Asuka Kazama is a queen among queens. In all of fighting games to me.

No matter anyone says, she is deserving of so much more, and I will never forgive Harada for just shoving her into the background, that would be bad enough, but never even TRYING to resolve this "conflict" between her and Lili. This has gone very stale after a while. Like, I don't mind comedy with Asuka, but what you do, my dude, is the equivalent by putting someone in a torture chamber, and putting a laugh track over it. It's not fun, it never was, and it never will be. Outside of it having overstayed its welcome.

Even the white bread basic bitches in the community, who cannot tell the runs from apple sauce would be able to tell you, how old this has grown with these two. Just go on Reddit. OF ALL PLACES. Or in YouTube comment sections, whenever Asuka was a topic in any way. EVERYONE says the same thing: She was meant for so much more. If that doesn't set the tone, then I don't know what will.

YOU HAD ONE FUCKING JOB. ONE. FUCKING. JOB.

AND YOU FAILED HER. EVERYONE LOSES.

If you're interested, check out my video here of why Asuka deserves better, it's her birthday, and I pray to, whatever god is out there, if there even is one at this fucking point, that it will go up from here for her. I am not living any delusions though:

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Other than that though, one video summarized Asuka's best core design aspects better than I ever could. And here it is. Check it out, it's very interesting how much thought was actually put into her, overall.

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And for more details, if you need a cohesive timeline for all this, check out my Twitter thread for this.

And to end it off in an epic way, here is, what I call, Asuka's theme song for when she fully embraces the main character energy. Enjoy. Now go and do AMVs with dat shizz.

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And with that...

Happy Birthday, Asuka. This one is for you.

(Image done by my bestie, Jared789 from DeviantArt)

Peace.

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 2 years ago

Text

Playing Pretend (Part 8)

Roy is a bit distracted during the wedding ceremony.

Roy Kent x Reader

1.3k words

Warnings: Language, Roy pining, pining, pining

Series Masterlist

Roy had been hoping to see you just once more before the ceremony. Partly to give you reassurance that he’d be right there, eyes on you, but, more selfishly, he wanted a glimpse of you in your bridesmaid dress so he wouldn’t gawk at you as you walked down the aisle.

Unfortunately, your sister kept you busy, so there was no chance for that. Instead, he was only able to send you a quick text as he found his seat a couple rows behind your parents, reminding you that he’d be your anchor when you needed one and jokingly wishing you luck walking in a straight line after the night before.

His heart skipped a beat when you sent him a simple Thanks Roy. You’re the very best ❤️

He felt like a fucking teenager, the way he got so excited over a fucking heart emoji. But he couldn’t help it; it was you. Everything you did made him feel like a stupid, lovesick boy: the way you smiled at him, those moments when you were physically affectionate, your ability to make him laugh with stupid memes sent in the middle of the day just because it made you think of him, the fact that you always remembered little details like his metal allergy.

Roy wondered what it was like for you watching him date. He knew what it was like for him to watch you. He fucking hated it. For those three years you were with Jim, Roy felt so fucking tortured. Watching you smile at Jim, embrace Jim, kiss Jim, listening to you gush about Jim, confide in Roy and his sister that you were going to marry Jim. It had all been too much. For a brief while, Roy had considered taking a break from your friendship to force himself to get over you; he had lasted all of two days before sending you a text about the book he was reading because he knew you’d like it too.

As the garden filled with poshly dressed people, Roy thought back on those rare occasions he’d brought women around you. You were always quieter in those instances, not hugging Roy as tight, not engaging his date in any sort of conversation if you could help it. It wasn’t as if you were anti-social; whenever he brought around Jamie or another teammate, you were bubbly and friendly, leaving them with a lovely impression and questioning Roy about why he hadn’t asked you out. It was only his dates you were icy to. When one woman asked him about your coldness, Roy had shrugged it off, assuming you weren’t feeling well; that particular date had rolled her eyes and called Roy thick.

He knew. Somewhere in the back of his head he knew, because he’d seen it the night before when Jim’s cousin simply glanced at him. You were jealous. Jealous of the models and the influencers and the actresses. Even a little jealous of Keeley Jones, even though you’d met her on multiple occasions and liked her. Ever since you were thirteen and heard Roy talk about his first girlfriend, you were painfully, white-hot, devastatingly jealous of every single girl and woman who had Roy Kent’s attention.

No, Roy scolded himself, ignoring the sound of music starting. You couldn’t be jealous. Because being jealous meant…

Fuck.

The model whose name he’d forgotten now was right. He really was thick. When he was at the youth academy, you used to call and write him all the time, even more than his own family did. You always had a smile for him, always a hug that lasted just a moment too long, always found an excuse to pass him and press yourself close to him. At matches, it was your voice he could hear over the roar of the crowd, shrieking his name with excitement and pride. After he’d truly busted his knee, you were at his door with a bottle of whiskey and not a word of pity, knowing he’d be getting that from the rest of the world. Every glance across the room, every text sent for no reason other than to say hello, every movie night with your leg pressed against his, every moment of teasing from your family this weekend, all of it added up to one stupidly obvious truth:

You were probably just as in love with him as he was with you.

Roy didn’t get much time to sit with this newfound revelation before the procession began. He hadn’t even noticed Jim take his place beside the minister, nor did he care to look in that direction. Instead, his eyes anxiously awaited the sight of you.

He exchanged knowing glances with Paul as he and Jen marched down the aisle; it was as if your brother-in-law could see the clarity Roy finally felt. Then came that bridesmaid that couldn’t keep her eyes off Roy, but he didn’t pay her any mind. Not when he finally saw you coming down the aisle.

You were gorgeous. Of course you were. You were always gorgeous. Your gaze immediately found Roy and your smile widened. For someone about to watch her sister marry her ex, you looked relaxed, glowing even. And somehow, Roy knew it was because of him.

As everyone stood for Lauren’s entrance, Roy couldn’t resist glancing back at you. As he had hoped, you were already looking right at him.

The ceremony went off without a hitch, much to everyone’s relief. There was no telling what your sister would do if something had been amiss. Roy began to follow the crowd towards the reception, wondering if he could manage to find some secluded corner to have a drink while he waited for you to come back from taking bridal party photos; he was rarely interested in schmoozing and talking about his work with strangers, even more so now that he was reflecting on his painfully obvious realization.

“Roy.”

He didn’t even have to turn to know it was your hand on his arm.

You smiled up at him, radiant, almost goddess-like in your bridesmaid dress and flower crown. He had to admit, despite Lauren’s Lauren-ness, he definitely liked her choice in bridesmaid outfits.

“I was just heading to the reception,” he explained. “Figured you had pictures and shit.”

You nodded, wringing your hands. “Yeah. I just… wanted to say thank you.” You took a step closer to him. “For being there today. Lauren wasn’t too happy that she saw you making that face at me but…” You shrugged with a shy chuckle. “It helped.” Without another word, you threw your arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight hug. “You’re amazing,” you whispered before letting go. Your hands lingered on his arms as you looked up at him.

His hands froze on your waist as he looked down at you, every instinct in his head begging him to say something.

But not yet. Not now. Not right before you were supposed to be taking photos with your family. Because what if he was totally and completely wrong? The awkwardness on your face would be documented for all eternity.

Even worse, what if he was right? He’d finally admit his feelings, you’d admit yours, and then he’d have to let you go be all smiles next to fucking Jim. Fuck no. Once Roy told you how he felt, he didn’t want to spend even one second away from you.

“Roy?”

Your timid voice brought him out of his thoughts. “Go smile pretty for the camera,” he teased, kissing your forehead. “Just do your fucking best not to outshine the bride. Although-” His eyes trailed up and down your figure before returning to your face. “-that might be fucking impossible.”

The blush that appeared on your face made him feel almost proud. “I’ll do my best,” you laughed, giving his biceps a squeeze. “Photos shouldn’t take too long, so I should be back soon.”

“I’ll have a strong drink waiting for you,” Roy promised.

“And a dance?” You raised your eyebrows, knowing Roy was never much for dancing.

Roy shrugged and pressed another kiss to your forehead. “As many dances as you fucking want.”

#roy kent playing pretend #he's here he's there he's every fucking where #roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfic #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent fluff #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fic

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scekrex · 11 months ago

Note

An idea? Did somebody just say they have an idea? Oh wait, that would be me! Hi, hello, love, me again, the little pretty devil on your shoulder that encourages you to sin, or rather, create ✨

Just Adam, reader and Lute playing UNO. You probably knew this was coming. It's basically them just playing it like that one video on Smii7y's channel where everybody basically just yells at each other. Honestly it would be so funny to read about them playing, the reader placing a card for Lute, a nice +4 (Fucking hate that bitch, the sole reason for my misery during that game), what he didn't think of was the possibility of Lute having another +4. She put it down on top of the reader's (They play by the rule where the +4 or +2 stack) and Adam just goes "I can't believe you've done this!" (Like the meme with the British dude in sunglasses getting punched in the face), reader laughing and mocking him with "Oh, I cAn'T bElIeVe YoU'vE dOnE tHiS!" with a British accent, but then Adam finds another +4 in his cards, places it down and looks at reader with a satisfactory smirk. When readers sees it he just goes "Fuck, I actually can't believe you've done this. You fuck" with an accusatory tone, realising he has to pick up 12 cards and just flips his cards like Steve Harvey sometimes does at stupid answer during Family Feud saying "Man, fuck this, I ain't playing with you no more! You best believe I'll get my revenge. No damn sex for you" while walking away, obviously directing it for Adam, but Lute just going "DISGUSTANG" and Adam just going "He was not speaking to you, bitch. Mind ya business. This one is mine, there's my life on the line😭". I just see the possibility of them playing UNO while bored in Heaven would be the funniest shit ever 😂 UNO destroys relationships, kids... AND emotionally damages you 😭

Nah bc they'd roast the living shit outta each other. Just imagine how they'd react when playing Mario Kart, they'd tear open each other's throats.

Tired Games

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, crack fic comin' through whoop whoop

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

All you had wanted was a chill evening with your husband and Lute, to relax and enjoy the day off. So you three sat on the floor of your and Adam's apartment, in front of you there was a stack of UNO cards. You had been playing for a couple hours by now and slowly all of you were losing your patience. UNO was one of the games that always ended in fights, either because Lute was convinced the ‘you can stack a +4 on a +4’ rule was entirely made up - she had once shown you a tweet from the company that said doing so was against the rules - or it was like today.

“Hurry up babes,” Adam poked you in the side which caused you to flinch away from his touch and bat his hand away, “Stop that you touch starved bitch.” You slapped a +4 onto the stack, offering Lute the most wicked grin you had in store, “Sucks to be you, bitch.” Lute however was having none of it, she returned the grin, equally wicked and pulled another +4 out of her deck.

The look the first man gave you was priceless, he looked truly betrayed while a bit of annoyance gleamed in his golden eyes, “I can't believe you've fucking done this.” You chuckled to yourself as you poked him back, a small giggle escaped you as he flinched away just like you had. “Oh, I can't believe you've fucking done this, go cry about it bitch,” you mocked him as you laid down. You were starting to get tired but you also wanted to finish the game. The problem was when you grew tired you also grew short tempered and so you knew it was only a matter of time until things would escalate. Still you continued as you put your head in Adam's lap. The brunette looked down on you and offered you a small smile, then his hand was in your hair and for a tiny moment your eyes fell shut as you embraced the warm touch your husband gave you.

The first man stayed silent for a long time as he went through his cards, clearly thinking hard about whether to play the card he had or not. “Hurry up, old man,” Lute grumbled and kicked his shin, that made Adam yelp in pain and scoot backwards a little - he made sure to move drag your body with him so that you could continue to use him as a pillow - to get away from the executor, “Geez, the fuck is wrong with you?” he complained as he played yet another +4 card. The smirk on his face was sweet, so sweet that you genuinely wanted to tear it off and throw it in the trash. You looked at the stack of cards, then up at Adam and back down at the cards. That meant you had to draw 12 godforsaken cards. Fucking 12.

“Fuck that,” you flipped your cards over in anger and pushed yourself up - away from Adam - so that you sat on the floor before you fully got up, “Fuck you,” you flipped Adam off before turning to Lute, “And fuck you too.” With crossed arms and in a shitty mood you walked over to the couch and wrapped your wings around your body in order to hide from the people sitting on the floor. “I ain't playing with you with you no more,” you grumbled quietly, then raised your voice a little so that Adam could hear your threat, “No fucking sex for you.”

Lute's face twisted in disgust and she wrinkled her nose at your words, “Disgusting.” Adam raised an eyebrow and side eyed her, not sure if she truly thought you had addressed to words to her or if she was playing, “Bitch, he was talking to me, this is my punishment, my fucking life's on the line here,” the first human soul in heaven whined and got up from the floor as well. “Don’t forget so is your dick,” Lute reminded the brunette who just groaned at that as he walked over to you. He carefully nudged the tips of your wings apart and really couldn't help the smile when he saw your pointing face. “Aw, c’mon babes, it's just a stupid fucking game,” he hummed as he kneeled down to be on eye level with you, his hands were resting on your knees which were pressed against your chest. “Fuck off, I said what I said,” you mumbled as you were avoiding eye contact. You knew too well that he could plead so prettily with them golden eyes of his, looking straight into them meant risking taking your words back and letting him win. He put a finger underneath your chin and tilted your head slightly, he basically forced you to look at him. All it took was one glance and you were done for, you simply knew you lost.

Your eyes must've given that away because Adam leaned in to give you a short yet soft kiss, “That’s a good boy.” You turned your face away, grumbling something about how he should watch his mouth. “You two done with your shit? Can we continue?” Lute interrupted and while you loved her like a sister, you would've loved to grab her by the wings and throw her out the window. You might save that for later though. You pushed yourself away from the soft fabric of the couch and right into Adam's arms, “Actually,” you mumbled as you wrapped your arms around his neck so that he could carry you, “I think I’m going to bed.” Tiredness had won you over once again but Lute understood, of course she did. “Feel free to crash on the couch, danger tits,” Adam offered the exorcist but she shook her head, “I’d rather not want to wake up to the sound of you two fucking again, thanks. One time was more than enough.” Adam shrugged, he thought that was fair. And while the two of them had that little conversation, you had already fallen asleep in Adam's arms.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x male reader #male reader #adam x y/n #adam x reader #adam x you

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ihrtslabyul · 4 months ago

Note

Could you write relationships headcanons for Will and LJ please? 🥺 (separately of course)

YESYESYES MY TWO STUPID HUSBANDSSS

Will grossman + laughing jack x reader headcanons (non poly) !

I love you sm anon tysm for requesting this !

WILL GROSSMAN

- y'all are like that one " the bride and the ugly ass groom" meme

- like you know couples where the gf is like a whole entire goddess and the boyfriends is just a stupid loser? Yeah that's you and him.

- he's extremely clingy , following you like a lost puppy looking for it's mother every chance he gets.

- he's also heavy on pda too,he will literally melt if you smother his face in kisses while you are out in public,he always has to hold you in some way too,such as holding your waist or hand,or simply just putting a arm around you. He wants to feel you close to him every millisecond.

- if you laugh to his stupid jokes,listen to him contentfully while he rambles about how skibidi toilet is a masterpiece, he will marry you immediately.

- he's honestly really clumsy, so you need to like keep an eye out on him on him incase he falls down the stairs (or commits vehicular manslaughter)

LAUGHING JACK

- you thought will was clingy? lj is even clingier, which makes sense due to his fuckass abandonment issues that Isaac gave him.

- you probably have to teach him about boundaries and when you do, he will respect them but still be clingy,he's just scared you will disappear from his grasp if he doesn't hold you,he can't bear to lose and get abandoned by someone he trusted once again.

- he has insane jealousy issues,he can't stand you talking to another one that's not him,his monochrome heart,which used to be all colourful,aches when he sees your pretty eyes on someone that's not him.

- however he will just be jealous in silence. He doesn't want you to think he's just just being way to controlling or possessive. But the look on his face,eyes full of envy and jealousy,says otherwise and you had to reassure you had eyes for no other,but him only.

- you love and accepted him for he truly was,he will never do something you won't like. Best bf/husband 100/10

#creepypasta #creepypasta scenarios #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta imagine #creepypasta fandom #laughing jack #laughing jack headcanons #laughing jack x reader #laughing jack fluff #laughing jack x you #laughing jack creepypasta #will grossman #will grossman x you #will grossman headcanons #will grossman x reader #creeps comic

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dollcherray · 8 months ago

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.⋅♡ ARMY DREAMERS ♡⋅.

✮⋆˙ Smg3 x reader who didnt go back to normal after meme rehab

✮⋆˙ Request: Hello! can i request smg3 x reader who wasnt able to get back to normal when they were back from the meme rehab?

✮⋆˙ Notes: lost the request:( but here ya go anon who requested me! (if your even seeing this), reader was sent to the meme rehab along with smg4, also, this is just a funsie little thing i was doing before the hiatus and i got some time to finish some quick writing, requests are still not open, sorry little sillies 😭🫶🏼 this is short and not proofread.

✮⋆˙ Type: Angst/comfort, Headcanons, romantic.

✮⋆˙ Song: Army dreamers - Kate Bush

♡ First things first: he felt guilty to send you to the meme rehab with SMG4, i mean, he loves you so much but your obnoxious "memeing" was starting to annoy and disrupt the others and his works, so he hesitantly throwed you into the back of the bus with SMG4, even if his gut feeling was saying not to.

♡ He felt so guilty for sending you into the rehab, he greatly regrets it, he wished he never made his decision and that he listened to his gut feeling, because you would have been okay, but no, of course he had to make the stupid decision to send you to that godforsaken place.

♡ SMG3 blames himself so much for how you are now, he cant forgive himself for 'destroying your happiness', the worst part to him is that the last time he saw your normal self was when he was 'mad" at you, SMG3 just wants everything to go back to normal, this boy is so so sad please someone give him a hug </3

♡ He would try to get you back to normal with his meme powers with SMG4 (who was forced to) but when that doesn't work, he tries to re-teach you about memes and etc to see if you can get back to normal.

♡ Talkin' about SMG4 he is secretly mad that the "degenerate" could get back to normal and you didnt, SMG3 probably contemplated either to steal the blue boy's meme lobe to put in your brain.

♡ It was so weird to him, and horrible at the same time, your sweet and caring touch suddenly turned into a robotic and cold one, no display of emotions other than cold ones, like you were truly a robot.

♡ Although you are this monotone robotic self, he still loves you, he has hopes one day you'll go back to your "normally fun" self, so you can make him smile again, so he can finally take the guilt off his chest.

♡ We dont talk about the doctor... let's say he is at another location... 5 different locations to be more precise, how lucky.

♡ SMG3 would sometimes try to get Mario to do his weird shit to see if it can actually pop something in your mind, but he stops doing it since he finally sees how stupid it sounds, he's just desperate, he wants to get you back to normal!!!

♡ The crew tries helping him by trying to show some memories of you before going to rehab, videos, photos, anything, but sadly, it was another failed attempt.

♡ The crew sometimes tries to comfort him by trying to tell and show him that it wasn't really his fault, and if anything it was more the crew's fault for bringing that idea in the first place, but no matter how much they would try to prove he's innocent, he always mentally judges himself.

♡ Well, seems like he'll have to try and re-teach everything to you, but don't worry, he'll be patient for you, oh god how he wishes he would have yanked you off that bus the moment his gut feeling told him to.

♡ "tell your baby, that i'm your baby"

#۶♡ৎ R E Q U E S T S #✮⋆˙#˚﹕⋆⊹#smg3 x reader #smg4 headcanon #reader x smg3 #smg3 headcanons #smg3 #angst #angst headcanons #smg4 fandom #x reader #୨୧ cherry works

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phireco · 6 months ago

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Why I think that voting is pointless. Vote with your dollar. Stop buying from Amazon and Walmart. And take the time that you spend trolling the internet to put out intellectual writing for others to absorb, instead of memes, that provide a unique point of view. We can't all possibly think either point A or point B is right. That motion is completely ridiculous if you have any respect for probability and math. The people that are running do not represent us and we have been stupid enough as a citizenry to put them back in office again and again.

I've been to over 20 countries and traveled all over this world and seeing all different ways of living it I'll tell you what, we are looking less and less like one of the Premier places to live. I give it 20 years before I would like the places I've been in Southeast Asia where you look to your left and right on the bus, and you see a goat in a chicken. There's already more tents in the major American cities than there are good jobs. God forbid the Democrats or the Republicans have a solution. The Republicans have the same man running in his third consecutive presidential election representing half of the country. The Democrats have a ANOTHER First time nominee that no one thinks is the best their party has to offer.

So I'm not even going to blame the awful selection of people that represent us. I'm going to blame the idiots that register Democrat and Republican which make up the vast majority of this country. All of you are willing to make up your mind on an issue before you even hear it based on which party is arguing in the issue's favor. Anyone who makes up their mind before they hear an issue is a moron. And our country, in both parties, is chock full of moron!

It’s not the politicians we should criticize anymore. Consider how they pander to people whose interests they consistently neglect. They represent none of their true needs, yet still, half of the population admires them while the other half despises them. The opposing figures experience the same divided loyalty—this cycle is fundamentally flawed.

The blame doesn’t lie solely with the politicians; it rests on us. We should have demanded better a long time ago, even rising up for change. It’s not the politicians who are at fault; it’s the public that deserves scrutiny. Let go of hope for a moment.

If the politicians were truly the sole problem, where are the bright and principled individuals who should be stepping up to lead this nation with integrity? In truth, we seem to lack such visionary leaders in our society. Most people appear consumed by trivialities, distracted in shopping malls rather than engaging with the critical issues we face. For my part, I’ve accepted a personal resolution: on election day, I stay home. I do not vote. My reasons are twofold.

First, voting feels meaningless. This country was bought and sold long ago. What transpires every four years is simply a reshuffling of the same rhetoric.

Secondly, I’ve come to believe that those who vote relinquish their right to complain. Others often suggest that abstaining from voting strips one of that very right—a notion I reject. Where's the logic in that? If you cast your ballot and elect dishonest and incompetent leaders who mismanage the country, then you shoulder the responsibility for their actions. You bear the weight of our current state, the dismal future we hand our children, and the decline in intellectual capability that increasingly permeates society.

I, having not participated in the electoral game—staying home on election day—hold no responsibility for the choices made by those in power. I know that shortly, there will be an exciting election that many seem to relish. I’ll be at home that day, doing very little, but I know one thing: the only difference between me and the people that vote is that I'll actually produce something that represents my interests, even if in a small way.

I don’t vote. I see through the charade. It's a diversions that distract us from the journey of intellectual growth. When confronted with the issues of low intelligence and poor decision-making, people often leap to the conclusion that education is the remedy. They call for more funding—more books, teachers, classrooms—believing more resources will solve everything. Yet when we point out that despite these efforts, children continue to struggle academically, the response is often to lower standards instead. This results in a temporary boost in passing rates, making the school look good while the national IQ quietly declines. Before long, gaining access to college might just require possessing a pencil, and understanding the complexities of the end that writes versus the end that erases.

And then we scratch our heads, wondering why 24 countries produce more scientists than we do. We wonder why we are no longer in the top 25 and overall quality of education. Barely the best in this continent. We're just one slot above Mexico.

Politicians know how to wield the word “education,” and they often shield themselves behind three pillars: the flag, the Bible, and children. They tout programs like “No Child Left Behind,” yet it wasn’t long ago they were advocating for a “head start.” Are children gaining ground or losing it?

There is a fundamental reason why education falters, and it's not going to improve. Don’t expect a miracle; accept the reality as it is. The true owners of this country—wealthy business interests that orchestrate decisions and maintain control—are not interested in an educated populace capable of critical thinking. They benefit from a workforce obedient enough to follow orders, yet just intelligent enough to operate machinery and handle paperwork but not to challenge the deteriorating quality of their jobs, benefits, hours, or retirement security.

They have their sights set on your social security funds, too, seeking to reclaim that money to line the pockets of their Wall Street allies. They will achieve this eventually because they own everything—your future, your choices.

This is a vast, intertwined club, and neither you nor I are included. It’s a club that beats its members over the head with messages on what to believe and consume. The playing field is uneven; the game is rigged, and it appears that few notice or care.

Good, honest people from every walk of life—whether blue-collar or white-collar—continue to elect wealthy figures indifferent to their plight. The owners count on this ignorance, banking on the fact that Americans remain blissfully unaware of the injustices they tolerate.

The truth is simple: the American Dream exists because you must be asleep to believe in it.

When the terrorists attacked our country on September 11th 2001, we United as one and vowrd to never forget. Never in a million years did I think that's what we actually met was that, we're going to commemorate the anniversary of the year but they will accomplish their goal and destroy America and everything it stands for by knocking down a few buildings and killing a couple thousand people. Are teenagers have killed more since with guns. And don't mistake me. I'm not downplaying that tragedy. I'm saying that the terrorists knew what they are doing and we are playing right into their hands by standing here divided. Check out my video if you want to flash back to hell it felt To be an American in the weeks following that awful day.

youtube

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nomsfaultau · 5 months ago

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silly little fluff scene from Fault that I'll probably just chuck in there randomly

The one eye Wilbur had was actually a rather lovely shade of brown. A rich, loamy color, dark and intense. The underside was bruised, countless restless nights leaving their mark. Tommy stared deeply, intent even as his own gaze wanted to falter. Their wills contested against one another, and Tommy scowled as the match went on, met by a sharp smirk. Wilbur’s hand twitched, faintly distracting, but Tommy refused to buckle, staring dead on at him. A nightmarish entity lunged out of the void in Wilbur’s face, claws halfway phasing coldly through him. Tommy yelped and jolted back, scrambling to avoid getting bitten. At once, the abyss dweller scampered back in as Wilbur threw up his hands. “I win!”

“That was cheating!” Tommy shouted. “It doesn’t count if you jumpscare me!”

“But you blinked,” Wilbur said smugly.

Tommy grumbled, but smudged another ruby tally mark under Wilbur’s staring contest score. Tommy was pretty firmly in the lead, and was proud of the fact, even though it wasn’t entirely fair since Wilbur was chronically sleep-deprived. “I don’t want to play with you anymore if you’re going to cheat,” Tommy whined. Plus, if he stopped while he was in the lead, he could hold his victory over Wilbur’s head for the rest of their lives.

“We’ll play with you,” Tubbo offered kindly.

Tommy scowled. “Shut up. You don’t need to blink.” The insectoid dropped their façade at once, disappointed. Yeah, no, Tommy wasn’t stupid, he’d noticed their eyelids were purely for expression purposes. Also, he didn’t really want to stare at Tubbos’ stupid bee eyes given they were weird and bulgey and segmented. Large, kinda like a cartoon character’s, except this was real life and such proportions were freaky. It was actually rather unfortunate how often Tommy looked at Tubbo. Like, he was used to it by that point, but still. Truly Tommy’s life was a tragedy for that reason and that reason alone. “And I can’t even do it with The Blade.”

The boar glanced up from his book. “Hey, there’s only a slight chance The Blood God would rip out your eyes!” Tommy rather liked his eyes, actually, and did not take up the offer.

“I’m down,” Philza, incredibly amazing, salvation from boredom, hero of Tommy’s entire existence, said. Hallelujah. Tommy scrawled out another scoreboard on the floor. The dragon’s eyes were sorta catlike, a sea of gold split through by a thin obsidian slice. Philza grinned at him warmly, and Tommy schooled his expression. This was a very serious matter, after all. But the stoicism only seemed to amuse Philza further. Merriment danced in his reptilian eyes, and he flicked a flash of forked tongue at Tommy, whose visage cracked. He returned the gesture, immaturely blowing a raspberry. Philza’s tongue stretched out farther in response, well past his chin, wiggling in a way human's couldn’t. Tommy squinted, but refused to be distracted. Philza’s eyes were beginning to twitch, and he was pretty close to winning, Tommy was sure of it.

Right before Tommy was certain he’d fail, Philza flashed a triumphant smile. Tommy’s confusion was brief as the dragon suddenly swiped his tongue against his eyeballs. Tommy recoiled, screeching. “What the muffin! What the muffin was that!?”

Philza continued to lick his own eyes. “Whah ah you ta-king ‘bou?”

Tommy wanted to cry. “Awful! You are all awful! Why can none of you have normal eyes?? Philza you cheat! I hate you.” He began to count off different fingers. “You are disgusting. You are vile. Your hair-cut is ugly-”

“You love me.”

Tommy ticked that off on his fingers. “I love you out of pity. Cho drip is atrocious. Your scales make you look diseased. You don’t even know what a meme is.”

“This isn’t very pog-champ of you.” His pronunciation was exactly as stilted and hesitant as any adult who tried out slang was. Naturally, Tommy immediately took immense psychic damage from it.

“Please (and I mean this as kindly as possible) die.”

“Bro you can’t say that!” The Blade protested. “He’s ancient! Practically about to keel over in a stiff breeze. A baby could take him, and you want to risk even speaking the possibility out loud? What if the universe hears you and realize it forgot to kill Phil like billions and billions of years ago?”

Wilbur shoved him playfully. “Actually, Toms can suggest anything he likes as long as I’m first in the testament. I am, right? Because I’m your favorite and you got me first. Right Phil?” Wilbur asked, batting his eyelashes. “I’m going to inherit everything because you love me so much, riiiiight?”

“You are NOT getting all his stuff,” Tommy insisted.

“Of course I am, that’s why it’s called a WILL.” Everybody proceeded to not talk to him for the next hour, but that did little to curb Wilbur’s smirk.

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sushiwriterhere · 2 years ago

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there you are

summary: "It struck you that you wanted Bradley there, that you wanted him to walk into your shared ensuite and see how desperate you were to indulge his fantasy that this entire time, had also been yours." rating: explicit (18+ mdni) pairing: bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x f!reader word count: 6k (this got away from me) warnings: anal (Bradley Bradshaw is an ass man, protected), reader is tipsy/drunk and rooster is sober at one point (both consent!!), oral (f receiving), PiV (unprotected, wrap before you tap irl), nudes are sent, butt plugs, anal fingering, no use of y/n. notes: im very nervous to post this but hoping you all enjoy as much as the first one :,) this all is now its own series/universe, and i'm happy to take requests/asks about these two :) pls let me know what you think!!! my other works are here tagging: @sebsxphia @roosterbruiser @waklman @joaquinwhorres @gretagerwigsmuse - pls let me know if you'd like to be added/removed!

read coming home to you

You weren’t sure how to bring it up to him, but you knew that there were things Bradley was holding back from you. Not in a secretive sense, just in the way that you could tell there were things he wanted that he wasn’t sure how to express.

The way you and Bradley had come together made you believe that he would tell you eventually–he always did. He told you about his mom, about Goose, about the fear in his heart that he might’ve lost Mav too. He told you about how he secretly admired Hangman and that once, just once, they’d gotten absolutely piss drunk together and hashed shit out.

He leaned on you after long days of training and supported you after your hard days at work. It felt right with him.

But you could tell that he was holding back sometimes. To be specific, it was during sex.

Sometimes, when he had you bent over something and was about to press into you, he’d freeze momentarily. There would be a beat of silence, him just holding you open so that he could see everything from that angle, and you could tell he was thinking about pressing into your ass. He never went for it though, and the moment always broke.

To be honest, you hated the idea of and jokes about anal as a gift. All the stupid memes about birthday gifts and anniversary surprises—they made you feel oddly dirty, and not in a good way. Like your desires were to be held inside until they were for someone else’s pleasure. That you were a sexual object above all and things like that could not be desired out of your own will.

Bradley never made you feel like that. You’d had previous boyfriends and hook ups too self involved to focus on you, one even went so far as to try and claim you were lying about not finishing. But Bradley never did. Bradley always indulged you, always tried anything once unless he really didn’t want to, never made you feel like an object.

You’d known he was different from the start, but what had well and truly solidified it was a night a few months back. Bradley and the rest of the Dagger Crew were doing their usual Friday night at the Hard Deck, and you didn’t always tag along but that night you wanted to be surrounded by people, by friends. It had been a long week��trouble at work, a fight with your mom, and too little time spent with your boyfriend during waking hours.

White wine was your poison of choice that night, not really caring that the Hard Deck was an odd place to be drinking wine. Surrounded by fighter pilots and rowdy pool games, you leaned into Bradley, warmed from the inside by the wine and the outside by his body heat.

“Are you sure you want another glass?” Bradley was petting your waist gently as you pouted at him, knowing he was right to urge caution but wanting to indulge.

You nodded in a way that was probably a smidge too enthusiastic for his taste. Never a big drinker, you let yourself have a bit of fun on nights like these. Besides, Bradley was staying sober to drive and you suspected he sort of liked you all giggly and needy.

By the time the night was ending, you were exactly that. He, Phoenix, Bob, and Payback were wrapping up a particularly close game of pool when you felt the sudden need to be with your boyfriend, alone. Never wanting to interrupt his time with friends, you simply let yourself make moon eyes at him. As if he had read your mind, Bradley sank the last ball and announced that you two were heading home for the night.

“Get her home safe, Rooster.” Phoenix was so lovely, it almost made you start crying. Man you really had had too much wine.

You waved enthusiastically as Bradley guided you out of the bar, making sure you were leaning on him, “See you guys later!”

He made sure you were safely buckled before turning on the Bronco, “C’mon little lady, let’s get you home.”

As you drove back to your place, you couldn’t sit still in the passenger seat. First you were content to just look at him, giddy at the fact that you were finally living together and watching as the streetlights shadowed one part of his face and made the other part glow with that hazy orange color. Then, just sitting wasn’t enough. Scootching as close to the center console as your seatbelt would let you, you leaned on your hand to stare at Bradley.

“Got somethin’ on my face?” He asked, shifting in his seat. “You’ve got a dopey look on your mug.”

You knew he was kidding, but you were wine drunk and simply overwhelmed by how much you loved him. You let your lip turn down just a bit, knowing it would get to him. When he saw the frown threatening to crack your love sick expression, he backpedaled immediately.

“Kidding, kidding, babe. I look at you like that all the time.”

Giggling in response, you clutched his bicep gently, “I know,” You whispered conspiratorially, “Bob told me the other day he had to say your name five times to get your attention because you were staring at a picture of me on your phone.”

At that, Bradley flushed lightly. But by that point you had pulled into the driveway and you were ready to just be close to him. Before he managed to get you, you were out of the car and walking yourself to the front door.

He barely caught you around the waist before pulling you to his chest in front of the still locked front door. There was something magical in that moment, just feeling how close he was to you, how warm he was, with the ocean and evening bugs as distant background noise.

“Let’s get you inside, okay?”

When you finally made it inside, you let yourself be overtaken by just how much you wanted Bradley. You made grabby hands at him so he would kiss you and he granted you one briefly before kneeling in the entryway to take your shoes off. He always was a romantic at heart. Standing to his full height, he took your face in his hands to kiss you gently.

Normally you were content to let him press his lips to yours for however long he wanted, but tonight you wanted him, wanted him to let you float as he made you feel good. He didn’t seem at all phased by how needy you were, simply scooping you up in his arms and carrying you to the bedroom.

You landed on the bed with a slight oof, and you watched in tipsy arousal as Bradley stripped himself of his Hawaiian button down and the thin white t-shirt he always wore under. He was a sight to behold, as always. Rather than the neatly cut figure of a body builder, Bradley simply looked strong. The kind of strong that carried you when you’d had too much to drink, the kind that built decks and fixed sinks.

He leaned over you and brushed your lips together before flipping you over so that you were bent over the edge of the bed. At that angle, you were basically just free hanging, the tips of your toes brushing the floor. It felt nice, honestly, to be at Bradley’s mercy.

The trust was implicit, you knew he’d take care of you.

He seemed to agree, brushing his fingers down your spine in a way that made you shudder, and kissing down the backs of your thighs and whispering, “I’m gonna take care of you.”

The drag of your panties down your legs seemed to last forever as you panted into the sheets and waited, impatient, for him to finally give you what you wanted. When he finally licked into you, you jerked forward with a strangled moan at the sensation of his tongue flat against your core.

It was electric every time Bradley ate you out. His frat boy aura was deceiving–Bradley was the first man to make you finish every time you were intimate, even if he didn’t. He prioritized your pleasure in a way that somehow felt both dirty and almost feminist.

This time was no different. He went down on you like a man starved, drinking down your arousal and the sounds that left your lips like they were the last meal he’d ever have. The way his tongue circled your clit and eventually covered it so he could suck it into his mouth made your eyes roll back in your head.

You chanted his name as if it was the only word you knew and rocked your hips back into his face. He only encouraged it, his hands coming to rest around the curves of your ass and arching your back just right so he could access all of you with ease.

The wine was still making you feel loose limbed, all your nerve endings singing with pleasure as your dress, that you realized you hadn’t taken off, created a delicious friction between your nipples and the sheets. The room was filled with your panting and whining intermixed with the sounds of Bradley eating you out. It was making your head spin.

Your orgasm hit you in a way that stole all the breath from your lungs. It was all you could do to clutch desperately to the sheets in your fists and move your hips against Bradley’s face as he kept up the way his tongue was moving over your clit. You were half aware of the tears sneaking out of the corners of your eyes from how overwhelmed with pleasure you were.

When you finally came down, for a moment, all you could hear was your own panting as Bradley sat silently behind your spread legs. His thumb dipped into you, collecting your arousal, before moving up, up, up towards your ass. You froze not unlike when one sees a wild animal and tries to not disturb it, body still thrumming with arousal despite your orgasm not even seconds before, just as he reached your other hole. He took your momentary stillness as rejection and clearly changed his mind, and moved it back to where your cum was making a mess of your pussy and the insides of your thighs.

You wanted to whine, to protest even, but it struck you how careful Bradley was. Not that you weren’t a (more than) enthusiastic participant, but he wouldn’t try something new without your vocal and open consent.

So you let him manhandle you gently face up on to the bed, let him pull your sundress off and laugh quietly at you as you covered your chest with a whine when you felt the sudden shock of the cold temperature in the room. Fully stripping, Bradley pressed you into the mattress, covering your body with his so you could feel just how warm he was.

“How are you feeling, babe?” He pulled back to peck you on the nose, a startlingly sweet contrast to the way you could feel just how hard he was against you.

You squirmed happily against the weight of his body, and decided to answer his question a different way, “Want you to fuck me, Bradley.”

The smile that spread over his handsome features made you feel like that first moment when you’d seen him at the Hard Deck, all charm and bravado as he serenaded the room. But even still, it was a look that he saved only for you, so genuine and open. You’d never tell him for fear he might stop, but it made his eyes crinkle slightly unevenly and it endeared you to him even more.

“I can do that,” He breathed against your lips as he tucked one hand around your hips so he could gently turn you over and tuck a pillow under your hips, “Are you okay like this?”

Normally, when more sober, you might’ve had it in you to complain about having to clean the pillow from the mess you’d inevitably make. But in that moment, it made something curl in your chest, the way he could have you basically face-down-ass-up and still be checking in, still making sure you were okay and comfortable. So in response, you simply wiggled your hips at him and whined a bit.

He gave your ass a playful smack which you attempted to return by swatting behind you aimlessly. The tone turned from lighthearted to downright heady when he got a hold of your wrist and used it as leverage to lay his body down against yours. You could feel his cock sliding between your legs, but just not into you, in the most intoxicating way.

“I’ve been thinking about this since we left for the Hard Deck tonight,” He breathed into your ear, “God, you’re always so wet for me.”

When he finally slid into you, the angle made you feel like you could feel him in your chest. Bradley wasn’t breaking any world records (and you really didn’t need him to), but he always felt like he was made just for you. His thickness stretched your walls enough for the burn to fade into pleasure, and his tip always brushed right up against the spot inside you that made you want to wail.

As he rocked into you, you let yourself float, consumed by the physical sensations that were overwhelming you. Bradley was still holding one of your hands, the other wrapped around your waist to press into your abdomen. His chest was plastered to your back, a slightly slick feeling of sweat between you as he rocked his hips into you. And god, every time his hips met yours he rubbed up against that spot inside you and you could feel yourself clench around him.

His pants and moans were all you could hear and you occasionally turned your neck to kiss him messily. It wasn’t about the kiss necessarily, more about needing to feel his lips against yours, no matter how sloppy.

Unlike your first orgasm, when Bradley had seemed almost desperate to push you over the edge with his tongue and fingers, this one crept up on you with the gentle rocking of his hips. It washed over you and you could distantly hear him cursing under his breath as his thrusts became stunted, him chasing his high. When he came, you relished in the feeling of his warmth filling you, and the way he didn’t stop moving his hips, the stunted motions sending waves of slightly overstimulating pleasure radiating through your body.

Pulling out of you, he untangled your limbs so he could make his way to the bathroom and grab something to clean you up with. You let yourself lay there and feel boneless–content, and taken care of.

After the night that Bradley rimmed you, you figured you’d be the one to take the next step. So that was how you found yourself when he was away at work, scrolling through reviews for the best butt plugs and lube instead of working from home. There was a part of you that thought you should be mortified, that part of you that had gone through abstinence only sex education.

The other part of you just couldn’t bring yourself to care. There was a point early on in your relationship with Bradley where you’d discussed your upbringing–not sexually liberated but not exactly quite open about it either. He had revealed that Carole had done her best but sex talks weren’t all that common between the two of them.

Either way, both of you had settled on talking it out. But you wanted to make this step, wanted to make him comfortable after he had clearly been holding out on you.

You had to be slightly sneaky about the online order, and you almost felt bad throughout the next few days about checking through the blinds constantly when the package was supposed to be delivered just to make sure he hadn’t seen. When it did arrive, in a nondescript box with just your mailing address and a random P.O. box return address, you felt relieved.

Despite your agreement, you wanted to figure this first part out for yourself.

You went into the bathroom, stripping and turning on the shower before locating the bottle of lube you had bought back in your bedroom. You removed the plug from where you had stuffed it at the bottom of your underwear drawer, still in its packaging. Unwrapping it, you took it and the lube into the bathroom.

Once the water was hot enough, you stepped under the spray. It relaxed you and you could feel the arousal thrumming through your system. It hadn’t really occurred to you just how badly you wanted to try this until you were right on the precipice of it.

When you were sure you were clean, you squeezed a dollop of lube onto your middle finger and decided to just go for it. The initial push was slightly odd, but you wanted to keep going. It wasn't as good as Bradley’s mouth, that was for sure.

By the time you had worked two fingers into yourself, you had one arm pressed against the wall of the shower for support, and were panting. The sound of you working your fingers into your ass was just barely audible over the water, and it made your chest tighten. Moving your thumb down, you could feel just how aroused you were.

You had never felt so full in your life, and you couldn’t stop the gasps and moans that were leaving your mouth. It struck you that you wanted Bradley there, that you wanted him to walk into your shared ensuite and see how desperate you were to indulge his fantasy that this entire time, had also been yours.

It took everything left in you to slowly slide to your knees, not slip, and maintain one arm on the wall of the shower. The feelings washing over you were so intense it was close to how Bradley rimming you had felt, but stronger. When you came, the groan that escaped you was unbidden.

You kneeled there, trembling from the intensity of your orgasm, grateful for the still running water washing away the mess you had made. But, you knew it wasn’t over yet, as you eyed the plug. It seemed to taunt you to keep going. So you did.

The feeling was odd when you stood, after having worked it into you. You shakily turned off the shower and tried to catch your breath. After tapping your phone, you realized you had around half an hour before Bradley came home and the two of you were supposed to meet up with the rest of the Dagger Squad at the Hard Deck.

Slowly, a half formed idea came into your head. You didn’t usually send Bradley scandalous pictures of yourself, just because of troubles with past boyfriends, but when you did he was like a little kid on Christmas Day (you preferred FaceTime if you could when he was away for long periods). This honestly felt as good a time as any to do something like that. But you also didn’t want to miss out on seeing everyone.

So, you pulled on Bradley’s favorite thong (he never really said it was his favorite, but the excited puppy-dog eyes he gave you whenever you wore it said differently). You could feel the heat rush to your face and flush your chest and neck as you tucked your feet under you and tried to get a good picture that would show just enough to let him know what was going on. It was made worse by the fact that every time you shifted, you were reminded of the plug.

Part of you wondered if you should really be doing this, as you changed into a sundress and tried to maintain composure as you heard the Bronco pull into the driveway. Bradley knew you well, far too well, and he would be able to sus out that something wasn’t like it always was, probably immediately. The thought made you stiffen a bit, but you were in too deep now to back out.

Plus, more than anything, this wasn’t only about him. This was about you. At some point in dating Bradley you had pretty much let go of all the hangups people had tried to teach you in your life, and had just started doing what felt good and what you wanted. Bradley pretty much always responded positively, so why turn back now.

“Babe, I’m home!” Noisy as ever, you could hear him kicking his boots off and the zipper on his flight suit coming down.

Belatedly, you realized you had never put the lube away and you dashed into the bathroom to try and hide it. You were borderline frantic until you managed to stuff it at the bottom of a basket of period products. To be honest, he wouldn’t really care, and he might even ask why you hadn’t told him you wanted it earlier, but you didn’t want the moment to end to soon.

Anticipation was half the fun.

“Babe?” Bradley walked into the bathroom and found you, slightly flushed, slamming a drawer shut.

“Hey, sorry, was in the middle of something.” You tried to relax, and you smiled softly at him, “How was your day?”

He walked over to you and hugged you tightly, still smelling of fuel and sweat, “Good. I’m ready for a cold beer though.”

Ever trying to play normal, you swatted at his chest, “What about hanging out with your lovely girlfriend?”

“Well that,” He wiggled his eyebrows at you before pulling away and starting to undress, “Is a given.”

You left him to shower and get ready but not before wincing slightly when he tapped you gently on the ass. It was barely even a swat, mostly just a movement of habit, and you could see the way his brows furrowed slightly. You could tell he thought about asking, but you told him to get ready before he could act on it.

Honestly, you didn’t wince because it hurt, you did that because it was just so much. Bradley standing so close to you, smelling like fuel and sweat yes, but underneath that something so him and masculine that it made your head spin. He was taller and broader than you and it made you feel weak in the knees. All that in combination with the plug still sitting snug in you made you realize just how wet you were between your thighs.

You knew you were acting slightly weird, and that Bradley had noticed. How could he not? The man seemed to know things about you before you did. But you kept sending him small smiles from where you were standing next to Bob (refusing to sit), and shooting the shit about something stupid Hangman had done earlier that day during training.

Thankfully, the Hard Deck was also incredibly busy, as it always was on a Friday night. There were people everywhere, and the atmosphere was electric. It was enough to at least keep some of Bradley’s attention off you.

Even still, you could feel his attention on you at all times. When someone brushed in front of you and gently nudged you into the chair behind you, he watched as your eyes flew wide open. What he didn’t know was the sensation of the plug jostling inside of you was what made you bite your lip til almost blood to try and hold back a moan.

Bob cast a glance your way, offering his cup of peanuts, “Y’okay? Seem uncomfortable. We can move outside.”

You managed a smile in his direction, “N-No, Bob, that’s okay, thank you though. I think I’m actually going to go to the bathroom.”

While you were making your way to the bathroom, you could feel Bradley’s eyes on you, ever observant. You did your best to avoid the bodies thrumming with energy as they packed tightly together, swaying gently with whatever was playing on the jukebox. The air was heavy and you could hear the ringing of laughter and clinking of glass.

When you finally got into the women’s bathroom, it felt a thousand degrees colder and you sucked in a desperate gasp of air. You didn’t know how much longer you could do this. Every breath you took reminded you of just how full you felt, how long you had been aroused, with your panties sticking to you in the heat.

It was then that you remembered the photo you had taken earlier, and another flare of arousal ran through you. You were white knuckle gripping the edge of the sink and trying to take steady breaths. God, you wanted Bradley so badly.

You decided to throw all caution to the wind and opened your phone. Pressing send before you could change your mind, you made sure to send a simple text beforehand, For your eyes only :).

You knew that as soon as Bradley saw the text, he’d want to leave, so you gave yourself a few seconds more relishing the atmosphere of the Hard Deck outside the bathroom doors.

Except, when you got back to the pool table, Bradley seemed unphased. You could see his phone peeking out of his back pocket as he stretched long and lean across the table. Settling back in next to Bob, he threw a charmed smile at you.

“Feeling okay now?” God, you could always count on Bob to be a sweetheart.

“Yeah, thanks Bob.” You could still feel the way your sweat was beading on your lower back.

Bradley shot a look in your direction as they finished the game up with Phoenix making the winning move, and he pulled his phone out. You froze in place as you watched him flick his thumb up to look at the notifications that had been piling up all evening. The way the blood rushed to his face, rising to the tops of his cheeks from where you knew it started on his chest.

He cleared his throat once, then once again. He then shifted slightly, before setting his cue stick against the wall.

“We’re uh, we’re gonna head home.” Bradley said, not particularly trying to reach above the noise.

“Quitting on us so soon, Rooster?” Hangman flashed a shit-eating grin, “Chickening out?”

“Got more important things to do than watch you chase tail, Bagman.” Bradley seemed to have regained his composure, and he took you by the hand.

You waved just a little before letting Bradley drag you out of the bar. He was almost entirely silent while he opened the door and helped you into the Bronco. Just like on the way to the Hard Deck, you did your best to hide the way sitting for the ride home made you feel.

When you pulled into the parking lot, you couldn’t handle the silence anymore, “Did you–Did you like the picture?”

Bradley turned the car off, and turned to face you, the look on his face half tortured half aroused, “You’re going to kill me one day if you keep doing stuff like that.”

“So, no?” You suddenly felt shy with his eyes directly on you.

“Babe...” And then he was climbing out, and helping you out only to press you up against the still warm door, “It took everything in me not to lean you over that pool table. When did you take that?”

You swallowed hard, trying not to squirm too hard in his hold, “When I tell you, you won’t want to be outside where the neighbors can see.”

He pulled back as if burned, then pulled you towards the house. Getting in was a rush of keys and him trying to keep his hands off you. When you finally stumbled through the door he was on you in an instant, all grabby hands and lips on your neck.

“Will you answer me now?” His knee was between your thighs, holding you up against the door.

All that you could manage was a high keening noise, swallowing hard. You felt like you were going to explode if you didn’t get him in you that second.

“I didn’t hear a response, baby.” Bradley now had you in his arms and was walking you both to the bedroom, palming your ass.

You shivered, thinking about what his reaction would be, “Before you came home. Was hiding the lube when you walked in the door.”

The groan you received in response was enough to light your bones on fire, and he set you down on the bed face down and lifted your hips slightly. The sundress you were wearing wasn’t terribly short by any means, but when bent over like that it wasn’t hiding much.

He was panting like he had just run a marathon as he pushed the hem of your dress over your hips, “Jesus Christ, baby. Did you do this for me? You didn’t have to, I–”

Before he could continue, before he could try and take some sort of faux-responsibility for pressuring you somehow, you cut him off, “Did this for me; want you, Bradley. Want you to fuck me in the ass, please. Don’t even want you to go down on me or anything just, please.”

“Where is the lube?” His voice was strained, the grip on the back of your thighs like iron.

“Left lower drawer in the bathroom, under all my stuff.”

Bradley was off you in an instant, stripping as he went into the bathroom to search for the hidden bottle. Meanwhile, you pulled off your sundress, but left your thong on, something in your gut telling you he would want to be the one to take that off.

When he returned, you were kneeling on the bed, blinking at him expectantly. He was almost open mouth gawking at you, and he kneeled too, just below eye level.

“I want to make sure this is,” He swallowed harshly, interrupting himself, “I never want to make you feel like you have to do something like this for me.”

“Bradley, baby,” You stroked a hand gently down his cheek, “You have never made me feel anything but wanted, cherished, and loved. I did this because I wanted to, because I want you.”

Taking his face fully in your hands, you pressed your lips to his before he pulled back to say hoarsely, “I love you so goddamn much.”

“I love you too. Now would you please fuck me.”

At that, he laughed quietly until he stopped when you started tugging at the briefs hugging his hips, leaning forward to mouth at his hardening cock, “Baby, please, I–I won’t last if you do that.”

Wordlessly, you turned over to signal your agreement, and you heard him shift behind you to push a pillow under your hips and thumb at the waistband of your thong. Scooping your hips up, he dragged it down your legs and sucked in a harsh breath at the sight of you.

You whined when he used his hands to spread your cheeks and thumb at the plug still firmly nestled in you. A broken groan left you when he twisted it slightly and you could hear him muttering profanity under his breath–something about going to hell being well worth it.

When he pulled the plug out, you felt empty until one lube slicked finger entered you. You hissed at the coolness of it, and Bradley pressed a kiss into your thigh in apology. Then one finger turned into two, then three. The entire time, you were getting more and more worked up, rocking back against his fingers and letting little cries leave you.

“More, Bradley, more, please.”

He shushed you, “I know, sweetheart, I know, you gotta let me get you ready.”

“I’m ready, baby please.” You had been waiting long enough.

You heard the ripping of the foil of a condom and then his cock was right up against you. Bradley had one hand steadying himself on your waist, the other guiding his blunt head into you. When he finally pressed into you, it made your head swim with how full you felt. His breath was ragged behind you and his length seemed to never end.

Pitiful whines escaped you as he rocked into you, and you could feel the excess lube dripping down your thighs and onto the bed below you. The moment his hips pressed flush to yours, you let a moan unlike anything else escape you.

“Fuck, baby, I’m not going to last long, you’re so fucking tight.”

The hand that was holding your hip reached down to stroke over your clit and you bucked your hips up and clenched around him. When he started thrusting, you could tell neither of you were going to last long at all.

It was an almost out of body experience as Bradley rocked his cock into your ass and leaned over to press his body flush against yours. His lips were brushing the shell of your ear, chanting about how tight you were, how good you were to him, how much he loved you–and it was all too much.

You had never felt so full, it was almost hard to breathe. You had imagined this with him, so many times, but that could never hold a candle to the real thing. The way your fingers had felt sliding in and out of you paled in comparison to his cock, pressing into you just right.

You came when he reached under your chest to play with your nipples and you bucked wildly under him, feeling like something was exploding in your sternum. For a moment, everything whited out and all you could feel was how heavy Bradley was in your ass, how hot his body was pressed up against you, and just how wet you were.

He came soon after with a groan, his hips stuttering into yours, finger still rubbing your clit in a steady rhythm in a way that made your head spin.

The two of you lay there, Bradley ever so slightly holding his weight off of you with one elbow, just panting and taking in what had happened. He pulled out and you hissed, pressing your face into the mattress and letting the sheets absorb the sweat that had built up on your hairline.

He pet your lower back softly, “You doing okay?”

You turned to him with a wicked smile, “We better have some of that lube left, Bradley Bradshaw.”

The reaction on his face was priceless, “You cannot just say shit like that to me, give me a goddamn minute.”

You giggled just a bit but let yourself sink into the mattress, his signal to get up and start cleaning up. He stood with a groan, and pulled the condom off, the snapping sound echoing slightly around the bedroom. You could feel lube and arousal still leaking down your thighs, but you ignored it in favor of turning onto your side and watching Bradley shuffle around the bathroom.

“Hey baby,” He murmured when he came back, kneeling down to clean up between your legs, “How is the best girlfriend in the world doing?”

You wiggled your hips happily, “Good. How’s the best boyfriend in the world doing?”

“I’ll be sure to ask when I meet him.” He laughed quietly under his breath, and you smiled gently at him.

Reaching up to pet his face, you smoothed your thumb over his cheekbone, “You know I love you right? More than anything in the world.”

“I love you too.”

With that, he helped you stand to go to the bathroom. Once in there, you two shuffled through your nighttime routine, playfully jostling each other and him eventually tucking you into his side so he could kiss the top of your head.

Climbing under clean sheets (Bradley had insisted before letting you get back into bed, claiming that they were far too gross), felt like sliding into heaven. With Bradley there next to you, you felt safe and loved, and you were sure you never wanted to be anywhere else.

#top gun: maverick #top gun: maverick fic #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x you #no use of y/n #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster x reader #top gun: maverick fanfiction #coming home to you universe

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poessiblyfedya · 1 month ago

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welcome to anastasia's 2024 mutual appreciation !

it's this time of year where i love to appreciate the hell out of my mutual babes n' sweethearts ! if you are not here , i do these yearly so . . maybe next year ?

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ heia | @heiayen

“just write im cool and pretty and thats it ill be happy” — heia 25/11/24

yeah. so about that? you knew i wouldn't do that. i mean i kinda did! anyways, hi heia! my little dove, my wife, baby, darling, angel, woah... we've mentioned it a lot recently but how have we only known each other just over a year? it feels way longer. i can't even begin to find the words to express how much you appreciate to me, there's physically not enough words between the three languages we speak together.

zakochałam się w tobie. je t’aimerai jusqu’à mon dernier souffle.

this stupid friendship started with you hiding in my inbox sending me raccoon memes and our weird psychic ability to respond to each other at the same time (this has not changed, huh) and now look! you were super brave and came to my dms. and i've not let you leave. bonus: you're not allowed to leave. i love you! you've dealt with me daily for so long now that i genuinely do not know what i'd do without you! you are cemented down as such a significant part of my life and i truly wish i could babble on and on about how much you mean to me.

from haikyuu brainrot (i love you and your stupid middle blockers) to doublechecking my polish with you to sending tiktoks and reels to looking for your initials and that one time i threatened to invade poland. all the times you've done the math to see if you'll be awake when i'm out from the cinema, all the ootds you've given me before class and the train and taking me to the kitchen with you. god knew we'd be too powerful together (read: ana would be too clingy) so he had to separate us.

thank you for literally everything this year. you've listened to so much of my crap and you're still by my side. i can't wait to spend another year with you!!

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ isa | @stopisa

it's isa's turn to receive my endless love and affection! where to start... we talk daily now, huh? it's actually really crazy to think we only met this year - and that we're the same age, shhh, you always seem so much older than me. you've made such a big impact on my life in such a short amount of time and i'd like to thank you personally for every single moment of every single day that you've dealt with me!

you're my personal ushi, dabi & choso girlie and i just know they love you soooo much in their individual ways (staring at you, touya...) and you know what, i love you so much and the content i get of your selfships! i know you wasn't very confident with them and i'm so proud of how much i get to talk to you about them. i love all your sillies and you!! so so so much !! you're never getting rid of me even if you are EVIL (please never get rid of me)

and on top of that, thank you so much for everything you do for me. you've been so supportive of everything, the network, my selfships, my art... you are such an important person in my life. you listen to everything and you don't judge and that's crazy. i love you. woah. i'm really struggling to put my feelings for how much i appreciate you into words right now. i'm gonna blabber in your dms later instead. happy new year, let's see how many thots i can send you in 2025!!!

oh and thank you for lowkey being the reason i put my septum jewellery back in!!

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ raine | @lyraea

elmo stares at you from across the room. hello there. fancy seeing you here... 2024 ~~and 2023~~ was not our year but... shhh.. you're here again. it's actually unbelievable how long we've known each other now. every day i seem to think back on how we met; you really were one of my anons, huh... i may have long abandoned that blog and moved away from writing kpop fanfictions but i took you with me - and according to our god awful habits, you're stuck with me.

no matter what happens, you're on my mind and all the amazing moments we've had together. the numerous stardew farms (oh look, my favourite harvey-coffee-feeder), having to teach you how to play overwatch on a switch (how did you manage), the various photos we took of kinich and mualani going idle, fucking around as saurians, being a damn magpie in your world- god, even the matching profile pictures.

things may have been rocky and hopefully they smooth you but you'll always be my yae miko. oh and let's not forget how much i loooove the kitties! nova, my sweet queen, i will continue to worship you throughout 2025. you, you silly goose, will always be cherished so dear and close to my heart, no matter where things go. even when you're not here, you're on my mind and i think that says a lot (that you need to stop haunting me, hello????)

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ miya | @kokonoiis

is that.. my baby? my sweet baby? oh my god. it is! we do not talk nowhere near as much as i'd like to, as for a lot of the following mutuals on this post as compared to the first three but i hope in 2025 we can! you've seen me experience some emotions... and we've bullied takemichi together (oh my god, he's a wet wipe) and i've had the joy of witnessing you start l&ds!! hello there, little zayne girlie, do i need to write a few doctor pieces? me thinks soooo..

you're yet again another angel that i only met this year. you're so prominent to me like hello? i'm in your discord about me? sobbing?? such a pretty baby... notices me... drops dead!! you deserve the world, you are so unbelievably sweet to anyone and everyone and i really don't think i've seen you angry? chat we have to protect this one at all costs.

next year, i'll be haunting your dms constantly, inescapable. good luck, soldier, kazuana is coming for you!

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ ying | @mlkbwunnies

hello sweet little miss ying!! it's hard to write for someone i'm slightly intimidated of, i don't think i'll ever truly get past being intimidated by you. maybe it's just how amazing and adorable you are! you truly are a light in every community you step foot in and i'd personally like to take the time to appreciate everything you do for the tumblr community. you're always so inclusive of everyone, spreading warmth and joy even if i'm too scared and nervous to actually participate in things.

my goal for 2024 was actually to talk to you more but i've been severely lacking on interaction with everyone as a whole so i already failed the resolution - i really hope that next year is different because i cherish every moment i get to spend with you, you're just so.... loving and positive?! it's contagious how much your love just... spreads! it's actually pretty crazy that the thing that brought us a tad closer was some anon accusing me of copying your network. that was a wild ride...

i hope that 2025 is kinder to you and that you stop getting spun around in the washing machine of life because if anyone deserves recognition and soft love from their mere existence, it's you!

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ winter | @vxnusorbit

winnie!! my little winnie!! my sweet winnie!! my little sister!! that's you?! that's craaaazy!!! a little birdy told me that 2024 wasn't exactly kind to you, just another angel who got spun in the washing machine... sadge. i really, really hope that 2025 is kinder to you so that we get a break from angst, you're putting the genshin characters through hell in my retirement from writing...

we don't talk as much as we used to but we've known each other for over a year now too! you've always been so supportive of anything and everything i do and your genshin signature still makes me giggle every time i'm in my friends list (truly.. what a poet she is...) even if you are a littleee bit of a demon - i literally do not know this lyney you speak of...

see you next year, darling! unfortunately, regardless of how little we may get to speak now, you are inevitably stuck with me. crazy! one day, we're gonna gossip in french and have croissants and truly admire how stupid parisians are. mwah!

finally, our participation award... here is a pat on the back and a cookie. i'd love to fill this with paragraphs humiliating you all publicly so come be freaky in dms with me so i can see the downfall of your dignity /j (read: here's a taglist of everyone i have been thankful for knowing in this past year, who i wish the best for come this new year. hopefully next year comes with more chances to communicate with one another!)

@qichun @tetsuskei @reonaissance @fictionfordays @inazuman @prime-adeptus + noir & the entirety of the seabreeze street network for their darling support and questionable conversations.

#not proofread for the time being please.. look away from my incoherency #i love you all regardless; now i disappear for the reminder of the night <3

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