#so he wants to be stronger?? idk this is really just a crack idea in my head

[miusato]

This is why I shouldn't be near any media because I will find a way to put my ship into different clothes and possibly in different au 😤😤😤

[imadhatt3r]

I can't stop thinking about Koujaku's name and sparrow motif...

So his name means "red sparrow"; And I'd imagine that he was most likely named by his mother. I don't think his father had much of a presence in his early life, and besides, I feel like a violent yakuza leader would want his son to have a more "powerful" sounding name. So it was probably his mom's choice.

I feel like she must've loved sparrows if she named her son after them. I can see her going out to parks and gardens just to see them, and taking older Koujaku with her to feed them too. They were always so cute and cheerful, so they always managed to lift her spirits whenever she was worried about her pregnancy, her partner, or future in general, so she decided to name her son after them, because she wanted him to lead life with the same qualities she saw in these birds: She wanted him to be joyful, resiliant, adaptable, and always surrounded by loving and like-minded people (since sparrows live in large groups). He was her little birdie since birth... 😭

I think that Koujaku grew fond of sparrows too, through seeing how much his mother loved them. Maybe that's why he wears a kimono with sparrows and picked Beni (a sparrow) as his AllMate. I can see him putting out a small bowl with grains on his windowstill to get some sparrows to come, like he used to do with his mom when they went to feed them, but with mixed results (sometimes they come and sometimes they don't).

Aoba picks up on it too; Whenever he's out doing deliveries and he spots a flock of sparrows foraging in a patch of grass or drinking and bathing out of a puddle, he takes a photo on his coil and sends it over to Koujaku, usually with some silly caption he comes up with on the spot. He absent-mindedly picks up any sparrow-themed knicknacks to give to Koujaku, all of which are deeply treasured and loved- if they're something like post-it notes, there's a guarantee that they'll never be used, and they will be lovingly stored in a drawer untill the end of times. Aoba actually bought an extra set of post-it notes and a pen with a sparrow-themed topper to keep at his desk at Hum-Drum.

This is more of a sidenote, but I always imagined Koujaku's mother as a rather short and frail woman, probably a bit shorter than Aoba, so the height difference between them now would be really big. I guess I was just touched by the image of Koujaku's mom cradling his head in her hands to have him look at her as she wipes away his tears with her thumbs... Her birdie's all grown up, but he'll always remain her little sparrow...

[gretagerwigsmuse]

but i kinda hope they catch us - anyway...

Summary: well, you both survived the gala. if only you can survive what bradley has in store for the post-game

OR five times

Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader (15.8k)

Warnings: 18+, explicit language, explicit sexual content (oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, p in v, dom/sub influence, discussions of subspace, and praise, rank, and degradation kink). listen she really internally rambles like...a lot about him and how much she loves him, so like idk. part of 'and even when we're wrong in every way, we come out the other side okay' part 1, part 1.5, part 2.1, part 2.2.1, part 2.2.2

You took a deep breath as you stared at your reflection in the bathroom mirror and tried to hype yourself up. Was it too much? Would he like it? Why were you so nervous?

Because, to be honest, it wasn’t something you’d typically wear - especially not in this color. But it matched your dress and your underwear - and Bradley had liked that just fine. Would he like this though? You fiddled with the bow securing the halter styler chemise behind your neck. 

He’d like it, he’d like it, he’d like - you liked it. 

You liked it and you thought you looked pretty and beautiful and sexy in it and because of that, you knew Bradley would like it, too. He would. He would. 

With a final fluff of your hair and check of your makeup, you adjusted your breasts in the white lace cups - you really could’ve done with the next size up, but it was too late now - and left the quiet sanctuary of the bathroom. You peeked your head around the hallway corner to see that Bradley was still on the patio, the sliding glass door just barely cracked open. 

Perfect.  

Darting around the room to dim the lights was only made slightly difficult by your heels, but they were part of the whole thing, the whole bit. You tapped your index finger against your chin, looking for anything amiss as you ran through your mental checklist. The extra set of sheets in the closet were ready to go - you hated having to sleep in messy sheets - there were water bottles within reach, and the lights were dimmed. 

Suddenly, you wished you had listened to Bradley and brought something stronger to drink from home. His scotch wasn’t exactly to your tastes, but you wanted something to give you a little liquid courage after the buzz from the champagne you’d drunk at the gala had mostly worn off about thirty minutes ago. You glanced outside - he was still sitting out there, his back to you, aimlessly scrolling through his phone. There was still time…

You turned back to the desk spanning almost half the wall of the room, flipped over one of the tumblers next to the ice bucket, and poured yourself two fingers of scotch. The face you made upon swallowing was probably the least attractive thing you’d done that night, but no one else had seen it, so it didn’t count. A smudge of your lipstick lined the rim of the glass, reminding you that you hadn’t blotted it when you reapplied. 

The tumbler made a solid thunk when you set it back down on the desk. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Bradley’s suit jacket discarded on the couch and an idea struck. The jacket didn’t exactly dwarf your frame even with two buttons fastened to hide what was underneath, but it did provide decent coverage and you figured he’d like it. 

He always liked stuff like that. 

The jacket smelled like his cologne and the cigar he had with Pete and weighed heavily on your chest with all the assorted medals and ribbons that Bradley had explained the significance of at one time or another with the one from earlier that evening the most prominent of them all. With a final deep breath, you crossed the small distance towards the sliding door. 

You slid it open further, so that your whole body would fit, and placed your hands on either side of the frame at shoulder height. With one leg relaxed and bent slightly at the knee, you simply said:

“Are you coming to bed, handsome?”

Bradley huffed out a laugh and glanced up from his phone. “That’s a new one - oh…”

You slinked over towards him and his legs instinctively widened so you could stand between them, while his hands slid up to rest on your hips over the jacket. 

“Was a little cold, had to throw this on for a bit.”

“Hmmm.” He looked up at you, a teasing smile on his face. “You decide to throw out all those ironclad morals of yours and join up?”

You tapped your chin twice with your index finger. “Maybe? Still waiting on the verdict for those war crimes trials…”

Bradley chuckled. “Don’t tell anyone, but you might be waiting a while…” His hands slipped underneath the jacket and brushed against the silk chiffon of your chemise. “Now what do we have here?”

He retracted his hands only to unfasten the two buttons previously keeping the jacket closed. 

“Do you like it?” Please like it.

“Maybe if I could see all of it I might have a better idea…” There was the slightest hint of teasing in his voice and his eyes were alight with mischief. 

You bit your lip and then sat down on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Be patient.”

The jacket slipped a little as you got situated, which gave Bradley a glimpse at the thick bow tied at the back of your neck and the top of the lace cups. 

He hummed and shifted in his seat, jostling you slightly. “Like I said earlier, I’ve been patient all night. Don’t think I can wait another second, kid…”

Slowly, Bradley’s hands crept up your sides, getting closer and closer to your breasts. He rubbed the silk between his thumb and index finger, not quite yet meeting your eye as he explored. 

Prior to your relationship, you hadn’t really worn lingerie outside of a cute bra and panty set for yourself. Granted, you had bought something more daring once for your ex-boyfriend, Jack, when the two of you had first started dating. But even though he had said all the right things, he had still practically torn the Fleur du Mal matching set off you, not taking any time to savor how the lace had looked against your skin or how prettily you had tied the bows. 

But Bradley? Bradley savored it. Every glimpse of your nipples peeking out through the lace cups, every brush of his hand against the silk, every pretty little bow he had to untie. He savored it - sometimes a little too much, leaving you whiny and panting and desperate for his teasing to stop. 

“Think this one’s my favorite so far.”

You smiled and eventually met his eyes. “You said that last time…”

“And last time it was, but - fuck. You look so gorgeous.”

He pushed his jacket off your left shoulder, then the right, causing it to land on the ground with a solid thud due to all the assorted military paraphernalia. You peered over your shoulder at the pathetic lump of fabric on the patio. 

“I should pick that up. It’s gonna get -”

Bradley grabbed your chin to focus your attention back on him. “- Shhh, it’ll be fine.” He leaned in and sucked on your pulse point for a moment. “Just relax.” 

While he kissed up and down your neck, telling you to just relax after each one, you found yourself doing just that, slowly sagging your body against his and getting into a comfortable position. 

For a moment, you were cold without the jacket. There was a slight breeze coming off the ocean some two hundred yards away and you felt your nipples harden and goosebumps break out up and down your arms. But slowly, you felt warm - buzzed. And that was all due to Bradley and how safe and warm and happy and good he made you feel. And tonight, you had a feeling he was going to make you feel very good.

You turned your head, angling for a proper kiss - your first one since you had gotten back to the room that evening - which Bradley gladly reciprocated.

“You taste like scotch,” he said and then kissed you again. “You hate scotch.” Another kiss. And again and again and again until he was kissing up and down your neck and tickling your sides. 

Your giggles echoed across the patio. “I was nervous,” you admitted, “needed some liquid courage.”

Bradley properly paused and cocked his head. “Nervous?”

You tittered, not thinking he would actually call you out on it. “I don’t know? I don’t normally wear stuff like this? Was just nervous if you’d like it and just everything about tonight - which I know is silly considering what you  -”

“- I was nervous earlier, too,” he confessed like you hadn’t known, “Like I knew I was getting the award and everything, but I had this fear that I didn’t deserve it and they were just gonna take it away - which like I don’t know, it just brought everything back from that day. And how fucking scared I was and just - it was a lot.”

Oh, sweet boy. You cupped his cheek. “It’s okay to have been nervous. You did something really brave and important, Bradley. And that’s something you and Pete will have between you for the rest of your lives. So now, whenever you look at that medal, just think of Pete and everything you guys have gone through, okay?”

Bradley smiled and placed his hand over yours before bringing them both down between the two of you. “I like that, actually. Beats the alternative.” He didn’t let you linger on that last part and kept talking. “You know, whenever it would get to be too much, I’d glance over at you and see you smiling and talking with someone or dancing and I’d be fine - because you were there.”

If possible, you had never felt more love for someone than you did at that moment. Because that’s the way you always felt around Bradley, too. Just seeing his face, knowing he was nearby was enough. It would always be enough. 

Your eyes started to get misty. “Bubs, my nervousness tonight is in no way comparable to what you were going through earlier - let me finish - but I feel the exact same way every single time I look over and see you, just knowing you’re there is always enough for me.”

A huge smile lit up Bradley’s entire face and he squeezed his hands around your hips. God, he was so handsome. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” You brushed a lock of hair away from his forehead. “Now kiss me again.”

He didn’t waste another moment and captured your lips with his own, while your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling you even closer to him. As you sat in his lap, biting lips, brushing tongues, roving hands, you repositioned yourself and got comfortable straddling Bradley’s left leg, though you didn’t quite put all of your weight on it. For the first time all evening, your heels hurt your feet. But you knew Bradley would want to take them off himself, so you bore the momentary pain graciously. 

Clearly liking the new position, he grabbed your hips and brought you closer towards him, causing the fabric of his dress pants to create the most exciting ripple against your lace underwear. You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped. 

“You like that?” You nodded and he did it again, this time your underwear brushed perfectly against your clit and you whimpered. 

“You gonna let me be in charge tonight?” he asked like he wasn’t in charge every time you had sex. But you knew what he meant. Bradley needed to be in charge and be dominant and take control tonight. After everything during the gala and all the memories it had brought up, he needed to be in charge. 

And you were always eager and willing to let him. 

“Remember earlier when I asked you for a number between one and five?” You hummed. “And you picked five…” You hummed again, though less sure this time. “Well, that’s how many times you’re gonna come for me tonight.”

Your throat went dry and your pulse quickened. Oh god - oh wow. Five times. Had you known what Bradley had been asking earlier when he coaxed the number out of you, you would have gone for a much more manageable three - maybe four. 

Maybe. 

But five? 

With five it was a foregone conclusion that you would go into subspace during and drop after. Because the last time - really the only time - you’d done either of those, it had taken Bradley doing something you’d never done before to finally get you there. And that was only after he’d already made you come three times. 

“Do you - do you think you could spank me…”

Bradley looked slightly confused and rightly so. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to slap your ass while you were having sex. It actually wasn’t something you’d ever asked him to do before. It had long been established between the two of you that it was something you both liked and were free to do. Hell, he had already done it a couple times that evening. 

But you didn’t mean on your ass. 

“Yeah,” it wasn’t quite phrased as a question, but Bradley didn’t sound as sure as he had earlier in the evening when he’d fucked your throat and came on your tits. 

Because he had sounded very sure when he had called you a ‘dumb fucking slut’ whose mouth was ‘only good for one thing.’ Naturally, you’d come and he hadn’t even properly touched you yet. 

“Onmypussy,” you rushed out, your mortification growing slightly when all you got out of Bradley was his eyes widening and his cock twitching. 

He glanced down at your glistening core and smiled wolfishly. “Beg me.”

You whined. “Bradley…”

“You beg me or I don’t touch you the rest of the night…”

No. No, no no. You wanted him - you needed him. You were beyond horny and needy at this point, you were desperate to be fucked, to be filled. You’d beg. You’d beg and beg and beg for him to slap you if that was what it took for his cock to be inside you later.

“Please, Bradley. Please, slap my pussy,” you whined, “Need to come, need you. So desperate and needy for you. Please, please, please - oh!”

The first slap hit your exposed clit and you cried out. From above you, you could tell Bradley was hesitant to proceed. 

But all it took was you saying “Green” for his hands to be on you again. The next slap hit the sensitive skin of your upper thighs and lips. But the third one? The third one hit perfectly. And it was loud and wet and filthy. So fucking filthy. His big hands hit your tender flesh and you let out a desperate moan. Fucking finally. 

After that, you’d tried to keep count of how many times he’d struck you, but were eventually rendered unable to do anything more than mindlessly whimper and babble. 

“- F-five? Five times?”

He mistook your response as hesitance. “Hey - no, we don’t have to if you don’t want to, plain and simple. It was just a game I made up to distract myself before the ceremony -”

Your throat went dry and your cheeks warmed. It was impossible to stop yourself from rolling your hips against his thigh. “You were thinking - that’s what you were thinking about earlier? At dinner? In front of everyone?” He blushed and nodded. “Fuck,” you whined. 

Bradley bent his head down to rest on your chest, right in the valley of your breasts. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, I need you everywhere. Anyway I can have you if you let me.”

And without thinking it over for another moment, you said “yes.” Yes, to five. Yes, to anything he asked you. Yes, to Bradley. 

Bradley. Bradley. Bradley. 

“I wanna try for you.”

A proud smile lit up his face and he pecked you on the lips. “Good girl.” 

You wound your arms around his neck, bringing the two of you closer together before ultimately capturing his lips with your own. 

For how needy you both were, neither of you had any problem just kissing each other. Making out like two horny teenagers who were left unsupervised in someone’s parents’ converted basement. Except now you were very much two adults making out on the patio of your cabana suite after a night spent toasting one of you for their heroics. And no, you did not mean how you survived talking to Emily Simpson and meeting Bradley’s gorgeous ex-girlfriend. 

Not now.

Your hands moved from where they were raking through Bradley’s hair - making it tousled and fluffy - to his shoulders and eventually to his bowtie. The silk slipped through your fingers as you untied the knot, pulling it through the collar of his shirt, which you unbuttoned to expose that pretty neck of his. 

Now you could kiss him. Mark him. Bite that scar on his shoulder. Inhale the scent of his cologne. 

While you had been kissing him, Bradley’s right hand snuck underneath the gauzy fabric of your chemise and started teasing the pretty little bow tied at the back of your thong. All the while, his hand left gripped your hip, anchoring you to his thigh, but still allowing you the ability to grind. 

You were whimpering in between kisses, desperate for the big, strong hand digging into your hip to slip underneath your thong and brush your aching clit. 

The lace. The pants. Bradley. 

It felt so good. All of it. Grinding on his big, strong thigh. Brushing your breasts against his big, strong chest. 

Big. Strong. Bradley. 

It was all consuming. Feeling his mustache brush against your lips and his tongue stroke yours expertly. The way one of his hands snuck up your side to fondle your breasts through the delicate lace. 

It felt so good. And you were already getting so wet. So unbelievably wet that there was definitely going to be a sticky mess on Bradley’s Navy issued slacks if you didn’t let up. 

God, wasn’t that a thought? You had wanted to mark him, sure. But on his chest or neck. A bite on his shoulder. Not your cum on his pants. Could he tell? He had to be able to tell. Shit. You needed to move. 

You shifted and hid a whimper at the unintentional stimulation. 

“…Wait, where’re you going?” Bradley stilled you on his thigh, clearly oblivious to your embarrassment.

You squirmed, but all that did was send another wave of arousal crashing through you. “I don’t want to ruin your pants,” the words came out in a rush.

He cocked his head. “My pants?”

God, you had thought you were beyond getting embarrassed about stuff like this, but apparently grinding on your boyfriend’s thigh with only a thin barrier of white, Italian lace was doing you in that evening. He just looked so handsome and you were already so keyed up and just needed him in any way you could have him.

Bradley. Bradley. Bradley.

“I’m sorry, it just feels like I - I need more and it feels so good, but I don’t want to ruin your pants - I can stop -”

Bradley squeezed your hips and dragged you higher up on his thigh, closer to his crotch. The ripple of the fabric on his pants felt absolutely sinful against your core and you bit your lip to hold back a moan, momentarily forgetting your embarrassment.

“- I don’t mind.” And clearly he didn’t if the prominent bulge in his slacks was any indication.

You ducked your head and he tipped your chin up so you were looking into his beautiful brown eyes. He kissed you and you desperately wanted to get lost in the feeling until you had another thought. 

“- They’ll probably have to get dry cleaned now - the pants, I mean -”

But Bradley just smiled. “- And I will happily expense it - hey, you know you’re currently defacing government property? I know that’s right up your alley.” You smiled. “Now, are you gonna be a good girl and ride my thigh or not?” You nodded twice before he could say another word. “Shhh, shhh, it’s okay sweetheart. Take what you need, it’s alright.”

Given the explicit permission to continue, you resumed grinding on Bradley’s thigh. The combination of the soft lace of your underwear coupled with the coarse fabric of his dress pants was doing wonders against your clit. You dug your hands into his shoulders as you tried to keep your balance, but that was only made harder when Bradley teasingly bounced his leg a couple times. You whimpered. It echoed pitifully across the patio and he chuckled.

“That feel good against you, huh, kid?” You nodded. “Yeah, I bet. I could feel you dripping on me since you sat down. I know you’ve been like this all night.” You nodded again and he clicked his tongue.

You leaned forward to kiss his neck, right along that little white scar. He smelled so pretty and his hands were so big and strong as they dug into your hips.

He was all you could focus on - all you wanted to focus on. Bradley. Bradley. Bradley.

“Awww, look at you trying so hard to come. Such a good girl for me.”

Goosebumps ran up and down your entire body and you felt yourself get even wetter at the praise. You pulled away from his neck - his beautiful, beautiful neck - and kissed him. 

“Fuck,” Bradley gasped against your mouth after a few moments of continued grinding and kisses, “why haven’t we done this before?”

You shook your head quickly. “I don’t know, ‘feels so good though.”

“I like you using me like this.”

His words made you pause, slightly self conscious again. He liked this? “Really?”

“Could be kinda fun for you to take control every once in a while - ‘know you like me to take care of you, but maybe one day?”

It was an interesting idea, one you hadn’t considered too much on your own, at least not seriously. Bradley was so naturally dominant, it just made sense that it would translate in that way to your sex life. But now that you thought about it, he did like when you were a little condescending towards him - and when you called him a good boy. You felt your neck getting warm at the thought. 

“One day, but for now…” 

Bradley pressed hot, sloppy kisses across your chest, occasionally stopping to suck on your pert nipples through the lace of your chemise. You let out a strangled cry as he tweaked your nipple in a way that had your seeing stars. God, it felt so delicious, so good. 

Touch me. Touch me. Touch me. 

His fingers slid underneath the thin straps of your thong and he splayed his hands across your ass cheeks. You let out a pitiful whimper and kept moving, kept rubbing yourself against him. It felt so good and pleasant - an electric hum running through your body - and you had the passing thought that you could actually come from this. You could actually come on your boyfriend’s thigh. 

You wondered what his pants looked like right now and wanted to check, but Bradley tipped your chin up so you were staring into his eyes. 

“Almost there?” You just nodded. “Lemme try one more thing…”

You barely uttered a simple yes when he yanked your thong up so it was digging into your clit. The sudden movement had you crying out, which Bradley smothered with a sloppy kiss. 

Holy fuck. 

Your body tensed and then relaxed again as you rode out your high, before you eventually sagged against his chest. 

Fuck. You can’t believe that just happened. You came riding his thigh. His big, brawny, strong thigh. The fact that what finally pushed you over the edge was the borderline crude or base act of yanking your panties didn’t even embarrass you, it just made you want to come again. 

“Now that wasn’t so hard, huh?”

Bradley kissed your neck, but didn’t move or even signal for you to get up. He just held you there against him as you caught your breath. Eventually, his right hand moved from your lower back to the front of your drenched thong. His fingers slipped underneath the lace and brushed against your wet folds. You gasped as he sunk one then another finger inside you, but you didn’t pick your head up from his shoulder. 

“Bradley,” you whined, the word suddenly too loud for your little patio. Your hips rolled against his hand. “Need your fingers.”

“Shhh hold on, sweetheart.” He leaned back. “Let’s go inside -”

You picked your head up and laid a hand on his arm, stopping him in his tracks. “What if we stayed out here for a bit…”

“If we stay out here someone -”

Your eyes never left his own. “- might hear us…”

You were in the corner room. There was only one room next to yours. One room that shared a wall with your room. One room whose patio was only delineated by a thin cabana awning. One room whose occupants you had both found out earlier in the evening were Jake Seresin - and Sarah fucking Costigan. 

Goosebumps ran up and down your arms. You leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “What if I want someone to hear us? To hear how good you make me feel -”

He said your name; it came out like a warning. 

“ - Have them hear your little civvy girlfriend cry out for her handsome, award winning boyfriend?”

Bradley’s eyes darkened and you knew you had him. The only other thing that could possibly push him over the edge even further was you calling him Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw. 

And there was still plenty of time for that.

“Fuck,” he sounded completely and utterly wrecked. “You sure, kid?”

“I want them to know how good you are.”

It was like a switch had gone off inside his head. From then on, it became all about you. His hands - his big, strong hands - were everywhere, roving over your hips, your ass, your thighs, your breasts. His lips latched onto your neck, while his left hand tweaked your nipple and you sighed and sighed and sighed, each one breathier and louder than the last. 

You wanted him to leave bruises and marks all over your body. You wanted proof. 

“Bradley…” You sounded wanton, but it didn’t stop you from saying his name again - and louder still. 

Hear me. Hear how good my boyfriend makes me feel. Hear how he makes love to me. Hear how much he loves me. 

“Oh god, that feels so good.” You let out a gasp as he scissored his fingers inside you. You could feel your clit throbbing against your underwear, desperate to be touched there again - to come again. 

Noticing your increased neediness, Bradley scoffed. 

“You’re making such a mess. Am I gonna have to clean you up, too - bury my face in that soaking wet pussy? Might have to go back for seconds with the way you’re dripping on me like you didn’t just come on my thigh.”

That sounded heavenly right now. The thought of his mustache tickling the sensitive skin of your thighs and his lips sucking your clit, lapping up all the slick you had just accumulated. You could come right now from the thought alone, but why make do with the thought when you had the man, himself, so willing. 

“Need you to -” you whined, “need your mouth on me, please, please - oof.”

The words barely had a moment to settle when Bradley rolled you both over so he was lying on top of you on the outdoor loveseat. His eyes were blown out as he looked down at you and you shifted under his heady stare. 

He leaned back on his haunches and ran his hands - his big, strong hands - up and down your thighs. “So pretty,” he muttered under his breath, almost like he hadn’t wanted you to hear. And then, louder, he said: “You want my mouth on you?”

“Mmmm, please.” 

Bradley tutted. “Try again.” 

You didn’t know what he wanted. You said please, you used your words, you - oh. His big, strong hand slapped your pussy and you let out a cry as your hips chased after his hand. 

“Please, Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw. Please put your mouth on me.”

“Much better….” He leaned down to blow on your aching cunt. You squirmed - already unbelievably sensitive and wet from the amount of slick on you that hadn’t made its way onto Bradley’s pants.

Bradley. Bradley. Bradley.

“Come on, be a good girl and spread those legs for me - wanna see all of you.” 

He laid your legs over his shoulders and pulled you closer to his face. Before you could even get out a word or a sigh or a plea, he started kissing your thighs. Slowly, painfully, languidly, making his way closer to where you were aching the most. With a final bite on your right thigh, he mouthed at your core through the wet lace of your white panties. 

“Mmm can I take these off now? Unwrap my present?” His plush lips wrapped around your clit through the lace and sucked. 

You threw your arm over your face. It was so hard not to buck up against his mouth - you didn’t want to show him how desperate you were so quickly. It was bad enough you already felt hot and could feel the sweat beading behind your neck right where the pretty white bow was holding up your chemise. 

“Please, please,” you whined. 

Bradley had you briefly roll over so he could get the full experience of untying the bow on the back of your panties before slowly rolling the lace down your legs. Of course, he stashed them in his pants pocket. 

Before you could roll back over, he slapped your ass and you smiled. “Good girl.” Your cheeks warmed and you laid on your back again. 

Now, completely bare and open to the elements and your boyfriend’s heady stare, it was even more apparent that your cunt was positively dripping. He placed your legs back over his shoulders and licked a long stripe across your folds. 

You could feel his pleased hum against your skin. “You taste so fucking good.” 

His voice came out muffled and he continued at a steady pace, alternating between slipping his tongue inside you and probing at your clit. You tried and failed to fist at the couch cushions - anything to center you - and instead grabbed a hold of Bradley’s hair with one hand and played with your breasts through the lace with the other. 

“Bradley…” You let out a whine; it was only slightly exaggerated. “More, more. Please.”

The idea that you sounded pathetic didn’t even cross your mind; you just wanted to come on Bradley’s tongue.

“Shhh, there’s people in the other room…” he mocked, echoing your words from earlier. “You want everyone to hear how much of a slut you are begging me to make you come?” 

He stopped talking - no, he stopped degrading you and went back to work. It was getting harder and harder to stay relatively still the closer you got to completion and you kept shifting your legs on Bradley’s shoulders. The hand with its fingers not shoved up your cunt, moved from where it was leaving marks on your hip to press on your stomach, right below your belly button. 

Then, you whined as his lips wrapped around your clit and squeezed your thighs around his head, pulling at his curls to shift his focus to that special spot. 

“Bradley…Bradley…Bradley…”

There was a pull in your stomach, a deep swooping sensation and you knew you wouldn’t last much longer. The moan that he let out send you spiraling even further.

Five, five, five. 

But you had to try for Bradley. You wanted to be good for him. Be his good girl. Even though he’d call you a slut for it. 

“Fuck, ‘m sorry,” he said, suddenly. 

You somehow managed to lift your head up, dazed, and watched as Bradley took away his hand pressing on your stomach and slipped it down between his own legs. He let up for a moment as he touched himself over his slacks, before diving right back in with such renewed vigor that you bucked up into his face. His stupid (wonderful) mustache dragged across your clit just so. It was euphoric. You could feel your walls tightening around his fingers and tongue and arched your back of the couch as you came.

“Ah! Fuck, fuck, Bradley! Right there, right there - oh - fuck, yes!”

Oh, oh, oh. It felt so good. So good. 

And knowing that he was touching himself because of how good you were being? How receptive you were? Fuck. Something about Bradley’s mouth was extra sinful tonight. Or maybe you were just particularly sensitive. You were basking in the afterglow and you tried to settle your breathing. 

Two. Two. Two down. 

“Your legs are shaking.” Were they? You could hardly tell. “Bet I can get another one out of you like this. You wanna ride my face?”

You moaned. “Don’t think I - don’t have the strength to.” The thought didn’t even cross your mind to say that doing that normally made you nervous. You were always worried you’d break Bradley’s stupidly pretty face or something. 

He clicked his tongue and then started nipping at your upper thighs. “Shame,” he said between kisses, “bet you can’t even fucking walking either. Don’t worry, I’ll take you on your back for the next one, let you rest up.”

All you could do was whimper. The thought of just laying there as he used you was so delicious. Fuck. You loved Bradley’s fingers and tongue, but you really wanted his cock inside you. Have him fill you up. Over and over again. 

Five. Five. Five. 

Bradley. Bradley. Bradley. 

“Gonna have to carry you to bed.” 

He peered his head up from between your thighs and shot you a look, silently asking if that was okay. You didn’t like to be carried despite Bradley’s numerous efforts to prove that it was no big deal. 

You just couldn’t help but think that maybe it wouldn't be as much of a deal if you were a size two instead of a size - no, no, no. Not now. 

Let him. Just let him. Let him love you. Let him love you more. 

“Please.”

He stood up to his full height, towering over you as you still were relaxed against the couch cushions. God, he was so pretty and so wrecked. His starch, white tuxedo shirt was rumpled, half tucked into his pants that he had unbuttoned at one point - and his cock was rock hard and straining against them. 

You had done that. You had done that to him. Made him so desperate with want and need that he had had to touch himself. Would he let you touch him? Would he let you suck his cock? A whimper escaped your lips just thinking about it and Bradley ran his fingers over them. You could smell yourself. 

“Come on. Lemme take you inside.”

Feeling like a lush, you let Bradley pick you up and thanked him by burrowing your face in his neck and pressing sloppy kisses to the exposed skin there. He smelled so good and his neck was so bite-able. You started pawing at the collar of his shirt, trying to push it as far away from his warm body as possible and more access. 

As you nipped at his broad shoulder, he kneaded your ass with the hand not doing the majority of the work holding you up. It was a quick journey to the bedroom, but you didn’t want him to let go of you. You wanted him to be everywhere. His arms wrapped around you, his lips on yours, his cock inside you. 

Bradley. Bradley. Bradley. 

Loathe as you were to let him go, you let Bradley untwine your arms from around his neck and sit you on the edge of the bed, only propped up by your elbows. The sheets felt scratchy against your bare ass and thighs, just how you liked them. You peered up to see Bradley already staring at you, a knowing smile on his face, before he shifted his attention to toeing off his shoes and socks. 

In turn, you realized that you still had your heels on - the ones with the dainty little strap you were scared Bradley would break. (You weren’t really scared, but knew he’d get frustrated with the clasp and didn’t want to be out eleven-hundred dollars.) Once he laid his crisp white tuxedo shirt down on the bed - though not without giving you a cheeky smile and a show - did Bradley give you his full attention once again. 

“God, you look so gorgeous like that.”

You could feel your cheeks warming at his unabashed staring. But he was one to talk! There was the slightest touch of pink on his shoulders from too much time spent out in the sun earlier in the day, but god if Bradley wasn’t absolutely stunning with his dress pants snug on his slutty little waist, while his tan chest had the slightest sheen of sweat on it. You wanted to lick him - everywhere. 

He held out his hand and you cocked your head. “Shoes, kid.”

Oh. You raised your left leg up for him to take off your heel. The way you were sprawled out on the bed - with one leg up, no panties on, and Bradley’s eyes darting between your ankle and your wet pussy - made you feel powerful and desirable. 

And god - did the stretch on your leg feel heavenly. 

As predicted, Bradley did fumble with the clasp (as one would only expect with his big, strong hands), but he more than made up for it with the way he peppered kisses up and down your left leg, before switching and doing the same with the right. 

“I’ve been thinking about this all night,” you sighed and closed your eyes, utterly blissed out.  

Bradley chuckled. You could hear your Jimmy Cho hit the floor somewhere nearby. “What? Me taking your shoes off?”

“Mmmhmm, amongst other things…”

Once he let go of your right foot, you opened your eyes and scampered up on the bed - the fastest you’d moved all night - and watched, dazed, as Bradley fumbled with his belt and pulled his pants down, leaving him in just his boxer briefs. You let out a whine at the sight of the wet patch on them, the proof of his arousal and need for you. And oh god, his cock was so big. 

So big and pretty and perfect and you desperately wanted it in your mouth. To have him fuck your throat until you had to tap out. You felt the slick still dripping down your thighs and made grabby hands at the waistband of his Calvin’s. 

“Can I suck your cock? Please, please, Bradley?”

He swallowed thickly and glanced at the ceiling - the first sign all evening that he was just as fucking gone for you as you were for him. 

Please say ‘yes.’ Please say ‘yes.’ Please. Please. Plea-

“And why should you get rewarded? Pretty sure you told me you’d give me five, not two. Not even halfway there yet…”

Reaching out for his hand, you threaded your fingers together and you pulled Bradley down for a kiss. “Please? Please?” you said between kisses as you pulled him closer and wrapped your legs around his hips, but he just grumbled. 

He sat up and straddled your lap, but didn’t put his full weight on you. “How ‘bout we take this off before we get any further?” His hands fingered the hem of your chemise. 

Reminded of its presence, you could admit that the pretty bow at the back of your neck suddenly felt too tight and confining. You scooched up on the bed to give Bradley better access to take it off, but not before he gave your nipples one final tweak through the lace. Being free of the white chemise meant that you were now totally bare before him. And now, it was like neither of you could get enough of each other, both your hands were everywhere, grabbing at your breasts, running over Bradley’s abs, cupping him through his boxer briefs, kissing and biting and sucking on each other’s lips and neck and shoulders.

Bradley pulled away for a second to get better access to your breasts and you took it as an opportunity to try and roll him over so he was on his back. However, your efforts were all for naught as he wrapped a strong hand around your wrist and held you in place.

“Uh uh, I told you that you’d be on your back for this next one. Got to let you rest up a bit, sweetheart.”

He took the opportunity to lay you back on the bed and drape his body over yours, relishing in the feeling of his muscular legs, his toned chest, his strong arms, and most importantly his throbbing cock. In your current position, there was just enough space between the two of you for you to snake your hand down between your legs and palm at his cock through his boxer briefs. Bradley sucked in a breath and guided your hand in his up and down his shaft.

“Need more of you…”

“Need to make sure you’re ready for me first.” 

As if you weren’t ready for him the second you had walked out onto that patio earlier. 

With an expert touch, Bradley started working you over, getting ready and soon you were squirming, desperate for more of him - for more of Bradley. It was intoxicating almost. This insatiable need to prove you could do it. That no matter how tired you got, you could come five times for him. Let him wring each one out of you like it was the only thing he was put on this Earth to do. 

And right now, his fingers felt heavenly pumping in and out of your pussy while you thrust your hips up to meet his hand. But you knew you needed more. And you knew that Bradley knew that you needed more.

You wrenched your lips away from him and took pleasure in seeing how hard he was breathing. The two of you were a hot and sweaty mess and you desperately needed to remove any final barriers between the two of you. 

“Fuck, I want your cock, Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw. Please.”

There was a brief pause - like time had stood still. Neither of you could deny how absolutely sinful and wanton and desperate his title had just sounded as it slipped from your lips. 

Bradley moaned, deep and guttural. He said your name. “Didn’t we just talk about this? You think you deserve it?” You nodded in quick succession. It was all you wanted right now. It was all you could think about right now. Cuming on Bradley’s cock and letting the entire hotel hear you. “I know you can come without it - how about you clean my fingers off first, you got them all dirty again -”

He shoved his cum soaked fingers in your mouth. You moaned at the taste of yourself and started sucking. Your tongue swirled around his fingertips, making sure you didn’t miss a drop. Fuck, he had such big hands, such big fingers. Strong too. You would do anything he wanted. You gagged as he shoved his fingers further into your mouth and drool pooled at the corners.

“Don’t sound so smart anymore, huh? Were so perfect at dinner. Imagine if everyone saw you now? Such a fucking slut…”

Bradley took his fingers out of your mouth and wiped them on your chest, right in the valley of your breasts. It was sticky and wet, but you’d let him mark you all over a thousand times just so everyone would know you were his. You whimpered at the thought.

“Now be a good girl and lie back for me.”

You shifted to lie back on the bed - just as he had asked. Your head was cradled by the fluffy, white pillows at the top of the bed and your legs were stretched out in front of you. But you wanted Bradley on top of you. You wanted him inside you. You wanted him, you wanted him, you wanted -

“Knees up.” 

Not waiting for you to obey, he held your legs wide open, leaving you completely exposed. You tried to roll your hips up for some sort of friction - anything, really - but Bradley let out a grunt of reproach and you immediately stilled. His pupils were blown wide and his hair was so messy - so unlike Bradley. Did you look that wrecked? Did you look that desperate? You hoped you did.

“You're gonna look so gorgeous on my cock, sweetheart.”  

His words sent a wave of arousal over your entire body. Your face felt hot, your pulse quickened, your nipples hardened, and your felt your pussy clench on air. It was like you hadn’t already come twice that evening - you were that desperate and that horny for him. 

And by the looks of the impressive tent in Bradley’s boxer briefs, he was just as desperate for you. Probably even more so since you hadn’t even taken care of him yet. Selfish, selfish bitch. Under your watchful stare, Bradley slipped off his boxer briefs, discarding them somewhere behind him. And god, did he look beautiful. 

You made grabby hands at his cock and he chuckled. “Alright, alright.”

His cock pulsed in your gasp and you swiped your thumb over the slit to rub his pre-cum over the head. Such a pretty cock, wasn’t it? Seven and a half glorious inches with the prettiest veins and head to top it off. Your hand could barely fit around it. You’d become intimately familiar with it over the last six months and you still never got tired of how divine it felt in your mouth or thrusting in and out of your cunt. It was just as pretty as Bradley. The Pride of the Navy, you’d once called it. You could write sonnets about it. (You wouldn’t, but you could.)

Pulling back from your hands with a hiss, Bradley leaned his body over you and pressed a lingering kiss to your lips, which then turned to one on your neck, your breasts, and then your tummy.

“Ready?” You nodded. Together, Bradley lifted your hips up slightly and you lined up his cock head with your entrance. And then there was the one thing you could never get used to: the stretch. Your back arched and you let out a breathy gasp. 

The two of you fell into a perfect rhythm, knowing the exact way to bring the other to release. Once you got comfortable, Bradley grabbed both your wrists with one hand and held them up over your head. 

“Ohhhh, Bradley,” you whimpered. It didn’t sound like you. Your heart was pounding like crazy and your chest was heaving with each breath. 

It was addicting. The knowledge that you had to push through to five. Normally, you got sleepy and sluggish and slow after two or three, but pushing yourself to five - for Bradley - was addicting. 

Bradley, Bradley, Bradley, you kept repeating his name like a mantra. 

Because nothing else was enough. Nothing else would convey how much he meant to you, how good he was making you feel as he drove into you again and again. You’d never felt closer to someone before in your entire life - never felt closer to God or the almighty or whatever you wanted to call them than you did right in that moment with Bradley. 

Bradley, Bradley, Bradley. Again and again and again you cried out his name. 

I love you, I want you, I need you. 

Take me, love me, have me. 

Bradley, Bradley, Bradley. 

“God, you’re such a good girl for me…”

That was all you wanted - all you ever wanted - to be Bradley’s good girl and have him lavish praise oupn you. To take care of him and be good for him. 

Please let me be good for you. 

God, you weren’t going to last for him. Your breathing was coming faster, the way his cock was thrusting into you was coming faster - it was all coming faster. 

“How’d I get so lucky to have the most perfect girl in the entire world? Can’t believe I wanted to keep you to myself.”

“Bubs…” 

His hands tightened on your wrists. Big, strong. “Because everyone thinks you’re the one in charge, sweetheart - everywhere. In every aspect of our relationship. But you’re not when we’re like this, are you?”

“No, no - you are. ‘Like when you tell me what to do.” 

Whenever Bradley wanted to take control of something and let you get lost in the pleasure of him and get lost in him, you did. It didn’t happen all the time - not like this, at least. But he made you feel safe and protected. He was brawny and broad and big and strong and in his arms you never felt like anything bad was going to happen. 

And it might be vanilla or boring or whatever, but you loved missionary sex. You loved being that close to Bradley. You loved feeling the weight of his body all over you. You loved being able to look into his eyes as he pounded into you and told you things he would otherwise never say about you. You loved how he would hold your hands above your head and thread your fingers together. You loved how good it all made you feel. 

“You’re so strong, make me feel so safe,” you were rambling at this point, unknowingly debunking every insecurity Bradley had earlier in the evening. 

Tell me I’m bad if only to patch me up later and tell me I’m good. 

You cried out - loudly - as Bradley drove into you deeper and more than ever before. 

“Bet you want everyone to hear you now, don’t you.” He paused to collect himself. “Hear how good you’re getting fucked?”

Your words came out slow, just like every thought running through your head. “Want ‘em to hear how well you take care of me. Hear how well you stretch me out.”

“Color?”

“Green,” you whined. You sounded beyond pathetic. He changed the angle, pulled your leg up higher around his hip.

You glanced down to see where the two of you were connected and let out a whimper. At the borderline obscene sight, your arms broke out into goosebumps and you felt your nipples harden. Fuck, he felt so good. You felt so good. And loved and cherished and full. So fucking full. And it was all you could think of - how full you were and Bradley, Bradley, Bradley. 

“Wanna be - good,” you slurred. The words felt heavy on your tongue, like you were underwater, sinking lower and lower. You arched your back, bringing yourself closer to Bradley. 

Bradley, Bradley, Bradley. 

“You are. But right now I wanna take care of you, kid.”

“‘Do - you do. Always.”

You wondered what you looked like right now? Fucked out. Mouth open. Hair rumpled. Makeup smudged. A whiny, desperate mess. What did you look like? What did Bradley see? 

You could hear him talking to you, telling you how you were such a good girl for him. Please keep talking. He needed to keep telling you how good you were. 

How good your cunt felt around him. How sweet you smelled as he nibbled at your neck. How he couldn’t wait till his cum was dripping out of you. How he couldn’t believe that a whiny whore like you had been wearing white lingerie like some innocent little debutante. 

“I could get you to do anything if I promised you my cock, couldn’t I?”

You whined. You still wanted to suck his cock. Would he let you? It always looked so pretty and felt so good in your mouth. As Bradley repositioned your leg, you let out a particularly pathetic cry. 

(That one’s got quite the mouth on her.) 

Rationally, you knew you could respond with words and say all kinds of things like yes and more and of course, Bradley, anything or just Bradley Bradley Bradley and even that one word you dared not even think. But it was so much easier to just whine and keen and whimper. Your back arched and you stared at the white and gold patterned headboard and then at the mirror above it. Could Bradley - no. He wouldn’t be able to see himself in the mirror. 

But you wanted to - you wanted to see yourself in the mirror. See Bradley pounding into you over and over again, your back arched, your breasts pushed out, nipples hard as you played with them. Even your legs over his shoulders. 

You imagined you looked pretty, seeing yourself how Bradley saw you. It caused a particularly loud whimper to escape your mouth. Because that was all you could do - whimper, whine, and keen. It was so much. All of it. But you liked it. You really liked it. 

“God, sweetheart. You’re fucking milking my cock.” You whined. “Haven’t I taken care of you enough tonight?”

Yes. Yes. Yes. Bradley had taken such good care of you! He always did. Like you were the most precious thing on earth. Please, please, please. Bradley, Bradley, Bradley. 

“S’ good to - me.” Was that your voice? It didn’t even sound like you. 

“I know, kid.”

You could feel yourself tighten around his cock and slightly canted your hips up to meet his pelvis. A sudden sense of urgency coursed through your veins and your senses became even more heightened. With your hands pinned above your head, the only way for you to pull him closer was to dig your ankle into the back of his thighs, right near his perfectly tight ass. 

It was wet and loud as your bodies collided and you knew if he moved just slightly you’d come: you were that keyed up and overstimulated. 

Three. Three. Three. 

But somehow, Bradley bet you to completion. “I’m so close,” he finished with your name like a plea. “Can’t wait for you…”

“Take it.” Take it. Take whatever you want. Take me.

His thrusts got sloppy and less precise, but he managed to pound into your g-spot a few more times before he let out a moan and spent himself inside you. You could tell it took a lot out of him, but he deserved it. Bradley deserved everything. Bradley was so perfect and strong and kind and - he was saying your name, trying to get you to finish with him still inside you. You loved the feeling of his cock and cum inside you. It made you feel absolutely divine. You were close. Would he be proud of you if you came just now?

“I got you, I got you,” he muttered. 

He kept himself propped up on his left forearm, but brought his right hand - which had previously been holding your wrists above your head - down between your bodies, teasing you until he reached your clit. And just like you thought, it only took a little more for you to come in his arms. 

“Gonna - ahhh! Come - please, please, Bradley. Bradley, Bra - ahhhhh,” your last cry was stolen from you as you got lost in the haze of your orgasm. 

You felt weightless and floaty after you reached your high. Your legs relaxed from their tight hold on Bradley’s thighs. He pressed what felt like hundreds of kisses to your face, telling you time and time again that he loved you. 

“There you go, good girl. Such a good girl. Listen to how pretty you sound.”

Eventually, he rolled off you and settled himself further down the bed so that his head was positioned near your left hip. As you caught your breath, you mindlessly ran your fingers through his hair. He has the softest, prettiest hair. It always got blonder in the sun, like he was kissed by the gods or something. You didn’t know how long you did it, it could’ve been five minutes or fifteen, but eventually Bradley let out a pleased hum and glanced over at your spread legs. 

He clicked his tongue. “Can’t believe you’re just wasting all that. All that hard work…”

Your cheeks warmed. He was looking at the cum dripping out of you, staining your thighs. A perfect mix of the two of you - of your want and need and love for each other. Just like a child would be the perfect mix of the two of you. 

And you were wasting it. It was dripping out of you right onto the sheets. Selfish, selfish bitch.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, ashamed to have disappointed him. 

Bradley rolled over onto his stomach and slotted himself between your spread legs. “So, what’re we gonna do about this, huh?”

Whatever you want. All you could do was shimmy your hips, inviting him to take charge. His eyes were alight with mischief and he sprang up from his position on his stomach to grab your waist and throw you back down on the bed, except this time on your stomach. You let him manhandle you into some sort of child’s pose - ass up, face down into the down pillows. It made you feel vulnerable in the best kind of way.

“How about we try this?” Bradley ran his big, strong hands over your hips.  “That’s my girl. Bet you like this, both of your holes completely exposed to me.” He slapped your ass lightly. You moaned when he did it again, except harder. “Color?”

Despite being a little muffled, you still spoke loud enough for him to hear you. “Green.”

Bradley’s hand slipped down to brush against your sensitive clit and then he slid his fingers into your pussy with ease and groaned your name. “So good, look at how much you came.” Your back arched and you burrowed your face even further into the fluffy white pillow. “Such a greedy fucking pussy we have here…”

In and out. In and out went his fingers - fucking his cum back inside you. You were whining. You were crying. You were floating. 

“It’s all mine, belongs right back inside you.”

“Yours.”

Bradley chuckled. “Yeah, all mine. Mine to take.” His fingers dragged down your walls before sliding back in. 

It felt divine. 

“Oh - fuck. So much, Bradley.” It wasn’t too much; it wasn’t enough. You were floating. There were no thoughts in your head besides Bradley and coming. 

Four. Four. Four.

“Can’t waste any.” Of course not.

You never wanted to waste any of Bradley’s cum. It felt so good inside you. You loved when he filled you up like this. Maybe he’d let you warm his cock later? He deserved it. And more. Anything he wanted.

Anything.

Bradley had done such a good job tonight. He was so perfect, so impressive. So beautiful. Everyone loved him. Bradley. His friends, his colleagues - you. You loved him. You loved him. You loved -

Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, but you wanted to tell him. “Perf-ect,” was all you could manage. Love me, love me, love me more. “‘M close.” Again.

“Fuck, I know. Da - I’ll take care of you. Always take care of you.”

You let out a cry. Bradley always took care of you. Such good care of you. Always.

“Bradley, Bradley, Bradley,” you realized you were saying his name out loud and had been for some time. It was pathetic how far gone you were. “F-four. Four.”

But to your horror, when you took a breath to center yourself, you couldn’t. You couldn’t get back to yourself. You were still overwhelmed, almost like your body was taking too long to catch up to what was happening. It felt like you were on fire. Like you had run a marathon. Your breaths came in pants and you wanted more, you needed more. But how? If you already felt this overstimulated, how could you need more? Maybe it was the position? Ass up, face down? The throbbing and thrumming of your clit was driving you insane. And Bradley’s big, strong hands and fingers were overstimulating you in a way you’d never felt before. 

Tell him. Tell him to stop. Tell him. He’ll do it. Tell him. Tell - 

“- Bra-adley,” your voice sounded small, like it wasn’t connected to you, but it was still insistent, “I - I can’t do it anymore - please, I - yellow.”

His fingers stopped slowly - not so abruptly that you’d be in even more discomfort - and carefully turned you over so you were on your back with your legs laid out on the bed. Bradley propped himself up on his side and looked you over intently. Your heart was beating so fast, it felt like it was going to burst out of your chest. Your eyes fluttered closed.

It was quiet in the room except for both of your labored breathing. But even in your haze, you could tell it was too quiet. 

Yellow. 

You had never had to say it before. But you felt too overwhelmed. Like you were going to burst and cry and that Bradley would be disappointed in you that you couldn’t last. You felt your eyes fill with tears. You’d only gotten to four - if what you just felt could even be classified as four. You’d promised. You said you would try - and you failed. 

Four. Four. Four. 

You glanced up to see Bradley’s eyes were wide with concern. “Hey, hey, it’s alright, what is it?”

“Slower. ‘S too much. ” It had been. But you still wanted him beside you. Holding you, reassuring you, loving you. 

“Want me to hold you?” He read your mind. He was so sweet and kind and you loved him. You loved him so much. You started to nod, but then remembered your words. “Please?”

Take care of me, hold me, love me. 

Fuck. Even shuffling closer to Bradley made you cry out. You were so sensitive. And so overstimulated. But you still wanted to come again. You just needed to go slower.

Bradley’s hands grabbed your hips, pulling your ass against his crotch, and he wrapped his arms around your stomach. Oh, you felt so warm - warm and safe and loved. You grabbed one of his hands and brought it to your lips, pressing a light kiss across each of his knuckles. At the same time, Bradley peppered kisses up and down your neck and across your left shoulder. 

Had he marked you? You wanted him to mark you. All over your thighs, your neck, your breasts. Show everyone you were his. His good girl. Your cunt was still throbbing and needed to be filled again by him - by Bradley. 

Bradley, Bradley, Bradley.

It seemed like no time and so much time had passed since you’d been chanting his name, since he’d held your wrists in his big hands, since he’d kissed your breasts, since he’d filled you up with his cum. You whimpered, lost in the thought. 

“‘Still need to come again - one more time for you.”

He made shushing noises. “‘s okay, kid. Like doing this too.”

It was hard to tell how long you laid there wrapped in each other’s arms. Safe and warm and loved. Bradley even started humming at one point. The song was pretty even if you didn’t know it. But everything Bradley did was pretty to you right now. 

Eventually, you got a little too desperate again and started squirming against him. The rumble from his amused chuckles made you relax again, but you could tell he was more than ready whenever you were. 

“Feel too empty…”

“Want me back inside you?” You nodded and twisted your head to press kisses to Bradley’s neck. “Front? Or behind?”

“Behind,” you whispered. It would make you feel smaller, more precious, to have his arms wrapped around you. 

“Why don’t I let you set the pace this time, huh?” 

His fingers ghosted over your sensitive clit and you whimpered. “Okay…”

Something about the way you were positioned this time made everything more intimate. You felt more dear. Not that you didn’t love missionary and whenever Bradley’s eyes were on you as you fell apart. But having his arms wrapped around you and being cocooned in his warmth and essence was absolutely divine after how wrecked you were. 

It was overwhelming, but in the best kind of way this time. You were crying. There were tears streaming down your cheeks. And you felt so good. So good. Like you could stay like this forever. Like you would do anything to feel this good again. To make Bradley feel this good again. Bradley, Bradley, Bradley. 

Did he feel good? Were you making him happy? Oh, you hoped you were. That’s all you wanted. To make him feel good and be good for him. You wanted to be good for him. Always. Bradley, Bradley, Bradley. 

You should tell him that. Tell him how you wanted to be good for him. He had to know. He had to know because what if he didn’t and he thought you were selfish? He had made you feel good so many times tonight. Bradley, Bradley, Bradley. 

Because no. You couldn’t come again until he did. Until he spent himself inside you and filled you up. You liked when he did that. When he made you feel full. With his cock nestled inside you. You wanted him inside you forever if it meant you’d feel that good.

Five. Five. Five. 

You were so close. So close to doing what he had asked. What he had thought about all evening at dinner. Did he imagine this as he was getting his award? Did he imagine fucking you like this as you danced? Did he imagine he’d have fallen in love with the girl from the bar all those months ago?

Five. Five. Five. 

It went on like that for a little longer, both of you letting out gasps and moans and whimpers as you neared closer and closer to completion. Bradley thumbed over your clit with his right hand, playing with the nub. Combined with the way he was kneading your breasts and sucking on your neck, you knew you were close.

You gasped as your pussy fluttered around his cock, except this time it felt different. Deeper. Harder. More intense. The pull behind your belly button crashed through you and you felt like you jumped out of your body for a moment. You clenched down on him, moaning as he plunged deeper inside you.

“Sweetheart, you keep doing that, I’m not gonna last much longer.”

Then don’t, the words were on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t get them out. Instead, all Bradley got from you was another slow and deep roll of your hips, followed by a strangled cry. He kept murmuring your name in your ear, saying how good you felt around his cock, how warm you were, how sweet you tasted as he licked your neck. Again, you could tell he was close as his thrusts got sloppier.

Five. Five. Five. Almost there. Almost there - oh!

“Bradley,” you cried out, gripping his hand on your breasts to try and anchor yourself to something because you felt like you were about to jump out of your skin. His dick was so big and stretched you just so.   

“Five,” Bradley said. He bit your shoulder and you spasmed around him, before he followed suit, shooting his cum inside you. You whimpered at the sensation, feeling so full and dirty and beautiful, and shook in Bradley’s arms. 

After both of you caught your breath, Bradley slipped out of you and the two of you laid on the bed, heads on the pillows, bodies tucked under the sheets, chests rising heavily as you stared at the ceiling in awe. 

You had never felt like this before. Five. Five. Five. Bradley. Bradley. Bradley. 

“Fuck,” Bradley stretched the word out. He crossed his forearms over his forehead and took another deep breath. “That - that was -” he broke off.

You arched your back one final time and stretched out on the bed before rolling back over towards him. You nuzzled his neck, trying to get as close to him as possible. But it wasn’t enough - you needed to be closer. You wanted to have his arms wrapped around you. You wanted to lick where the sweat was beading on his neck. You wanted him to consume you. Tell you that you were good. That you had done a good job. 

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you whispered back. 

He tucked your hair behind your ear. “You alright, kid?” You smiled and nodded. “You did such a good job - always do such a good job.”

You preened under the praise and started peppering kisses across Bradley’s shoulder and neck. He was so pretty and warm and smelled so good. So pretty, so warm. Bradley, Bradley, Bradley. 

After a moment, he tipped your chin up so you could meet his eyes and then pressed his lips to yours. Without breaking the kiss, you sprawled out on top of him with your legs on either side of his hips. Some of the cum still inside you even made its way onto his stomach with the new position - you weren’t supposed to waste any of it. You promised you wouldn’t -

It took Bradley saying your name twice for you to pull back for a moment. “Why don’t we get you cleaned up?”

You laid your cheek down on his chest and started tracing the freckles on his biceps with your finger. “Wanna sleep right here.”

“You can,” he gave you a quick peck on the lips, “we just gotta do a couple things first, alright?”

Bradley rolled over so now he was leaning over you and pressed a kiss to your lips before he climbed out of bed. He pulled you over towards the edge of the bed and let your feet dangle off the side. “Now where’s my - aha.”

He grabbed his white tuxedo shirt that had been discarded on the floor earlier and brought it over to you. 

“Arms out, kid.” Slowly, like you were wading through water, you held your arms up and Bradley slipped the shirt on you before fastening a couple buttons. “Alright, sit tight.”

He gave the wall lamp to your right another click and you squeezed your eyes shut at the slightly increased brightness. 

“Sorry,” he muttered, before picking up the phone hidden in the bedside nook and dialing for room service. “Yeah, hi. Can I get a large order of fries and two ginger ales - wait, do you have Gatorade? Oh - no, she only likes the blue - yeah, then just the ginger ales and fries? Uhhh room 4114, I think? Yeah, under Bradshaw. Okay, thanks - yeah, have a good night.” He hung up the phone.

Food. He ordered food. And a soda. You were hungry. And tired. Really tired. Your thighs ached. 

“Here.” Bradley grabbed a water bottle off the nightstand and gave it to you, cap off. You took a few greedy sips and then handed it back to him and he finished off the bottle. 

You were still sitting on the edge of the bed. You hadn’t moved. It was like you were still waiting for Bradley to tell you what to do next. Was Bradley happy with you? Did he still want you so close to him? Would he hold you? You wanted him to hold you. 

“Hey.” He was suddenly sitting next to you. Or maybe not - you felt like you were floating and had just gotten back on solid ground. Bradley grasped your chin. “Ahh, there she is. I’m gonna rinse off, you wanna come with me or stay in bed?” 

You cleared your throat. “Wanna go with you.”

He smiled and kissed you on your forehead. “Then let’s clean you up first - I’ll be right back.”

And true to his word - and more importantly before you could muster up a reply to tell him not to go - Bradley came right back holding a slightly wet hand towel. 

“Alright, kid, lay back.” 

You flopped back on the duvet, but your legs remained hanging off the edge of the bed. At first, you squirmed at the sudden warmth from the towel, but as Bradley ran it across your upper thighs and towards your still wet core, you couldn’t help but find it soothing. 

It felt nice - comforting - as he cared for you. You sighed and stretched, feeling like a cat. Languid and warm. Bradley chuckled and eventually stopped, but not before pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee. 

“All set, come on.”

He stood up from his spot between your legs and held his hands out for you to grab so you could sit up. Then you followed him into the bathroom. He got you situated on the counter before he hopped into the glass shower without even turning it on or allowing it to heat up. 

“You wanna come in with me?” You shook your head. No. The water was cold. You were warm - or at least you had been when you were in bed. And sure, you could have stayed there. But you wanted to be with Bradley.

So, after quickly going to the toilet while he got situated, you sat on the marble countertop, legs crossed at your ankles, and watched him. Watched the soap run down his body - down his tan chest and thick thighs - as he cleaned his body and scrubbed his face. 

Without a doubt, Bradley was the prettiest boy you’d ever seen. And he was yours. He was your boyfriend. He loved you. He wanted to spend time with you. And be with you. You you you you you. 

“You sure you don’t wanna come in with me?” Bradley teased you. “Or are you just gonna stare at me?”

Had you been more coherent, you probably would have made a quip about how he was the one with the soapy titties this time, but you just shook your head and said:

“You’re so beautiful.”

You could see the blush creep up his neck at your sudden honesty. The water shut off a moment later and then Bradley grabbed a fluffy white towel off the rack and dried off in the shower. He dried his hair first, making it all messy and fluffy, before he wrapped the towel around his waist and approached you. 

You swung your legs back and forth. “I look too pretty to go to bed.”

“Mmmhmm, way too pretty.” He kissed your forehead and then your lips. “But you’re gonna be mad at me if I let you go to bed with your makeup on…” 

He had a point, loathe as you were to admit it. But instead of doing your skincare routine yourself, Bradley was the one who got out your makeup remover and serum and night cream. Granted, he snuck a little for himself and rubbed at your eyes a little too hard to get your mascara off, but he did a good job. 

You had to draw the line at letting him brush your teeth for you, though, and did it yourself. 

And then finally, Bradley held his hand out for you to hop off the counter and the two of you went back to the bedroom where he threw on a pair of sleep shorts. You were still a little slow to the chase, so while he made the bed with the fresh sheets in the closet, you held two of the pillows close to your chest and watched from the foot of the bed. 

Luckily, Bradley shared your appreciation for hospital corners and tight sheets on a bed and once it was made to both your tastes, you slipped back in between the sheets. 

They felt just as scratchy as they had earlier in the evening, but were just how you liked them. Bradley made sure you were settled before he walked around to his side of the bed and let you snuggle up beside him. His body was so warm and he smelled so good and you felt your eyelids getting heavy. It was a miracle you hadn’t truly fallen asleep yet. You always got a little sleepy after you orgasmed once - let alone five times. 

Fuck - that had really happened. Bradley really loved you that much. More to the point, you really loved Bradley that much. 

“Bradley?” He hummed and looked down at you. “I don’t ever want to let you go.”

“Come here.” You scooched up and kissed him sloppily. Eventually, he let you go and you let out a sigh as your shirt rubbed against your sensitive breasts. “Rest. I’ll wake you up when the food’s here.”

That sounded really nice. “Mmm, okay.” You yawned. “Love you, bubs.”

“Love you too, kid.” And then he pressed a kiss to your forehead and you were asleep before you knew it. 

Some time later, a soft knock echoed throughout the room, but it didn’t seem loud enough to be coming from your door. You let out a soft grunt as you felt Bradley sit up in bed and begrudgingly opened your eyes. 

The knock repeated - again, sounding a bit far off still and couldn’t be at your door with room service - and Bradley glanced at you and you shrugged before he eventually got up to investigate. Shuffling across the room and down the short hallway, Bradley threw on a grey crewneck sweatshirt and swung open the door.

 A cacophony of voices soon hit your ears and that was when you realized that the bellhop wasn’t at your door delivering your french fries and ginger ales - he was at Jake and Sarah’s. 

“ - I’m telling you I didn’t order this and I don’t want to be charged for it -” 

You took that as your queue to join Bradley at the door and scampered out of bed. Mindful of the fact that Bradley’s shirt just barely covered your ass, you hid behind him. You were nosy - sue you.

Once you fell into Jake’s line of sight, you saw the eating grin on the blond’s face. He was clad in a pair of shorts and a ratty t-shirt. He didn’t look as handsome as Bradley did. 

“Well, now, look who it is? Rooster, this order of fries for you? Or Miss Chatty fucking Cathy?”

Bradley puffed out his chest, but largely ignored Jake and instead turned towards the bellhop, who was apologizing profusely about the mix up. 

Miss Chatty fucking Cathy who did he think he was?

“- This for Bradshaw?” 

The bellhop nodded and handed Bradley the slip to sign before he took off. He even left the cart there, which he probably wasn’t supposed to do. Taking a page out of Bradley’s book, you also patently ignored Jake and glanced at the french fries and ginger ales and glasses of pellet ice on the cart. You turned your focus back onto Bradley, completely ignoring what he was saying to Jake. It was like the blond man didn’t even exist to you at the moment.

God, Bradley was so smart, so kind, so thoughtful. He took such good care of you. The way he kissed that stretch mark you hated on your stomach or the way he knew to lift your hips up the first time he slipped inside you. He treated you like you were the most precious thing in the world - except when he didn’t and even then you still melted and keened in his arms. 

Oh, he was so perfect and handsome and beautiful. It was unreal how much you loved him - sometimes you wondered how he was yours? Just yours? He was so pretty and handsome. Pretty boy. 

His hair was still wet from his shower and the perfect amount of messy. Maybe he’d play with your hair later? Would he let you wear his sweatshirt? It was probably warm and soft and smelled like him. Like his fancy cologne and something so Bradley. You just wanted him to -

“- Jesus, Bradshaw, what’d you do to the poor girl?”

You blinked, realizing you had been staring at Bradley’s face - his beautiful, pretty face - for god knows how long and tucked yourself behind him. Luckily, you were too far out of it to be too embarrassed (that would come tomorrow). 

“I mean I heard what you were doing to her, but didn’t realize you also mauled her - Jesus, look at her thi -”

“- Don’t you dare fucking finish that sentence.” You felt yourself heat up at the timbre of Bradley’s voice. His entire body was tense and you squeezed his hand.

He was so protective, so strong. He loved to take care of you. He always wanted to take care of you. 

Take care of you. Take you. Take you. Take you. 

“Apologize.” His voice was like steel. “Now.”

Jake looked like he wanted to scoff or even laugh, but something in Bradley’s face must have scared him. “Fine, fine,” he turned to look at you, “my sincere apologies, darlin.’” You didn’t appreciate the nickname and neither did Bradley judging on the growl he let out. “Alright, Jesus, fuck. I’m sorry for any inappropriate comments I may have directed towards you, okay?” You glanced up at Bradley and then fleetingly back at Jake before nodding. 

“Alright, good - just promise you’ll knock twice on the wall if there’s going to be an encore, so I can know if I need to change rooms or not - enjoy the -” Bradley slammed the door shut in his face “- fries!”

“Fuck off,” he muttered and took your hand. It might have been a bit overkill for the short trip back to bed, but you couldn’t help but smile. “Sorry about that, you good?” You nodded. 

The room service cart rattled as it made the trip further in the room and your mouth watered at the smell of the fries. You failed to stifle a giggle once you heard Bradley’s stomach growl. 

“Hey,” he exclaimed, “you’re the one that made me work up an appetite!”

Both of you sat on the bed and got situated with your sodas on each nightstand and laid the fries between the two of you. For the first time, you noticed Bradley had turned the TV on low and watched as the closed captioning ran across the bottom of the screen. 

“Moonstruck?” He turned towards you and nodded. “I didn’t even hear it.”

He blushed. “You were pretty knocked out.”

You wrapped your legs around Bradley’s under the covers. “Well, no one’s ever made me feel like that before…”

“Oh, really?” He looked too cocky - though you supposed it may have had some merit that night. You threw a fry at him. “Hey, these are eighteen dollar fries, champ.” You threw another one, which in turn made Bradley take the plate onto his side of the king-sized bed. “Miss Moneybags thinks we can just waste these…” he muttered.

You giggled. You spent the next few minutes wordlessly holding out your hand, waiting for Bradley to give you a couple fries until he got tired of it and just gave you back the plate. It was amazing how half a plate of fries and some ginger ale could have you feeling like your normal self again. You still couldn’t get over how spacey and out of it you had been. The two of you needed to talk about it, do a debrief of sorts.

Trying to get his full attention, you pressed your foot against Bradley’s thigh under the covers. “Owww, Jesus fuck - your feet are cold.”

“Sorry,” you giggled, but continued rubbing them up and down Bradley’s shins. He made a funny face, but kept his eyes on the movie, trying to play it cool. 

You then handed him the plate of french fries balancing precariously on your side of the bed. Once the plate was placed on the nightstand, Bradley wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close. A huge rush of affection surged through you for the man beside you. 

He just made you happy. Every little thing about him. He made you happy. He made you better. 

“I like when you take care of me.” Your face was buried so deeply in his chest, you didn’t think he had heard you until he pressed a kiss to your forehead. You tilted your head up to look at him. “You’re always so good to me. Make me feel so safe. Never trusted anyone else enough to do that.”

Bradley blushed. “Well, I - I was worried it was too much sometimes and I liked when you told me to slow down - well, liked is the wrong word, but I’m -” he cleared his throat, “we’ve never had to do that, but I’m glad you said something.”

“I am too. Like I said, you always make me feel safe.”

The two of you turned your focus back to the movie. It was your favorite part - Loretta was waiting for Ronny at Lincoln Center. It was all so romantic: La Boheme and Christmas lights -

Bradley cleared his throat, but kept watching the TV. “I know we don’t do that a lot…” That was putting things mildly. “But I really liked it - making you feel good - because it makes me feel go -”

“- You can say it turned you on, Bradley. It was rather obvious.” He finally turned to look at you. His cheeks were red - something you wouldn’t have found possible after all you had done together that evening. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Well…I’m pretty sure everyone in our hallway could hear how much it turned you on, so don’t think that’ll matter too much...” 

Your mouth gaped open in shock and then you both dissolved into giggles. Your hands snuck under the covers and tickled Bradley’s sides, getting even more giggles out of him and he quickly followed suit. 

“And can I - Bradley!” He stopped tickling you, but you had to take a breath to control your giggling. “Can I tell you something else?” He hummed. “I liked imagining you were watching us in the mirror above the bed.”

A smile slowly crept across his face. “Really?”

“Mmmhhmm. ‘Kept thinking about what I looked like, what you looked like - all of it.” You felt your cheeks heating up at the thought. You had a full length mirror in your walk-in closet that could definitely provide a different point of view. 

It was like Bradley had read your thoughts when he said: “Maybe we can figure out something for our anniversary…”

“Six months.”

He kissed you. “Six months.”

“Are you gonna give me six orgasms then?” You wouldn't make it to seven months in your relationship if Bradley tried to give you six orgasms. 

“I don’t know if you’re ready for that, kid.”

You giggled. “Probably not.” 

The two of you went back to mindlessly snacking on your fries and watching the movie. The fries were absolutely delicious and you were tickled that they remembered to give you mayo, something Bradley always made fun of you for liking. 

By now, Loretta had found her father at intermission and both of them agreed not to have seen each other. Your favorite part was coming up soon, but seeing the awkward scene in the movie, you couldn’t help, but think of your own similar moment from earlier. 

“I’m sorry if I made things awkward with Jake...”

Bradley’s jaw twitched and he took a long sip of his ginger ale before replying. “‘s not your fault Hangman’s an ass.” 

“Still, I feel bad.” Your voice came out small. 

“You,” he kissed your cheek, “are absolutely perfect and,” he kissed your nose, “I will gladly take any teasing Hangman sends my way if it means I get to think of you like that again.” He kissed your lips. “Got it?”

You ducked your head. “Got it.”

“Alright, good. Now there’s something really important I need to talk to you about…”

The impish smile on Bradley’s face prevented you from truly spiraling and instead you couldn’t help but giggle. “Go on.”

“How can I get you to wear that dress for me again? Because - not that I’m complaining - but I didn’t even get to take it off y - hey!” 

You slid your hands underneath the duvet and started tickling Bradley’s sides in earnest. He soon joined in, attacking you instead.

The sound of your collective laughter and giggles and shrieks would surely keep your neighbors up for a little longer still. 

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

The next morning, after a hearty breakfast delivered to your room - thankfully not by the same busboy - you supervised the bellhops as they put your various garment bags and assorted weekenders into the Bronco while Bradley checked out.

It had been a hell of a weekend. You had fucking ran Bradley ragged last night, to say nothing about the sloppy blow job he’d finally let you give him that morning. He had gotten an award, gotten to dance with you, gotten a slightly better handle on his nerves, and even gotten to one-up Hangman. 

So, in Bradley’s books it was a win and he was more than happy to sign for the hundred and fifty dollars worth of room charges you’d both racked up over the last two days. He even got three times the points for it on his card. 

From beside him at the checkout counter, Maverick cleared his throat. “So, I heard you kids had a good time last night.” Bradley froze, but Maverick just continued looking over his bill. 

Fuck. Bradley had never had parents around to catch him sneaking around or having sex, but this very much felt like he had. He was going to get so much shit now. Because Hangman he could handle, but Mav? 

Mav would probably go off on him about respecting girls and not calling them degrading names while having sex - nevermind that the girl in question liked to be called a pathetic slut or a whiny little whore in bed.  

Plus, Bradley hadn’t thought he had been that loud, right? He didn’t know where Maverick and Penny had been staying last night, but there wasn’t a room on the other side of yours and there was no way it traveled further down the hallway, right? 

(Though to be fair, you had elected to have room service for breakfast due to the smattering of marks Bradley had left on your neck and upper thighs. Because Jake hadn’t necessarily been wrong when he said it looked like Bradley had mauled you. It was another reason you had elected to supervise the luggage - outside. Alone.)

It felt like there were a handful of cotton balls in his mouth. “Wha - where’d you hear that?” 

“Penny?” Maverick said as he looked at Bradley like he had seven heads. “She mentioned dancing with you and how nice of a time you were having considering all the - well, all the stress and pageantry.” 

“Oh.” His cheeks were burning. “Yeah, yeah. Great time last night. Good time.” 

“Yeah…” He then said how nice it had been to spend time with you, too. “Where is she by the way? We missed you guys at breakfast.”

The two men finished up with the desk clerk and then made their way across the lobby to where Penny was standing. You were still outside. 

“Oh, we uhh got room service. Had a bit of a lie-in.”

Penny chuckled. “Bet you did - hey, you know Hangman was complaining about some noise last night to everyone at breakfast earlier. You hear anything about -”

“- Oh shit, I gotta go. The car’s ready.” He had no idea if the car was ready. “But I’ll talk to you guys later, nice to see you both. Have a good weekend.”

And before either of them could protest to the kiss Bradley laid on both their foreheads, he was already halfway across the lobby and hellbent on getting to the safety of you and his car. 

Yup. His parents had heard him having sex. Monday morning was sure to be fun. 

Outside, Bradley searched the valet stand for the Bronco and saw it - and you - further down the line behind a navy Lexus. You weren’t in the car yet and looked to be reading over something on your phone. 

“All set,” Bradley called out and you glanced up at him and slipped your phone into your pocket, watching him as he made his way towards you. 

You were dressed casually in your same denim shorts and another button down, which was sticking out from underneath his crew neck sweatshirt. The sunglasses perched on the top of your head only added to your artfully disheveled appearance. Though, tragically, the marks on your neck and chest were covered. 

“What was the damage?” you asked, referring to the room charges. 

Bradley pecked you on the lips. “One fifty.”

“Not awful.”

“Blame the eggs benedict for breakfast.” They had been worth every penny for the record. “All set with the bags?”

“Yup,” you popped the p. “What’s the plan for the rest of the day?”

You leaned back against the passenger door and Bradley crowded into your space before pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. He couldn’t resist you. Everything about you made him so happy. Who else wanted to spend the day together after being attached at the hip all weekend?

“Can we go back to yours? Take a nap?” Bradley liked how the sun hit your living room in the  late afternoon. There was nothing like snuggling up with you on your couch and watching football on a Sunday afternoon. You had the prettiest candles and softest throw blankets at your place, too. He’d have to get some for the house eventually, but was more than happy to hunker down at your place today. 

You nodded and looked exceptionally pleased he had even brought it up. “And I can finally take care of you, bubs.”

There was enough innuendo in that sentence to stop him cold. “You’ve taken care of me plenty this weekend, I need to rest up.”

A gasp of faux indignation slipped past your lips. “And here I was talking about the new sheet masks I got, all while you’re planning to debauch me again!”

Bradley chuckled and pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before opening your door and waiting for you to get situated in the car. He wheeled around the front of the car to his own side and got in. 

“Debauch is a strong word, no?” He started the car and turned up the radio. “Been reading too many romance novels lately?”

“I’m never letting you use my Kindle again…” 

He laughed. “Fine, fine. Lemme just take you home, kid, and we can discuss the semantics behind debauched and defiled all you want.”

an: thanks to everyone for reading and all the positive comments and feedback about the teaser the last few days! i'd be remiss if i didn't thank @sometimesanalice, @heartsofminds, @howdysebby, @notroosterbradshaw, @dissonannce, @cherrycola27, and @ofstoriesandstardust for liking and giving me all caps feedback on all the very random screenshots i've sent you guys over the last couple weeks! the next thing i'm going to post for these two is an epistolary while bradley's deployed! x jordan

[emilysidhe]

I just finished A Desolation Called Peace by Arkady Martine, the sequel to A Memory Called Empire, and I *loved* them both, but I’m still going to point out a few nit-picks I have with it, in order of petty to significant:

I do love and appreciate Mahit’s prioritizing her need to keep her sense of self as non-Teixcalaanli by refusing to live in the City until she’s certain that her love of its culture won’t consume her. Nevertheless, as a reader I continue to be more stressed out than the text wants me to be about how and when the Stationers’ visa applications are being processed when their sole-ambassador-who-has-no-staff is two months’ space travel away from her office on Teixcalaan. The one line about having her mail forwarded did not help!

A high-tech space empire typified by massive bureaucracy and high education standards that’s made first contact with aliens at least once before *must* have actual, qualified xeno-linguists somewhere in its government or academia. Three Seagrass assigning herself and Mahit to the task of deciphering an unknown alien language basically because she’s bored at her desk job and wants an excuse to see Mahit again is a way bigger deal than the characters or the text ever acknowledge. They are already having a border war with this species and the stakes of figuring out how to talk to them are so high, and Three Seagrass is like, “Well, as a poet, I’m really good at my own language and Mahit must be good at figuring out foreign languages and cultures since she understands ours so well, so that’s basically the same as being an actual linguist right?” No. I understand that taking someone with official qualifications along would have added another original character to an already expanded cast, and undercut Three Seagrass’s already flimsy excuses to drag Mahit into this, and created a third wheel to get in the way of developing Three Seagrass’ and Mahit’s relationship, but if the author wasn’t going to do it, there should have been either a stronger in-universe justification for Three Seagrass and Mahit to have at least no worse chance of success than a real language specialist like the Fleet requested, or a greater acknowledgement of how huge a dereliction of duty deciding to take an unqualified crack at this herself actually was.

Avoiding explicit spoilers, I didn’t like the resolution to the Darj Tarats subplot. Him being present in the final scene felt very contrived and also pointless. I kept wondering why, from a story perspective, he was even there - right up until his final line, which was like, “well, I guess I know why he had to be here for the story now, but I’m not sure this justifies him adding nothing to that whole previous scene.”

Also, why was he there from a character perspective? Like, he tells Dekakel Onchu that he’s going to do something, and then he doesn’t really seem to try to do that, he just - yells at Mahit in front of the Teixcalaanlitzlim like he thinks if he just berates her harshly enough she’ll make the battle go how he wants with - idk, magic I guess? - even though the general he wants her to manipulate is standing right there listening to all this. I get that he’s supposed to be a ruthless and power-abusing man who has spent so long obsessing over one idea for a master plan that he’s lost sight not only of the moral ramifications but also practical questions about whether it would even work the way he envisioned even if his agents obeyed him completely and has nothing left but to take it out on them when they don’t and it doesn’t, but I’m not sure that he’s intended to come off quite as foolish and shortsighted as he ultimately does.

Anyway, despite what it sounds like, I did genuinely love both of these books (somehow it’s easier to list problems than to genuinely enthuse about all the things I loved!), and I’m really looking forward to rereading them in the context of what I now know from having read them and to seeing what else the author writes in this universe.

[zeroducks-2]

So, you've inspired me to add some scenes that lean into the Eobard/Barry element that I accidentally wrote into my big long fic Chained, and I figured you might enjoy thinking about it (without having to wade through the whole dang fic lol I have no idea if you've read it/if it's of any interest to you, but I'm assuming you haven't/it's not)

The story revolves around a contract that grants genuine omnipotence. The catch is that it requires two people to sign it - the person who actually gains the power must be permanently bound into the service of their cosigner and the power is only gained through carrying out their commands.

Flash and Reverse Flash were highlighted as prominent figures battling it out over this thing, both being potential signers. Hundreds of iterations of them overlapping in time were ever present across the whole of the battlefield in arcs of light as they fought each other on a scale that no one else could hope to match. I was really only pulling names out of a hat back then (it was supposed to be a silly crack fic one-shot) but now that I've read a lot of your stuff about them, tricking/forcing Barry to sign the contract with him really strikes me as an Eobard thing to do!

Neither Barry nor Eobard signed it in the continuity the fic is going with, obvs, but there could be an off shoot branch where they did! And idk it feels like this premise might could really work to bring out their particular hangups with themselves and each other!

I'm super curious as to whether you think Eobard would try to be the one commanding an omnipotent Barry or if he'd want to chain Barry to him by becoming the power he needed to wield in order to save everything (- and maybe what circumstances might make Barry say yes to either one?)

-redhoodinternaldialectical from the "main" blog

Also pls have the words of the binding ritual for imagining Barry and Eobard saying them to each other purposes:

“I dedicate myself to submission. I shall bend my will to that of another. I relinquish my control so that I may be a vessel for the glorious ambitions of my Master. I shall be made unstoppable through obedience to my Master’s unslakeble will. I am the ultimate weapon. I am the ultimate tool. I am the hound which shapes the world to its Master’s whims. I mark myself with a collar made from liquid soul.” ... “Now I sit in waiting for the one who will be my Master.” “I seek to provide the glorious ambitions which will fill you and empower you. I seek to ascend beyond the fate decreed to be mine by forces more powerful than even the highest gods. Am I worthy of you, O’ ultimate weapon? Am I worthy of you, O’ ultimate tool? Will you accept me for now and all eternities beyond eternity, as your only Master?”

Hello hello, I had no idea you were redhoodinternaldialectical from the main blog and just followed you here because your blog is cool as fuck LMAO

I have not in fact read Chained, but from what I'm seeing here it seems interesting. I do ship Jaytim even if casually, I'll gladly go give it a look :)

I can see Eobard trying to manipulate Barry into signing the thing and belong to him forever. Eobard wants Barry to want it. He is canonically faster, stronger, with more powers up his sleeve than any other speedster - he could force Barry to do whatever if he tried hard enough, but he doesn't because ultimately he wants Barry to understand and be willing. That being said he's not immune to using very low tricks to get Barry to say yes to things, and if he managed he'd surely be overjoyed and would also go on a power trip about it because finally Flash belongs to him indissolubly, there's nothing which can come between them for the rest of eternity, he's his and only his forever - but.

But if Barry asked Eobard to sign, and to belong to him? "Be omnipotent and be mine, forever" ? Eobard would drop to his knees, cry and say yes. He might regret it afterwards, he might have a hard time coping with the loss of freedom because freedom is so very important to him. But if Barry asked it would feel like trust, like love, like he's wanted. It would feel like Barry - which could have chosen to spend eternity with anyone else - chose him.

I also think that in the face of an incredibly powerful enemy which will destroy/subjugate the multiverse, and with no other option, Barry would give himself to Eobard. He would need a clause to the contract which specifies that he won't be forced to hurt any of the people he loves or something along those lines, and then he would "sacrifice himself" with his head held high. He did it already after all! He killed himself to prevent the Anti-Monitor from using him to power his weapons, and effectively saved everyone, and stayed dead for a whopping 23 years (until Eobard brought him back that is). And that one time Eobard said "run away with me" and Barry said "yes if you leave my family alone"? That's also pretty indicative of how self-sacrificing Barry is. Or maybe indicative of how he wouldn't be so opposed to running away with Eobard after all, but don't tell them I said that.

Honestly all the options would be super interesting. I think ultimately they would fall into the right rhythm regardless of which one is the "bound" one, even if it would surely take some trial and error. It's really fascinating to think about, thank you SO MUCH for sharing this with me! I will rotate it in my head for a while and let you know if anything else comes to mind!

[ravensvirginity]

I just saw your post about Raven’s relationship to sex and I knew it was probably sort of out there in the comics, but I didn’t actually know her total origin.

I’m like, half working on this DCYA graphic novel concept around and older Raven (idk how she ages, but the concept art I’ve made has her in her mid to late thirties), adopting a younger relative found on another planet. I don’t really know the lore well, so I wasn’t sure if younger half brother, or nephew, or something else makes the most sense, and I was basing him loosely off of Razer from Green Lantern the animated series.

The story is ultimately more about him and his love interest because it’s a YA concept, but I thought it was interesting I got some of the Raven lore right on accident. As the story idea revolved around a teenage alien with powers tied to strong emotions falling in love with a robot who secretly has a soul and the drama and angst that comes with it. I had him ask Raven how to have a relationship when you have emotion powers and her answer was basically you don’t.

My logic was stemming from her powers and also the fact I can’t really think of any love interests that make sense to me (Damien and Beast Boy being the only two, and I don’t really care for either as a love interest tbh). But the trauma of what happened to her mother would add a dimension to it, since this adopted son character would not really know much if anything about the demon side of his family.

Anyways, I really need to read the classic comics! Sorry is this is sort of incoherent lol, I’m running on not a lot of sleep. But I just wanted to share my idea and Raven concept. I’m glad I found this blog because a lot of the modern Raven stuff feels like a flanderization of the 03 show. I imagine the departure is even stronger to a fan of the OG raven.

Okay wow, you have no idea how excited this ask made me! I would love to hear more about your graphic novel concept. It sounds really fun!

I think either half brother or nephew could work, though I'd personally lean more towards half brother. In the original version of Raven and Trigon, Raven is his only surviving child after over a hundred failed attempts. However, this was retconned in 2008 and since then Raven has had some form of either brothers or siblings in general (generally she's relegated to being the only girl though).

That being said, there is a noncanon graphic novel that takes place during the 80s timeline where it's revealed that Raven had a forgotten sister who kind of slipped through the cracks. Her sister goes insane without anyone to teach her how to use her powers, and Trigon doesn't know she exists so she's just kind of left to languish on Earth. I feel like this is the most similar to your concept! New Teen Titans: Games, though I'd recommend reading the regular series before you read the graphic novel.

"I had him ask Raven how to have a relationship when you have emotion powers and her answer was basically you don’t." This is incredibly Raven imo. I think she could mostly be a good mentor, but she has a lot of baggage related to how she was trained to use her powers and her trauma from Trigon in general, and she'd probably inadvertently end up passing that along to a sibling who has the same heritage as her.

Yeah, I'm not big on either of those ships either. Raven having to teach her relative about their family would be so interesting and is such a fun concept! Unfortunately, I'd imagine that he would have been conceived in a very similar way to Raven, given the way Trigon behaves. I'd be really curious to know what happened to his mother and how he ended up in Raven's care. Seriously, I'd love to read this story!

I totally recommend the classic comics, I love them dearly. While some elements of them have definitely aged poorly, I don't think any future version of Raven managed to be better than the original. I really agree about modern Raven feeling like a flanderization of 03 Raven, unfortunately. Toon Raven is not a perfect adaptation of Raven's original comic characterization and there are changes that I would've never made myself, but she's a much better version of Raven than whatever is going on in the current comics. Her current appearance and personality is really like someone trying and failing to guess what made toon Raven popular and pumping out an almost completely unrecognizeable character as a result.

Thanks again for this ask, feel free to send me more if you'd like! I'm always so happy to talk about Raven.

[pleuvoire]

ok *cracks knuckles* kamen rider main riders and if i think they ever fucked before the beginning of their series (during is frequently another matter)

hongo - hmm i don’t think so. he seems like the Focused On School Right Now type. maybe he had a girlfriend or boyfriend before though who knows

hayato - abso fucking lutely. 70s gay slut representation

kazami - yeah he has chad energy. i don’t think his family knew he was gay but that’s another story

jin - well he had a fiance so i guess he did get laid but he also has such awkward vibes i would believe it if you told me he was waiting for marriage

amazon - NO!!!!!!!

shigeru - haven’t seen stronger yet but by all accounts this guy is a megachad

hiroshi - i don’t know a god damn thing about this guy i’m sorry

kazuya - nerd. i don’t think he fucks.

koutarou - used to fool around with his biker boyfriend from ep 4 nothing past third base though

godai - yes. laid-back hippie type? absolutely. and he’s great at it too

tsugami - i think so. i mean i know he’s amnesiac and idk what all happened before his amnesia but he seems like he gets bitches also i only saw three episodes but i think that professor guy he’s living with might be his sugar daddy

shinji - honestly i go back and forth on shinji. DURING the rider war he gets laid left and right but it’s mostly because of stumbling into the arms of men who want to bend him over a table and kill him at the same time so i’m kind of inclined to think he just didn’t really think about sex and romance before because he was just focused on his career? but he’s also easy to seduce so if there was some determined guy in his past then.... who knows! it’s funny if kitaoka took his virginity in episode 8 though

takumi - absolutely not. hates people. too depressed to be horny. not happening

kenzaki - yeah kenzaki absolutely has a few brojobs (blowjobs between bros) in his past

hibiki - god, yes. absolutely. he’s 30 and irresistible. furthermore i think the oni all have regular orgies in the woods *wipes drool from mouth* sorry what

tendou - the guy doms every man he appears on screen with, no way this is his first rodeo

ryoutarou - no i don’t think so. i think he is not opposed to the idea of getting laid but is focusing on helping out at the cafe and stuff atm. also his bad luck works against him in the area of getting some

wataru - no. shut-in.

tsukasa - yeah he was boning daiki

shoutarou does NOT get bitches

eiji - same principle as godai. he’s a laid-back hippie who travels all around the world, sure he’s getting laid. i mean yeah yeah no desires and stuff but also i think he’ll probably say yes if you ask

haruto - i think he has fucked a handful of times but is on a hiatus from fucking due to depression and having better things to think about

kouta has big virgin energy

shinnosuke probably had a girlfriend before or something

takeru has never fucked

emu definitely had a steady boyfriend in college and probably some casual sex as well, he knows what’s up

sento - could go either way but i don’t think so. dude was focused on science also he was ugly. but maybe he sucked some dick in his time you never know

sougo is two inches tall how could you ask me this

aruto is a cartoon character and if he ever learns what sex is he’ll explode

no clue on touma. he feels pretty sexless to me but i haven’t watched that much saber so who knows

i think ikki was always too busy with the bathhouse and family obligations to pursue that sort of thing

ACE FUCKS. ACE FUCKS BIG TIME. i made a version of this list back this summer and was like “god i hope the geats protag fucks because reiwa riders have been so sexless” GREAT NEWS PAST ME!!!! ACE FUCKS!!!!!

[blaqueswanzaghouliishiilikeda]

What theories do you got for the end of season 2?

hii 🫶🏾

sorry i’m so late with this. i haven't been online too much lately. So theories??? man i’m not really engaging with much speculation as far as S2 goes. mainly bc i don’t think i have the ideas that will happen how my mind is formulating them. also bc they would be based off of nothing but what ive seen said about the books and vibes i got from S1 lmao. i’m so sorry if i disappoint you my ideas. here’s what i hope…

S2 will focus on loumand in the past and in the present maybe Armand might get to contribute to the telling of things. I’m very fucking excited for loumand. Idk how to not lose my mind about this! it’ll be interesting to me if there’s points of contention between how louis remembers something and how he does. what happened to Claudia and how coming out in this contention would be really fun to watch. “the love of my life” seems to be something that’s gonna come undone next season. seeing how they came together. seeing what makes their relationship tick. seeing the cracks in what their dynamic is now. seeing how Daniel’s tendency to be provocative and rude when he feels endangered will impact things or how it will shift now that he knows Rashid is actually Armand—now that he realizes he’s been talking to an even stronger vampire crazy out the side of his neck. and he’s greatly out numbered rn. i want to see if Daniel tries to run and leave and how they might convince him to stay or if he decides to stay what lends to that decision. the book? answers that he wants? im sure it’ll be many things.

I wonder if they will put off the hows of how Lestat finds his way to Paris since no one but him would really have all that information. I think with seeing Sam and Assad hanging out off set there will be some Armand/Lestat scene to look forward too. they’re gonna fight and its gonna be nasty and full of tension and armand longing for lestat while lestat longs for louis and he’s [lestat] gonna get that look in his eye were he agrees to something he know damn well he shouldnt in the name of saving louis. its gonna be delicious. Im excited to see that.

I hope we only really get hints of the devil’s minion stuff and i hope a good chunk of most of it happens in the modern day so they can have lots to fill coming seasons with. i want S2 to be more about loumand anyways. THO i do want them to put the fear of the devil into that man. I want him to really come to terms with what the fuck situation he’s in and I want Louis and Armand to make him feel it for real. I want the cracks in his dynamic with them and his supposed superior morality to start to show.

I think the situation with Louis might make Claudia desperate for another connection by the time it’s clear Louis is stuck in the past and longing for Lestat. Her hatred for him i think is soemthing we’ll see develop in it’s fullness. i hope she’s just as petty as she’s been. there wa a post about her playing piano and playing bach even tho she knows it torment him. i love that post. i wish i had it in me to find it. that post is genius. but yeah so i think she’d even accept the mother like way Madeleine treats her even tho she’s been looking to be treated like an equal bc anything is better than where they find themselves in terms of being stuck together after all thats happened and the spector of him choking her and lestat being spared because of him always looming over them. i think that adds to the sheer sadness of her situation. the living truth that yeah lestat is alive and louis would have him even now. and then the realization that he would also have armand who wants her dead clearly. i think someone who seems to “see her” would be preferable. but bc i know this is the painshow i cant say that they’re dynamic won’t be hard to watch. i think it will. I think madeleine will be working out her own trauma in losing her family on Claudia and it’ll be really clear that Claudia will always be choosing the lesser of an evil. i think they’ll play with our minds and hearts about what they could be, but ultimately they’re doomed and she’ll still wind up dead. and apparently so does madeleine even after being turned soo.. yeah i’m about to be heart shattered behind claudia.

sorry if these are disappointing. but yeah that’s as far as i’ve got. tho i’m sure i’ll think of something else and make a post about it. but i havent really wanted to speculate too much on S2 beyond being horny about loumand. maybe we’ll see their dungeon!

[the-crow-binary]

🔥 for ships ? Both as in specific ships or shipping in general

Welllll :3

Talking about ships in general, i'm all for shipping whoever you want (in terms of fictional characters, that is). The way i see shipping, it's not so different from engaging in certain activities with other consensual adults/people of the same age as you, wether it being sexual or not. It can be a safe way to experiment whatever you want, when it's not just straight up fun/interesting. (you go girl, ship that abusive relationship ! write about it ! make it worse why don't ya <3 as long as you know it's an abusive relationship and don't condone it irl, ofc <3) People just need to stop forgetting the line beetween fiction and reality everytime something they don't like happens (I'm not into quite a few things but i also don't care if others are. liking something in fiction doesn't mean you like it irl. i mean i'm an afab loving women who simps for fictional men lmao, there's many things people are into when it's fictional but not irl, like, psychopath characters. i just don't see why suddenly what you like in fiction automatically means it's what you like irl when it comes to more "sensitive" subjects)

NOW ONTO SPECIFIC SHIPS (everything from this point forward is Castlevania only because i'm obsessed):

Mathias x Leon: LEON TOPS. MATHIAS BOTTOM. TIRED OF MATHIAS TOPPING. PRETTY BLOND BOY HAS A MANHOOD TOO LET HIM USE IT ON HIS BESTIE !! (not to mention i think Leon is physically stronger than Mathias, wich is kinky, and also, smoll top toll bottom <3 well the height difference isn't that big but still)

Walter x Joachim: Same as Mathias/Leon. LET JOACHIM TOP !!! Let Walter manipulate him by making him feel in control even though he's just a pawn in his mischievious hands <3

Alucard x Maria: Is it even a popular ship ? Idk. But i don't like it. I don't feel the chemistry, Maria going after him seems too forced, it's like a cheap DracuLisa knockoff and THEY didn't get ONE SCENE together lmao (though Richter was cute for encouraging her to go even though he must've been in SHAMBLES after the traumatic events he just went through)

Dracula x anyone: i am once again advocating for letting Dracula switch once in a while. Lisa definitely pegged him

Soma x Mina: Big meh for me. Especially because i prefer to imagine Mina as being Sarah's reincarnation rather than Lisa/Elisabetha even if it's probably not the idea intended lol (Mathias x Sarah ? That sure is an awkward crack!ship) But also, none of them really impress me... eh.

Idk what over ship to talk about... but in terms of ships i have that are unpopular, well...

Dracula x Mathias (i have two reasons to ship it: one because it's hot. two because it can make for a nice story about self-love and the bitter acceptation of your fate <3)

Dracula x his Castle (I AM ONCE AGAIN STATING THAT DRACULA WILL NOT STUCK HIS PP INTO THE WALLS. THIS IS A STORY OF ABSTRACT LOVE)

Isaac x Trevor (?? is it even unpopular idk. It shouldn't be. I mean have y'all seen THE STABBING SCENE ?? And have you seen it in JAPANESE ??? WITH THE ASMR KING ISAAC ??)

Isaac x Grant (it started as a joke but i'm not so sure anymore)

Mathias x Walter (They did not get to interact in the game and it should count as a CRIME. I WANT TO SEE THE SCENE WHERE MATHIAS SEDUCES WALTER WITH HIS WORDS AND PROBABLY OTHER THINGS AS WELL. I WANT TO SEE THE TWO MANIPULATIVE BASTARDS TRYING TO GET INTO EACH OTHER'S HEADS AND PANTS. THEY !!! GAH)

Will I dare include a ship with Benedict ? Yes i will. BB x Isaac they're just so good for each other

Anyway. It's all that comes to mind for now <3

[mamachu]

Thinking abt a darling who doesn't mind the yan being overly rough, in fact encourages it idk bruh I just felt like being deranged n it's 4 am. Pathetic reader agenda mayhaps

TW: includes from Twst, Genshin, Idv and black survival (in that order), Nsfw, Physical abuse, dubcon, hair pulling, blood(as lube and no lube), mentions of bone breaking, anal, Beidou has a dick, Childe is only in this bc he fits don't get ahead of yourselves

JACK(howl) who feels extremely guilty about it. He has such a moral high ground and doesn't wanna hurt you :( but as soon as you slip something into his drink even just once he's already chomping down on you in a frenzy. The blood that leaks from whatever accidental wound left makes good replacement for lube in the heat of the moment. Bonus points if darling is extremely smaller than him, he'll encase himself around you with ease, no escape present from whatever you've gotten yourself in. Absolutely plunges yourself on his monster of a cock, all the while holding you down with his much stronger strength. Apologizes A LOT the morning afterwards

FLOYD, a complete 180 from Jack (as expected), who would absolutely adore this type of darling. He can squeeze you as much as he wants and you won't even complain about it ! Toss you over his shoulders, manhandle you, pull roughly on your scalp, grope you a little too rough. He drags you into the sea with him and wraps his eel form around you tightly, would you rather him take you now like this or rough you up a bit more beforehand? It doesn't matter to him either way, you'll always be his favorite little willing stress toy, one he can always bruise up to his liking

-

CHILDE would enjoy this type of darling too. Knowing how excited engaging in fights gets him it's no surprise that a darling who purposefully encourages him to get rough with them would turn him on. It doesn't matter whether or not you know how to fight, he's definitely not holding back with you. Once you're completely beaten down for him he'll take you in that poor state right then and there, all bruised and beaten and he's using your hole as if it were a flesh light. He'll be alot rougher if you still have enough energy left to try and fight him too, but worry not, his grip is iron tight in your hair

BEIDOU is eccentric! She's really trying to be nice but she just can't help but skewer you on her cock and fuck you so roughly in front of the rest of her crew. Using that harsh tight rope to tie you up and then hold you down with a singular hand as she pounds into you from behind. There's no preparation for this either, she gets too lost in the moment watching the way your ass collides into her hips with every snap. Her hands grip too harshly around your chin and force you to face her with the embarrassing little expressions of pain and pleasure on your face.

-

JACK purposefully rips through your clothes with just enough pressure it slices bits of your skin, leaving very evident claw marks. His behavior towards this type of darling doesn't differ from the normal yet he appreciates how you willingly let him do with you as he pleases and don't fight with his rough handling. He'll tower over you regardless and still gets to watch how much you squirm underneath him so I doubt there'd be a major change. Absolutely let's the crust of blood that came from his claws serve as "lube". Specifically similar to Childe whereas he takes you right after knocking you down, you were just too tempting my dear, it's as if you wanted him to tear right through you.

YIDHRA is another one who also takes no major changes. It's in her sadistic nature to torture you already after all. Letting her talon esk nails leave little patterns around your skin, bruising in a dark red as she wraps her self around you and squeezes you tight enough to the point it feels like your suffocating, own bones threatening to crack under her weight. Her idea of 'rough' comes through the games she plays with your mind, many empty threats that have you on your feet squeezing your thighs together in thought of what she can do to you

-

LUKE will never outwardly show how much he loves this kind of darling. He acts like he doesn't wanna hurt you yet immediately pounces on you the moment you show weakness with your back turned to him. Completely fucks you up and you won't even know it's him during the act. It's a mixture of a one sided fight with the addition of his cock bullying itself into your asshole giving you no room to breathe. I'd like to think he acts all sweet with you afterwards when you meet again outside the games, acting as if he wasn't the one to put you in such a poor state in the first place.

ECHION is exactly like Childe but in a bit of a dumb way. Always itching for a fight with anyone who will gladly take him on. Yet you're confusing to him, you want him to fight you yet make no moves to defend yourself? It's probably a turn off at first but eventually he comes to appreciate it knowing how he can take advantage of your willingness outside of the games. It's not counted as "violence outside the games" if you're willingly letting him force you down like this. It's not like anyone wants to get in between you both anyways when he's plowing his thick rod into your behind.

Stan loona

[suguruverse]

— HAIKYUU BOYS WHEN YOU PULL A APRIL FOOLS PRANK ON THEM

includes - suna rintarou, oikawa tooru, iwaizumi hajime and bokuto koutaro

a/n - don’t ask why i posted this a day late but pls enjoy <33

published date - 02/04/21

↳ SUNA RINTAROU

- sick of your bullshit 1.0

- he thought you just making his lunch like you normally do

- he often said that you didn’t need to but he always looks forward to lunch time when he gets to see what you made him

- so today when you made him lunch, he was not suspicious at all

- when he took a bite, he was like why? is? it? so? spicy?

- but he remained calm and just kept eating

- and by the time he was half way through his lunch is was sweating buckets

- his face was red, he was aggressively blowing his nose, sweat was dripping down his face and he was chugging bottles of water like it was nothing

- he didn’t even suspect that it was a prank, just that you have weirdly high spice tolerance

- his teammates were getting a little bit worried, seeing him stick out his tongue like a dog and fanning his face like his life depended on it

- yeah, you guys were gonna have a long conversation at home

- he had just finished his 4th water bottle when he received a text from you

lol text convo - sunas pov

m’lady: how’s the food baby? :)

me: why’s it so spicy

me: it tastes good but i think i’m dying

me: laugh out loud

m’lady: dang i didn’t think it would be THAT spicy

me: huh?

m’lady: happy april fools??

me: fuck you

m’lady: is that a promise?? 🥺🥺

me: shut up i’m crying rn

m’lady: then come home you dramatic bitch

me: i’ll remember this day you damn brat

- in conclusion pranking him sucks and he always gets you back for it

- except his pranks are 100% worse and probably emotionally traumatising

↳ OIKAWA TOORU

- this man istg he is so annoying

- this man is so needy and dramatic

- but that’s probably why you decided to do this

- he just has the best reactions for pranks

- yeah nah i have no idea what you were thinking when you decided to do this

- ditching a date with your boyfriend to hang out with your friends??

- um big mistake

“my love, are you ready for our dinner date yet?”

- yeah you weren’t, babes we going clubbing, but he didn’t know that

- and plus your outfit didn’t really speak ‘fancy dinner’

“oh tooru!! great, i need your opinions! what do you think of my outfit”

“darling, you look absolutely stunning, but a bit much for a dinner date don’t you think?”

“baby what? i’m going out with friends tonight, to the club, but don’t worry, i’ll be home early”

“my love?? we had a date tonight. did you forget? we’ve been planning this for awhile”

“tooru, what’re you talking about? i told you i was gonna go out ages ago”

“oh but-“

“oh shit tooru, i’m late, i gotta go, i’ll see you later okay? see you later my love”

- and you left, leaving your boyfriend heartbroken

- he literally dropped onto the floor clutching his chest hoping you would come home and see him, then cuddle him until the morning

- and there he laid for another 10 minutes in disgust

- how dare you leave your precious boyfriend for your friends

- you decided you were done pranking him so you enter your apartment to your boyfriend cracking open a new vodka bottle

“tooru!”

“oh... it’s you”

“um yeah”

“i thought you were going out with your friends. what? did you finally remember about the date with your handsome boyfriend?”

“tooru”

“no go away, i’m mad”

“april fools tooru”

- when i tell you this man gave you the biggest side eye

“hmph i knew that, i just wanted to see how far you would take the prank”

“okay baby, sure you did”

“pfft darling, don’t underestimate your lovely boyfriend, so come on let’s go”

“go where”

“cuddle, obviously, i still haven’t forgiven you”

- 4/10 dont prank him, he’s annoying

↳ IWAIZUMI HAJIME

- sick of your bullshit 2.0

- he swears you’re gonna give him grey hairs during his 20’s and let’s be honest you probably are

- he just worries about you too much

- he hates seeing you hurt, sick, stressed or just uncomfortable in general

- so you were hella cruel for doing this to him

*massive thud noise lol idk*

“OW, haji, HAJI it hurts please hurry it hurts so bad”

- all of a sudden your boyfriend becomes an olympic sprinter

“doll? what’s wrong baby? did you fall? is your ankle okay? do you want me to get ice? call an ambulance?”

“haji, please i don’t know, it just hurts so bad. please make it stop”

“doll it’s okay, just breathe, can you do that for me pretty girl?”

“mhm”

“good girl, it looks like you sprained your ankle, i’ll go get some ice, okay doll?”

“please hurry haji, it hurts a lot”

“it’s okay, i’m sorry, i’ll be back super quick”

- you were gonna cry, your boyfriend was being so cute and considerate

- yeah well wait until he finds out this was a prank

- in less than 2 minutes, he came running back with an ice pack

“here doll, does this feel better?”

“mhm, thank you haji, i love you”

“i love you more, c’mon i’ll carry you to the couch”

- ugh what a man

“hey haji?”

“yeah doll? what’s up?”

“happy april fools”

“huh?”

“i’m not actually injured, it was a prank”

iwaizumi: 😐😑😐

“i should have known, you fucking brat”

“hehe sorry, can i have a hug”

“no, hug yourself”

- 202/10 bc he’s husband material and has nice arms

↳ BOKUTO KOUTARO

- babie 🥺🥺

- you always loved leaving him small motivational notes for him and he loves it so much

- he always has the biggest smile whenever he sees a note that you wrote in his lunch or his duffle bag

- but today you put like 391 notes in his bag without him noticing

- so when he arrived at practice, he was hoping to get changed into his gear but was instead greeted with a pile of notes

- he picked one up at looked at it

“you look like the scum between my toes”

- okay that was mean

- so he picked up another

“your armpits smell like blue cheese”

- he could have started crying right then and there

- so he texted you

bo’s pov

me: baby :((

my pretty baby: what’s wrong my love? did something happen at practice?

me: did you put these notes in my bag? :((

my pretty baby: i did!! happy april fools baby!!

my pretty baby: did you not like it?

me: it was mean, should i read all of it?

my pretty baby: i spent all night writing it so yes

my pretty baby: but you don’t have to if you don’t wanna, some of them are really weird and mean

me: no i wanna, you worked hard on them!!

my pretty baby: are you sure? they might hurt your feelings

me: im sure!! im stronger than you think!! :))

- the rest of msby saw some of the notes and laughed

- atsumu texted you about how funny they were

- but sakusa told you to never do it again because he doesn’t wanna deal with bokuto crying ever 

- what a babe

- 827282/10 because he’s such a sweetheart

[cuubism]

Could I request a mission gone wrong or Alec feeling guilty about his job but Magnus coming in to talk him down and hold him until Alec feels better? thank you so much, you’re a gift to this fandom <3

hello anon from november 2020. idk if you're still here, but here's the prompt 😂😂

---

Magnus still doesn’t know how to deal with this. Alec drinking. It’s been happening more and more lately, Alec coming home late, passing out on the couch. Magnus isn’t… worried, per se. Well, he’s not really worried about the drinking aspect of it. Alec has never been much one for alcohol, so drinking for him usually means one of Magnus’s stronger cocktails. Magnus isn’t too worried about it. If anything, he slightly prefers the drinking to other coping mechanisms Alec’s used in the past. Well. Slightly.

But he is worried about the causes behind it.

Magnus sits down across from his husband on the cold floor of his office. He gingerly pries the bottle of scotch—gifted to Alec from Luke in celebration of his appointment to Consul—out of his hands. It’s barely touched, thankfully, more a physical crutch and option than something to actually be consumed.

“Hey now. Drowning sorrows in alcohol is my schtick,” he teases, quiet as the dust settling in the corners of the room. Alec’s office in the Gard is… not like his one in the Institute. It’s cold, walls of ancient stone and adamas, bay windows looking out on Idris’s distant snowcapped mountains. No wood paneling, no warming fireplace. Magnus has brainstormed décor ideas, has put warming charm after warming charm in the desk, chairs, floor… but he can’t quite manage to banish the chill. Perhaps the place is simply resistant to his magic after so long harboring minds so hostile to warlocks entirely.

“I know,” Alec mumbles, ignoring the teasing of his tone. His eyes are downcast, fixated on his empty hands. “’m sorry.”

Magnus sets the bottle aside and takes his hands, pushing a warm burst of magic into them. “No, darling. I’m only worried about you. I know what my mind gets like when I’m driven to drink; I don’t want to think about you suffering in that way.”

“Don’t think about it, then,” Alec says flatly, and Lilith, this is going to take even more delicacy than Magnus thought.

“I always think about it,” he says, and Alec looks up at him, guilt flashing in his eyes.

“Don’t,” Magnus says, before he can speak, cradling his face in a hand. “Don’t.”

“I don’t like being here,” Alec admits. His face is set in a deep, furrowed frown. “I just don’t know what to do. I know you don’t like it when I work out too much.”

“I don’t like it when you hurt yourself at all.”

“What else am I supposed to do?” Alec insists, and Magnus sees, again, the invisible walls he’d seen around him when they first met. The years of living with no options that had convinced him options didn’t exist at all.

“For now?” Magnus lets out a long breath. He still hasn’t figured out a long-term plan to help, especially as so much of the source of the issue falls on the shoulders of others—the Clave, mainly. But immediate triage. That he can do. “Come take a walk with me. This stone floor is turning my ass into an ice sculpture.”

Alec finally laughs, though there’s a crack through it. “It’s your fault for wearing fishnet tights in winter.”

“The weather should bow to my fashion sense,” Magnus declares, and Alec laughs again, and Magnus’s heart warms to hear it.

He takes Alec’s hands and pulls him to his feet. “Come along. Grab your coat.”

“You should grab some pants,” Alec grumbles, but he does get his coat. It’s such a nice coat, too, if Magnus does say so. A navy wool peacoat, much more expensive than Alec would ever have chosen for himself. Magnus is quite proud of that gift, especially because Alec has a tendency to tuck it over his shoulders whenever he sees Magnus wearing a weather-inappropriate outfit.

“What, you don’t want to see my sexy legs?” Magnus asks, feigning affront.

Alec scowls, but it’s his oh my god Magnus you are being ridiculous scowl, not a real one. “I don’t want to see your sexy legs turning blue.”

Magnus ignores this. High fashion is far more important than a little discomfort. He takes Alec’s arm and leads him from his office. “Would you like to hear what escapades Chairman got up to today?” Magnus still wants to know what had Alec so upset, but he thinks it’s better to give him some breathing room first. A distraction.

“Yeah. Though I’m not sure he can top the time he turned himself into an aardvark.”

“That was awful,” Magnus moans. “I had no idea an aardvark could cause such destruction.”

“Why did you even have a potion that could turn something into an aardvark in the first place?”

“Well, that wasn’t its intended purpose, Alexander!” Magnus yells, just as they’re heading through the entry hall, causing several guards to turn to them with raised eyebrows. Alec leans against his side, giggling. “Anyway, what he got up to today was worse. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get pink fabric dye out of cat fur?”

Alec chokes on a laugh. “I mean, I’d have thought you’d think it was couture.”

“His feet were hot pink!” Magnus pushes open the door, letting in a gust of frigid air. “He looked like an eighties home workout trainer wearing leg warmers!”

Alec tugs him close in the cold night. His breath fogs as he says, “I don’t know what that means. Is he still pink?”

Magnus sighs, tucking his hands into the pockets of his admittedly subpar jacket. “Regrettably, yes.”

They walk through the Alicante streets in silence for a while after that. The city is nearly empty this late at night, at the height of the freezing Idris winter. It’s just them, the stray cats, and the few flurries of snow that are falling. They catch in Alec’s hair as he stops on the street corner, shrugging out of his coat and laying it over Magnus’s shoulders, predictably. Magnus summons him a scarf for his trouble, but not another coat because he feels it might ruin the deliberateness of Alec’s care.

He wraps the scarf around Alec’s neck and ears, draping the ends over his shoulders. Alec rests his hands on Magnus’s hips under the coat, and Magnus flattens his hands on Alec’s shoulders, and finally asks, “Do you want to talk about it?”

The gentle smile Alec had previously been wearing for him fades. “Not… really,” he says, “to be honest. You can probably infer anyway.”

And the thing is, Magnus can, because it’s usually the same issues recurring over and over, mostly out of Alec’s control. Which is what makes it so hard for Magnus to help. “I suppose I can,” he says, “but I’m always willing to hear about it anyway.”

The snow is falling faster now, creating a hush in the world around them. Alec’s lips twist. “Maybe later,” he finally says. “For now, I just want to spend time with you. Without any strife, or anything.”

“Alright.” Magnus settles in against his side, and Alec wraps an arm around his waist as they begin walking again. “Careful what you say, though. Ask for no strife, and you’ll jinx us with a demon invasion.”

“We get demon invasions either way,” Alec grumbles, sounding put out. “They never give it a rest.”

“You know, I’ve been wondering if instead of killing demons, we could just distract them by putting something more interesting down in hell,” Magnus muses.

“More interesting than killing people? Like what?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Build-A-Bear. Froyo with fifty toppings. Truly demons just haven’t been exposed to all the joys life has to offer—”

Alec laughs, knocking his head against Magnus’s. “Alright, Magnus. Demon enrichment. I’ll bring it before the Council.”

“I’m sure my genius will be recognized,” Magnus says with satisfaction.

Alec keeps his head pressed against his, and Magnus keeps their arms locked, and the snow falls on the dark street. And Magnus knows that, as long as they can keep finding these moments, everything will end up okay.

[mamamittens]

Because I'm still on this, here's more thoughts on the "edge lord on main softie on the inside" dark au.

I don't particularly like totally dark takes. Just being upfront with y'all. So I'm not going for the idea that everyone's an irredeemable bastard except the canon bastards that are now bastions of morality. There's fun to be had with that idea but seeing my sweet cheese favs be total pricks doesn't tickle my fancy if I'm being honest.

So I'd like to approach this more pragmatically. There's a lot of politics in OP already, limiting even the Yonkos from doing whatever the hell they want. So I imagine a dark au pushes this a little more.

The Marines are a lot quicker to act on perceived weakness. So their opponents (pirates, RA, ect) have to lead with a stronger front if they want to limit the amount of conflict they face. Which is really what you want to do IRL since any fight is a gamble.

So this means that to outside eyes they can't leave cracks. They're more tightly bound to their respective crews. More merciless when provoked. Used to eyeing everyone but each other with suspicion.

I imagine for already tough crews this leads to more cohesive sadism. Big Mom Pirates also heavily imply they take after their mother's 'appetite' for example. They show unapologetic greed so that any strike against outside forces is less obvious among their eccentric demands. Harder to see how close the enemy has struck home if everything is a trigger if it's in their way.

Kaido sticks to his own place and idk much about his crew but there's probably a more aggressive line around Wano and the border islands frequently get raided for good measure.

Shank's crew... That's tricky. He's pretty relaxed in canon. But a darker take would probably lead to him lashing out at aggression in his vicinity. As long as you keep the party vibe, he's happy. But anxiety is zeroed in on, probably either until they relax or he gets bored. If he likes them, he teases until they stop being afraid, but if he's annoyed he prodes until they lash out and he has an excuse to do the same. A lot more like a pacing predator looking for an excuse to use his claws.

This would likely lead to Luffy being more relentless and brutal. He wants to have fun, not this arguing shit. A fights nice and all, but unless you're entertaining about it, you're wasting his time. Probably quicker to actually kill rather than grinding their face into their own inadequacies. Not a problem anymore, are they?

Buggy's crew is surprisingly brutal when we first see them, teetering between entertainment and sadism. But I imagine they use more 'volunteers' for fatal attractions more often. Dissenters and the like. Like a circus of horrors? And in smaller, more loved audiences, it's genuinely fun without horrifying acts of brutality. But the wider public sort of expects some folks to die.

As for Whitebeard's crew, I imagine they lean heavily on that "father/child" dynamic like Big Mom. Comes across very mafia and disingenuous but it's an act. They really do mean it, but emphasizing it means outsiders know how serious their loyalty is and how dangerous "just one WBP" is because there's no such thing as "just one". It's always a family outing, you just haven't seen the others yet. They also build up a large network of favors from their "kind acts" (that are meant genuinely but it's a hard world out there and you never know when you need to call in a favor or three). So to the un-initiated they're this horrifyingly far-reaching crew constantly on the lookout to have you owe them something. And there's no telling how they'll cash out. Assuming they don't just take you to join their massive family as payment.

So all these people have to present "bastard face first" or risk far more than their street cred. Just one moment of weakness could mean a surprise attack from the Marines or rival crews. Everything down for them is paid in kind and vice versa. There is no "no strings attached" move here. There can't be. Or someone else will smell weakness like blood in the water. And small fry can't afford to bleed just as much as the big fish can't afford to fall.

In a world like this... I imagine the pirate king, the freest of them all, is the only one that could change that. Because it requires burning out the rot and hair triggers that constantly force this world to teeter on the edge of all out war.

But in private they're just as dysfunctional and warm as in canon for brief moments of time. Shanks still teases Luffy about drinking juice. Brulee admires Katakuri. Marco means it when he calls Whitebeard "oyaji". It's just jealously guarded in fear of being blackmail or signs of weakness.

I enjoy the random, naturally spawning "edgy au" that always ends up in fandoms. Particularly how different characters can be while still retaining a distant spark of their OG self.

I'm a filthy fucking heathen so my best examples of this is Hetalia and Undertale and I am so sorry if you're having war flashbacks right now but the aus for these were unreasonably good. Hell, Hetalia's low-key became canon and I'm still not sure how that happened.

But I do kinda wonder what that'd look like for One Piece. It's such a massive world that I genuinely haven't seen a cohesive au version outside of swapping roles or like, color variants for a few very specific characters.

Is dark au Marco just goth and low-key pretentious about being a Phoenix? Is dark au Luffy way more interested in killing his enemies (mayhaps some cannibalism if we're going particularly dark)? What the hell does dark au Thatch look like? The dark dark fruit and weirdly menacing "let's be friends" with mob boss vibes???

Is Whitebeard... What does Whitebeard look like??? Is he just straight up yandere or does he front really hard like he's "pretending" to do the family thing while being much more genuine in private. Just really fucking vicious about his recruitment to maintain an image that keeps outsiders away and on edge.

I feel kinda bad at this cause all my ideas just feel like mafia vibes, but that might be the point, idk.

I guess I just like the idea of a world so suffocating that everyone's wearing a cruel mask while maintaining small kindness in their private lives. Ready to lean into that dastardly persona but the minute you prove worth keeping there's hard earned warmth and sincerity. Maybe they hate it. Maybe they kind of like it. But the posturing dictates an alarming amount of their lives.

And then I like dumping Genuinely Just A Good Person in and watching the bafflement and horror that this person is just... Doing That. Being nice. Like they can't fathom someone having decency for everyone they meet. And... Maybe if I'm feeling spicy they get Feelings about that.

I'm also a slut for the protective/possessive thing (as though it's a secret at this point) so maybe that's not very surprising to hear.

[soupbabe]

Heard you wanted to be spammed with requests-

So uh- Idk if you do platonic headcanons but- maybe platonic Stardust crusaders with a pillar crusader? Doesn't matter what,,, gender the bby pillar person is,,, just,,, sweet pillar babe who's tall af- and totally acts like a doofus at times---

You dont have to do this tho uvu

Stardust Crusaders + Pillarman! Reader HCs

It says Pillar*man* in title, but reader will be gender neutral, I think that's just the species (?) name! Also I like doing platonic requests so I don't mind doing this at all ! <3

Joseph Joestar

He met you around the time he met Santana

You were stuck in the same Pillar as the youngest pillarman, also playing the role of a guard dog before you were turned into stone

The main difference between you and your (uh forced adopted?) brother is that your face broke out in a huge smile and giggles filled the room when he booped your nose and told you to be happy

You were loyal to Kars, but throughout the time in Battle Tendency that decreased due to the realization that he never cared about you and did abandon you without thought

Joseph was there to comfort you through it and you helped in defeating Kars in return

After BT, you were sent to be studied at the Speedwagon Foundation and years later they were able to replicate the red stone of Aja for you

Ultimate Y/N ! Ultimate Y/N !

Sunburn no more

You became a nature deity, similar to Kars

First thing you did when the study was done was prank Joseph into thinking that the Ultimate Lifeform came back

Although it didn't work all too well, your forced down smile and stifled giggles definitely wasn't a sign of Kars, despite the mighty wings you sprouted

You lived with Suzi Q and Joseph for the majority of your new life and you adored being apart of their lives

Also they did make you babysit Holly numerous times even though you had no idea what a human baby looked like until now

Should've learned their lesson when one time you were caught making a rough sketch of what would have been a traditional pillarman tattoo on a 10 year old Holly, claiming that it's needed for her to grow up big and strong like you

Although you weren't a stand user, you had experience fighting ancient supernatural beings stronger than some stand users and you were a deity among men. Joseph didn't wait to take you with him when he found out that Dio was making a return

When Holly got sick and it was clear the crusaders had to go to Egypt, you didn't hesitate to sign up. It was a rare time that you were serious and your loyalty to your aged best friend shined through. You loved his family and you saw Holly grow up, of course you'd be there for him

Throughout SDC, you mostly just laughed at him (mostly during the fight with Mariah) and cracked jokes with him to ease tense situations

Also that bit at the end of the show where he pretended that Dio possessed his body?? He got that from you and you both laughed while Jotaro gave you both a glare

Iggy

Oh my god you barked back.

Y'all gossip with each other in dog, you're a nature deity, of course you can understand him perfectly

Added bonus of your powers is that he naturally relaxes with you

Sleepy gremlin

Jotaro Kujo

It took him a while to warm up to you

You were raised by Kars and Esidisi, dealing people who come off as cold and have occasional outbursts of anger come natural to you

He first doesn't think of you as anything when he first saw you

It wasn't until you sized him up, easily towering over the 6'5" teen, his eyes widened in astonishment a little

He has no problems with you, you're respectful to his mother and you respect his privacy for the most part

You're real bonding moment was when you made a lame, but fairfly obscure, fish pun when beating up the stand user of Dark Blue Moon

You both talked about marine life, he was genuinely interested in your experiences with ancient marine species and types of life before evolution made them what they were today

Although he doesn't like the happy go lucky types of people (they remind him of his annoying fangirls) you'll be the exception

A moment you both really became friends was in the Steely Dan fight

You shot your hand up in excitement, offering to aid in beating the hell out of the cocky bastard that mistreated Jotaro and Joseph

It was a good moment for you both to have light hearted banter and you ended the fight with a smile and a high five

Although persuading Joot to do the high five went more like: "Jotaro please" "No." "Pleassseeeeeee" "*sigh* Leave me alone after this."

I thank that you can't see stands. I can only imagine the endless lighthearted fights you and Star Platinum would have, you both giving each other proud smiles of how strong your friend has become

Noriaki Kakyoin

You gave a welcoming and cheerful aura when he woke up at the Kujo household

Out of all Crusaders, I do like to think that you would think of Kakyoin as more of a little brother

Probably because you miss Santana a bit tbh, red hair and a more reserved personality?? Easy for that to happen

Although you do make sure to keep that distinction between the two separate beings, gotta be healthy bby

You were one to always encourage him to get more out of his shell and be the friend he deserved

He would encourage you to speak about Pillarman society/culture when you both roomed together

One time you pranked him by giving him a handful cherries and giving him a tiny jumpscare when the cherries actually did turn back into your hand

Sometimes you both make fun of Polnareff together </3

Jean-Pierre Polnareff

,,,,big tall gentle giant? Oh my god he would've melted for you at first

He flirted with you first thing after the fight with Avdol, only to be immediately shut down with your laughter

It's not the first time someone hit on you, but his attempt was so cheesy and bad that it was funny

Don't worry he didn't keep on flirting with you though, it was clear that you weren't interested

That and you told him that you were over 1000 years old

You both were outgoing so it wasn't a big surprise that you two got along so well

He actually enjoys your tales of past fights and how it was like not being able to be in the sun for the longest time

That and he asked for hair care tips, your hair is very beautiful to him and to keep it as such even when you were turned to stone? Impressive

You both are dumbasses together, but you're the one to save his ass all the time

Especially during the first fight with Hol Horse, guns can't kill you and even then your skin can create a harsh shell to soften the blow

You just laughed it off, said that it tickled, and encouraged Polnareff to chase after the (now) frightened cowboy

You and Polnareff also have a lot in common too and you both are able to be for each other when it comes to Polnareff's grief over his sister and you technically being the only pillarman alive

Omg Y/N I can't believe you have yourself an emotional support himbo I'm jealous

You're also a wingman/wingwoman for him, years and years of experience (and using Joseph in his younger years as a "what not to do" reference) led you to being the perfect helper in getting whoever Polnareff wants

Muhammad Avdol

He's read about the Pillarmen, but he never thought that they were actually real

So when he met you he was flabbergasted

You and Avdol's friendship is like him unintentionally parenting a 7 foot 5 year old on one of those kid leashes

He knows that almost nothing can cause you great harm, but he still worries

Because of that his favorite form of hanging out with you involves chatting over tea or showing you foods you might not be aware of

In all honesty, it's greatly appreciated since your diet switched from vampires and humans to absorbing like 2-3 raw cows every other week. Your "palate" is not as expansive as you may think

While in India, you were able to buy some Henna and Avdol was very open to you giving him a mock Pillar tattoo

He wore it with pride and was very greatful

Sometimes when he gets homesick you make your arm into a chicken, and although it isn't the real thing, he appreciates it

You also show him ancient Pillar rituals too and it's his favorite thing to listen to

In return, you bother him to show you how to read tarot and tell him about (in your words) "occult business~"

You balance each other out and Avdol cherishes you greatly

When the mission to Egypt was over, he did name a chicken after you btw

[bonkie-barnes]

Apartment 3C

natasha romanoff x gn!reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: brief mentions of injuries 

A/N: does the dog die.com.....yes, i am sorry. enemies to lovers kinda?? idk she’s mean to you until she’s not. i try to keep it gender neutral, but if you see something that isn’t please let me know! i hope you enjoy!

- - -

The first time you ever saw her enter apartment 3C was when she was moving boxes from the hall into the room. She had the most beautiful red hair and green eyes that made you lose your breath the instant she made eye contact with you.

The woman looks down at your hand then back up at your face, confused and suspicious. She simply nods before picking up one last box and entering her apartment. You stand there in the hallway for another minute before shaking yourself off and going back to your own home, your thoughts on the green eyes of the woman whose name you don’t know for the rest of the night.

You walk over to introduce yourself to her, sticking your hand out for her to shake.

“Hi! I’m Y/N, your neighbor in 3D,” you say, gesturing to the apartment across the hall with a shake of your head.

- - -

The next time you saw the mysterious woman of apartment 3C was on your way to the laundry room in the basement of the building. She was just locking her own door when she looked up and made eye contact with you. You gave her a small smile and she simply rolled her eyes at you.

As you both climb down the stairs, the woman trying hard to ignore your presence, you try to come up with a topic of conversation.

“So, nice day we’re having. Good weather,” is what you finally come up with. You mentally smack yourself for being so dull.

She looks at you with an annoyed look in her eyes and a smirk on her face.

“Really? You’re resorting to weather talk?”

“Well, you’re not that easy to approach. I’m not sure what to talk to you about,” you finally manage to get out after a minute.

“You ever think maybe I don’t want to talk to you?” she asks.

“Oh.”

She leaves you standing alone in the stairwell, wondering what you did to offend her so badly.

- - -

It’s about eight at night when your dog starts barking from the living room. You look up from your book to the smell of smoke. The lasagna you were making was currently in the oven, but you were sure you set the timer.

As you walk out of your room, the smell of smoke only gets stronger. It takes you checking your oven and the sight of your dog barking at the door to realize the smell is coming from outside your apartment.

You open the door and struggle to keep Smokey, your dog, in the room as you peek your head into the hallway. The smoke is coming from 3C. You’ve managed to avoid the woman inside since the stairway fiasco a week ago. As embarrassed as you are, you figure you should probably go check on her.

She opens the door a minute after your knocks sound, looking out of her element. Instantly you notice the smoke coming out of her own oven. She is definitely not a chef by any means, you realize with a smirk.

“Are you okay in here?” you ask her softly.

“Does it look like it?” she responds with an edge to her voice.

“Do you need some help?”

She simply rolls her eyes and shakes her head. You’re about to respond when her phone rings. She picks it up with a firm “Natasha” before closing her door on you. At least now you know her name.

When you get back into your own home, you come up with an idea. You take half of your now-cooked lasagna and put it in a tupperware container. You attach a little note before running it over to Natasha’s doorstep. You knock and try to hurry back to your apartment before being detected.

Smokey, however, has other plans for you. He manages to sneak out into the hallway and over to the container of food.

"Smokey, no!" you exclaim as Natasha opens her door, no longer on the phone.

You quickly run over to grab his collar and usher him back to your home, muttering apologies the whole way. You quickly sneak inside your apartment before Natasha can say something about the food.

What you don’t see is the small smile Natasha gives as she reads the note.

- - -

The next time you see Natasha leave apartment 3C is drastically different. The rainy weather is reflective of your current mood. You're on your way up the stairs having just come back from the veterinarian, empty collar in your hand.

Natasha notices you from her doorway and lets a small smile go before it drops into a frown. There's a somber air about you and she'd be lying to herself if she said she weren't concerned. She has to keep up her mean girl act, though, because she doesn't want you to know you're growing on her.

"Well don't you look like shit. Who peed in your cheerios this morning?" she asks you snidely.

You stumble a bit, not expecting Natasha to even speak to you. You don't even look up at her before mumbling a quiet "Not today, Natasha".

Her heart breaks at the sadness in your expression and it breaks even more at the sight of the collar in your grasp. She's seen you walking around the city with Smokey a few times and knows how much you love him.

"Wait, hey, are you alright?"

You look up, surprised at the fact that Natasha is speaking to you in a kind manner. You don't fail to notice the concerned look in her eyes. Still, you're convinced she doesn't like you.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," you sigh, not wanting to get into it with her.

"Where's Smokey?" she asks softly.

You break out into sobs. Natasha reaches a hand out to you, but you're across the hall and into your apartment before she can come up with something to say.

This time it's you who is receiving a knock on the door with no one around to claim it. There's a mug of steaming tea and a note at your feet.

In neat, loopy writing you see:

I'm really sorry about Smokey. This will help with your throat <3

You crack a slight smile for the first time that day.

- - -

It's dark when you're startled out of your sleep. You could have sworn you heard something, but there is nothing but silence now. The clock jarringly flashes 3:35 at you.

Then you hear it again. There's someone knocking at your door, you realize.

Rushing out of bed, you trip on the sheets before regaining your footing. You enter the living room and turn on the lamp in the corner, covering the room in a soft glow. You inch the door open slowly, before throwing it open the rest of the way upon realizing the late night visitor is Natasha.

She's covered in cuts and bruises, and she's nursing her right wrist. Your eyes widen at the stain of blood on her shirt.

"Natasha, oh my god," you gasp, as you usher her into your apartment. You guide her to the couch and she groans as she plops down.

You rush to the bathroom to get some medical supplies and hurry back to her. She has her eyes closed, and if the blood and dirt weren't there, you'd think she looked almost at peace.

"What happened to you?" you ask softly, as you start wetting a washcloth with rubbing alcohol.

"Ah, this is nothing. You should see the other guy," Natasha says with a smirk. You can see just how tired she is, though. "I'd do it myself, but I think I’ve sprained my wrist.

You simply nod and get to work cleaning up her cuts. Both of you are silent, minus her small hisses of pain, until you finished taping up the last bandage.

"So, are you going to tell me why you came over at three A.M. looking like you just got mugged?"

Natasha sighs and plays with her hands. "I couldn't patch it up myself, as I already mentioned, and I trust you," she utters softly.

"I thought you hated me," you blurt out.

"What? No!" she exclaims, her eyes widening. "Okay, I can see why you'd think that."

"Why are you so mean to me, then?" you ask quietly, without looking in her direction.

"I’m scared," she says bluntly.

You look at her in complete confusion.

"You're so sweet all the time, and I was scared to talk to you in fear of you seeing just how opposite I am," she finally mutters.

You look at her softly. "Nat, you're not as bad as you think you are."

She scoffs. "I treated you like shit when all you've ever been is nice. I'm not just bad, I'm cruel."

"As you said, you were scared. You just need to stop being so hard on yourself all the time," you say, grabbing her hands in yours.

"Can you ever forgive me?" she asks hopefully.

"Take me out to get coffee and we can start over," you say.

She smiles and says, "Deal."

- - -

You knock on the door, just under the rusted 3C. You subconsciously smooth down your shirt, hoping to get rid of the nonexistent wrinkles.

You've been dating Natasha for four months now, but she still makes you just as nervous.

You're taken out of your thoughts by the sound of her door opening. Standing in front of you is the most stunning woman you've ever seen. She's in simple jeans and a shirt, but she still takes your breath away.

"Hi, love," she chuckles, as you struggle to find words.

"Hi, you're absolutely gorgeous," you finally stutter out.

"Shut up," she says through a smile, a light blush coating her cheeks.

"You ready for our date?"

"Absolutely." She turns around to lock her door.

You take her hand and interlock your fingers as you both start down the stairs. You've never been happier, you think.

- - -

The last time you see Natasha exit apartment 3C is a hot day in July.

The apartment has been cleared out, nothing but a box at the doorway left.

"It's sort of bittersweet, isn't it?" you ask, wiping the sweat from your brow.

"Sort of. I have better memories in your apartment, though," Natasha says.

"Our apartment," you correct her with a gleaming smile on your face.

"You just had to ask me in the middle of July, didn't you?" she teases. "I'm sweating bullets over here."

"I just couldn't wait any longer, sorry babe," you respond, leaning your head on her shoulder.

"C'mon, one more box then we officially live together."

Natasha bends down to pick up the box.

"Last one there's a rotten egg," you yell as you sprint across the hall.

"It's funny you think you can outrun me, baby," Natasha yells, hot on your heels.

[donotpercieveme123]

If nobody asked for him yet, Izuna for the ask prompt because I can’t get enough of him. And I’m going to throw a new one at you (only if you want to!) : Naori

Thx for the ask <3 and sorry for taking so long to answer😅 life kept happening or I kept forgetting.

I'll answer both. It's gonna be long so I'll put it under a cut and apologies in advance lol

Izuna

First impression

Didn't really have much of an impression of him watching the series I won't lie. I guess I thought he looked like Sasuke but NO WHY ARE YOU STANDING IN THE WAY OF PEACE?! Did think he would have had a lot of potential if they actually bothered to give him a shred of personality tho. And aside from wanting so so so much more about him and Madara, I also low key really wanted to see more of him and Tobirama because come on! The chemistry was there and they were obviously presented as parallels and foils of each other. I wanted more violence and I wanted it to be personal. Also them interacting as kids was kind of really cute (the way they knew each other's name) but also really heartbreaking seeing how fckn big those swords looked

Impression now

He was right about everything. But if ppl think Tobirama was bad Izuna would have been worse. On purpose.

He is just SKSJJSJSZB!! Best, most interesting, fun and heartbreaking and compelling and perfect character!! The layers, the grief, his importance!!

I won't lie his character is almost entirely made by the fandom and I don't even agree with or like the vast majority of the interpretations, but God I would kill everyone in this room then myself if I don't see him happy or in pain or perfectly collected and impartial but murderous and covered in blood and so fucked up beyond belief but still holding everything and everyone together despite the way every loss and failure kills him over and over again until he's lost all sense of himself outside of his duty and the people he failed. JDJDHXHXXXHXH HIMMMM!! Just imagine the moment any shred of child like hope he used to have was completely shattered and he became entirely nihilistic, angry and bitter, but also leaving him craving the peace he knows is impossible.

Also he so has eldest daughter, middle child energy

Favourite moment

It was pretty funny when he punched Tobirama in the face ngl

Also the way he reacted to another kid possibly being stronger than his big brother!😱 Djjdhd I can't breathe!! His little face!! He deserves everything good in the world

Idea for a story

Oh boi oh boi do you just want a never ending list of all my wips?

Literally endless endless possibilities so idk which to pick, where to start or how I'd ever stop talking lol

Literally anything and everything from back story and character analysis fics, to crack, to dark smut and graphic violence, to wholesome bittersweet found family. And that's not even touching the endless possibilities AUs would open up!!!

Unpopular opinion

As needed and honestly refreshing as the 'canon accurate' take on his personality is, I don't really think I like it all that better. It's honestly kind of boring and it reduces him to a narrative plot or some vague object in someone else's story that can be placed to the side and completely forgotten about or ignored. I find it takes everything that's significant and interesting about him then sucks everything else that would give him a fully fledged and compelling personality right out of it. I'm as tired as the next person by a lot of fandom interpretations but he doesn't need to be reduced to the human equivalent of a perfectly square, perfectly blank piece of paper. His role, importance, actions and convictions within the narrative aren't remotely changed if he's allowed to have layers of messy, gritty complexity. They'd become more fleshed out if anything. Let my man have a messy personality, please! I need something to sink my teeth into and tear apart like a chew toy!

Favourite relationship

It's literally impossible to pick just one so here are the ones I cycle through as the mood takes me.

MADARAAAA, I would actually kill for more gen uchiha siblings content! They're just- yh I don't even need to explain!

But also in that same vein HIKAKU!!!! Only child Hikaku adopting Izuna as his little brother after all his cousins are killed. Them working better together and having more in common with each other than with Madara a lot of the time (despite Madara initially being the glue that brought them together). Then the grief and blame after Izuna dies and jdndndndb!!!!

Similarly but on a different note NAORI!!!!!!! Platonic soulmates all the fckn way! Just them being best friends since childhood (probably the only stable and healthy relationship, that is only a touch codependent, that Izuna has ever had). Also I love the idea of the wlw mlm solidarity of having kids together because madara refused to procreate. And don't let me get into how Izuna's death affects her!

But also TOBIRAMA ALL DAY EVERY FCKN DAY!! They’re so perfect, the way they respect and hate one another for everything they represent and how much of themselves they see in the other, and the violent possessiveness born of it. But also the way they would fit and work together so well, how they see the possible friendship in the other and it only makes them more adamant about wanting the other dead. But also soft healthy friendship that's fun and bittersweet, especially as kids, and hdhdbxbx- No more needs to be said really

Favourite headcanon

God there r so many! But I love the thought of him having a younger sister who's somewhere between tobirama, itama and izuna in personality. And he got his sharingan after seeing her die at the hands of bloodline thieves, which he never stops blaming himself for. It massively shapes his unhealthy and somewhat obsessive need to keep everyone and everything together and safe. Not to mention the way he takes failure so personally.

(Thank you sm for asking for her btw!)

Naori

First impression

Her plotline was weird as hell tho, and it would have been cooler if she was around during the founders era

Really liked her right off the bat! Thought she had a cool design, amd loved her personality and the mediator role she played. Also loved the way she seems genuinely powerful and well respected, and how put together and kind but stern she was. True infj lol

Impression now

Same impression really, + my own ideas and backstory sprinkled in. For example, she's a lot more cynical than she present herself. I love the idea of her growing bitter after Izuna's death but coming out the other side better than say Hikaku because she still had people she needed to remain tender for.

Favourite moment

Idk the way she was introduced was pretty cool. Girl boss play ur mind games!

Idea for a story

I'd love to write anything after Izuna's death and the founding of Konoha.

Also I have zero fckn clue what her backstory was even about so I wanna rework that. I'm thinking a small group of Uchiha growing paranoid as Madara did and trying to assasinate Tobirama. Having accepted the reality they were now stuck in she makes it her mission to keep everything running smoothly and do damage control where necessary. (All for the benefit of the clan tho. She never actually accepts the will of fire and she would be the first to be able to say 'I told you so' when war breaks out again). So anyway, Tobirama agrees to let her peacefully deal with them as a 'show of trust' to any other Uchiha who might follow, but it still makes him weary of them as a whole regardless.

Unpopular opinion

Not a fan of her being written in to be shipped with whatever male character just so they can have a straight love interest. I want her to have motivations, a story, and complex thoughts and feelings outside that. That's how she was introduced in the first place! But idk if that's actually unpopular lol

Favourite relationship

Of course Izuna! Aside from what I mentioned in his bit I also like to think that they shared the same views about how the clan should be run, and especially about peace (as a whole vs peace with the Senju). And alongside being a genjutsu master and being well respected on the battlefield, I like to think that she had an affinity for healing, and she woke her Mangekyou after Izuna died because she felt responsible for not being able to save him.

But also Hikaku!!! After Madara leaves she's the only person Hikaku still has around, and despite both being two of Izuna's closest people, they only really get close after that. After he officially takes over as clan head she essentially also steps into the role Izuna had as Madara's 'right hand'. Which basically means that for all intents and purposes they lead the clan together.

Favourite headcanon

Tobirama came to her about the police force and despite hating his guts for killing Izuna they worked together. She founded the police force with her wife and had a hand in the way the anbu was initially structured. Tobirama first went to her out of guilt (and because Hikaku was more outwardly hostile lol), but over the years she became someone he deeply respected and who's advice he sought out. And despite never fully forgiving him the respect was mutual.