#in dai. in fact they look like theyre planning to lean into it more. so! idc abt da4 im just gonna play in the sandpit with the blocks that

[v-arbellanaris]

da4 doesnt matter to me because as far as im concerned everything is au after da2. sorry everyone

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about Wade's life and his mental health issues a lot, and I just thought about this. Not only being abused, but his entire brain being made out of cancer, and the fact that oxygen was physically taken from his brain over the course of 2+ days multiple times?

We see him coloring a lot and claim multiple times that he doesn't/ can't read (this is probably a bit, I guarantee he can read), but it had me thinking what if some days were more childish then others as part of his coping mechanisms?

At first, Logans was really confused about why Althea puts up with it until he realizes that it's extremely good for him to just... be taken care of? Praised and given affection for the bare minimum? He thinks it's weird. This wasn't the same man he was fighting with yesterday.

Coming into the living room, he sees Wade sprawled out with crayons and markers all around him with multiple pictures already coloured, his notebook having pages ripped out of it as he kicks his feet and hums.

On the tv, there are cartoons playing. Once in a while, he'll look up at the tv and then go back to coloring. "What are you doing??"

"Hi wolvie. 'm colouring."

"He's behaving, so don't ruin it." Al says. There's pictures by her, and she is holding a box of cereal.

"O..kay??" Sitting down, he's almost too curious to just walk away, picking up puppins so she doesn't ruin his drawings, petting her confusedly.

Sometimes, Al will hold out some cereal in her hand. "Wade." And he will see him shimmy over and take the cereal. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, baby."

As hes scooting back to his color spot he stops and watches the tv for a bit longer then usual.

"...What.. the fuck." Logan says to her and she gives him a brow raise. "What?"

"What is he doing?"

"He's coloring. And I thought I was the blind one."

"No no I mean.. those aren't murder plans. That's puppins."

"Yes? And?"

"And.. what did you do to him?"

"Treated him like a human being. Give it a try once inawhile." She says, and he comes back with more pictures, climbing in between them with no regard for space as he leans into her.

"Oh thank you. What is it?"

"It's you."

"Oh? How sweet. Do I look good?"

"Mhm!"

"Im glad. How about you show our friend here your amazing pictures. And he better be nice!"

So wade turns and now is leaning on logan as he points to a different picture. One of Logan with Puppins on a leash with a sun in the corner and crappy grass, a hearts all over the place.

At first he wants to tell him to get off of him, but seeing the pictures and how excited his eyes were to show him, it hits him and he understands.

".. uhm.. thank you?" But he puts it back in his hand. "Oh- you want me to keep it?"

Wade nods and starts cleaning up his crayons.

Logan turns to whisper to Al "How long does this go on?"

"About 2 hours or so."

"Why?"

"God only knows, but it helps with his nightmares."

"Colouring helps with his nightmares??"

"Its more then that. Hey sweetheart? Why don't you bring your ponys out."

"Theyre horses."

"Oh im sorry, my mistake. I think logan here wants to play horses."

Logan gives her a look like excuse me? When did I sign up for that? "No.. uhm.. I think im good."

Wade gets this look of sad innocence but goes to get them anyway, beginning to play by himself, brushing them and making them talk to each other quietly. As if he speaks any louder, he would get hit.

Logan groans and is like "Gimme a fucking horse.."

From then on, Logan is quick to understand what's happening and is much nicer to him, starts giving him snacks, buying him actual coloring books, and has pinned his drawings to the fridge each time he's gifted one. His horses name is Buttercup, by the way.

[1425fivefive]

27 and 11 for the prompts? you can do them separately or in one fic it’s fine :) THEYRE SO CUTEEE and i love ur writing style !! lestappen pls :)

This one's a bit longer and slightly nsfw. Inspired by "Everything is Romantic" by Charli xcx.

27. kiss on a place of insecurity & 11. kiss in secrecy

The villa is beautiful, all exposed brick and wooden beams, crumbling statues scattered across the grounds.

Max is lying on the edge of the pool, half-asleep as he listens to Charles chat with the cook about dinner plans. Or at least, that’s what Max thinks they’re talking about. They’re speaking Italian, Charles’s low, melodic voice washing over Max, so soothing Max thinks he could fall asleep right here, the hot Italian sun on his face and one leg dangling in the cool water of the pool.

But a shadow falls across Max’s face and he blinks his eyes open to discover Charles leaning over him, a soft smile on his face.

“Tired?” Charles asks.

Max hums, returning Charles’s smile. “A bit, yes.”

“You could nap, if you would like,” Charles says softly. “But my family is out, and I was thinking maybe we could—” Charles trails off, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Max has suddenly never felt more awake in his life.

They’ve come to the Amalfi Coast with Charles’s mother and brothers for the summer break, Max’s first time taking an extended vacation with Charles’s family. And while it’s been lovely, Max has felt far too self-conscious about being overheard by Pascale to have sex with Charles. It’s been almost two weeks since they’ve done anything, the longest they’ve gone since they started dating.

At times, Max feels like he’s being tortured. Waking up to Charles lying on his stomach, head pillowed on his hands, gorgeous tan skin and rippling back muscles on full display. Max wants nothing more than to trail a line of kisses down Charles’s back, enjoy slow, tender mornings with the view of Capri through the window.

Instead, Max rolls out of bed and takes a cold shower, trying to remind himself that he wants Charles’s family to like him, which definitely won’t happen if they overhear him moaning or whatever other horrible noises he makes during sex with Charles. No, he’s afraid he’d never be able to show his face around the Leclerc family again.

But now they’re gone and Max is scrambling to his feet, tugging Charles in for a bruising kiss.

Charles pulls back after a moment, laughing breathlessly. “If you still want to nap—”

“Charles,” Max whines.

Charles giggles. “Yes, okay, I think we can skip the nap.”

Max drags Charles to their bedroom, pausing to kiss Charles every few steps. Charles lets him, sighing into the kisses and wrapping his arms around Max’s neck, tugging him closer. At one point, Max thinks they might not make it to the bedroom, thinks he might have to get on his knees for Charles right here in the open, too desperate to make it even a few more steps.

But they make it in the end, Charles yanking Max down the hall and shoving him back onto their bed.

“Beautiful,” Charles breathes when he has Max naked and spread out, trembling beneath him.

“I’m not the beautiful one here,” Max says, laughing softly. He doesn’t mean it to be self-deprecating, just means it as a fact—Charles is beautiful. Max is many things, but he’s not that.

Charles makes a wounded noise. “You are.”

Max laughs again, tugging Charles in for a soft kiss. “I’m not. I don’t have an eight-pack, or whatever you have these days. I’ve been eating so much gelato”

“I don’t have an eight-pack,” Charles scoffs. “And I love your body like this, Max. Love when you are soft and happy, getting to enjoy gelato whenever you want.”

Max flushes at the praise. “Thank god you’re not my trainer,” he jokes. 

He’s trying to deflect, trying not to look head on at the adoration in Charles’s eyes. It’s too much, sometimes. Makes Max feel flayed open and tender, like an oyster pried out of its shell, vulnerable and soft.

“I love you like this,” Charles repeats, eyes dark as they rove over Max’s body. Charles leans forward pressing a kiss to Max’s chest. “Love how soft this is, how comfortable it is when I rest my head here.” He keeps pressing kisses down Max’s body, lips skating toward Max’s stomach.

Max has never liked his stomach. It’s never looked like any of the other driver’s, not even a hint of abs. He knows he’s in shape, obviously, but he worries sometimes that he doesn’t look like an athlete. That people look at him and think he’s lazy, that he doesn’t work hard enough.

When Charles licks over Max’s stomach, Max thinks briefly about pulling away. Tugging Charles up for a kiss or fishing lube out of the nightstand. Anything to get Charles to stop paying such close attention to the tender bits of Max.

But Max stays where he is, fingers digging into the sheets as Charles presses an open-mouthed kiss to Max’s stomach.

“Love this, baby,” Charles breathes, bringing a hand up to squeeze gently at Max’s stomach. “Love how it feels under my hands, love how it bounces when I fuck you.”

Max inhales a sharp breath, scarcely able to breathe as Charles takes him apart.

Charles licks over Max’s stomach again, before sucking a mark into Max’s skin. “I think I should feed you more gelato,” Charles muses, smiling up at Max. “Anything as long as it makes you like this, all soft and sweet for me.”

“Charles,” Max breathes, voice hitching on something humiliatingly close to a sob.

Charles crawls up the bed, leaning down, elbows on either side of Max’s head, to press a heated kiss to Max’s lips.

“You’ll let me fuck you, yes?” Charles murmurs. “Let me tell you how beautiful you look like this?”

It terrifies Max, feeling so exposed, but he nods, frantic, desperate. He wants everything, would let Charles do anything to him. He loves it, he realizes. Feeling taken apart by Charles’s gentle hands.

“Yes,” Max breathes. “Yes, Charles, anything.”

Charles moans, and kisses Max, long and hot and slow.

kiss prompt ask game here

[the-s1lly-corner]

Hey thanks for accepting this ask. So what I wanted to ask is how the amazing digital circus crew would react to a reader who's a strong hero...that's incredibly optimistic, dense and Guilable thinking that the world acts like a cartoon/comic sometimes

TADC cast x comic hero type reader!

meant to start knocking out these last two requests earlier this morning but i had to clean up the house a bit; but im finally getting onto it! reminder that requests are currently closed and any requests sent in will not be answered and will be deleted to keep the inbox clean; so please keep your requests until i announce theyre open again! plan on taking a day or two off to rest my brain n back as well as catching up on art and my own personal fic. the requests being answered currently were sent in prior to requests closing with that said, i hope you enjoy this anon!!

CAINE:

honestly i think caine would be the same way, not exactly but i think he would some of the cluelessness in terms of how the real world works... except its mostly with the non digital real world; call it inexperience or something! lets you play hero during the IHA.. honestly you kind of fit right in with your personality, with tropes and being a stereotypical comic book hero, if not a little naïve. pretends he doesnt recognize you when you walk around in your "citizens disguise"

likes coming up with villain npcs for you to fight during adventures

POMNI:

initial confusion when she sees you just walking around with a tie plastered to your chest, asks you what its for as well as dropping your name. even more shocked that youre shocked that she knows who you are. kind of just accepts this is a thing you do and doesnt question it, especially as she settles into the digital world.. at least youre handy during IHA.. i think during my little break i might try to figure out how i wish to right pomni because i really do wish i made her stuff more... interesting

RAGATHA:

honestly i think she would make you stuff to add to your disguise. doesnt want to shatter the illusion for you so she just tries to casually give you stuff out of the kindness of her heart... which isnt... totally wrong.. honestly i dont think she would try to change you or bring up the bad disguise thing so long as its not somehow putting you in danger. in fact i think she finds your whole hero personality endearing, you guys are both optimistic and its nice to be around someone who isnt just. losing their marbles or being a dick.. plus, you arent technically wrong to view the digital world as a cartoon, i mean, look at it and look at the physics of the world and all

JAX:

oh he is going to be a menace, probably makes a joke villain persona to mess with you only for you to immediately gun for him and deal with his "evil antics",, i mean hey as long as jax doesnt put his silly little villain mask back on you wouldnt suspect a thing... maybe... i think he would roll his eyes at some of the things you say, since youre way more optimistic and out there than ragatha... probably uses your gullible..ness... as a means to trick you

KINGER:

honestly the "as a royal myself" line he dropped in the pilot makes me think that at some level he believes himself to be a real king; or maybe he was just REALLY playing into his whole theming and he knows hes just some dude but was trying to appeal to the gloink queen... what im trying to say is that i think there might actually be a solid chance he fully leans into your hero thing, and perhaps even falls for your disguise (if him constantly forgetting gangle is standing right next to him says anything about his observation skills and/or mental state)

ZOOBLE:

similar to jax but also not. finds your optimism a little too much sometimes; especially if youre very outwardly social and friendly so its not like you swoop in to do your hero duties but you also stop to talk to the 'civilians' of the circus.. though unlike jax they wouldnt try to trick you, nor do i think they would exactly be mean to you. a little irritable by your energy and attitude, maybe, but i think zooble gets irritated by almost everyone in the circus.. reluctantly plays along with your disguise

GANGLE:

i think she would be into it, probably draws you in your non-disguise outfit. you get fanart, yay! probably similar to pomni in the whole, just accepts how you are both as a person and with your antics, but i think she just accepts everything everyone else does! not much to say, shes a fan of it and if you stand up for her when jax is mean thats just an added bonus for her

[jell0buss-37]

i really loved the reporter!peter b having a crush on actress!reader!

i was wondering if you could write more about it! :3 maybe peter and reader do end up dating and reader takes him to red carpets with her and theyre overall super SUPER in love with eachother<3333

I'm so happy you liked the concept! At this point I'm loving the different requests and I'm having so much fun branching out on these characters we've created. I hope you enjoy this one!

Part 1, Part 2

Reporter!Peter B x Actress!Reader (pt. 2)

I thought this pic was perfect for this!

When you guys started seeing eachother, he was completely starstruck

Your dinner at that Italian restaurant had went perfectly! More and more he had started to fall for you and your true personality, completely enraptured by you

You thought he was adorable, like a puppy imprinted on their mother, with those adorable eyes so wide and full of wonder

And the way his ears would burn a bright red any time you brushed your hand against his

Once he got comfortable, he was incredibly open and talkative!

It was your turn to be enraptured by him, seeing him in rose colored glasses at a movie the two of you went to see

You couldn't help but watch him instead of the movie, your hand in his, your arms pushed up against eachother as you watched the scary movie you had picked

He was geeking out, occasionally leaning in to whisper different facts and thoughts throughout the film

You kept getting these little butterflies at the sound of his voice

Being in this field of work, it was natural to have these certain trust issues whenever it came to this sort of thing

You hadn't been in a relationship in over 5 years now

You just didn't see the point in putting so much time and emotions into another human being

That is until Peter opened your eyes to what that point is

He was shy to ask you for a third date, suggesting that he cook for you back at his place

(He finally cleared out all of his things. They now sit in a box under his bed)

You happily accepted

You thought his little apartment was so cute! It reminded you of your days as a beginning actress, and filled you with a sense of nostalgia. Of home.

You guys cooked together, a nice chicken Scampi that reminded you of your mother's. You were so excited when he asked you to cook something you loved, and we're having such a great time showing him how to mince the bell peppers

You both sat down for dinner at his kitchen island, a bottle of wine shared between you two over candle light, a bit of Frank Sinatra in the background

Such pleasant conversation shared between you two, soon dying down when you were done eating, just staring into each other's eyes

The kiss you shared was so sweet, both of your heads spinning from the wine and the passion

You pull away suddenly, running to the bathroom, leaving him standing there, confused

"I-Im so sorry! I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything, it's just that the moment felt right, and you were so pretty, and I- where are your clothes-"

You stood in the doorway of the bathroom, your bra and panties a red matching set

Oh you planned to jump his bones the second he asked you about a third date

It was about a month into your relationship that you decided to make it public, showing up to work to surprise him

Literally in the lion's den of hot gossip

Nobody would stop asking him questions, and he just sits there with the smuggest look on his face

The first time he went to your place, he was absolutely FLABBERGASTED at the amount of Spiderman memorabilia you had

Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment, explaining he was really more of just a celebrity crush

He TOTALLY didn't visit you as spiderman

You freaked out meeting him, it was so cool

You actually cried

He was shocked because he literally said he'd cry if he met you

Irony

Loves bragging about you 24/7

You find the box of all of his geek things

You thought it was so cute and creepy

Whenever you have to work on a film, you guys call and video chat every day and night if it's far away

Sometimes if it's for a long time, let's just say thank God for video chat ;)

Paparazzi photos and articles on you two are so cute because they're mostly talking about how much happier you look

You did an interview with him for vanity fair, and it was so adorable

You even went on a celebrity gameshow once, playing a couples game

You guys get so much love from your fans

That and those edits of you guys with a sappy song in the background

He even makes a cameo in one of your shows as a guy you flirt with at a restaurant once

And then the red carpet events

See my Shopping with Peter B headcannons for that 👀

Overall, life with him is just so much better, and he still can't believe he could even pull you in the first place

[quillyfied]

Okay final episode thoughts that I don’t know that I can expand into real coherent thoughts so heck it we’re doing it live and cramming them together, no chronology just memory vibes, PART FOUR:

- I think part of the problem of it feeling so fast an episode, for me, is the anticipation; I waited to watch it with friends and by the time it was finally happening I had been waiting all day and it was killing me.

- That being said, the pace is breakneck, for something that starts so peacefully

- Love that we get immediate confirmation that Ed is not suited to a fisherman’s life. Though I do love the conflict inherent in Ed meaning “simple” as a compliment based on how hectic and chaotic his life has been up to this point, but of course someone who doesn’t know any of that would think he’s insulting them.

- Also very interested in the shift of Ed going to direct killing rather than trying to put a layer between it and himself; it’s the Kraken but in Protection Mode. Adore that for him. (And maybe the killing doesn’t count if they’re English Navy.)

- I had a feeling Stede was talking to Zheng about being a failure the longer the season went on. Delighted to be proven right. Was also shocked to hear she thought Auntie was dead but then had to reckon with the fact that she hasn’t analyzed a single screenshot and spotted Auntie like I did soooooo

- The simmering anger in my own gut when I saw Spanish Jackie’s overrun and the lady herself treated like that. Also OF COURSE THEY BUILD UP RESISTANCES TO IOCANE POWDER POISON IN THIS HOUSE

- (Side note but the number of ofmd fics, my own included, that have Princess Bride as a reference or element in them makes me smile)

- Calling Ricky Pinocchio. IZZY calling Ricky Pinocchio. The layers. The subtext. The intertextuality. The face-value humor. I’m salivating.

- The letter Ed reads! The way they say the words together!! If they don’t start next season with matching lover’s tattoos (or include it somewhere), I’m rioting.

- THEY GET TO RUN AT EACH OTHER ON A BEACH TO NINA SIMONE FOR REAL THIS TIME

- okay but is Ed’s knee brace a victim of the budget cuts this season bc I miss it

- the entire time they were running at each other I kept shrieking “please don’t stab each other. Please don’t stab each other. Boys please drop the swords and don’t accidentally stab each other”

- KISSIES.

- I LOVE YOU. TWICE.

- Zheng having it up to HERE with these useless gays

- NOT NOW ZHENG THEYRE VERBALLY AFFIRMING THEIR CARE FOR EACH OTHER AND ALSO KISSING

- Olu caring for Auntie. I cry.

- I also cry bc it has seemed to me all season that Auntie and Zheng have a dynamic similar to Izzy and Ed but less deeply toxic; I love that just because it isn’t as toxic, it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t still hurt them both. Auntie choosing to listen to Olu and be softer and more open with Zheng, and Zheng returning the favor, is so important to me. Cannot emphasize enough its sweetness. Especially with Zheng thinking she’d lost Auntie.

- “It’s only a suicide plan if we die” STEDE.

- Giggling to myself at the butt shot bc 1. Of course the guy whose butt it is has a whole post about it where he’s a delight, and 2. Fandom has been begging for them to show hole all season, y’all satisfied? ;P

- Why does everyone look so hot in those uniforms though. Why is Ed putting on a tricorn hat so attractive. These are uniforms that represent imperialist cruelty, WHY IS EVERYONE HOT IN THEM

- (It’s the rebellion of it all I think)

- Awfully bold of Ricky to immediately turn on them when he’s still close enough to be shot, but I think it’s his Rich White Boy recklessness.

- Con O’Niell giving the performance of a lifetime to the very end. The subtlety of Izzy not being okay through the entire mad dash to the Revenge, culminating in him leaning on Ed AND Frenchie and the implications of that I EXPLODE

- So. Turns out my final mini theory about that bloody hand screenshot from the trailer was right; it is Izzy’s blood, and it is Jim that Ed’s hand is blocking.

- Izzy giving the apology we have been waiting for all season as a deathbed confession, HECK

- And giving voice to the fact that he loved and needed Blackbeard! And that he knew he was feeding it even though Ed had OUTGROWN it!! And giving Ed closure and release from having to be Blackbeard!!! GUUUUUHHHHH.

- I really didn’t think izzy was going to die until three days ago. Im so sad. It’s thematic and perfect and if someone had to die of course it had to be Izzy and they did him right by that death scene but I CARE MORE NOW. CHEFS KISS STORYTELLING.

- This end bit, to my memory, feels a little scattered and messy; Zheng wanting to work together to get back at Ricky…and then the ship sails off without Ed and Stede. Maybe I need to watch again but I got some whiplash there. Like yeah it’s way more important to the story that Ed and Stede get at the very least a break from piracy before the next season, more in line with the themes and character arcs, but. Idk. Felt sudden still?

- Pete and Lucius marriage ;A; “you may slash each other’s faces” ROACH PLEASE

- YES ED WE SEE YOUR ROMANTIC SIDE EYE

- FRENCHIE IS THE CAPTAIN NOW. Capitalizing on that quiet arc he’s had all season!! I love it!!! And showing that all of the Revenge crew have it in them to be leaders and the best versions of themselves when given an environment where they can. And now they have capable women aboard! Win-win!!

- I need to go dig up my post about the hollowness and toxicity of revenge in this show bc I have more examples to add to it and strengthen my theory

- Ed and Stede about to go through their Anne and Mary arc. Let’s hope they pivot faster than the other two and don’t get stuck in a rut the same way. But I love that they get to try this out together, to find new dreams and things to do together. They deserve that.

- I also respect the showrunners so much for giving us an ending that could be a decent end if Max doesn’t renew for a third. I like being able to hold my two favorite shows next to each other and see that the two extremes of ending in an uncertain place work—for GOmens, a heart-shattering cliffhanger was absolutely the right call. For OFMD, a soft ending that can be expanded on if allowed. I love them both.

- Gonna go rewatch and then rewatch the whole season and then rewatch both seasons, excuse me.

[hellhoundlair]

could we have some more thoughts on ruby posessing deans body post-s3?

how would dean react when he returned?

thank you for asking, my lovely little anon. i totally forgot i had mentioned this a while back and being reminded of it has made me go holy shit.... my mind.....

(putting a cut here because i wrote a lot)

i think it all would have started very shortly after dean died. the entire foundation of sam and rubys relationship at this point has been that sam has reluctantly agreed to be rubys ally for the sake of saving dean. ruby KNOWS how far sam is willing to go for him and is already using that to manipulate sam from the moment they meet. she knows. like she knows knows. maybe just from being around him or from stalking him or from a hearing it from a little birdie whos been in sams head before. but she knows.

I dont know how long the gap between ruby being possessed by lilith and ruby coming back would be, id imagine a few days, giving sam time to grieve dean or at least to accept the fact that hes dead before ruby shows up in a brand new (or all to familiar) body.

i wont pretend to understand how possession works, especially when its happening to a dead character. i dont think the writers knew either so itd be safe to make up my own rules about it. but its deans body. polished and buffed with not a scratch on him.

sams reaction would be similar to the one we see in the show. hed think dean was undead (technically right) and try to kill ruby before she can get a word out.

and ruby would explain it to sam like hes an idiot, like the reason behind her possessing dean is a no brainer. shes keeping deans body warm for when they get him back. otherwise who knows what will get to him first? this isnt possessing someone and controlling their body against their will. this is a favor. and sam will feel stupid and concede that shes right even if hes uncomfortable with the idea.

it starts immediately. sam treating ruby like she really is dean. without even thinking about it sams already agreed to work together with ruby in bringing dean back and theyre running off together without a word into an all too familiar routine - the only difference being that sam sits in the drivers seat now, and even that is back to normal after sam gets injured on the job and ruby drives them both to safety, a hand clutching sams bleeding shoulder and telling him hes gonna be alright and theyre gonna get back and patch him up and he'll be good as new. and its all too achingly familiar that sams holding her hand on top of his wound and letting himself fall asleep, putting trust in her that he would only ever put in dean.

its the same, but its not. ruby for the most part leans into the dean-isms, but jolts sam back to reality sometimes when she lets her eyes linger while sams just out of the shower bent over looking through his duffle for clean clothes, when shes giving him a hungry look that sams only ever seen dean direct at girls in bars that makes sams stomach flutter. when ruby moves in for the kill it takes suprisingly little convincing to get sam okay with the idea. like hes been waiting to just be told that its okay to want it this entire time.

before they know it deans back (despite bringing dean back being against rubys plans) and in his own body (she has to keep her promises) and ruby has plucked the body of a legally dead jane doe to parade around in. and its. different. dean takes sams new affinity for physical contact as a reaction to finally having dean back, that he needs to feel that deans really there to believe it, but its a lot. a lot more than hes used to from sam.

he doesnt know. not for a while. he wouldnt think to suspect it. until eventually the truth comes out and deans fucking pissed that no one thought to tell him a fucking demon was piloting around his body for a few months, but he doesnt understand the level of reaction that sam gives. how guilty sam feels. until the guilt and the touching and ruby acting like sams jealous ex starts coming together in deans mind.

even if dean has feelings for sam or wouldve done the exact same if he was in sams position, i think it would still feel like a violation. sam took something that dean didnt give and for dean to realise that right after coming out of hell by the only person in the world he would trust not to violate him that way? itd be a lot to deal with. he'd push down his panic over it and laugh about it and make fun of sam for it and stop the conversation when sam sees straight through him and tries to have a genuine heart to heart about it because dean cant fucking handle the thought of having to talk about the repeated brutal rape and torture sessions he both endured and enacted in hell, or to console sam over it when he might fucking snap and beat him with a crowbar if he has to see sam acting like a kicked dog when hes the one who raped him.

it'd take a lot for them to work through. it wouldnt be sunshine and rainbows while they kiss and both declare their love for each other. dean doesnt talk about hell but they both know the memories consume him, a newfound violence in the way he kills, the effective coldness in the way he tortures and interrogates. the distance in his eyes when sam tries to talk to him when hes in that mindspace. thered be a lot of acting like they used to, then eventually dean snapping either because hes frustrated with feeling like he has to act like things are normal and that hes okay with what sam did, or frustrated that things do feel normal and that he still feels safe around sam.

they fight. its bad. not in a property damage way but in an emotions way because it all comes out. and then they slowly and gently work through it one step at a time.

[anxiousgaypanicking]

Choking And Spanking

!a series of me uploading the kinktober fics/drabbles i made years ago because i didnt back in 2020 for some fuckin reason. if these are bad/poor quality its because theyre old, and ive improved since then :)!

Logince (Logan x Roman) Day 4: Choking/Spanking Warnings: degradation, spanking, choking, sex, minor angst

"You need to work on setting realistic goals," Logan says, as Roman pushes open the door to his room. His hands are on Logan's hips, and he's pushing the logical trait into his room.

"And you need to work on having a bit more fun," Roman retaliates, pushing Logan down onto the bed.

Logan huffs, his eyes narrowed. "And is this your definition of 'fun?' Seems more like something your brother would be into."

"You comparing me to him?"

"Of course not, I'm just stating facts. You have to admit, he's the one with a high libido."

"But I'm the one with better skills when it comes to treating my partner," Roman counters, placing a kiss to Logan's cheek. Logan looks indifferent at the contact.

"You're so wrapped up in your head most of the time that you usually forget about your partner," Logan refutes. "Besides, unless your definition of treating someone well is you begging them to fuck you, I'd argue you hardly treat them at all."

Roman frowns slightly. "You really believe that?"

"Of course I do," Logan answers, sitting himself up and pushing Roman up with him, the fanciful trait now being seated in his lap. "Can you remember the last time you did something for me, without thinking about what you'd get out of the experience."

Roman opens his mouth to answer, before closing it. He thinks back over their relationship, realizing he's never really done something solely for Logan.

His eyes brim with tears, and Logan's demeanor softens almost immediately.

"Hey, Roman, I didn't mean to make you feel bad," Logan says, awkwardly rubbing Roman's hip. He wasn't the greatest at sugar coating things, and he tended to be rather blunt.

And it seems like now what he had said had affected Roman in a negative way, and Logan had no idea how to fix it.

Roman sniffles, burying his face in Logan's shoulder. His voice is muffled as he says "I know," and Logan feels worse about what he said.

"It's just that... you're right. I've never done anything for you. I've just been existing like a parasite at your side, begging and wanting and taking, and never giving anything in return. I'm a horrible boyfriend."

"You're not-"

"I am! You just implied it; don't lie to me, Logan!"

Logan frowned, setting his hands on Roman's shoulders and pushing him back slightly. "Roman, I'm not lying. You know I see no point in it," he says, before gently cupping Roman's cheek. "I'm sorry for what I may have implied, but I want to let you know it was never my intention to upset you."

Roman leaned into his hand, but still looked rather sad. Logan sighed softly.

"You originally were planning on initiating intercourse, right?" Logan asks, his other hand gently rubbing Roman's side. Roman nods slowly, glancing up at Logan's face.

Logan gives him a small smile, and it makes Roman's heart flutter. Logan didn't smile often, so Roman always found it super special when he did.

"I know you like when things get... rougher, per se," Logan begins, noticing the way Roman immediately perks up. He's interested... eager, almost. And Logan's smile widens, just a little bit.

Sure, sex doesn't solve anything, but that's what Roman had originally wanted to do, and Logan wanted to indulge him in his wants.

"Well, we can still do that. But... if you're really feeling bad about what I said, how about I punish you?" Logan suggests, voice low. A shiver courses through Roman's body, and he's nodding, excited over what's to come.

Logan presses a sweet kiss to Roman's lips, before he urges the man off his lap. Roman scrambles to do so immediately, flopping down on his back with his legs spread. He awaits instruction, which Logan is happy to give him.

Starting with ordering him to strip.

Roman does so almost instantly, pulling his clothes off his body without hesitation. He was the furthest away from insecure, when it came to his body at least.

He knew he was hot, and Logan tended to remind him that he was beautiful (in his own way of telling Roman that who cared what his body looked like because it was muscle and skin and bones, and how everybody had one).

Logan hums, running his hands over Roman's body. Roman smiles at the contact, before Logan's hands are moving away from his body, and to his own clothes.

"Roll over for me, Roman," Logan instructs, as he pulls his own shirt off. Roman takes a moment to admire his boyfriend's toned chest, before he does as Logan says and rolls over onto his hands and knees. Logan's hands are back on him almost immediately, roaming over his back and squeezing his ass, and Roman's face turns pink as Logan continues to feel him up.

He then lets out a surprised squeak as Logan's hand comes down hard on his ass.

He hears Logan chuckle behind him. "I did say this was a punishment, didn't I?"

Roman nods his head, letting out a whine as Logan rubs over the place he just smacked.

"You're going to count for me, okay Roman? Starting from one," Logan orders, and Roman nods again, letting out a mix of a moan and a whine when Logan's hand comes down on his ass again.

"One," he breathes out, sticking his ass out farther, enjoying the pain as Logan hit him and the sting that was left behind after he did.

He hardly had time to recover, before Logan's hand came down again.

"Two," Roman moans out, shoving his face into the sheets in order to make himself sound less pathetic. He closed his legs, too, hoping to hide how hard his cock had gotten at the pain.

Mere seconds after he said the number, Logan spanks him again, and Roman moans again, letting out a pathetic "three."

They continue like this, all the way up to ten. Roman's eyes are brimming with tears, a few having already spilled down his face due to the pain, and his ass burned from the smacks. He was almost unbearably hard at this point, however, and he gasped when Logan flipped him over.

"You okay?" Logan asks him, placing a kiss against Roman's neck, as he straddles Roman's thigh. His own leg is pressed against Roman's cock. Roman nods, hand reaching up and lacing his fingers through Logan's hair.

"Yeah," Roman breathes out, tilting his head to make his neck easier to access. Logan smiled and immediately began pressing kisses and nipping at the skin, Roman letting out soft moans and whines. His cock is begging to be touched, and he bucks his hips up, grinding it against Logan's leg.

"Logan, please," Roman whines, gently tugging on Logan's hair. Logan rubs his leg against Roman's cock, the prince letting out a moan.

Logan doesn't ask him what he means, knowing what Roman wants. He leans over to the end table, grabbing some lube out of it. They didn't have sex often, mostly because Logan had no desire too, but Roman was horny a lot more than one would initially think he'd be.

Logan squirts some of the lube on his fingers, before setting the bottle to the side.

He wastes no time pushing one of his fingers into Roman, the man letting out a whine at the weird feeling. It didn't feel bad, per se, just different. Logan made sure to stretch him every time they fucked, mostly because he wanted to hear Roman's pathetic noises.

Logan pushes a second finger in, scissoring them and curling them in order to effectively stretch Roman out. When Logan pushes in a third, he's pumping them in and out of Roman, and Roman's trying to rock himself back on them.

Sadly, Logan pulls his fingers out, and Roman whines at the loss. Logan rolls his eyes, as he pulls his own pants and boxers off.

"Hush, Roman, you'll get what you want soon enough."

"But you're taking so long," Roman whines, bucking his hips. He just wanted to be fucked, and Logan wouldn't hurry up and get to it.

Logan tsks, as he lubes up his cock. "Keep whining and I'll make you wait longer," he threatens, narrowing his eyes. Roman whines again at the all-too-real threat, and tries to keep his mouth shut.

But... Logan has an idea, sparked by his own words.

He lined himself up with Roman's entrance and pushed himself in. Roman lets out a moan, but is silenced suddenly as Logan wraps his hand around Roman's throat. Roman's eyes roll back into his head at the sensation, loving the feeling of his blood flow being restricted.

He though the spanking was as rough as Logan was going to go, but he was definitely pleased that the man went further.

Logan didn't start off slow, he went straight to pounding into Roman's ass. The creative trait did say he wanted Logan to hurry up.

Logan's hand eased up around Roman's neck, and Roman sucked in a large breath, before letting out a moan.

"Logan, Logan, Logan," Roman chants, before pressure is reapplied to his throat. He arches his back at the sensation, drool dripping down his chin. He's in absolute heaven right now, and judging from the grunts and groans coming from Logan, he was enjoying himself too.

The hand that's not wrapped around Roman's throat is holding tight to Roman's hip, Logan's nails digging into the skin.

He's determined, as he usually is, to nail that spot that will drive Roman up the wall. And after a few altered thrusts, he finds it. Roman lets out a strangled cry as his back arches, and Logan smiles smugly.

He continues abusing that spot, enjoying all the choked moans and whines Roman let's out.

They continue like this, Logan occasionally easing up on Roman's throat so the prince doesn't pass out on him, until Roman manages to choke out a "close."

Logan's hand that was digging into Roman's hip instead moves to his cock, jerking Roman off in tune with his thrusts. Roman moans, bucking up into Logan's hand.

He comes moments later with a choked moan, clamping his ass down on Logan's cock, pushing Logan over the edge and causing the man to spill his seed inside of Roman. Roman whines at the feeling, as Logan rides out his orgasm, before pulling out.

"You okay?" Logan asks, gently massaging Roman's hips.

Roman nods, before asking "can we take a shower? I feel gross."

Logan nods, sliding off the bed before carrying Roman to the prince's bathroom.

[sometimesanalice]

Joooooordannnnn!! 💖

I love it when you hit me with the lyrics! (and when you send me songs to add to my playlists!) I don't think I would have gotten this one over the finish line without youuu! (god knows it took days for the man's pants to come off and then another 84 years for him to get that bj, lololol)

I am so happy that it was worth the wait and that their journey was a satisfying one! Because you're right 🎶what a difference…a day makes🎶

more for youuuuu!

His uniform has been driving you wild all night. And for as good as he looks in it you want it off. You want him naked. - okay so the pants Are coming off?-- IT HAPPENED THEY DIDDDDDDD (it only took like 2 weeks!)

“You didn’t have me fooled for a second, I knew you weren’t a good girl.” The way he says it makes it sound like it’s the best compliment in the world. - because it absolutely fucking IS-- I'll have to send you the deep cuts, the bits that didn't make it into this fic. Because she's so tickled by this and how he likes her kind of forward brand of flirting because her ex was always trying to shape her into a version of her that dulled her shine. The type of man who liked to try and cage wonderfully wild things for the sake of making himself feel bigger and better. So the fact that Bradley is so enamored with her as she is, when she's just being herself, is such a nice surprise for her. HE LIKES THE BAD GIRLS THAT ARE WRAPPED UP LIKE THE GIRL NEXT DOOR. And she's his favorite kind of tease 🥰

You always did enjoy a theme. - don’t we all!! first the dress is amazing and so slinky and chic and then the UNDERWEAR??? she’s def on theme (why didn’t i have this experience at my bach?? i was on barbie night theme???)-- we love a lovey unrepentantly ostentatious type of girl, the one who LEANS in! of course the dental floss was going to match the look! (also I lit a candle for you and everything and I am EQUALL devastated we didn't manifest this journey for you, guess we'll have to try our luck at SDFW 💁🏼‍♀️)

“Don’t even think about it,” he states heatedly. Like he is personally victimized by even the idea of you putting a layer back on. - bold talk for someone whose pants are still on…-- he's so huffy about it and it's so funny. He's pissed they're so stringy and that he was so greedy to touch her that he didn't get to see them on, but then there's no way he's letting her put them back on, lolol

“You’re not playing fair,” you whine as he runs his teeth along the tendon of your neck, “I was going to suck your cock.” “It’s all yours, baby. You just need to come for me first. I’ll even let you wear my cap as a reward.” // “You’re going to give me a complex if you don’t let me give you a blow job.- i eat this shit up every time like the reader being absolutely DESPERATE to suck his cock??? whiny and begging and he’s like hmmmmm nope! or not yet!! fucking cruel man-- cocky(literally) cruel man! he knows he's going to make it worth the wait and make the reader work for it! He likes a tease because he is one too! She even told him her plans up front! But like "wreck my plans, that's my mannnn"

“We’re skipping over a few things, let me be a little romantic with you before we smudge that lipstick up.” You try to ignore the way your heart somersaults at his words and the affection in his eyes. - oh she Likes him 🤭 and he likes her 🤭-- he's so cute for this! like she likesss him and he def likesss her! The man is trying to show her the best time, and while he can bring it against the door he knows his top tier work is done on a bed.

Bradley’s thigh is taut and tense under your other hand with the strain of holding himself back. - THEYRE STRONG AND BROAD AND BIG AND PERFECT FOR RIDING-- OOF YEAAH THEY AREEEEE

You keen when your nipples catch against his nametag and the ribbons decorating his chest and you’re reminded that he’s not nearly naked enough for your liking. - this is still one of my fave visuals like the medals and ribbons and everything would be so rough and cold against your bare skin??? it’s such a good visual 😮‍💨 and also the fact that he’s still not naked like remind him!!! chop chop pilot boy (and then when they’re on the bed and he plays with one breast and laves his tongue on the other? 🫢)-- like it's so hotttttttttttt! He keeps distracting her and like whoops there goes another thing of yours, and she can't even get his pants off? Greedy boy.

And if you’re only going to have this one night with him, you already know what you want. You knew it from the second he kissed you back at the bar. - oh sweet girl (lower case) 🥺🥺 you guys wouldn’t be this chatty or having this much fun if it was just one night-- like they're having so much fun with each other? that worked up and they're still enjoying teasing each other and dragging it out? like the want is there but not rushing it (until the need gets the best of them and then 💁🏼‍♀️) it's no wonder why the next day she's like "what-ifffffff we hung out all day?". Only one night. Only one day.... that goal post keeps getting moved.

“There we go. Nice and easy,” Rooster murmurs, watching the way his cock disappears into you, “Felt how tight you were around my fingers. I know ‘m big. You’re doing so good for me.” - jesusfuckingchrist (i want it i need it)-make a quinn account (LCCOWEYES) pls and thkx

Somehow through the haze you realize that you’re not just smiling, you’re beaming. - STOP THIS IS SO CUTE!!! like “there! i did it, i made him like this!”-- she's so pleased with herself, she wanted to drive him as wild as he made her, but then also like miss ma'am is having a gooooood time! she's thriving, lol

You know you should take over, it’s too intimate of a gesture. You should, you should, you should. But you don’t. You let him clean you up while you will your heart to stop fluttering behind your ribs. You’re pliant and boneless as he climbs back into your bed and pulls you against his chest. Your body shouldn’t fit so perfectly against his. It shouldn’t, it shouldn’t, it shouldn’t. But it does. - YOU SHOULD YOU SHOULD YOU SHOULD IT SHOULDN’T IT SHOULDN’T IT SHOULDN’T?!!? i’m losing it! i love how she already knows this isn’t just one night or that she doesn’t want it to be just one night? and he seems to feel the same like they’re snuggling under the duvet?? he’s warm and soft and big and reassuring and she’s BONELESS-- this and the washcloth bit nearly ENDED ME. like everything about that evening was not in her cards when she got ready for that bachelorette party. I loved how his instinct was just to take care of her a little bit after, like he just DOES IT. Meanwhile she's just melted butter trying to not fall in love with the big broad man with gentle hands.

“I wanted to sneak in a quick shower just in case. You seem like the type of girl who would know about her Third Amendment rights.” - he’s such a fucking nerd but he’s so funny-- he's like i hope i fucked her good enough to not get kicked out before I rise the conditioner out, lolol. I just love how they tease each other?? they're just so cute.

It only took you a few passes of his tongue to realize what he was spelling against your clit before he had you coming on his mouth. L-I-E-U-T-E-N-A-N-T-C-O-M-M-A-N-D-E-R - all 19 letters 🫡 doesn’t seem like a good incentive to get it right if that’s how she corrects you 🤭-- lol the man isn't a big picture thinker... or is he 😏

Swathed up in your silky robe, you sift through your closet looking for something to wear when your eyes catch on a different pink dress. There are other comfier, easier things you could wearbut it’s the tie on the mostly open back that seals the deal for you. - wait stop!!! this is what she wears to pick him up!!!-- IT ISSSSSSS! she's a sentimental outfit repeater, also he was a fan of it the first time she figured he'd be ok seeing it again!

“So much for free Fleet Week drinks,” you tut, taking a sip of your drink. “But I did get laid today, so I’ll call it a win,” he winks. - i love love love that he practically cleared out the concession stand and how easy they are with each other? like the bump on the hip, guiding each other out of the way? all that stuff is so cute-- he keeps trying to woo her and she's like nah sir let me show you how its done. But he still sneaks his moments it, he's trying to get those digits!

If this is it, if this is all you’re ever going to get with him, this is how you want him to remember you. Standing in a nice dress and staring at the sunset. “Say you’ll see me again.” - oh wow. ughhhh the lyrics!!! my eyes are prickling with tears. also i wanna know what she was gonna say when he cuts her off and explains the paperwork?-- it's just so cinematic! like her hair in the breeze! the pretty dress! the golden hour of it all! the man with the moony cow eyes! She wasa definitely going to say "I don't know", lol. Like she is so overwhelmed by how much she likes him? It's been less than 24 hours and she doesn't want like the perfect day they spent together to get tarnished by reality. Like he is TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE and would rather have the memory as it is in that moment vs ruin it with reality. (but of course after 2 months of thinking about him miss ma'am changes her tuneeee)

“This has all the information you need to get on base if you wanted to meet me there in two months when I get back. They give it to all of us when we get our deployment papers mailed to us, I’ve just never had a reason to fill one out for anyone before.” - okay the tears are lining my eyes now, this is so sweet but so sad?? he’s never given this to anyone else before??? and he’s giving it to her because he knows that there’s something here already!!! and by doing this he also gives her all the power, not even for just the day he gets back, but also to find him - period. he doesn’t have her full name, he knows where she lives sure, but he’s def not gonna use that information if he doesn’t see her at the airfield when he gets back?-- it's that same uncertainty like when he asks if she wants him to stay the night! He's already VERY into her, he's the one that brings up his deployment right away and is talking about bad timing because I think when Bradley Bradshaw decides he wants to woo a girl, he WOOS HARD. He's getting the flowers, he's asking the questions and listening, he's being cheeky but also a gentleman he lets them set the pace but makes sure they know he is INTERESTED. Babe doesn't even get her phone number! Exactly he KNOWS where she lives, but he'd never take advantage of that, like the ball is in HER court and he's going to respect whatever her answer is.

“Say you’ll see me again,” he repeats, quieter this time, “Even if it’s just pretend.”You hear what he is really saying: lie to me, please. - and i’m blinking the tears away. fuck. i can just picture those big brown cow eyes! and he doesn’t even know her full name?!! they don’t even have each other’s numbers!!!-- he wants that crumb of hope! LCDRCOWEYES!! He wants to cling to that perfect moment too, just a little longer!

And let yourself imagine what it might have felt like if he’d have been there too. - oh 🥺 and then she’s embarrassed for thinking that 🥺-- we know how much she waffles. Like the WANTS to be there, but that logical side of the brain is what holds her back from leaning all in. But I think at the wedding she's tipsy enough to indulge in it, but then feels dumb because what man is going to be hung up on someone he only knew for a day?! I bet her hanxiety the next day was a bitch, lol. that was a "i'm not going day" for sure. I had this whole logical conundrum because in my original draft her BFF was there with Jake as her date, and she was watching them from the side of the dance floor when she has that moment of imagining Bradley there too. (jake was going to be the one to bring bradley's things and then beg her for her BFF's number which she relents and he immediately pulls out his phone) But I changed it because really wanted those stakes at the end to feel heightened? like a real now or never moment because the other way she still could have gotten Bradley's info from her BFF like them running into each other would be inevitable in that scenario. So I pivoted to neither of them getting their future boyfriend's phone numbers that night, haha!

You hope you’re not making an idiot of yourself. You hope that he hasn’t forgotten you. You hope he remembers why he wanted you here in the first place. You hope he still wants you. - alexa…you know this is my weakness. and you do it so well!!-- I'm always worried my readers come off as too insecure?? but I think that anyone in this situation would feel like this! It's such an emotional gamble! It's putting yourself out there in such a big way and opening yourself up for a big rejection! And I think with her in particular, she's had enough time to imagine every scenario, but would rather follow her heart and her gut than to wonder.

He’s still handsome as hell. - i see you!! (agree tho he def looks a little extra pretty with red cheeks)-- we had to circle back to it one more timeeee! messy hair! red cheeks! chapped lips! but his eyes are crinkled around the corners because he's HAPPY

And then he’s kissing you in a way that you’re pretty sure is going to screw you up forever. - oh i giggled!!! this is darling!!! ugh im jealous and wanna live in this!!-- and I'm SWOONINGGGGG OVER IT!! to be kissed by bradley bradshaw in a a way that's going to screw you up forever is the DREAM.

thank you for your support and cheerleading and celebrating when his pants finally came off!

Wildest Dream (Part 2)

Summary: It’s been two months since Bradley showed you whether he was more of an officer or a gentleman that night in your bedroom. But now he’s back and you’re ready to find out if he was worth the wait.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, Fluff, and Bradley in Summer Whites (minors dni)

(Author’s note: this was written as part of @laracrofted’s 1989(TV) Challenge!)

You don’t remember finding your keys in your clutch.

Or the elevator ride up to your floor.

Or the winding hallway to reach your apartment.

What you do remember is the way his fingers toyed with the flimsy strings of the bows tied at the nape of your neck as you searched for your keys. You remember the heat in his eyes and the way they trailed over every inch of you as the too small lift climbed to your floor. You remember his lips on your neck and the way the embossed wallpaper that lined your hallway felt against your back.

And you already know you’ll never forget what it feels like to be pressed up against your door by Bradley Bradshaw and the way your world explodes into technicolor at the easy slide of his tongue against yours.

His hands can’t seem to stay in one place very long, like he wants to commit the shape of you to memory. You grip his shirt tightly as you try to pull his body even closer to yours. He moans his approval when you rock against his thigh, the thick fabric dragging against the soft skin between your legs.

His uniform has been driving you wild all night. And for as good as he looks in it you want it off. You want him naked. You want to know if he got his callsign for the reason you think he did.

Your hands trail down his chest, down his abs on a mission. You can feel the way he tenses under your palms as they move lower, lower. There’s no hesitation in the way you grasp and stroke him with one hand as you work to unbuckle his polished belt with the other.

Rooster groans into your mouth, the brim of his hat just grazing your temple, “You didn’t have me fooled for a second, I knew you weren’t a good girl.”

The way he says it makes it sound like it’s the best compliment in the world.

You feel his smile against your lips before he moves to take advantage of your amused laugh by dipping down and licking a line up your neck in a what that had your knees threatening to give out in your tall, sparkly heels.

Rooster’s hand slips under the short hem of your shiny dress. His mouth finds a spot underneath your ear that has you gasping as his thumbs slide under the waistband of your panties. He pulls away only to work them down your legs and watch as they puddle at your feet-

“What the fuck are those?” 

“U-underwear?” The word comes out a stutter the moment Bradley starts moving his big hand slowly, purposely up, up, up the inside of your thigh. 

The high-cut thong was something you’d purchased on a whim. The floral embroidery on the barely-there sheer mesh contrasted with the thin silky straps of the bright pink panties that had caught your eye right before you’d gone to check out with the set you’d bought as a gift for your friend’s Bachelorette party. 

You always did enjoy a theme. 

You’d barely felt them all night. That is, until you’d gotten in the cab with him, and then you were almost hyperaware of them and how wet they were getting. But pooled on the floor of your entryway, they look almost indecent.

“That’s some damn dental floss and you know it,” he rasps as his fingers find your clit. You suck in a sharp breath at the contact. His hot mouth returns back to that spot under your ear, “Now I’m mad at myself for not getting to see them on you.”

Your body erupts in goosebumps at the way the coarse hairs of his mustache feel against your skin. You’re so wet that his fingers have no problem sliding and circling and gliding over that sensitive part of you.

“You want me to put them back on for you?” you offer breathily, hips tilting forward trying to seek more of his touch.

“Don’t even think about it,” he states heatedly. Like he is personally victimized by even the idea of you putting a layer back on.

And then he sinks two thick fingers into you.

“Bradley,” you gasp, your hands flying up to clutch his biceps.

“Mhmm?”

“I-” Your words are lost to a keen when he flicks a thumbnail over your clit. It’s a little mean, but it has your toes curling and tensing in the most delicious way.  

His firm thigh keeps you pinned open as he works you. His lips and tongue mapping out the areas that make you squirm and pant. Your whole body seizes when he teases you with the possibility of another one of his fingers.

“You what, pretty girl?” You can feel his smirk against your neck.

Oh, fuck him. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you. You’d be more annoyed at him if he wasn’t so good at it.

“I-I,” you try again, “I had-oh god, that feels good. Your hands.”

“Hands of a pilot,” he says, satisfied and smug, “I’ll be sure to pass along your compliments to the Department of Defense.”

Rooster’s eyes are molten with pride as he takes you in, from your kiss swollen lips to where the tendons of his forearm are shifting and flexing beneath sunkissed skin half hidden under the hem of your skirt. 

He is frustratingly still so put together while you’re quaking against the door like a leaf in the breeze. You want to make him just as needy for your touch as you are for his, you can feel how hard he is pressed against you.

Your hand goes for his zipper, you’re only able to tug it down half way before Bradley catches you by the wrist and pins it above your head with a tsk.

“I had plans, Rooster,” you pant, finally are able to get out the words.  You’ve never had a man make you feel this good this quickly, he’s picked up on every cue your body has given him. He’s got you teetering along that edge, but he’s still toying with you rather than sending you over it.

“And what were those again?” he hums teasingly, his thumb making infuriatingly featherlight circles against you, “Remind me what was on your agenda.”

Bradley doesn’t give you the chance to reply because he’s hooking his fingertips against you and dragging them against that spot inside of you that causes your head to fall back against your door with a gasp. He shows you just how well practiced in giving pleasure he is as he does it again and again and again.

You try to arch into his touch but his strong body pressed against you so securely that you can’t do anything more than take what he gives you. The short hem of your skirt is riding dangerously high, gathered and bunched between the two of you.

“You’re not playing fair,” you whine as he runs his teeth along the tendon of your neck, “I was going to suck your cock.”

“It’s all yours, baby. You just need to come for me first. I’ll even let you wear my cap as a reward.”

“Such a gentleman.”

“Damn straight,” he says before licking deep into your waiting mouth, “Now show me you can be a good girl and come on my fingers.”

You don’t get a chance to reply because Bradley’s thumb changes up the patterns it’s making on your clit making you cry out. There’s nothing teasing about his touch, he’s playing your body to pull exactly what he wants from it. His movements are controlled and precise even as you writhe against his hand.

When you come it’s with his name in your mouth as your orgasm coasts over you in a whiskey wave. The heat and force of it radiating through your whole body from your fingertips to your toes. Bradley murmurs sweet words into your ear as shivers work their way down through your spine.

You’re still breathing hard when you flutter open your eyes just in time to see him pulling his shiny spit-slicked fingers from his mouth with a devastating smirk.

So pleased with himself, so damn handsome.

Not to be out done you kick away that hot pink thong and pull his face to yours seeking the taste of yourself from his mouth. He welcomes your tongue with a satisfied moan, his hungry hands running up your back to tug at one of the sets of ties on your dress.

“Nuh-uh,” you tut against his mouth as you push him up against your door, “It’s your turn, Lieutenant Commander Bradley Rooster Bradshaw.”

You’ve only managed to undo two of the little white buttons on his uniform, and while you’re dying to see more of his skin, the hard length of him against your stomach has your full attention.

Your knees only just skim the floor before he’s hauling you back up.

“Wait, wait. C’mere, baby,” Bradley says, his hands on your elbows, “Show me your bedroom and then I’ll let you have my cock.”

“‘Come on my fingers’, ‘show me your bedroom’,” you parrot back to him, stroking him through his pants, “You’re going to give me a complex if you don’t let me give you a blow job. I have a theory about your callsign and I need answers, Rooster.”

“You can, I promise,” he huffs a laugh, running his thumb under your bottom lip, “We’re skipping over a few things, let me be a little romantic with you before we smudge that lipstick up.”

You try to ignore the way your heart somersaults at his words and the affection in his eyes.

“It’s longwear,” you reply, with a cheeky half shrug,  “But you’re certainly welcome to try.”

“We’ll see about that,” he smirks, dipping down a bit to get an arm underneath you and picking you up like it’s nothing. Your legs wrap around his waist as he carries you from your entryway and past your kitchen towards the open door on the right where your bedroom is, the lamp on your nightstand that you’d left on before leaving for the evening guiding the way.

“How is your hat still on?” you mutter before laving at the scars on his neck that had caught your eye earlier at the bar.

“How is your tiara still on?” he tosses back, leaning his head to the side to give you more access to the skin at the base of his throat.

“It’s a headband.”

“It’s cute.”

You pull away with a grin, “I knew you wanted to try it on. Big, strong, Naval aviator has an affinity for pretty shiny things.”

“Guilty as charged,” Rooster agrees. His hands run down the sides of your waist as he sets you down, his fingers stroking the material of your sparkling pink dress. “Where do you want me, baby?”

You don’t answer him, instead you press him back lightly until he takes the hint and sits on the side of your bed, legs wide so that you can step into the space between his thighs. He makes an enticing contrast of tan skin and white uniform against the pale blue of your comforter.

Holding Bradley’s heated gaze, you take the pristine white hat off of his head and set it on the nightstand next to you. The sight of his sunkissed curls is a treat you weren’t expecting to see and you can’t help but run your hands through his hair.

You take a minute to indulge in the feeling of his soft strands between your fingers as he leans into your touch. There’s a ribbon of desire that is still wrapped around the two of you, one that pulls tighter with every pass of your hands.

“Take your cock out,” you murmur.

“Yes, ma’am,” he says with a wink, his voice like rich espresso.

He’d gotten his way, now it was your turn.

You lean forward to kiss him, wet and deep, before finallyfinallyfinally sinking to your knees in front of him.

Rooster is all efficient hands and fingers as he unzips those dizzyingly snug pants the rest of the way down. You swear that smirk of his gets a little wider as he pulls his cock out for you. 

You’re almost annoyed at how perfect it looks, at how big it is. But that feeling fades quicker than it came on at the pretty way his large hand fists and pumps himself. It makes your breath get caught in your throat as you watch.

And then he’s holding it out for you like an offering, “This what you wanted, sweetheart?”

You don’t shy away from his intense gaze as you flatten your tongue underneath him and obscenely lick up the length of him.

“Goddamn,” he says hoarsely, as he throws his head back.

You beam, pleased and preening, before you pull him fully into your mouth. That smirk is entirely wiped off his face and you can see the way his jaw is clenching and releasing as his face is angled up towards the ceiling. Your hand replaces his on his cock to stroke him in time with the bob of your head. He groans low and ragged at the twist of your wrist at the base of him as you swirl your tongue right underneath the firm ridge of his head.

You feel your Bridesmaid headband slide back on your head with all your enthusiastic movements, and it falls to the floor with a metallic clatter. You wait until he’s looking back at you before you hollow your cheeks as you draw his cock further into your mouth.

“Knew that smart mouth of yours was going to look so good around my cock. God, you’re so fucking pretty,” he says, running his thumb along your jaw, “That little pink dress of yours did a number on me, I couldn’t stop looking at you.”

Bradley’s pretty praise and compliments goes straight to your head, like a rush of bubbles from a freshly popped bottle of champagne. You like the way he is gazing at you- his eyelids heavy but his eyes greedy- and the way he looks sitting on your bed, his presence filling the space of your room.

“If you like it so much I can tell you where I got it from,” you tease, “Don’t think they’d have your size though.” You treat him with another long lick, taking a moment to catch your breath to work him in your hand. It slides easily over him with the mix of your spit and his pre-cum.

“We both know how much I like pretty shiny things. I like seeing them on pretty girls, but I think I like seeing them on the floor even more.”

Rooster reaches out to slide his hand up the valley of your breasts and up around your neck to the back of your dress where the duo of bows of the halter top are still tied and starts tug on the ends of them.

You run your fingernail gently along the underside of his cock, smirking to yourself when it jerks in your hand. You take the tip of him between your lips, flicking him with your tongue as you let him work on the bows.

“Jesus, what kind of knots did you tie on this thing,” he grunts, still pulling on the thin pink strings.  

“I thought you Navy men were supposed to be excellent with knots,” you say with a laugh, moving your hair aside so that he can see better.

“I fly planes that land on ships, the only knots I’m tying are the ones on my boots.”

“Well now, that’s a shame,” you say with a sigh, blinking up at him with your best doe eyes. You give him a couple more slow pumps and watch with pleasure as his eyes flare with heat as he catches on to your meaning.

The way he moans your name sounds like both a curse and a prayer.

You pull away from him and sit back on your knees reaching up behind your neck. He watches you with rapt attention as you untie one and then the other. You hold it up with one hand at your collarbone and run the fingers of your other hand over the swells of your breasts before sliding it behind your back to release the final bow dancing along your mid-back.

And then you let go of the top.

It flutters down to your waist and you’re bared before him.

“Fuck me, knew you couldn’t be wearing a bra with that sexy little dress,” he groans as you pull him back into your mouth.

His fingers fly to your hair as you work to take him further and further into your mouth. It’s impossible to look away or close your eyes when his heady gaze is trained on you so intensely. He goes slack-jawed as you swallow around him, humming your approval to his reaction around his cock.

It’s easy to lose yourself to the rhythm of it. Of the staccato of his breath and sounds of satisfaction coming from in his broad chest. Of the weight of his cock pressed against your tongue.

Bradley’s thigh is taut and tense under your other hand with the strain of holding himself back. You are almost tempted to tell him to use your mouth how he wants, but there is something so exciting about having this man wrapped around your finger and at your mercy. He’s looking at you with such open want in his eyes that it makes that place low in your stomach spark with desire.

You pull off of him to drop a few open mouth kisses to the length of him. You look up at him from under your eyelashes, making sure you have his full attention when you use your tongue to trace along the thick vein on his shaft.

“How’s my lipstick holding up, Rooster?”

He barks a laugh, his smile wide and broad with amusement, “Hasn’t budged. Guess I’ll have to work harder to make a mess out of you then, huh?”

“I guess you will.” You shift forward like you mean to brush a kiss to his lips, but pull away with a mischievous smile right before his lips could meet yours. He groans and leans forward chasing after your mouth.

“C’mere, pretty girl,” Bradley says, hauling you up off of the cream-colored carpet of your floor. He hastily shoves your dress down the rest of the way down your hips and onto the floor before pulling you into his lap.

“But-” The words die in your throat as you whimper at the contact of your soaked cunt as it rubs up against his thick cock. Rooster runs his nose along the line of your neck as your hands tangle in his curls. He squeezes your ass with his hands encouraging you to continue your rock and grind against him.

When you tug him back up to your mouth, he goes willingly with a self-satisfied smile. You keen when your nipples catch against his nametag and the ribbons decorating his chest and you’re reminded that he’s not nearly naked enough for your liking.

“Why are you still dressed?” you huff, your insatiable hands roughly pulling at the buttons of his shirt, “If you were as interested in furthering those civilian-military relations as you claimed to be earlier, Sailor, you’d take that uniform off.”

“My apologies, ma’am,” he drawls, not sounding the least bit sorry, “Please allow me to show you just how committed I am to cultivating strong bonds with the local community at hand.”

And in a move so smooth and powerful, Bradley’s got you pinned to the bed. It doesn’t even register to you until he’s crowding into you, his head dipping down to drag his teeth over your peaked nipple. His large hand comes up to cup and massage your other one as he laves over you in broad and long strokes of his tongue.

He rolls against you teasingly and the way your thighs come up to bracket his hips is almost instinctive as you sink further into the cloud of your bed under his sturdy weight.

That mustache feels even better against your chest as it did against your neck when he had you pressed against your front door. But the drag of those damn buttons is impossible to ignore even as his hot mouth works its way down your sternum and stomach.

“Bradley.”

“Yeah, baby?” He nips at your hipbone as he strong-arms your thighs open further for his wide shoulders to settle under.

You’re so tired of feeling that sure-to-be-well-made fabric under your hands and against your body. You want to feel his skin against yours. You want his heat. You want to smell like the cedar and spearmint scent of his cologne.

He’s been derailing your plans since the moment you saw him enter the bar, but in this you will not be swayed, “If you’re not naked in the next ninety seconds, I swear I’m going to kick you out.”

“I can work with ninety,” he says with a toe curling glint in his eyes right before he licks into you.

The coarse hairs of his mustache against that most intimate part of you has you seeing not only stars, but entire galaxies. He slides his hand under your back to get you to arch further towards him. His tongue is relentless against your needy clit and when he sucks it has your hips canting right into his charming mouth.

“Can’t keep those hips on the bed, can you? Keep tryin’ to chase my mouth,” he smirks at your frustrated whine when he pulls away from you all too soon. He’s all lithe grace as he moves and stands up at the end of your bed.

You can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed. There’s no reason to be when he shoots you a wink so easy and playful and so endearingly cocky that you think you might just melt on the spot.

“Tick-tock, Lieutenant,” you say breathily as you sit up and lean back on your elbows.

“Now you’re just being difficult on purpose. That ok, baby, I think you’ll enjoy it when I fuck that attitude right out of you.”

“Promises, promises.”

You already know that lazy smile he’s wearing is going to take you down as he starts to undo the buttons of his uniform. He’s definitely past the ninety seconds you’d threatened him with, but there’s no way in hell you’re going to kick him out now.

Rooster does it slowly. One by one until he is shrugging it off his frame. He looks like sin standing there tall and broad with his belt dangling open and his cock hanging out proudly from the open fly of his formfitting pants.

“Oh, this is getting good now,” you muse, not unaffected by the increasingly unclothed man in front of you.

Feeling brave you bring your fingers down to your clit, teasing yourself lightly as he pulls his thin undershirt up and over his head. And finally, you get to see all of that bronzed skin on display. The sight of the smattering of chest hair between his full pecs and the ridges of his abs in the soft light of your nightstand lamp has your mouth watering at the sight in front of you.

“That’s it,” Bradley says lowly, his eyes glued to the shiny, slick part of you, “Show me how you like to touch yourself.”

You let your legs fall open wider for his gaze as you continue to touch yourself. Your heart hammers against your chest as you put yourself on display for him. As you show off for him. With every passing second your need for him ratchets up even higher. He gives himself a few pumps, his cock still shiny and wet from your mouth and pussy, before he’s shoving his pants down his thick thighs and kicking them off.

He works his way back up your bed and props himself against your tufted headboard and pulls you back into his lap. You sigh as you lean into him, your bare skin against his. At last. He feeds you his tongue as he tips up your head for a fevered kiss, his hands skimming up the length of your spine and into your hair as he commands your mouth with his.

“What’s it going to be, sweetheart?” he murmurs against your lips, “Do you want to be fucked by an officer? Or do you want me to be sweet with you? I’ll show you just how much of a gentleman I can be.”

A shiver works its way through your body and you feel the way his lips pull up at your response to his raspy voice and the sultry promise laced in his words. The night has been building up to this, the feeling of his hands in your hair and having his clothes on the floor in your room shouldn’t feel so right. But it does.

And if you’re only going to have this one night with him, you already know what you want. You knew it from the second he kissed you back at the bar.

You pull back just enough to lean over him to grab his hat off your nightstand. His hands flex on your hips when you set it on your own head. It’s heavier than you’d thought it would be and it tilts down your forehead a bit. Rooster tips it up for you and adjusts it, his eyes seeking an answer you have yet to give him.

“I want to be fucked by an officer, Lieutenant Commander,” you say, running your thumb down the divot of his chin.

You’ve never felt more powerful than you do at the sound of his wrecked groan.

“Grab that condom, baby,” Bradley’s voice is thick with need.

“Yes, sir,” you say cheekily, pulling open the drawer next to the bed.

You aren’t expecting the hand that connects with your ass or the sound of the sharp slap that seems to reverberate throughout your bedroom or the way it makes you even wetter than you already are.

The tequila and champagne from earlier wore off long ago, now you’re just drunk on him.

You pass him one of the gold foiled squares and watch as he rolls it on with ease as you hover above him on your knees. He’s got you so spun up in such a short amount of time, you’d know from the moment you saw him that he was trouble, you just didn’t realize at the time that he was going to be your kind of trouble.

He holds his cock in one hand and guides you onto it with his other hand heavy on your hip. You expect him to rock up into you, to give you both that air stealing bliss, instead your jaw drops open at the way he’s coaching you to sink onto him slowly, slowly, so so slowly.

It’s been awhile since you’ve taken something other than your fingers or one of the toys discreetly hidden in your bedside drawer and he has you whimpering as you stretch and spread around him. You can feel his want in every devastating touch, in every heated kiss. You cling to his shoulders to keep you from floating away.

“There we go. Nice and easy,” Rooster murmurs, watching the way his cock disappears into you, “Felt how tight you were around my fingers. I know ‘m big. You’re doing so good for me.”

He’s got a hand wrapped around the base of your neck and around your waist holding you there when your hips finally connect, keeping you from squirming as your body works to relax around him. Your pussy flutters around him at the sheer size of him.

You gasp in surprise as a shiver of an orgasm flurries through you unexpectedly. 

“Goddamn,” he grunts, you can hear the relief in his voice as he continues to rock up into you gently pulling out more of those ripples from you.

He’s still holding you in place, controlling just how much of him you’re getting, his fingers are pressed tightly into your hipbones. His hair is a mess and his eyes are hungry. Bradley is flushed the prettiest shade of pink along his cheekbones and across his chest.

You’re about to tell him so when your eyes snag on a patch of scarred skin on his shoulder and you suddenly must know what it feels like under your tongue.

The second your seeking tongue glides over it Rooster’s hips jerk into you in a way that steals all the air from your lungs. You wrap your arms around him and bury your face into his neck as he does it again and again in smooth, measured strokes.

But it’s not enough. That whisper of an orgasm was nothing like you know it could be. It did nothing to take the edge off, all it did was make you more desperate for him. 

He feels so solid beneath you that you need more of him. You start to roll your hips against him trying to get him to move faster, to fuck you in the way he promised he would.

“Oh, you wanna take the lead, huh? By all means,” Bradley says, putting his hands behind his head in a way that makes his biceps look massive, “C’mon, pretty girl, show me what you got.”

Not one to turn down a challenge, you reach behind you to brace your hands on his thick thighs and lean back. You’d show him alright.

Show him just how good you look wearing his hat. Show him just how good he looks buried in your cunt. Show him just how good he looks covered in your arousal. Show him just how good you look working his cock as you roll your hip and raise yourself up and down on him.

“Jesus, fuck. Look at you. Good girls don’t ride cock like that. Shit, you look so damn pretty. You feel so good like this, you’re taking me so well.”

His eyes are torn between watching your face and the way your breasts bounce and the way his hat on your head bobs in time with the rhythm you’ve set. The new angle has the pressure building up swiftly in your lower stomach. And it’s so good, but it’s not what you want. It’s not what you need.

“Stop being such a gentleman, Rooster. I thought you were going to fuck me,” you say, leaning forward and nipping at his bottom lip.

“Pretty sure I told you I was both,” he says tracing a finger down your soft stomach to your pussy, you shiver as he starts making tight circles on your clit, “But if you wanna be fucked, then you’re going to be fucked.”

Bradley shows you just how honed his body is in the way he pulls you off of him and onto your hands and knees in front of him. Your arms never had a chance at keeping you up when he roughly pushes into you. He grips your hips tightly forcing you to bend and arch up further to meet his powerful thrusts.

His hat topples off your head and onto the edge of the bed, where his next drive of him into you sends it dropping onto the floor.

“Tell me how much you like getting fucked by an officer, sweetheart, I want to hear it.”

“It’s good,” you moan into the crevice of your elbow, trying to muffle some of your whimpers.

“Just good? The way your pretty pussy is clinging to be, I’d say you’re feeling more than ‘good’,” he taunts, slapping your ass for good measure in a way that makes you jerk back against him.

“Just think there’s room for improvement, you’re so chatty for someone who could be fucking me harder.”

“Had to work you open before I could fuck you. This how you want it?” he snaps his hips harder and faster into you. You gasp at the sensation and clutch at the comforter beneath your hands.

“Yes, yes.”

The pace he sets is desperate, hungry, and unrelenting. When he skims a hand up your back, tangling it in your hair and tugs, you swear you’ve never made the sound that he pulls from you before.

Every time you adapt to rock and grind of his hips and start to thrust yourself back to meet him, to take him deeper, he changes up his tempo forcing you to only take what you’re given. His touch is so electric you feel like you could light up a whole city.

Your room is filled with the sounds of skin connecting on skin, of sharp breaths and shattered sighs and pitchy keens. The angle he pounding into you has the ridge of his cock rubbing against that spot that has you trembling and writhing beneath him.

“Oh fuck, fuck. Bradley. Please.” You’re babbling nonsense now and you know it, but you’re so, so close.

He knows it too because when he slides his hand around you to run his thumb over your aching clit you shatter around him with a choked sob into your arm. You don’t fight the waves of pleasure crashing over you, you let them pull you under.

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he rasps as you quake under his touch, “Good girl.”

His own hips start to stutter against you and his breathing starts to run ragged as he fucks into you. He is clutching your hips so tight you wouldn’t be surprised if you were wearing his fingerprints tomorrow. His groan as he comes is the best sound you’ve ever heard.

Somehow through the haze you realize that you’re not just smiling, you’re beaming.

Bradley is so perfectly heavy on top of you and so warm. You’re so thoroughly worn out and well fucked it’s all you can do to lay there with your eyes closed as you float in that post-orgasm bliss. You make a noise of disapproval when he pulls out of you.

“Gotta get rid of the condom, baby,” he says with a little laugh. You feel the bed shift as he makes his way to your bathroom, already missing the feeling of his body against you.

You know you should get up. Maybe take your makeup off or get some water, but you’re just so content. So satisfied. You’ve had a few one night stands before, but you’ve never felt so comfortable with someone before.

You hear Bradley’s steps get closer as he comes back into your bedroom, but the feel of a damp washcloth gliding up your thigh to the center of you takes you by surprise, “Oh, that’s warm.”

“Is it too warm?” he asks, pausing. You were lucky if your ex would hand you a tissue, so Bradley’s thoughtfulness makes something in your stomach flutter.

“’s nice. Thank you,” you sigh, arching into his tender touch.

You know you should take over, it’s too intimate of a gesture. You should, you should, you should. But you don’t. You let him clean you up while you will your heart to stop fluttering behind your ribs.

You’re pliant and boneless as he climbs back into your bed and pulls you against his chest. Your body shouldn’t fit so perfectly against his. It shouldn’t, it shouldn’t, it shouldn’t. But it does.

“You still with me?” Rooster teases lightly, brushing back some of the sweaty strands of your hair that were clinging to your forehead.

“Just resting up for round two.”

You feel his smile as he presses a kiss to your cheek, “Mmhm.”

Time slips away under the gentleness of his warm hands. Your breathing slows down to match the way he smooths his palm up and down along your spine. You don’t realize how close you are to sleep until he’s pulling you back from the wisps of slumber that were rising up to meet you.

“Do you want me to stay?” he asks quietly. You think you hear a string of hope threaded through his words.

It’s late, but not too late that he’d have a hard time finding an Uber or a cab to take him back to wherever home is for him, but you’re not quite ready to let go of him just yet.

“Yeah, you should stay,” you murmur into his chest.

You feel as he pulls up your comforter around the two of you. You nestle in even closer to him, draping your arm over his stomach and tucking your head under his chin. He reaches over you carefully and turns off the little lamp on your nightstand.

“Ok, I’ll stay.”

It doesn’t take long until the sound of Bradley’s steady breathing lulls you to sleep.

When you wake up, the first thing you notice is the way your body aches in the most pleasant of ways. You allow yourself to stretch luxuriously, your high thread count sheets skimming against your still naked body.

The second thing you notice is the sound of the shower running in your bathroom.

You’re glad to have this moment to yourself to grin madly into your pillow.

Because he stayed. He’s still here.

Once that rush of giddy energy works its way through the rest of your body, you get up to find your clutch with your phone in it and bring it back to bed with you. You shoot a text off to your best friend so that she doesn’t worry and get caught up on all the things you missed in the chaos that is the group chat. The amount of missed notifications are in the triple digits, you love to see girls supporting girls.

A few minutes later Rooster comes out of the bathroom with one of your fluffy white towels wrapped low around his hips. There’s still a part of you that still can’t believe last night even happened even as he stands in front of you, giving you a wide grin when he sees that you’re awake. 

His hair is damp and the sight of those curls make you want to run your fingers through them again. Those muscles of his look even better in the morning light that is filtering through your blinds, you’re getting more than an eyeful of him.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Bradley says gesturing to the open bathroom door, “I wanted to sneak in a quick shower just in case. You seem like the type of girl who would know about her Third Amendment rights.”

“You never know, there’s still time,” you say with a coquettish little shrug and a Cheshire cat smile, “Although it seems rude to kick someone who made me come three times last night.”

“Four,” he says, the left side of his mouth ticking up a bit as he leans a hand on your dresser.

“Four?”

“Mmhm, four. I know what I felt.”

“Would you be up for reminding me how that fourth one went?” you ask, teasingly pulling the soft sheet down your body to sit up on your knees at the edge of your bed.

“Sure would, ma’am. Anything to solidify those civilian-military bonds,” Rooster says, strutting towards you.

He’s ducking down to greet you with a kiss when you stop him with a hand on his chest, “Wait, what time do you have to be back?”

You see that easy smile of his falter for just a moment, “18:30. Sorry that’s-”

“I know military time, Bradley,” you say with a smirk, toying with the loose knot of the towel. You do the math in your head, there’s still almost seven hours before he has to go. It’s an easy decision when you offer, “What do you say, Lieutenant, you want to spend the day with me?”

Rooster answers with an enthusiastic kiss and greedy hands that tell you everything you need to know. It doesn’t take long before you’re pushing off his towel, pulling him on top of you and getting  tangled up with him again.

It only took you a few passes of his tongue to realize what he was spelling against your clit before he had you coming on his mouth. 

L-I-E-U-T-E-N-A-N-T-C-O-M-M-A-N-D-E-R

And then after he reminds you of just how that fourth orgasm went, you set him up with some coffee in your kitchen as you go take a shower and get ready feeling entirely too weak in the knees for a man you’d just met.

You opt to skip the make-up and go fresh faced to have those extra minutes with him instead. Although you do end up finding a spot beneath your ear, a remnant from his mouth last night, that you do have to take a minute to conceal.

Swathed up in your silky robe, you sift through your closet looking for something to wear when your eyes catch on a different pink dress. There are other comfier, easier things you could wearbut it’s the tie on the mostly open back that seals the deal for you. You grin to yourself as you tug open the bow before pulling it on.

He lets out a low whistle when you emerge from your bedroom.

“I know it’s not sparkly, but I think it’ll do,” you joke, twisting your hips a bit so the material of your floral print ruffle sundress floats around your calves.

“It’ll more than do,” Bradley says, staring at you with the same open desire as you’d probably given him when he’d emerged from your bathroom wrapped in that towel.

You turn and look at him over your shoulder, “Do you mind tying this for me?”

You could easily tie it yourself, but it wouldn’t be nearly as much fun as having him do it for you.

“That ok?” he asks, his voice dropping a few notes lower as he fiddles with tying the flimsy straps in the back for you.

“It’s perfect. Thank you, Rooster.”

He drops a kiss to your shoulder when he’s done and then spins you so that you’re facing him.

“What about me? How do the Summer Whites measure up?” he asks, clearly fishing as he gestures to his uniform. It’s still white and pristine and surprisingly devoid of any wrinkles from the night it spent on the floor of your bedroom.

You give him a contemplative once over taking him in, “It’ll more than do. Although, you’re missing a little something.” 

You walk over the island where you’d set his hat earlier so that it wasn’t forgotten on the floor in your bedroom and pick it up. He bends a little for your benefit as you place it on his head. 

“Cute,” you say, adjusting it so it sits just right, “But I think I wore it better.”

“I think you did too,” Bradley says, tugging you in for a thorough kiss before he laces your fingers together, “You ready?”

“Yeah, let’s get this show on the road,” you say with a wink, repeating the same thing that you said back at the bar when you decided to take him home with you.

The first stop is to your favorite little café not too far away from your apartment. Coffee and food were very necessary after the way the two of you had worked each other out the night before.

Bradley had looked so cramped in your little VW Golf on the way over that you decided to ditch it there and walk around the area instead. The two of you popped in and out of the bookshops and plant shops and record stores that dotted the area. You were surprised to learn he had really great taste in music and ended up picking out a few new vinyl records to take home with you.

In line at the checkout, he’d plucked your credit card from your hand, nodding to the sign advertising the store’s military discount and whispered into your ear, “I won’t tell Uncle Sam if you don’t.”

A ten percent discount never felt so thrilling.

You caught more than a few men and women checking him out in his Summer Whites as you walked around. But you couldn’t blame them because he’d caught you checking him out more than once. But it wasn’t your fault that his ass was a revelation in those tight pants. And he clearly knew it.

When you see the marquee for the small theatre on this side of town that is known for playing the classics and art house films advertising a showing for State Fair you offhandedly mention how much you like that movie as you peek in the widow of one of the antique shops, and then next thing you know he checking his watch and pulling you with him to the box office window for tickets.

“If you don’t let me pay for something here soon, you’re going to give me a complex,” he complains when you stop him from pulling out the credit card that he has tucked in the pocket of his uniform.

“Sorry, Rooster, it’s still Fleet Week and rules are rules,” you joke, bumping him out of the way with your hip sliding your card to the attendant before he can argue with you any further.

“Baby, I need you to stop Richard Gere-ing me,” he says, taking the tickets and wrapping an arm around your waist then leading you in the building.

“Alas, they’re playing Pretty Woman today, but I think you have the potential to make a pretty Julia Roberts,” you tease him, “I’d bet red would look very fetching on you with those undertones.”

The pinch on your right butt cheek makes you jump, startled. You whirl to see if anyone caught him, but the lobby is fairly empty. You turn to send him a heatless glare, but his face is the picture of innocence.

You shake your head at him amused, “Ok, fine. Just for that I will allow you to buy me a small soda from the concession stand, Bradley.”

He looks very pleased ten minutes later when he’s carrying a large bucket of popcorn, three types of candy, and two giant cups of fizzing soda as you go to find your seats.

“So much for free Fleet Week drinks,” you tut, taking a sip of your drink.

“But I did get laid today, so I’ll call it a win,” he winks.

The two of you trade whispers as the lights go down and the music of the opening credits starts to play. You grin as you reach over for some popcorn and hear him humming along.

Just as Vivian Blaine starts strutting away from Dana Andrews, her hair bouncing vivaciously with each step, Rooster angles over, “Hey, that’s how your friend looked last night walking away from Hangman. He’s been harassing me all day to get you to give me your number so he can call her.” 

You hold back the snicker that tries to escape your throat when he gets shushed by someone a few rows back, whispering even louder, “Sorry!”

You lean in closer, admiring the way half of his face is illuminated from the screen and confide, “Where do you think she learned it from?”

You and your best friend had taken the same film studies class in college and she tested out the move that night at the bars near campus with an almost perfect success rate. It’s been her go-to move ever since.

“No shit?”

“I’m serious,” you say with a giggle.

The shusher makes their displeasure known again and this time the both of you burst out laughing.

“We should probably go before they start throwing popcorn at us. I don’t think even with military grade detergent that you’d be able to get butter-flavored oil out of those Summer Whites.”

Bradley agrees readily and your heart flip-flops knowing that he’d rather be talking with you than sitting silently for the next two hours. He even tosses one of the boxes of candy to the shusher on the way out as an apology.

The two of you head to the beach instead, sitting on the sand and watching the waves. Tossing some of the popcorn kernels to hungry seagulls who approach. The two of you are both a little overdressed for it, but if anything, that makes it more fun.

You’re surprised at how easy it is to talk to him, to tease him. Surprised that he’s more than just a pretty face with a good body. The way he is so at-home and comfortable in his own skin makes you feel like you don’t have to try to be impressive, you can just be yourself. 

As the sun sinks lower in the sky, you’re both increasingly aware there’s a ticking clock above your heads and that this has to come to an end soon. And far too soon you end up making your way back together to where you’d left your car a few blocks away from the café you’d taken him to for brunch.

“Do you need to drop by your place for your things?” you ask Rooster, toying with your car keys.

“I packed last night. I asked a friend who is shipping out with me to grab them for me,” he says, scrubbing a hand down the side of his face.

“Not Hangman?” You wonder fleetingly if your friend ended up caving and giving him her number or not.

“Not this time. Which I’m not too mad about since he snores.” You know he is trying to make you laugh, but you just press your lips together and nod.

“So I should head there.” It’s not a question. You know your time is up.

“You probably should,” he says, with a sigh and a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

It’s a quiet ride as he directs you to a public lot near the Naval Air Station where he says his friend Bob is going to meet the two of you, explaining that he doesn’t have the pass that would allow you to drop him off inside the gates.

There are a few cars in the lot, but he points out where you should park near an older, but well maintained Chevy truck. When you look over as you pull into the space a couple spots away a man in glasses waves, you don’t miss the two duffle bags that are in the second row of his cab.

“Hey, I’ll be right back. Don’t leave yet, please,” Rooster says, unbuckling and getting out of your car. And for whatever reason, you do too.

You linger in front of your Mini Cooper as you wait for him to come back to you. You watch as his friend Bob passes him a pen and some paper, you can tell he’s trying to fill it out quickly based on the way his hand seems to be flying over it.

There’s an intensity to the way that Bradley walks back to you. Your feet are pinned to the asphalt beneath you as his eyes stay trained on you.

You both stand there nearly chest to chest just taking the other in. 

He’s still too breathtaking for words in his uniform as the golden hour light makes the sun-streaked strand of his hair gleam like threads of gold. His eyes slowly run over your face and down the dress he’d carefully tied you in this morning.

If this is it, if this is all you’re ever going to get with him, this is how you want him to remember you. Standing in a nice dress and staring at the sunset.

He reaches out and cups your face in his warm hand.

“Say you’ll see me again,” he says, holding your gaze. You can see every color of brown reflected in his pretty eyes.

Your heart seizes in your chest, “Bradley, I-”

He lightly puts his thumb over your lips to stop you before you can finish.

“Listen, I really like you. But it wouldn’t be fair of me to ask you to wait for me, so I’m not going to.” You’re unprepared for the rock that sinks to the pit of your stomach. “What I’m going to do is give you this,” he says handing you the thin paper packet, “This has all the information you need to get on base if you wanted to meet me there in two months when I get back. They give it to all of us when we get our deployment papers mailed to us, I’ve just never had a reason to fill one out for anyone before.”

You hold it in your hands and look at it. The letters are slightly sloppy in that way that men seem to have. The sheet is filled out his full name, Bradley Nicholas Bradshaw, as well as what you assume is his military I.D. number and other crumbs of information about the handsome man standing in front of you.

And you’re reminded again, that you’ve only gotten to see just the tiniest sliver of him.

“Say you’ll see me again,” he repeats, quieter this time, “Even if it’s just pretend.”

You hear what he is really saying: lie to me, please.

His friend is waiting for him in his idling truck.

And Bradley is waiting on you.

But you feel like you’re out of time.

This was supposed to be one night.

One night, one moment.

So why does this feel so big? Like you were on the precipice of something monumental.

You haven’t even known him for twenty-four hours and yet you’ve never felt like this about anyone else before. The potential of him and of what this seemed like it could be was too good, too perfect. And it scares you. Because the reality of it could crush you if you let yourself give into it and he changed his mind. You don’t want to get swept up in a daydream or a flight of fancy.

What-ifs are just heart aches, not heart breaks.

You can’t give him what he wants, not right now. But you can’t lie to him either.

Even if you want to. Even if you’re dying to.

“Stay safe, Lieutenant Commander Bradley Rooster Bradshaw,” you say, softly not trusting your voice.

Bradley leans in and tips your chin up with a finger under your chin, your eyes flutter close and your breath catches in your chest when you feel his warm breath ghosting over your face. He brushes the softest kiss you’ve ever been given against your cheek. The sweetness of it melts against your skin like a snowflake, like a wish.

“I hope I see you again,” he murmurs, lips lingering.

And then he’s gone, taken away on a summer breeze.

Those two months had moved slower than you thought possible.

You’d learned that your best friend hadn’t been able to give Hangman her number when she’d ended up being the one to try and corral the gaggle of drunken bridesmaids at last call and shepherd them into the waiting cabs. Apparently, she’d tried to look for him but by the time she’d had a moment he’d already left.

That packet of paper you’d kept on your island had taken on a life of its own.

At your friend’s wedding, you’d stood off to the side in your intricately beaded bridesmaid dress watching on with a glass of champagne in your hand as she had her first dance with her new husband. And let yourself imagine what it might have felt like if he’d have been there too. The next day as you had nursed your hangover, you’d regretted indulging those thoughts in addition to drinking the full bottle of champagne you’d snuck away with.

It felt like you were just going through the motions. Like your head was somewhere else, with someone else.

The more you tried to talk yourself out of it and forget about how he’d made you feel, the more he chased you in your dreams.

All the hours you’d spent wondering about what-if you went, what-if you waited, what-if you met him there had led you to this moment here and now. 

The drive had been made, the papers had been handed over and you were approved for entry, it was all happening.

You at Naval Air Station North Island wearing the same pink floral ruffle sundress that you had dropped him off in two months ago.

The smell of jet fuel and rubber mix with the ocean air as the planes start to land one by one and make the slow taxi along the long airstrip that leads to the ramp where they are to park. The perfect lines of them were just as immaculate on the ground as they were in the sky.

As more and more of them make their final descent, the more antsy the crowd of friends and families of the squadron members get. There’s an excited tension steadily building as they wait for the go-ahead to leave the hanger to greet the people they’ve been missing.

You can hear your heartbeat beating in your ears like a drum.

He’s here. He’s here. He’s here.

You hope you’re not making an idiot of yourself. You hope that he hasn’t forgotten you. You hope he remembers why he wanted you here in the first place. You hope he still wants you.

When the final engine of the final plane is turned off, the officer in charge announces that everyone is free to exit the hanger and another cheer goes out. This one much louder than before when the aviators had done the flyover in their faultless formations.

It’s a rush of people as they stream around you out of the domed arch of the hanger and onto the open tarmac under the cloudless blue sky.

The names on the planes had been clocked well in advance by their keen, anticipatory eyes. They know exactly which aircraft they’re heading to and who is going to be climbing out of that cockpit to greet them with equal enthusiasm.

You can see the beaming smiles, you can hear the giddy laughter.

Yet your feet stay stuck on that line between the cracked industrial cement floor and the sundrenched tarmac as you watch all those happy moments happen around you.

It’s the sound of a raspy, full bodied laugh that catches your ear and has your head whirling to the left.

And there he is.

Even from a distance the sight of Bradley Bradshaw has your heart fluttering in your chest.

You see him meeting up with a couple of other pilots with his helmet in hands. You recognized Bob by his glasses, but they’re joined by a fierce looking woman. Rooster is all smiles as she gives him a friendly, playful shove before slipping her hand into Bob’s.

There is nothing you want more than that smile of his to be directed at you.

You catch the way he seems to be checking over his shoulders and looking around to observe the joyful homecoming scenes unfolding around him.

It feels like half hope, half agony when you take that first step out of the shady hanger, onto the tarmac, and into the bright San Diego sun. There were still more than a few warm summer days to look forward to.

Summoning more courage, you take a few more tentative steps in Rooster’s direction. You feel like you’re holding your breath, waitingwaitingwaiting for him to look over and see you.

You’re noticed by his dark-haired female friend first, who nods her chin in your direction. You see the rise and fall of his shoulders as he takes a deep breath before he turns towards your direction and sees you for the first time in two months.

And for a moment, it’s just you and Bradley.

Across a crowded bar. Across a teeming tarmac.  

His eyes locked on yours and yours locked on his.

That easy smile he’d already been wearing is transformed into a wide grin that lights up his whole face.

Your stomach swoops and your feet start moving like they have a mind of their own towards him. He hands his helmet to Bob before he’s taking long strides to meet you halfway. You’re almost toe-to-toe with him, but you stop a respectable half-step further away than you’d like to be.

The two of you are a little greedy in the way you take in the other up close.

You can almost feel the warmth of his brown eyes on your skin, he’s looking at you like he is trying to soak up every inch of you. He has a heart-fluttering crinkle around his eyes as his gaze sweeps over your dress. And you know you’ve made the right choice by wearing it.

Rooster is more tan than the last time you saw him. Sweat dots his temples and his pretty curls are a little flat, no doubt from the shiny red and yellow helmet he’d all but blindly shoved into poor Bob’s hands. You notice that his lips are chapped and his nose a little sunburnt.

He’s still handsome as hell. Maybe even more so now.

“Hey, Sailor,” you greet him, giving him a grin of your own. “You look awfully familiar. Although I think the flight suit is throwing me off, maybe if you put those Summer Whites back on it’ll help jog my memory.”

He laughs and slides a finger under the thin strap of your dress and gently tugs you in even closer.

“Huh, that’s funny because I definitely remember you,” Bradley says, scooping you up with one arm, “Pretty sure you’re the girl of my dreams.”

And then he’s kissing you in a way that you’re pretty sure is going to screw you up forever.

Your wildest dreams never could have prepared you for the reminder of how good it feels to be held in his arms.

Your wildest dreams never could have prepared you for how good it feels to have his lips sliding against yours again.

Your wildest dreams never could have prepared you for a man like Bradley Bradshaw.

He was real and he was in front of you and he wanted you.

“I need you to stop smiling so much, sweetheart, so I can kiss you properly,” he says, pulling back to nudge your nose with his.

“My apologies, I’ll try to take this more seriously,” you tease, still smiling as you pull his face back to yours.

As Bradley presses you even closer, you realize this might not be a bad idea at all, but possibly the best one you’ve ever had.

There's no man quite like Bradley Bradshaw! Whether he is in his Summer Whites or in a Flight Suit he's That Man™️!

Many, many, MANY thanks to @gretagerwigsmuse for her support and endless cheerleading! He's finally got his pants off, Jordan, we did it!

If you missed Part 1 you can read it HERE! Or if you haven't read the story that started it all check out Hey, Sailor!

You can read my other stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

[vaguely-yandere]

your sensitive yandere got me back into yandere as a whole,,, send help it's exactly the type of yandere I want

sensitive yandere who starts fantasizing about a chubby fem darling who's really affectionate and sweet? could be in an nsfw way or a sfw way, it's up to you ^w^

you just rly looked into my soul with this one, huh?

honestly, i tried to keep it equally nsfw and sfw but. that plan did not work. i hope you enjoy this because personally, i love it :3 i used they/them pronouns but used afab anatomy!

i imagine they'd have some sort of fixation on your touch. how soft your hands are. how warm you are. how they can feel everything, your finger prints to your body hair(or lack thereof), even just you slightly brushing against them leaves them weak in the knees and while, yes, it does make them feel horny, they dont want you thinking theyre only attracted to you sexually. thatd be rude! besides, you're just so... well, perfect! an angel in disguise, they can't mess this up!!

so they educate themselves!... well, they stalk you and take more note on what annoys you or pisses you off but they still count it as educating themselves. you made a comment about not liking being infantilized? already working on ensuring they see you as a perfectly capable (perfectly capable with them) adult! dont like comments about your body? never mention it in their love letters that they never actually get the courage to send. LOVE comments about your body? they have a list of everything they love on every inch of your skin from how your hair looks/feels to how cute it is when your feet get a bit swollen after walking around all day. not that they pay a lot of attention to your feet!... unless you want them to.

oh and you're just so... sweet. its torture for them. everyday they struggle with controlling themselves, trying not to melt into a puddle whenever you accidentally brush against them. lets say you two end up riding a bus together. you take the seat next to them because, well, they seemed like the least hostile person to sit next to that day but in their head, they think it's destiny. your thighs spread in the seat naturally, you put your bag or purse in your lap and you worry about taking too much space, about invading theirs, meanwhile they're trying to hide the fact their eyes are rolling into the back of their head and they silently thank past them for wearing dark bottoms that day.

and you know them. not well but maybe you two take the same bus everyday or work together or are neighbors, something, but its enough to know that both of you get off (lol) at the same spot so when it comes (lolx2) and they don't stand up, their eyes squeezed shut, you're mind fills in the blanks.

'they must be sick' 'are they in pain? thats a really intense expression' 'are they asleep and having a nightmare?'

so you reach out and gently shake their shoulder, forcing their eyes to shoot open and make direct eye contact with yours. it's too much. the sweet look on your face. your concerned expression. the way your shirt shows off your chest. the way your legs look when leaning over. they cant control it, they just cant, oh god-

"a-ah-" they moan out breathlessly, looking at you with a pained yet blissed out expression, like a mindless little doll ready to do what you ask.

"Oh!" you reach into your bag and pull out some gum. "Here! Chew on this till you get home!" you weren't dumb. you know what a moan sounds like but you wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt. "Now come on, this is our stop. Can you walk?"

they nod after a moment of pure silence, swallowing thickly around nothing. oh god. if i stand up right now... will they see it? did it get on the seat? if i move, will they smell it? but... they called it our stop...

you gently grab their bicep and 'help' them up, frowning as you feel them trembling underneath your touch. maybe they're just... chronically ill or something? it's not your business, you should just help them get off the bus and be on your way, unaware of the way they pant, the way they bite their lip, the way their eyes dart around to try and find something to settle them because if this keeps going, they're going to pass out.

when the bus stops, you help them out and to a nearby bench where they sit down, body practically vibrating now.

"do you need to throw up?" you ask, frowning as you feel their head. they're really, really red... should you call someone? who would you call?

they shake their head, looking at you like you hung the moon, the stars and the sun in the sky just for them and it's hard not to feel a little embarrassed. their bottom lip is red and a bit swollen from all the biting, they're panting hard, their hands are trembling and a bead of sweat slowly falls down the side of their neck but their gaze is fixated on the ground. if they look at you again, they might just burst!

they kinda look dehydrated...

congratulations! you end up with a stranger in your house, on their knees in front of you, looking up at you with pure and utter desperation.

"please, please, please! i-i you don't understand, i need to repay you, i need- fuck, please, if i dont ill go crazy!" they beg, gently pulling on your bottoms but only small tugs. they dont wanna go into this wrong. "ill be good for you, i promise, you're just so nice and-and i just need to repay you! promise ill be good for you! please let me make you happy!" they act as if you'd be the one doing them a favor for having sex with them.

"uhm.." they seem so desperate and, well, they aren't a complete stranger... "f-fine but-" before you can even finish, they're tugging off your bottoms, practically chanting 'thank you' over and over before diving between your legs, the surprise guest making your hands instinctively grab their hair. "s-slow down!"

they moan the second your hands are on them, albeit muffled by your thighs, and lick a hot, wet stripe across your underwear, shuddering. going against gut instinct, you lean back against the couch cushions, slowly spreading your legs so they can breathe easier.

"c-careful..." you mumble, stroking their hair in a silent apology for tugging it and when they shudder, their reactions leading up to this moment make perfect sense. "oh fuck, you've been so desperate for this this whole time, havent you?"

they whine and nod, seeming a bit guilty but that guilt doesnt stop them from pulling your panties down and licking your clit, the action seeming kinda sweet. despite the desperation and tension in the air, they're actually being very gentle, massaging your thighs with their fingertips, spreading kisses along your inner thighs and creases, carefully avoiding your chub rub. you tense and sigh when they continue licking your clit, focused intensely on the task.

you get a bit worried about them seeing your double chin so you look up at the ceiling, closing your eyes to focus on the sensations of their hot tongue circling- leaving you? you look back down at them, seeing the most heartbroken expression you probably ever seen.

"please.. watch me? i worked hard to make sure i please you.."

the words send heat shooting to your pussy and you just nod, almost completely forgetting about your insecurity. their grin nearly blinds you and they go right back to eating you out, happy you're finally starting to get wet, moaning loud enough it doesnt even sound like they have a mouthful of pussy the second they taste you

when you really start getting into it, moaning and grinding against their face, they remove their hands from your thighs and quickly (and awkwardly) take off their bottoms, tossing them aside and allowing you a full view of the mess in their underwear.

"oh poor baby, you really needed this, didn't you sweetie?" you moan, eyes rolling back for a second. someone really came in their pants just from you? without even getting touched? honestly, it was flattering.

they moaned their confirmation into your cunt before pushing their tongue inside you, finally looking up at you with those big, obsessive eyes and you finally started realizing what you just got yourself into, their fingertips digging right back into your thick thighs, probably leaving bruises for later.

"s-so pretty, such a pretty thing, so good between my-ah! my legs!" you moan out, digging your heels into their back to try and bring them closer, deeper inside of you. it's like they memorized exactly how you like it and you have the sneaking suspicion that the feeling of being intensely watched whenever you were masturbating wasnt just an illusion. they flick their tongue when you want it, they suck on your clit when you want it, they're rough when you want it, gentle when you want it, they start fingering you exactly when you want it and you never even have to ask.

"f-fuck, please, don't stop, being so good!"

they whine again, their hand sneaking away from your thigh and going between theirs and thats what makes your thighs trap their head against your pussy, the word 'gushing' coming to your head as you cum, fingernails digging into their scalp mercilessly as your eyes roll into your skull and mouth fall open, loud moans tumbling out.

they don't stop until you lift their head up by the hair, their face looking completely fucked out. "g-good..?" they asked hoarsely, face soaking wet from your cum and their saliva.

"perfect."

their eyes roll back into their head as they gasp out your name, trembling as their shoulder rapidly moves up and down before coming to a stop, body shuddering then collapsing, head falling on your stomach. you can't help but giggle at their blissed out face, gently petting their hair. honestly one of the best sexual partners you've had.

(this is only my third time writing smut like this, pls tell me how i did!)

[demadogs]

one thing that makes me think theyre still going the byler route despite volume two not being nearly as byler leaning as volume one is the fact that they didnt initially plan to release the season in two parts. that decision was made because they didnt finish the finale yet and they needed more time but still wanted it out by may so they divided it in two.

so its not like any of their thought process while writing and shooting could have been “lets make it look like mike likes will back in the first volume to try and grow our audience for volume two”. they wrote it not knowing there would be two separate volumes.

people usually binge new seasons of this show in one or two days. if they hadnt split this in two, it wouldnt really serve the purpose of queerbaiting because there wouldnt be any time to gain that new audience.

[lipstickstainz]

cold metal - s. r.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Request: i just really want spencer reid to find out his girlfriend has her nip nops pierced. like he would be so cute and blushy. and she’d be like “bubs theyre just my boobs” and he just does the grabby hands at her

Warnings: nipple piercings, implied smut Word Count: 1.1k (sorry, it’s so short!) A/N: ugh I want piercings so bad, but I'm such a coward haha. thanks for requesting! requests are open! hope you enjoy. gif not mine.

Spencer had never been so grateful for a team-building activity in his life.

It was mid-July and unexpectedly warm for Virginia - nearly 95 degrees Fahrenheit - and Spencer was behind you in the rented kayak. You brought up the rear of the squad, and while Team Jemily and Team Morcia had a competitive paddle, you two stayed behind and enjoyed the beautiful weather. Spencer had a book in his hand and was reading to you while you lazily moved the paddles so that you would eventually arrive at your destination.

Hotch felt that this action was necessary. You had been working steadily for two months, had never been home for long, and had wasted every spare minute on current cases. He would have preferred to give you all a month off, but his team was incredibly ambitious and there was a lot to do, so he could at least talk them into a day on a river in nice weather. So at least you had a day where you didn't have to sit in the dark office.

The sun shone warmly on your skin and without further ado you pulled your shirt over your head. "Would you please put some sunscreen on my back?" you asked Spencer, who without hesitation put his book in his waterproof backpack and pulled out the sunscreen. You never had to ask Spencer twice to put his hands on your body after he had taken the first step two months ago.

You had been at your house and had gone through your Doctor Who marathon as planned. You had picked him up at nine in the morning, with a comforter and pillow in tow, and since then you had hardly left your bed. The show was on the TV that sat on the dresser in front of your bed, but really you were far too busy swapping fan theories and discussing which season was the best. You lay next to each other and you told him about the theory that James Bond was supposed to be a Time Lord. You waved your hands in the air to emphasize your point and turned your head in Spencer's direction, who looked at you with a broad smile.

"What is it? I saw the theory on Buzzfeed. Don't look at me like I'm stupid”, you pouted and he gave a short laugh. You pushed your bottom lip forward and he wondered if your lips have always looked so kissable.  He didn't hesitate for a second. Spencer straightened up and leaned over you and before you could do or say anything, he pressed his lips to yours. You put your hand on the back of his neck and pulled him closer to you so that he slid between your legs. Doctor Who was just incidental after that.

You kept it a secret, not because the team wouldn't be happy, but to find out exactly what it was between you. You had been best friends for years, and the jump from friendship to couple was something neither of you had any experience with. It was prudent to keep it between you for now. An endeavor that was quite difficult when you were wearing skinny jeans and Spencer couldn't think of anything but your butt, or when he was spouting smart facts again without knowing how attractive that made him. Except for a few innocent kisses, you held each other back at work.

Spencer rubbed his large hands over your bare skin, sliding his fingers under the band of your bikini top before pulling you against him. He was sure the cream would leave some stains on his t-shirt, but he didn't care. You leaned against him and he wrapped his arms around your middle. Your head rested on his chest and you could hear his heartbeat.

The others were already far away and there wasn't a soul around you as Spencer's fingers moved up and slid under the hem of your bikini. You took a deep breath. You'd been together for two months, but had never gone further than making out and a little groping, which was why his touch was giving you goosebumps now. Spencer grinned to himself, taking your rapid breathing as a sign that he should continue.

Carefully, he slid his hand under the fabric and froze when he felt cool metal against his palm. He withdrew his hand and confused, you turned to face him. "Are you all right?", you asked him, wishing so badly that he would continue.

Spencer's face turned red and his cocky manner was hidden behind a shy look you couldn't interpret. "Since when do you have nipple piercings?"

Surprised, you looked at him and only then did you realize that he hadn't seen you naked or in your underwear. How could he have known that you had piercings? "I got them pierced after my eighteenth birthday”, you replied, and he nodded curtly. Spencer continued to stare at you until you turned to face him completely. His gaze remained on your boobs until you raised your hand and flicked it in front of his face. He broke free of his trance and rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

"Did it hurt?" He tried really hard not to stare at your breasts, but failed miserably.

"At first, yes, but not anymore." You enjoyed that he couldn't take his eyes off you, so you arched your back.

Spencer licked his lips. "Do you feel - is that making you more sensitive?", he stammered, before finally looking back up into your face. His eyes glittered with want and need.

"Try it. They're just my boobs, love" you grinned, and you didn't have to say that twice.

Spencer stretched his arms out and made the typical grabby hands motion before placing his hands on your covered breasts and taking a deep breath as if he had finally arrived at his destination. He let his fingers slide over the fabric and when they caught on the metal, you winced briefly. Not from pain, but because in your opinion there was still too much fabric between his hands and your breasts. Without further ado, you reached behind you and untied the knot of the bikini so that the fabric fell off your body.

Before you could say anything, Spencer closed the gap between your bodies and pulled you onto his lap before putting his hands on you again. "Fuck, I've been waiting for this for so long," he confessed, and you felt his erection between your thighs. His fingers pinched at your nipples and you moaned into his mouth.

Needless to say, it took you way longer than expected to paddle to the finish line.

[milkacchan]

Fav boys thinking S/O reader has a kid bc they misunderstood a conversation with friends or on the phone but in reality they were talking about their pet

Bc i talk to my dog like he's a small child and care for him like one and its caused confusion

Bakugou:

• he's just chillin

• youre in another room of the dorms

• You're within the ear shot

• and your phone rings

• he doesn't really think anything of it but he can't help but eavesdrop when youre on the phone

• nothing alarming until

• "How's my son?"

• and he freezes

• he feels himself pale but he keeps listening

• "I miss him so much, I didn't know it was going to be this hard to be away from him," you groan. "I just want to see him and boop his nose and coddle him."

• Jesus christ

• "he's getting chubby though, thats good, he was so tiny when he was born. So much loose skin-"

• Ngl his stomach kinda drops

• You have a kid??

• How did this happen- WHEN did it happen?

• It couldn't have-

• oh it very well could

• You disappeared for your 2nd year in UA- it could've happened then-

• and you didn't tell him.

• Not when he was your best friend and not when he was your boyfriend

• He feels betrayed- he feels gross-

• he has a right to at least KNOW of the child's existence- I mean he knew it wasn't his, but still.

• And so for the next days he's really weird.

• he tries to he normal with you, text when he can, hug you goodbye, just continue like things were

• but he just couldn't.

• And he dreads when you confront him about it- he knew you would, you've always been like that

• "You have a kid!" He snaps. "You left during second year, didn't tell anyone about it and then you came back- and you didn't tell me. I wouldn't have been mad! I wouldn't have pushed you away, I-"

"Katsuki what the FUCK are you talking about?"

"You. Have. A. Child."

"Source?"

"When you were on the phone with your mom?"

You paused for a moment. "Jesus Christ Kat, I was talking about my puppy. I got a dog while I was traveling ABROAD during my SECOND year, with my COUSIN. I helped deliver him because I was interning at a vet. He was the runt and they thought he was gonna die. So I stayed an extra two weeks and I brought him home."

He clenched his jaw. "God damn."

"Katsuki, I tell you everything. I wouldn't hide that from you. Besides," you made a face, "i'm too scared to have sex with you, because sex is scary. Why the fuck would I have it with anyone else?"

"I dunno." He mumbled.

• You take him to see your dog, obviously

Kirishima:

• he isn't even entirely sure what you were doing

• all he knows is that you're cooing into the phone held against you ear

• "Hey baby, its me! You miss momma?"

• Momma.

• bro- he just kinda zones out.

• his mind immediately going to the fact that you might have a child- not might- you do

• I mean how else could you explain that?

• he didn't even stop to think WHEN you could've had a child. He just jumped right in.

• He wasn't mad- how could he be?

• it wasn't wrong for you to have a kid.

• maybe you should've told him but you could've been scared.

• afraid he might leave you

• he wouldn't leave you, God no.

• he loved you and it was going to stay to help you

• I mean, he doesn't want you to go through this alone.

• You guys are what, just barley 18? You already have a kid, thats gotta be tough.

• So he makes the decision, instead of being upset or hurt that you didn't tell him, he's just going to step in and see if you'd like help.

• He won't push to meet the kid, thats up to you. Introducing kids to partners before its really serious doesn't always go over too well.

• he plans what he's going to say in his head, goes over it twice and nids to himself.

• that all goes out the window when you sit on the couch again

• "You have a kid?" He blurts and mentally kicks himself afterwards.

"I'm sorry what?"

"It's okay, I'm not mad, really," he put his hands up, "It's hard to tell someone about it. You can trust me with stuff, even things like that. I won't use it against you or get mad- I'll even help out if you need. Sure its not mine but it really doesn't need to me-"

"Eiji, baby, shut the fuck up for a second."

He closes his mouth, stopping his ramble.

"What are you talking about?"

"On the phone, you were talking. To your kid right? You said 'it's momma,' and-"

"Babe I was talking to my dog. I haven't seen her in two months and she recognizes my voice over the phone. I talk to her most nights before bed. We just had to do it earlier today."

• He feels his face flush.

• Jesus christ.

• you're cackling.

• he doesn't think its that funny

• he profusely apologizes for thinking you had a kid, implying that you did /things/ with anither person

• Obviously you take him to meet your dog because what kind of mother would you be if you didn't?

Deku:

• Dekus the kind of guy that would definitely take a few days to himself if he found that out.

• You've got a 50 50 chance of him staying

• He doesn't like it when people lie to begin with, it makes him feel weird

• So for him to find out you have a whole ass /child/ that he didn't know about?

• he's pissed. And sad. And confused. Because when the fuck did you have it??

• You'd think with all the analyzing he did, he'd be able to pick up maybe you were talking about a pet or something??

• Wrong. His emotions take over and he's just gone

• and once you get off the phone you're like?? Zuku? Baby where'd you go???

• 3 days.

• 3 Days he ignores your texts, calls, approaches before you get tired of it

• during those 3 days, well- day 3 more like, he goes to his friends

• like fuck i have a problem

• and theyre like ?????

• "So um- they have a kid."

"They what??????"

"Y/n has a kid. I heard them talking over the phone."

"Do you think maybe you mught've misunderstood? I mean when yould they even have had time to have one?"

"I don't know! But they didn't tell me! What am I supposed to do?"

"First off," todoroki begins, "what did they say that led you to believe they have a child?"

"Well, they were like, he's my son- not yours, and then they were like, he's growing out of his clothes, and but that his feet were still tiny-"

"Did they use a name?"

"Yeah, well, a nickname I guess, stubby? I think it was?"

"Midoryia that's their dog. They have a dog who likes to wear sweaters. Since he's a puppy " Todoroki sits up. "She refers to her dog as her son.

"I thought they only had a bird," he dropped his head to the table and whined.”They only told me about their bird,” 

"Good luck fixing that."

• He brings you flowers.

• and chocolate

• to your dorm

• and when you answer you look very displeased.

• you just kind of eye him, waiting for him to speak.

• "Angel," he begins, "I'm sorry. I- I jumped to a conclusion."

"And what conclusion was that."

"That you had a kid." He mumbled. "When you were talking about your dog."

"You dumb fuck, we haven't even had sex yet. Who else would I be with? When would I even have had time to make a human being?"

"I know. I'm sorry."

• He wants to meet the dog.

• You make him wait.

• HOWEVER

• You do show him pictures.

Sero:

• He's high off his ass bro.

• fuckin zoinked

• you take a phone call in which you clearly mention dog features but he only seems to catch baby, princess, daughter, small toes, and chubby

• N he's like sweet you have a daughter,

• and then he forgets about it, too caught up with staring at something on the ceiling

• a bug he thinks

• and then he starts laughing because he thinks the word bug is funny lmao

• and when you get off the phone he leans his head against you

• and like 10 minutes later he remembers as he's kissing your neck

• "oh, so you have a daughter? How old is she?" He's so nonchalant too lmao

"Baby what?"

"You have a daughter, right? You were talking about her over the phone. She has small toes. How old is she?"

"Sero, you're gone," you smile, ruffling his hair.

"What? Did I do something? I don’t want to leave,” He frowns. 

"I’m not making you leave babe. I don't have a daughter. I have a puppy named bubbles, but I call her princess. She's a teacup."

"Oh that's so cute,"

• its just amazing that he wasn't conflicted by the possibility that you may have had a daughter

• maybe its because he's high

• maybe he just really doesn't fucking care

• either way he vibed with the idea

• and then was like oh cool can I see a picture of your dog then

• and then fell the fuck asleep when the high started to wear off

• boy what a day

[stargazing-enby]

I had a dream that harry and draco were both aurors and they were married to ginny and astoria and then got sent to a mission and they had to do a steak out????? But ofc there was tension so they were like uuuuhhhhh we should bring our wives bc uuuuhhh we cant be away from them too long ya know and they all spend a month or two in a house and shit and ginny and astoria fall in love and bc theyre badass ladies they are upfront about it and then harry and draco are like.... Guess we should a dress

our thing too huh?? And then albus and scorpious have 2 moms and 2 dads (ginny and astoria were both pregnant btw, dont know if i already said that) and it was weirdly amazing and i didnt know who else to tell so yea

***

Anon, your mind. First of all, thanks so much for sharing your dream with me because it's honestly amazing. Second of all, I was re-reading your asks the other day wondering if I should try to write this, and soon after that I took the (ill-advised) decision to take a nap and started dreaming about your prompt. Now I feel like I share a special, oneiric connection with you! Anyway, I hope you enjoy :)

Thanks @april-thelightfury115 for betaing!

Drarry | 2.3k | Teen and Up | Falling in Love, Break Up, Getting Together, Kid Fic, Pregnancy | Read on AO3

At first, Ginny had been mad. Offended, even, that her husband had thought it a great idea to make her share a house with Astoria Malfoy for Merlin knew how long while he and Draco ran off to chase some suspect.

“The only thing that woman and I have in common is that we're pregnant,” Ginny had argued, “and that we're both married to bloody idiots!” 

Three weeks into the stakeout, however, Ginny had to admit she’d been wrong. Although wrong wasn't perhaps the most accurate of word choices, since she and Astoria were, like she’d suspected, completely different kinds of people. Where Ginny was passionate and intense, Astoria was quiet, an aura of serenity always surrounding her. Where Ginny bickered and joked and threw jibes around with her husband whenever she had the chance, Astoria was all subtle touches; a small caress to Draco's shoulder before they left home in the morning, a careful take care whispered in his ear. 

Where Ginny was fire, Astoria was water: cleansing and soothing and calm. 

But she had been utterly, dangerously wrong in that she couldn’t help but find Astoria Malfoy intoxicating. 

“Darling.” Astoria had recently taken to calling her that when they were on their own, in a tone that Ginny could not bring herself to believe to be purely neutral. “Are you sure you're not tired? I sincerely doubt they'll arrive before dawn this morning—we don't have to stay awake if you don't want to.”

“No, no—” Ginny couldn’t help but shiver as the small realisation washed over her for seemingly the hundredth time that night: the realisation that Harry, as much as she adored him, could not have had any less to do with her wanting to stay awake. “I don't want to give up the chance to beat you one more time.” 

Astoria smiled at her, cheeky.

“Very well,” she said, and, after a moment, moved one of her knights on the board. She didn't take her eyes off Ginny as the Knight destroyed one of Ginny's pawns; her eyes sparkled with naughty mirth, and Ginny's breath caught. 

A moment later, a wave of guilt drowned the butterflies in her stomach, and Ginny looked down at the chess board and told herself that she was in love with her husband. Utterly, helplessly in love. 

Except you aren't, a little voice said. You love him. You love him more than anything. You’ve loved him since forever; you'll love him for forever, because he'll always be the person who gave you your son. But you are not in love with him anymore. You haven't been for a while now. 

“Ginny.” 

She raised her head. 

“You're not thinking about the game.” 

It wasn't a question. 

Astoria knew. She wasn't stupid. She knew she wasn't meant to be calling Ginny darling, knew of the emotions—deep, fierce, raging—that ran under Ginny's skin whenever they shared a smile, a look; whenever one's fingertips found the other's knuckles and their knees brushed and bumped almost on their own accord in the middle of their nightly conversations. 

“I'm not,” Ginny said. “I'm thinking about us.” 

Astoria let out a breath, shoulders sagging. She looked down, but Ginny waited, gaze steady, for Astoria to look back up at her. 

“It's late,” Astoria said after a moment. 

“I think I'm falling in love with you.”

Astoria closed her eyes, a slow frown twisting her sharp features. 

“I know.” It was barely a murmur. 

“I know you know,” Ginny said, a challenge. 

Astoria met her gaze, then, and Ginny's resolve wavered when she realised just how terrified Astoria was.

“Hey,” Ginny murmured, standing up. Astoria, lips trembling, buckled over to make room for her in the settee. “Hey, I'm sorry. I'm sorry—” 

“It's not your fault.” Even though her head was turned away from Ginny, Astoria leaned into her touch. “None of this is your fault. Draco is—” Her voice broke, and Ginny held her hand with both of hers, aching, yearning to hold Astoria in her arms and take the pain away. But she couldn't. “Draco is a wonderful man. He's attentive, and loving, and he's funny, and…”

A tear fell into Astoria's shirt over her tummy. 

“And he's my best friend. But he and I are not in love. We never have been.”

That caught Ginny off-guard. 

“Never?” 

Astoria laughed, a broken, pathetic sound. 

“Never. Our parents planned our union soon after I left Hogwarts. I was horrified at first, but after getting to know him, there was a time when I really thought I would fall in love with him in time. That he'd fall in love with me. And we did end up loving each other, mind you: he will always be my closest friend. It's just not…”

“Yeah,” Ginny said softly. “I understand.”

Astoria turned to look at her, then. Seeing her teared up made something inside Ginny snap, and she reached out, held Astoria's cheeks in her hands, thumbing at her messy tears. 

“Harry and I were in love for a long time, but… I think he knows just as well as I do that the love we feel now is purely platonic.” She smiled—chuckled. “In fact, a small part of me suspects whatever he feels for Draco right now is more intense than what he ever felt for me.” 

That tore a laugh out of Astoria. 

“I would not be surprised if that was the case. Those two…” She shook her head. “They're incorrigible.”

Ginny groaned in agreement. A moment later, though, her smile faded away and she was left with Astoria's face cradled in her hands. Their legs pressed together, their eyes searching the other's face. Scared, but hopeful. 

Sliding her hands down Astoria's neck and shoulders, and then squeezing her arms, Ginny let out a slow, deep breath. 

“I think we need to have a conversation with our husbands.”

***

“You… What?” 

To Harry's credit, he looked more baffled than anything else. 

“We're in love,” Astoria repeated, voice steady, but gaze pleading with Draco to understand. 

“I… Okay. Okay. Give me one second.” Harry turned around and sat down on the nearest chair. 

Draco remained still. As far as Ginny was aware, he’d barely even blinked since they'd started explaining the situation to them.

“Are you going to say anything?” Harry asked after a moment, turning to Draco. When Draco shook his head, gaze still fixed in some distant point in space, Harry stood again, leaning his weight against the table. “Okay, so first of all, this is all extremely awkward.” 

“We were aware of that much, thank you,” Astoria said. 

“I mean, both of you are pregnant. With our babies.” He gestured between him and Draco. “Not to mention that we're married, although that's slightly less permanent…” 

Draco huffed, and the three of them turned to him. When he didn't say anything, Harry continued. 

“But I guess it… makes sense? I mean—you two are sort of like… the perfect opposites, you know. I always knew you would get on well. I didn't suspect you'd get on this well, but, hey—” 

“Have you—” Draco's head seemed to be stuck mid-shake, eyes scrunched closed. “Have you done anything? With one another?” 

“No, darling.” The word sounded different, Ginny thought, when Astoria used it for Draco. “We were waiting to tell you.” 

He nodded, but didn't say anything else. When Astoria approached him, Ginny took a step back to give them some space and leaned into the table with Harry. 

“I love you,” she told him. 

“And I you,” Harry said, eyes low. Gulping, he took Ginny's hand in his. “But… I mean, I think both of us had noticed that something was… that something wasn't…” 

“I know.” She squeezed his hand. “I know.” 

He looked up at her, and Merlin, he looked so, so vulnerable in that moment that Ginny wished more than ever that she could love him the way he deserved to be loved. But that simply wasn’t for her to do.

“I still would like for us to raise our son together,” he murmured. 

“We will. Harry, I don't care what happens from now on. You're still my best friend, and you're still the father of my kid. Nothing is going to change that. Okay?” 

Harry nodded, and, biting his lip, turned his gaze to Draco and Astoria. After a moment, Ginny did too. 

Draco was crying. 

“Come on, let's give them some space,” she said, pushing herself off the table. Harry followed her out of the room. 

***

“Draco…”

No reply came. Harry looked at him, but Draco's gaze was fixed somewhere outside the car window. 

They'd spent countless hours inside that car, in that very watch post. Hours chatting, and bickering, and taking turns to sleep while the other watched the house for any signs of activity. 

It had never been awkward before now. 

“Look, we need to talk,” Harry said. Draco huffed, unamused. “We need to talk because we both know our wives are not the only ones who’d noticed something wasn’t right before yesterday’s conversation. They were just the only ones brave enough to be upfront about it.” 

In the moment it took Draco to turn around, Harry thought of Draco's head on his shoulder; of the way it had felt when Draco had fallen asleep there, of the way he'd been so careful not to let it fall so Draco wouldn't wake up. He thought of the way their arms brushed whenever they walked, wands in hand, toward a dangerous location. Thought of the very reason they'd been so adamant that their wives should come with them on this mission: a truth they'd refused to confront, and that had gone and slapped them in the face anyway. 

“Do you understand how terrifying this is for me?” Draco finally said, body turned to Harry, but gaze fixed on his knees. “To know that my life as I know it, as I always expected it to be, is over? Do you think”—he looked up at Harry, and Merlin, he looked so scared Harry had to hold back from reaching out to him—“that I haven't noticed that I'm in love with Harry Potter, and not with the woman I'm about to have a baby with?” 

Harry held his breath. Searched in Malfoy's eyes, desperately, for any hint that he was about to take back his words. Then, almost out of breath:

“I'm in love with you too.”

Draco let out a desperate laugh. 

“I know that, you bloody idiot,” he choked out. “Fuck, I know.”

Harry bit his lip. Reached out, rested a hand over Draco's trembling, fisted own. 

For a few moments, neither spoke. 

“I'm sorry,” Harry murmured eventually. “I'm sorry things can't be different.” 

Draco started playing with Harry's fingers, and Harry closed his eyes—marvelled in how warm Draco's hands felt. How careful they were even as he fidgeted. 

“I'm glad they told us,” Draco said. “I want Astoria to be happy, and I know she'd never be completely happy with me.” A sigh. “I wouldn't, either. Not with her. I just… I need some time to come to terms with it.” 

Harry's fingers turned and turned between Draco's nervous own. 

“That's okay. I don't mind waiting for you.”

Their eyes met. 

“Okay,” Draco said. 

Harry squeezed his hand. Smiled. 

“Okay.”

***

The whoosh of the hearth letting someone through was quickly followed by two high-pitched squeals. By two very excited cries of, “Daddy!” 

Harry smiled to himself when he heard Draco's laughter coming from the living room as he—presumably—was tackled to the floor by Albus and Scorpius. 

“Boooys,” Harry called after a moment. “Come grab some cookies from the kitchen!” 

A few seconds later, the two five-year-old tornadoes were rushing toward the tray, barely sparing Harry a glance. Harry shook his head, grinning. 

“Where's my hug?” 

“Daddy!” Albus, face already full of crumbs, ran toward Harry's arms. “Your cookies are the best!” 

“Mmh!” Scorpius agreed. 

“I'm glad you like them.” Harry ruffled Al's hair. “Do save some for later, though!” 

Draco walked in, grabbed a cookie. “How are your mums?” he asked while he gave Harry a sonorous kiss on the cheek, the crumbs on Draco’s mouth scratching against his stubble. 

Harry was about to complain when Albus stretched his arms out, asking to be picked up. 

“They have a date today,” he—quite loudly—whispered in Harry's ear. 

“Do they, now!” 

“A date in a restawant with candles and a lot of different forks,” Albus explained. “And—and they were wearing really pretty dresses!” 

“Really? What colour?” Draco asked, picking Scorpius up too. 

“Mum's was red,” Scorpius said. “And mummy's was, uh, it was really pretty, and—” 

“And sparkly!” Albus squealed. “Black and sparkly!” 

“Wow! I don’t think Draco and I own anything so pretty!” Harry turned to Draco. “What do you think?” 

“Hmmm…” Draco dragged the sound out, sharing a mischievous look with Scorpius. “I’m not sure… I think we might have some sparkly garments hidden in the back of our wardrobe, but I’m sure Al and Scorp won’t be interested in—”

“We want to see!” Scorpius screamed, wiggling in his father’s arms. 

“We want to see, we want to see!” Albus chanted.

Harry and Draco shared a smile. 

“Very well, then,” Draco said solemnly, setting Scorpius down. “Let’s see which of you can find the prettiest clothes in our bedroom for us to wear today.” 

The kids darted upstairs, and, before following them, Harry took Draco’s hand in his and kissed his husband’s cheek in return.

[malfoys-demigod]

“She is no longer a proud Slytherin to me.” D.M x Reader

Request from @the--queen-of-hell​

-> OOOOH GURL.Hear me out. This isn't a request but if you like it feel free to use this!So, in the events of TDH, when the trio is taken to the manor, let's say reader is caught with them and brought to the manor. She's a slytherin but she fights against Voldemort..But she is also in a secret relationship with our beautiful Draco.So, Bellatrix tells the goons to take them all to the dungeon, including reader.Draco says that HE will be the one to take them, just so he can make sure that reader is fine.He tries his best to be convincing that he HATES them, so he grabs reader and pushes her around til they're in the dungeon.Omce theyre there, Draco starts worrying about her and asks her if he's hurt her, if she's okay... And while she reassures him that she is fine he pulls her close to him and presses a soft kiss on her forehead 🥺🥺🥺🥺BUT every one in the dungeon can see that, but he doesn care. HE WANTS HIS LOVE SAFE AND ALIVE. So he promises to help her...and the others... Escape.They both survive, and live happily together forever 🥺💚

Summary: During the Deathly Hallows, Y/N and the Golden Trio are being brought to the one place she wished to see on any other occasion, Malfoy Manor, to be held captive by Bellatrix and the Malfoys. Will Draco keep his guard and pretend he doesn’t care for you? Or will he save the person he loves the most in his life?

Word Count: 5.5k 

A/N: I finally made this request! Thank you so much, for this lovely request. 

Taglist: @the--queen-of-hell​ @bbeauttyybbx​

There was an immeasurable secret that you have been deeply pledging to yourself to keep until the moment was right to let it all out. On no occasion was there a moment in time where you could shout it to the skies and feel as free as a bird. For the last six years, on no account has there ever been a moment where you could make it known that you were the secret girlfriend of Draco Lucius Malfoy. During this evil time of seventh year, perhaps the secret would stay forever to your heart, should the plan not go as expected for Team Harry. 

There were times when you couldn’t stand keeping the secret. Seeing other couples, freely expressing their love to each other. The adorable yet minimal displays of affections that lovebirds could do with each other started to eat you up inside as the years flew by as you started to blossom into a young adult. 

While you watched the simple things such as someone leaning down on their lover’s shoulder as a smile crept under their soft and light faces as the other held them tightly, squeezing the love out, you were sitting alone, with your friends, who probably had the same situation going, or didn’t happen to care about the things you were watching as you sat as far away from the one person you could be doing the things you were watching. 

But, no. 

You couldn’t watch a quidditch game with heart-shaped eyes as your favorite seeker flew from left to right, up and down. 

You couldn’t agree to go on a date to Hogsmeade with any other boy, as you tried giving the most bizarre reasons that you could think of, letting all the boys assume that you were clearly uninterested in a romantic relationship during your Hogwarts life. 

You couldn’t travel down to Malfoy Manor over the holidays, knowing you wouldn’t even receive a gift at home. sent from the Manor you dreamed of visiting. 

You couldn’t shout that you were in love with Draco Malfoy. 

Despite deeply knowing that it was highly unlikely to go public with the man you love, there have been times wherein you just couldn’t take it anymore. You knew how much this secret should be kept safe, but there were just times where it drove you out of your mind, wherein, yes, you knew, but you just weren’t in the right state of mind. 

FLASHBACK

During the evening of Valentine’s day, every student, whether single or taken, were all having pleasant meals in the Great Hall. Love was truly in the air for most people. The moment the day had started, it was like everyone inhaled love potions created by who knows, as the day was considered a jolly and carefree day for all. 

Smiles were growing from everyone’s faces as they either watched adorable couples hold hands, or be in the position of those couples, smiling as wide as possible as it was a day truly made for them. 

This day could have been for you as well if the world knew of your romantic relationship with Draco. 

Oh, the countless romantic things he could have done for you. He had never dated anyone seriously before but the secret flirting he had experienced with you could already explain how much of a suave and gentleman he could be. 

So, as you watched couples playfully spoon feed each other and make tiny messes during the process, you internally groaned, resting your head on your cupped palm as your elbow placed some weight on the table. 

You had finished only half of your dinner as everything about Valentine’s day had made you lose your appetite. Spending the day pretending to be something that you weren’t, felt like any other day that you have been going through for years. Today just made things more difficult for you since these couples were expressing their love more freely, making you yearn for the things they could do. 

Sick and feeling more hopeless than usual, you slowly stood up from your table, dragging your eyes and feet away from every couple that you dreamed of being as you attempted to nonchalantly exit the Great Hall as if nothing bothered you. 

This attempt was a complete failure through the sneaky eyes of Draco Malfoy who was silently watching you from the ends of the Slytherin table. He had been observing you quietly from his side of the Slytherin table, noticing and feeling the emotions from inside of you. 

Ever since this morning, you had been utterly quiet during classes, either staring at people you didn’t know, or trying to get the sight of those people out of your head as you were focusing in class with an uncomfortable expression.

This obviously led to realizing that it was about the little holiday that lovers were currently celebrating. He knew that there were times when you wanted to shout to the world that you were proudly and madly in love with him. He felt the same, but he was more controlling of himself, not expressing to you that he wanted to do the same thing. 

During meal time in the Great Hall, he came in early, and once you entered, he could already sense the emotions boiling in your system as you slumped on the table, looking like the saddest person in the castle as you tried ignoring your friends or giving them short answers if they tried talking to you. 

As you ate, you tried giving yourself the slowest bites, giving more attention and focus on the deep thoughts you were thinking about. These deep thoughts led you to not finishing the remaining half of your plate and got you to abruptly stand up from the table and exit the Great Hall, being the first one to end her meal time. 

Draco obviously wanted to follow. He counted to a good ten seconds in order not to seem suspicious about following you out of the Great Hall. When ten seconds were over, he told his gang not to follow him as he had, ‘the bad stomach.’ Knowing that nobody wanted to hear that while they were eating, they told him to rush out, telling him not to worry about it. 

When he stood up, he watched his own actions as he smoothly briskly walked out of the Great Hall, hoping to catch up with the girl of his dreams. If he had the Astronomy tower to hide and let out his emotions, you had the Black Lake. 

You were staring at your sad reflexion by the waters of the Black Lake. It was cold outside but this didn’t matter to you anymore as the sadness had clouded your mind and body. 

Watching your reflection by the waters was something you only did when you were either sad or in deep thinking. Tonight you were both. 

You crept down, touching the water with a single finger, causing a ripple that made small movements, resulting in your reflection to move as well. Usually this would make you grow a smile on your face but you were too sad to do that. 

Sighing, you said, “When will this end?” You asked yourself. 

Then, a platinum blonde hair had started creeping up behind your reflection, standing behind you with a small smile. “When this is all over, you know that.” 

You stood up, turning around to see your boyfriend Draco remove his Slytherin scarf from his neck, “Wouldn’t want to see you freezing, love.” He said, wrapping the scarf around your neck gently. 

“I can’t wear this forever, you know people will know, the green apple scent, the fact that I didn’t leave my dorm with a scarf, everything.” You declined the gesture, unwrapping the scarf from your neck. 

As you were doing this, Draco frowned, placing his hands on your neck to prevent you from completely removing the scarf from your neck. “Wear it for now, please, we’re still outside.”

“I won’t be for long,” you said, removing his hands from your neck as you completely removed the scarf, something he tried avoiding, as you were prepared to leave the scene. 

Draco stepped to the side, guarding you from leaving him as he looked at you with a careful look on his face. “You’re here for a reason, and I would like to know why.” 

“It’s nothing, I just wanted some fresh air.” 

“If I’m not mistaken, dear, I think I heard you ask yourself when this secret of ours would end. Correct?”

“No, because technically I didn’t say that. You don’t know if the question is under the same context as what I was thinking.” 

“What else could you be asking yourself what would end? Our relationship?” Draco asked, pouting, knowing that you wouldn’t dare question that. 

“Of course not, you fool,” you rolled your eyes, “Okay so maybe I might have been asking when keeping our secret could come to an end. So, what? I always ask this.” 

Draco crossed his arms, giving you a smirk as he knew the reason why you were being so odd today. You looked at him with a confused look, wondering why he was smirking. 

“But it’s not always Valentine’s Day.” He truthfully said, catching you off guard as your eyes widened, seeing that Draco had gotten the answer right. 

You sighed, looking down at your shoes, “I just can’t stand how we could have been spending our time together like every lovebird today. I can’t stand how we have to keep us a secret.” 

Draco slightly frowned, knowing exactly how you felt. He placed his hands on your shoulders, tilting his head for you to see his face despite looking down at the ground. 

“Y/N/N, my dear, look at me,” he begged, making you look up at him with a sad face, “We’re starting to live in mad times. You know that. Once everything is all over, we can live our lives freely. Hang on right, okay? This is going to be some bumpy road along the way. As long as you keep your faith in us, we will get there. Can you be a patient little lovebird for me?”

You playfully rolled your eyes after hearing him call you a ‘little lovebird’ but still nodded in agreement, making Draco chuckle and smile at your response, saying, “That’s my girl,” then placed a small and quick kiss on your forehead. “Happy Valentine’s Day, love.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Draco.” You greeted back. Then turned around to see some students leave the Great Hall and enter the corridors despite being a little bit far away from the castle. “Would you mind if I left first to not make anything suspicious?”

“Of course, ladies first, dear.” He said, encouraging you to walk away. “See you around, you know I’ll keep an eye on you from afar, yeah?”

“Always,” you smiled, then turned around, running off to the castle, pretending that nothing happened, which slowly broke your heart a little bit. 

Draco huffed in sadness as he realizes he had to do the same thing when it was his turn to leave the lake and return to his dorm. “We’ll get there,” he muttered to himself. 

From there on, Draco and you had continued keeping the secret, whether either of you were weak to your knees or capable of being as strong as possible. 

Through your ups and downs, the both of you had managed to have sealed lips every day. To make things easier, Draco had set up more secret meetings with you, to keep the love in the air as strong as possible. 

These secret meetups were either in the Astronomy Tower, the Black Lake, or any secret place that nobody was seen occupying or passing through frequently. These times together were the only times you could express actual love to the person you pretended to see as a stranger. 

Unfortunately, the battle between You-Know-Who and Harry Potter only became more intense than ever during your seventh year. This tension between the two of them had been going on for quite some time and the actual battle had to come sooner or later, and it did arrive, during your final year at Hogwarts. 

You couldn’t imagine how badly things ended up for it was a traumatic experience for you and Draco to be in different teams of the battle, challenging the relationship the two of you had shared for the last few years. 

When the tension had risen during the first of seventh year, Draco had secretly told you that this was the ultimate thing the two of you had prepared for mentally, emotionally, and physically. Forget the secret meet ups, forget the jealousy of wanting to be like other couples, forget it. 

There was no time for either of you to hold each other tightly while the battle went on. Despite being a pureblood Slytherin, you went your separate ways as you were with the Golden Trio, fighting against You-Know-Who. 

So there you were in the dark night along with the Golden Trio as fellow death-eaters had grabbed a hold of the four of you as they forced you into walking towards the place that you had always wanted to visit in your life. 

Malfoy Manor. 

This was certainly not the way you had wanted your first visit in your boyfriend’s house to be like but what could you do? You would rather go insane and be sent to Azkaban than become a death-eater and hold the most gruesome meetings in Malfoy Manor, serving the Dark Lord himself in plotting against Harry Potter and Hogwarts. 

As you were taking a look of the Manor you had once dreamt of, there seemed to be a figure by the gates, jumping happily and crazily as the figure had seen a glimpse of four teenagers walking towards the gates with death-eaters. 

“Woo-hoo!,” said the voice in a high-pitched manner, “Walk faster, I’d like to see the look on their precious faces.” 

Getting closer to the gates, you saw Bellatrix Lestrange as her whole outfit from top to bottom was all in black. Her hair seemed to be the messiest hair you had ever seen, looking as if she hasn’t had the experience of brushing it properly, only to make it as messy as possible. 

With her hand sticking out of the gate, she pointed at Harry, who was to your left. The death-eater dealing with him smirked and forcefully pushed Harry towards the gates where Bellatrix grabbed him by the shirt. 

She scanned up quickly, as her eyes flew up and down Harry, grinning crazily as possible, probably thinking of something horrible to do with him. She let out a small laugh, “Get. Draco.” she whispered, making Hermione grunt in anger as she tried removing the tight grip the death dealer assigned to her had on the girl. 

Your eyes widened upon hearing the familiar name that she had mentioned. It was only a matter of time for Draco to appear in this situation. After all, this was his house, so it was obvious that he had to be there. 

As Harry was still up-close in front of the maniac Bellatrix, the madwoman extended her arm, holding a tight grip on Harry’s shirt, followed by the death-eaters who were doing the same to you, Hermione, and Ron, tightening their grips on the three of you as they watched Bellatrix nod, giving them a signal they had been prepared to do. 

You were all apparated into the interior of Malfoy Manor. It was quite uneasy after being apparated for the first time. You stumbled a bit, causing to lose balance but gained it in a few seconds as your eyes were now making themselves familiar with the new surroundings you were in. 

Scanning around the unfamiliar manor, there was a grand white fireplace that had no fire in it, there were tables, and other furniture placed by the sides, giving the whole middle area of the room enough space to move around freely. 

This must have been the lively living room that Draco had mentioned to you before. 

Speaking of Draco…

As Bellatrix had pushed Harry down to the floor, grunting and breathing in pain, there happened to be a group of footsteps, casually walking towards you and the rest of the captives. Despite not looking up yet to see the faces of the people who were walking towards you, you exhaled nervously, knowing the possibility of knowing one of the owners of one of the footsteps. 

Carefully, you looked up to see Draco Malfoy, now standing tall in front of you, wearing his trademark of an outfit. He was wearing his black suit gracefully as his parents were wearing the same color, so was Bellatrix. His eyes were on you for a second, and it seemed like there was a mixture of fear and anger as he gave you a quick look. 

Holding himself properly, he then turned his view to Harry as Bellatrix aggressively pulled him up, now kneeling and still breathing in pain. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were too looking at the boy who lived, judging him with such distaste and superiority as if their lives depended on it. They motioned the death-eaters of Hermione and Ron to pull them to their side, pushing them to the other side of the room. 

Forgetting to wonder why they didn’t have you pulled to the other side as well, your eyes were still glued on Draco despite the fact that he was now looking at Harry with the same judgemental eyes as his parents, but there was only a small hint of nervousness or confusion in him. 

Bellatrix started to grow impatient as the Malfoy’s were just staring at the person she had been holding tightly. “Well?” she reminded, pushing herself to continue with the smile she had on her face. 

Draco scanned Harry, up and down quickly, “I can’t be sure,” he shakily replied to his aunt. 

“Draco,” Lucius warned him, walking towards him as he held him by the neck, shaking him slightly as Draco looked uncomfortable with the situation, causing himself to look down to the ground, “Look closely.” 

Then Lucius turned back to Narcissa for a quick second, then back to Draco, still holding him in the neck, “If we want to hand Potter to the Dark Lord, everything will be forgiven! We will all be as it was, don’t you understand?” he pleaded with Draco, trying to get a nod from his son, who only could give a small shaky nod as he was looking closely yet terrifyingly at his father. 

“Now we won’t be forgetting who actually caught him, I hope, Mr. Malfoy?” said one of the death eaters with an insulting attitude. 

Lucius didn’t bother look to see who had insulted him as he looked away, scolding, “Don’t you dare talk to me like that in MY OWN HOUSE-”

Narcissa rushed to her family’s side, holding his husband, pleading, “Lucius,” she whispered, managing to hold and walk him a few steps backwards, leaving a more terrified Draco, inhaling and exhaling quicker. 

You were desperately holding yourself from going to him, comforting him and telling him that everything was going to be alright even though the chances of that were really difficult to talk about at the moment since you were now in the hardest situation in your life so far. ‘

But Bellatrix spoke before you could think more about Draco, “Don’t be shy, sweetie,” she encouraged her nephew, having him walk slowly closer to her and Harry, “Come over,” 

Draco knelt down, closing some space between him and Harry, feeling uncomfortable. 

“Now, if this isn’t who you think it is and we call him, he’ll kill us ALL. We need to be absolutely sure.”

Draco analyzed the boy in front of him, seeming slightly confused aside from being overly terrified. “What’s wrong with his face?”

“Yes! What IS wrong with his face?” Bellatrix asked, sounding actually curious. 

“He came to us like that,” spoke a death eater, “Something he picked up in the forest.”

“Right,” Bellatrix whispered to herself, then turned around to Hermione and Ron, “Was it you two?” she pointed at them with her wand. The two of them remained silent, watching Bellatrix carefully as they were still being held tightly by the death eaters. 

Draco’s eyes were now glancing at you, now that Bellatrix wasn’t able to see that his attention was now on you. He remained the same, just looking at you heavily as if he was trying to mentally tell you something. You looked at quietly, with soft eyes as if you wanted to tell him, ‘Oh, Draco’ with a sigh. 

But seeing that the two of them did not give her an answer, she turned back to you, as you were still by Harry’s side. “Or how about you, dear Y/L/N?”

Surprised, you asked, “You know me?”

“Course I do, little miss Y/L/N, pureblood Slytherin, daughters to respected death eaters who I’d pay good galleons to see the looks on their faces if they were here to see how disappointed and embarrassed they’d be if they were in the same room with their selfish little blood traitor daughter of theirs!”

Embarrassed but at the same time angered at the words coming from her mouth, you silently looked down to the ground, muttering to yourself that you needed to keep yourself together from lashing out and making things worse. You held your words from coming from your mouth, closing your mouth strongly. 

There was a slight angered emotion in Draco’s eyes as he was pained to hear what his aunt said about you. If this was like any normal day, he would hex a nasty spell at whoever dared say something cruel to the nicest person he had in his life. Still kneeling down facing Potter, Draco slowly started removing his wand, trying to stop the temptation of hexing that spell on his aunt. 

Thinking that Draco was pulling his wand for other reasons, Bellatrix happened to have a lightbulb switch on above her head, giving her an excellent idea. 

“Give me a wand,” she said, now looking at Hermione, “I wanna see what her last spell was,” she demanded. 

Hermione turned around stiffly, watching Bellatrix walk past her, as she was in the process of getting a wand. Bellatrix started laughing, pointing at Hermione, “Ah, got you!” 

She continued laughing again, taunting Hermione, as she looked so happy to see that all was going well again now. The smile on her face eventually dropped when she looked forward, seeing what was in front of her with a shock on her face. 

“What’s that?” she asked in curiosity mixed with fear. 

She was looking at a sword, which was held by a death eater, who seemed not so scared yet nonchalant about his situation. 

“Where’d you get that from?”

“It was in her bag, when we searched her,” he truthfully replied, “Reckon it’s mine now.”

Without hesitation in her system, Bellatrix waved her wand, vanishing the death eater that had been holding the sword, as it was now in her hands. Hastily, she then choked the two other death eaters with the wave of her wand, putting them in fear. 

You were also in fear yourself just by witnessing the madness your boyfriend’s aunt had in her. The Golden trio as well were also watching with terror in their eyes, not knowing what to do as they were standing, frozen like an ice sculpture. 

“Get out!,” Bellatrix demanded, showing the death eaters that she had choked, away from the living room. They were limping, trying to get away as fast as they could. 

“Sissy,” she said, walking past by her sister who was pointing her wand at the two, to make sure that they wouldn’t do anything as Bellatrix was now walking towards her. Bellatrix held Ron’s shirt tightly, as he looked at her with fright in his eyes since we were ever so close to Bellatrix, “Put the boys in the cellar!” she demanded. 

Narcissa followed her sister’s command, pushing Ron and now Harry to death eaters who were about to show them the way to the cellars. 

Bellatrix went to Hermione, “I’ll have a little conversation with this one,” she said, “Girl to girl!” she shouted, giving off the same closeness as what she did with Ron. 

Thinking Bellatrix had forgotten about you, you looked at Draco for a fast second, who looked at you back with suspense, knowing exactly what you were about to do. He tried giving you small, pleading eyes, trying not to be obvious, but mentally begging you to not do what he thinks you’re about to do didn’t work. You shook off the death eater that was still holding you, walking right to Bellatrix. 

“I don’t think so, Bellatrix,” you warned her, which made the death eaters assigned to Harry and Ron stop from bringing them to the cellar. “You’ll have to include me in this little conversation of yours before you could lay a hand on my friend.”

Feeling like she was threatened, Bellatrix turned to you with such rage in her eyes. She raised her wand, preventing you from walking closer to her, “Uh, uh, uh,” she warned you, causing you to stop walking, “Stay where you are, Y/L/N, you’re welcome to join our conversation, that is, before I-”

“That’s enough of this monstrosity!” Draco demanded.

Bellatrix lowered her wand slightly from you, looking slightly surprised that her nephew found the courage to actually speak now, since he was quite quiet earlier. 

“Is there a problem, Draco?”

Draco nodded, looking at you with wrath, “Of course there is, it’s the audacity of this blood-traitor to talk to you in such a bloody way.” he said, pointing at you with such disgust. 

Bellatrix flashed a proud smile at her nephew, placing her wand down to give a nod in agreement, “Why, you’re absolutely right, dear, Draco!” she said, playing around as she walked towards him to pat him in the back, “I suppose you can agree that she deserves a proper lesson from me?” 

“Let me handle that for you, aunt.” he replied, giving Bellatrix a mischievous smirk, “I am far more disgusted to be in the same room as this blood-traitor. I stopped considering her an ally and a person worthy of respect and prestigiousness the moment she decided to humiliate her proud, well-known name. She is no longer a proud Slytherin to me.”

“Oh?” Bellatrix asked, letting out a fake gasp as she looked at your ‘hurtful’ face. 

“You have no right-” you were interrupted when Draco advanced forward, pushing you as his grip was now on your arm, “Shut up, blood-traitor,” he scolded, “They are all going down to the cellar on my command now. I will teach them all a lesson.” 

Draco thought he successfully won the argument as he started motioning for you and the boys to move when Bellatrix yelped an, “Ah!” 

Everyone including you and Draco turned around to see that Bellatrix was holding onto Hermione, who looked like she was whimpering in internal fear. 

“I believe this mudblood and I are going to have a conversation, the rest of the blood-traitors can go with you, Draco.” she held Hermione now in the shoulder, waving away Draco and the death-eaters. 

“Very well,” he nodded, “Onto the cellars, you filthy rats.” he said, pushing you. 

While walking away from the living room, you managed to turn around to give Hermione an encouraging look on your face as she was now about to have a little conversation with one of the most psychotic wizards alive. 

She tried giving you the same encouraging look considering that you too, were about to go through some serious things as well. Although, something told you that with Draco’s stellar performance of pretending to despise you, you were going to be taken cared of well. 

So you gave Hermione another facial expression before turning back, it was a slight frown at her, realizing that you were leaving a good friend of yours in serious trouble while you were probably saved from that kind of treatment. 

The short trip to the cellar was quite quiet on your hand. Harry and Ron were speaking of horrible things about Draco to each other, knowing perfectly well that Draco could hear them. 

Walking down to the cellars, Draco looked at the death eaters handling the boys and nodded, “I can take it from here.” 

They simply nodded, walking back up the stairs to return to living room. Draco painterly waited for them to be out of sight as his eyes were watching the shadows of the death eaters starting to vanish. 

When their shadows were long gone, Draco let out a huge sigh, dropping the superior aura he had been carrying all day long as he slouched, opening his arms to envelope you tightly into a massive hug. 

“Oh, my dear, my dear, I missed you!” He confessed. 

You hugged him back, rubbing his back as he started inhaling and exhaling with such pace. “I missed you more, Draco, are you alright?” You asked, pulling away from him, cupping his face with one hand. 

He smiled, raising his hand to hold your hand which was softly rubbing his cheek now. “I’m not the same without you. I could ask you the same, please, are you hurt?” He sounded so cautious, looking at you, up and down to scan if you were alright. 

“I’ve had better days,” you joked, causing him to smile. 

“I know,” he said, “But honestly, my love, I have missed you. I couldn’t stop thinking of every worse situation that could have happened to you. Every night, I pray to Merlin, asking him to keep you safe and alive. I-I have nightmares of you, getting hurt, and not being able to save you, and it pains me, Y/N, I can’t lose you, okay? I’m so fortunate that you’re here alive. I would be so lost without you, I don’t think I could keep this up anymore had I known you were gone.” 

You felt like your heart had just melted as your-not-so-secret boyfriend confessed his love to you in front of the most important people of the battle. If you could see your exact reaction to what Draco had just said, it was like the most sincere puppy eyes you could give him. It was like you were about to tear up and wail like a pained animal. 

Placing your hands on your cheeks, you melted, “Aw, Draco,” 

Draco, without thinking twice, pulled you in, closing the space between the two of you as he hugged you even more tighter than the first hug you gave each other just a few seconds ago. He rubs your back this time, softly stroking it carefully as he remained silent, knowing it was your turn to confess your feelings to him. 

“I don’t want you to ever think about the worse things happening to me, okay? We will get through this together. We are a team, remember? It’s just you and me forever, Draco. I think about you every second of my life and I will never stop doing that because you and I are meant to be, forever. We need to continue watching each other’s backs, okay? We’re the only way we can keep going in life. When I’m far away from you, just remember I’m always in your heart. You got that, Dray?”

“Mhm,” he replied, covering his face on your shoulder, to hide the emotions he was displaying from Harry and Ron, who were shockingly witnessing a relationship that was kept a secret for years and now had gone public. 

Pulling away, he wrapped one arm around you, so he could turn to the shocked Harry and Ron and quietly said, “I will help all of you,” he muttered, “I will help all of you escape.” 

“Thank you, Malfoy,” Harry whispered, giving a nod of respect to Draco, who looked at you with a small smile on his face. 

This was certainly not the ideal way to publicly reveal yourselves as a couple but the love couldn’t keep you and Draco Malfoy from hiding the secret another minute or two longer. The separation the two of you had ever since the battle had started getting more intense had made it harder for the two of you to see each other, or even communicate by owl. 

Seeing each other after such a long time made it very clear that it was time to show everyone what they have been missing for years as the two of you had let go of the very secret you both swore to keep shut until it was the right time. 

Smiling, you looked up to see your boyfriend seem very eager with his word. Knowing that you were looking at him, he turned to you with a relieved smile. He slightly towered down with his head, kissing you in the forehead, which made you giggle slightly, knowing that he enjoyed giving you small forehead kisses. 

Perhaps sometimes love can be unpredictable when it comes to time.

[dnfshield]

okay im posting my first and most important syndicate!dream propaganda !! if people are interested ill def post the rest

and because I'm delusional all of this hinges on that I want dream to actually be upset and brocken 💔🥀 and desperately needing help and not wanting to let anyone help him because connections bad blah blah but I know cc dream doesn't have the range and is also a coward so I have to do everything for him 

its under a read more bc its 1.4k words lmao

I think it takes dream a while to process being out of prison even though he should be taking advantage of his new freedom and new space. he spends a lot of time in his room just laying in his blankets or curled up under his bed or memorizing all the shelves of stuff techno left in the spare room. And philza and techno silently agree to make sure dream is getting socialization - knowing that he desperately needs the connection but is unsure how to go back to being ALLOWED to be around others. So they take turns going to his room at night and just finding literally anything to do in his presence. Phil likes to read the old books techno left in there. And when he sees dream peeking over he'll mutter something about how ""reading it out helps me think"" and will quietly read allowed to dream. Or he'll go sit at the desk with a creaky chair and write letters to the woman he loves, gushing over memories and sharing snippets of stories to dream. Phil sits there with a dopey smile and blushy cheeks and dream sits there letting his words sink in - knowing too late that he should never have convinced himself that pushing everyone he loved would somehow save him. 

Technos more pacey- he likes to go in there and ""reorganize"" the miscellaneous objects he left in what was supposed to be a storage space turned bedroom. Sometimes it's stacks of pages ripped from old journals sometimes it's failed blueprints and plans sometimes it's old potion bottles that definitely got left a little too long and should NOT be opened - but whatever it is techno will grab it and ramble on about what he was thinking what he was planning why it didn't work and scramble to find an excuse as to why he's chosen to hoard whatever the object is rather than throw it away like a normal person. But dream just sits there and listens and asks questions or asks to hold whatever it is - honestly whatever he can do to keep techno from going to bed and leaving him in his room alone. 

Lol okay the actual real important one that started all this is that dream eventually starts outwardly showing signs of distress when alone. At first he reeled when others would try to be around him. He still dealt with the conditioning of never being allowed to have regular visitors and being told everyone he ever knew wanted him dead. But once he realized Phil and techno were not only safe to be around but were happy to be around him he couldn't get enough of them. Dream lingers in the kitchen while philza cooks them all breakfast. He follows techno around while he haphazardly goes through chests looking for a specific enchanting book. He cracks his window so he can hear techno and philza laughing together while they sharpen their weapons on the porch :*) . And on especially bad days where something reminds him of the scorching lava flow or he gets turned around in a space too suffocatingly small he waits up because he knows philza or techno will come and wait with him at night. 

And it's the evening that sam knocks on their door that sends dream into overdrive. The second techno opens the door and philzas eyes fall on Sam's armour Phil places a gentle hand on dreams back and ushers him to his room. Techno stands with his frame in the door physically keeping a barrier in-between sam and their home and eventually gets Sam to begrudgingly leave. But when philza goes to check on dream before bed it's obvious dream sat there listening to techno and Sam yell and threaten each other over his life. So Phil skips whatever ploy to keep dream company that he had planned and just sits on his bed with him. He doesn't even say anything besides the classic "it's alright please don't be scared" and "he's not taking you away from here" and "you're safe here, with us, you're safe with me and techno" and blah blah and with every passing whisper dream just drifts closer and lets philza be there with him and philza let's dream lean against him because he knows how badly dream needs the comfort and he's more than happy to be there for him ( -sobs- can philza become a better dad in canon we could've have had it all ) . God okay and finally the important part all of this had been leading up to 

And after sitting there and letting dream lean on his shoulder and dodging dreams pleas to tell him how techno got sam off their property dream eventually quiets down. Every time dream stirs to break the silence philza squeezes his arm and let's him settle closer. Dream can barely keep his eyes open but when Phil tries to say goodnight and shift to stand up dreams eyes shoot open and asks if Phil's actually going to leave for the night because a million things are running through his mind. What if Sam only left to not cause a scene and plans to return after the others go to bed and take him with no one there to protect him. What if Sam only left to tell everyone where he is and return with a mob filled with the people dream himself made hate him. What if techno made a deal with sam - to return with diamonds or precious items in exchange to step aside and let dream he hauled away. But Phil only smiles softly and tells him that he's just gonna move to a new spot and dream just sits there and watches Phil settle at the headboard. Dreams eyes follow Phil's hand as he pats his stomach to becken dream to come lay down. Like okay guys please hear me out so dream settles with his head on philzas stomach kinda surrounded by Phil's legs like a little nest :-( while Phil just tells dream to relax and get some sleep. Phil's hand is a weight on his back and dreams just kinda melts. And as dream finally let's himself wind down he thanks Phil for being there with him. philza takes in a breath and whispers "of course" and after a silent beat as if saying it out loud would bring him back in time he tells dream "me and wilbur used to do this when he was younger"

And dream just tells him that he's sorry and that if he "could go back and change it he'd give anything, sorry for letting it go so far with wilbur" and philza tells him that he "knows wilbur is sorry too" and he knows how mentally unwell wilbur got and that he "wished he'd checked up after the letters stopped sooner" and dream doesn't want philzas to blame himself there's nothing he could have done to stop what wilbur and dream had started between each other but there's nothing dream could say to make philza understand that. So he just tangles a fist in philzas shirt and hopes a "none of this is your fault" in an exasperated voice will convey that enough. He gives philzas one more thank you for being here and with philzas hand tracing little movements on his back dream finally feels safe enough to drift off. Lol lol lol ooooooo okay

:*) Loool what if techno used to have a weekly routine of weapon care like just keeping them clean and sharpened and polished. but after he rescues dream from his isolation and torment from quackity, technos sitting in the living room and goes to grab his axe and dream starts panicking and immediately goes to apologizing and begging techno to tell him what he did wrong and promises he'll try better next time (even tho he didn't do anything :-( ) and techno does his best to assure him he didn't do anything, that he's doing perfectly fine and even if something came up his first instinct would not in fact be to pull an axe out on him and techno puts his stuff away and they just sit together :-( after philza gets home he and techno talk and agree it would be best they keep the weapons out of site unless it's absolutely necessary.

theyre sitting like this L