#thank you so so SOOOO much for all this! it made me so unbelievably happy to read

[spencerreiddddd]

Hyper fixation

Soooo this is the first request I do and hopefully it lives up to your expectations!

Hope you like it @ilovethepipecleaner

You walked into the BAU with your tote bag hanging on your shoulder adorned with multiple little bear key chains.

“Pretty girl you made it early today.” Morgan called out to you from the small kitchen as you made your way to your desk.

You turned to look at him a smile spreading on your face. “Well my coffee shop was closed so I guess it’s BAU coffee today.” You say making a disgusted face causing Morgan to laugh.

Turning around to look at your desk a small bear key chain catches your attention, it had a sticky note placed next to it.

“Congrats on passing your gun exam.

-Yours Spencer.”

A smile spread across your lips as you picked up the small bear and examined it.

The bear was pink your favorite color, it had a FBI vest on and a gun holstered to its side. With your initials in graved on the bottom of the bears right foot.

A small shocked chuckle escaped your lips as you looked at the adorable bear in your hands.

“Do you like it?” A voice came from behind you in a timid manner turning around to see Spencer your smiled grew impossibly larger.

“Like it? I love it Spence!” You said practically jumping into his arms as you wrapped your arms around his neck. His hands immediately finding your waist.

“I love it, thank you Spence. I love you so much!” You say in his ear as you back away from his and turn your attention back to the small bear in your hands, missing the way Spencer’s face turned unbelievably red at your words… more specifically the last five words.

“This is going to my collection.” You say clipping the small bear to your tote bag to join all the other little bears dangling on there.

“How did you even find one like this?” You ask turning your attention back to Spencer, he smiled shyly. “I had it custom made.” He said looking into your eyes for a reaction.

“No way, you had it custom made just because I passed my gun exam?” You say astonished.

“Truthfully, I had it made before I knew you had passed it.” He said scratching his head, you looked at him with disbelief.

“Spence what if I hadn’t passed my test?” You say curiously.

He shook his head. “Not possible, your better with that gun out of all of us.” He said teasing.

You laugh and smile giddily. “Nice to know you have one hundred percent faith in me.”

“Oh yeah one hundred percent always.” He says looking at you with big puppy eyes you feel like you can drown in.

You stand there smiling at each other, for what didn’t feel long until a voice startled Spencer and you out of the trance with each other.

“Hey get a room, im just trying to drink my coffee in peace.” Morgan says leaning back on the counter coffee in one hand and the other crossed over his chest.

Spencer chuckled retreating back to his desk as he looked back at you a flashed you a toothy grin.

You smiled brightly at him as a feeling pooled in your stomach, it was warm and it made you feel happy. Something changed right there and then on how you viewed Spencer.

Thank you for reading! This was so much fun to write, I will be taking more requests if anyone wants to message me!

[actuallysaiyan]

for the love of god can the people please get a cockwarming small might req, possibly where it started as just a way to recover if his injury flared during ur usual sex but now hes just into it on its own? i will bow and scrape until my goddam back breaks🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏 just started an unbelievably boring job and thinking abt your all might posts are giving me life thru these 8 hour shifts like truly thank you from the shareholders at yagi thirst incorporated

warnings: smut, suggestive themes, unprotected sex, mentions of blood, Small Might form, slight nipple play word count: 0.7k pairings: Toshinori Yagi/Small Might x Fem!Reader summary: Toshinori takes a long time to be comfortable to make love to you, and yet you drive him crazy. one night he gets a cramp and he can't quite perform, but he finds himself so excited and happy to be so close to you. a/n: Thank you soooo much for this one! I really hope you enjoy and thank you for enjoying my thirst for All Might!

He knew he’d never be the same man as before, but you were falling in love with him despite his differences. Even if he was thinking that he wasn’t worthy of love, you were right there to show him that he was wrong. Slowly, you began to make him feel alive again. Toshinori Yagi could proudly say that he wanted to live.

Sex was a whole other thing. It was slow. He would always pull away whenever your make out sessions got a little too heavy. He was always willing to bring you pleasure, but never would he allow you to do it to him. Not only did the thought of you seeing his scar terrify him, but also you knowing he didn’t have the same stamina as before just made him feel even more insecure.

It all started one night when he finally decided to make love to you. He spends a long time focused on you and your pleasure, but he makes it known that he’s going to make love to you. And the first time you make love, it’s romantic and loving and it hits all the right spots. You find yourself dreaming about it for days to come.

Eventually, Toshinori also grows very addicted to the feeling. He loves being able to fuck you in the morning before he has to leave for work. At night whenever he’s feeling very needy and clingy, he fucks you really hard and deep. The man finds himself even more insatiable than he was when he was a young teenager. It’s like something snapped in his brain and you were stirring up his hormones quite a bit.

One night, he has you beneath him, pumping into you deeply. You two share such sweet kisses as he fucks you with precision. All of a sudden, he coughs up blood and he slows himself down. He feels like something is wrong. He looks down at you and you can see the hatred for himself in his eyes. He wants to just disappear and be swallowed up by the ground.

Then you reach up and gently wipe the blood away from his mouth with your fingers. “Toshi, are you okay?”

Just the gentleness of your motions and actions has him shuddering. He’s still inside of you, and still very hard. But his side hurts and the scar is throbbing for the first time in a long time. When you look up at him again, you see the worry on his face.

“Just…I’m sore, honey.”

You pull him in for a very tender kiss, not caring that there’s still blood on his lips. You hold onto him, allowing him to stay so deep inside of you as you rub his back and gently soothe him. Toshinori lays his head on your breasts, sighing happily. Just being connected to you like this makes him feel so safe, so loved and so happy.

The next time that you two make love, he offers to take you in the spooning position. He spreads your thighs, slipping into you from behind. Both of you moan as he bottoms out, and instead of him continuing a pace, he just settles behind you and wraps his arm around you.

“Just let me enjoy the feeling of you, honey.”

Your fingers intertwine as he presses kisses to your neck and your shoulder. Your walls flutter around his girth, causing him to grunt. The feeling of just resting while being deep inside of you makes him feel dizzy. It’s the greatest feeling to just be so connected to you like this. He can easily grab onto your hips and push deeper into you.

Then his hand slowly moves up to your sides, the fingertips are calloused and rough but feel so heavenly on your soft skin. You shudder and look at him over your shoulder. Toshinori has this beautiful look of love on his face as your gaze locks, despite the awkward position to look at him.

“My angel,” he murmurs softly as he leans in to press even more kisses to your neck. “I could never get tired of holding you so close like this.”

His fingers graze over your skin, making the hair on your body stand on end. Then he gently cups your breast, slowly rocking his hips. He tweaks your nipple, making you moan just for him. He can take it so slow for the both of you, and if things get a little too out of hand, he can easily just settle down, stop and stay buried deep inside of you.

You two have all night…and every night to be close to one another.

reblogs and comments always appreciated!

©actuallysaiyan 2024– do not repost on other platforms, copy, translate or edit my works!

dividers: @adornedwithlight

[gretagerwigsmuse]

oh my god thank you!!! i haven’t known how to articulate my thoughts re all your lovely comments, that’s why i haven’t replied yet! this made me so happy and i squealed and kicked my legs reading it 🥰 i will endeavor to answer/reply to all of these below! thank you again!!! and to your final point - i finished writing this in my childhood bedroom on a freezing, windy christmas so we’re basically kin haha

similarly, as an overachiever, there really is nothing better than being told you throw a good party, but it’s so stressful - to say nothing of it your boyfriend is being deployed for 3 months and you want everything to be perfect? i feel like this was a big moment of just showing she’s human and she’s prone to jealousy and a little petty and bitter that he’s leaving? because the reader in fics is always like ‘awww it’s okay baby, i get you have to leave’ and yeah maybe she can be a little bitter about it?

jake absolutely DOES deserve a little shit still in this fic! and yup! smart aleck is definitely the type to ‘maybe forgive, but never forget’ and jake pulls some shit at the gala that only reinforces smart aleck still being wary of him? like they’re cordial with each other, but he’s not being named godfather anytime soon lol.

i totally get what you mean about bradley waiting for others to take the lead and completely agree! i’m glad you think it was in character for him! i try and make him very considerate and kind and to follow her lead with a lot of things in their relationship and that was partly why he was so nervous to ask her to move in with him (if you’ll have me - sir pls 🥹😵‍💫😮‍💨)? that being said, he does know when to push her out of her comfort zone, but to the point where it’s not aggressive or excessive? idk if that made sense?

the concept of being tired is soooo personal to me because there’s so many different types of being tired and i think i wrote that paragraph about five times before i really liked it enough, so thank you for calling it out! and she’s got SUCH a busy mind (and is totally a busybody haha) that i really like doing the whole stream of conscious thing with her inner dialogue sometimes? i don’t do it as much from his pov, but it really lends itself to her because how she perceives herself is def not how she’s perceived by others? someone mentioned she’s a bit of an unreliable narrator and i really liked that concept

the peanuts part was moderately self indulgent and i am in total agreement with you - i would absolutely want him to take me on the piano bench right then and there. i have another fic i’m working on where bradley plays the piano for her and it’s so stinkin cute 🥰 i feel like his twinkling on the keys before playing great balls of fire in the movie is very much overlooked in fic because that man is classically trained tyvm!

mav dad!! papa mav! i wrote like 60% of this and was like shit!! mav isn’t in it! because her and mav have a really close relationship throughout her and bradley’s relationship/story, so i’m glad i was able to give some background here! and like even mav knowing and her knowing that mav knows how much bradley loves her really speaks a lot to how much bradley 1) talks about her in general and 2) talks to mav (the person who knows him for the longest in the world) about her. and all she’s ever known is bradley and mav being close again, so it’s basically like she has his dad’s approval and friendship imo!

i really like sneaking in all the little tidbits about bradley’s life outside of the navy and this fic was really fun since i could introduce different friends of theirs without it seeming super forced? the otis redding thing was kind of random, but i thought still tied in with the movie a bit? i imagine he has a fancy record player on one of those tables from the 60s and it has built in storage for all his records? and yes! tiernan, kylie, and i have talked about bradley surfing quite a bit and just imagining him in that wetsuit practically sends me into cardiac arrest?? like he’s just so pretty??!

sharing furniture and grocery lists and just watching tv together and going to bed in the same place every night, night after night is just…idk it’s home to me? so i wanted to incorporate that for the two of them, especially since they aren’t home a lot? both of them travel quite a bit for work, so they are each other’s home?

yes! caroline is truly a real one! imagine smart aleck like had her underwear on still in the shower and caroline had to awkwardly watch her slather her boobs in soap suds and be like ‘this is what does it for him? this?’ and they have to take like five different pictures with the polaroid and it’s so funny and sweet. but also caroline mentions it to bradley once when she’s drunk of something and he’s so mortified 😂

and okay yes…the ending was a touch abrupt, i fully concede that point! maybe i’ll do something with their emails and her going about her life while he’s gone? especially since they’re gearing up for the big move 🥰 and their one year anniversary! idk i could write so much more for them haha

(christmas) baby please come home

summary: in which lieutenant commander bradshaw and his girlfriend throw a christmas party, complete with a christmas tree, copious amounts of champagne, blended friend groups, and the true meaning of the word home

OR what do you do when your boyfriend gets deployed over christmas and he get you two christmas presents?

pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader 11.8k

warnings: 18+, explicit language, explicit sexual content

part of @notroosterbradshaw ‘s hello december challenge

masterlist and playlist

It was obvious that you knew how to throw a party. 

Furthermore, it was obvious that none of your and Bradley’s friends - baring Max, but only because he had professional help - would ever be able to pull off a party of the same caliber as your Christmas party. 

Subconsciously, you wanted your friends to be jealous of you and impressed with how well you and Bradley had pulled things off. It was, admittedly, such a vain and shallow thought - no, desire to want to be the best at this. At throwing parties.

The Charlie Brown Christmas soundtrack was currently echoing throughout the downstairs on the Sonos, the twinkling jazz giving off a whimsical, yet sophisticated vibe, the Christmas tree looked stunning in the living room where it was covered in nearly three thousand white lights and countless ornaments, and the food that you and Bradley - but mainly Bradley - had spent all morning and last night preparing was laid out on festive serving dishes, complete with seasonally appropriate plates and napkins, perfectly folded in their napkin rings. 

You had scoured San Diego county for the most gorgeous garland possible to serve as the centerpiece on the dining room table, the berries and pine cones in it perfectly matching the plates and napkins and serving dishes. You had vacuumed the hardwood floor twice and washed it once before everyone came over and knew you would do so again once everyone left, if only so you could casually say it’s fine, you can keep your shoes on, we’re washing the floor tomorrow anyway. The candles weren’t overpowering, there was soft lighting all throughout the house, and you’d somehow wrangled a recipe for the cookies Bradley’s mom used to make from Sarah Kazansky and hadn't even burnt them.  

Because you wanted people to talk about it - the party. And to say did you see their bathroom? It was so clean, there weren’t any water spots on the faucet. The beef tenderloin appetizers were delicious, they had to have gotten the meat someplace special? No, definitely not Vons, maybe some local butcher in La Jolla? Aren’t they such a sweet couple? Such a good pair.

Because it had to be perfect. 

All of it.

Because this was Bradley’s Christmas. His only Christmas that year. Nothing could go amiss. And you wanted everyone to be jealous of it, so much so that tonight would be equal to if not better than how they celebrated the actual holiday with their own families - in their own homes - on Christmas Day. 

Because they weren’t going to be spending the holiday on a drafty aircraft carrier in the middle of the Pacific far from home like Bradley was. 

And Bradley deserved the entire world and all the happiness he could possibly have. The way his face had lit up when you’d first suggested the party after he’d gotten his orders at the beginning of November would stick with you for months. You’d told him that everything would be perfect, that you would pack enough Christmas spirit and love and gifts and food into one evening that it would take the sting out of being away from home - being away from you - at Christmas. Even if for just one night.

The guests had all arrived, some promptly and some not-so-promptly, with you and Bradley greeting them all, telling them to help themselves to all the food and drinks they wanted. Apparently, Max had a surprise for later that you prayed was not him putting on a Santa suit. But the conversation and drinks were flowing with ease, despite the blending of your two friend groups for the first time. 

It was a good party. 

Except right now, it was your turn to be the jealous one.

You watched, enviously, as one of your work friends leaned against the kitchen island with a glass of prosecco in her hand, while the other gripped Jake Seresin’s bicep. The jealousy wasn’t because of Jake or any attention he may have been giving her, mind you. 

(Because no, no - while you may no longer have had an intense hatred for Bradley’s nemesis cum friend, you still didn’t actively seek out his presence and you definitely didn’t want his attention - not for anything other than a great party as he left your - no, Bradley’s house later that night.)

No - you were jealous of her dress. Her gorgeous, deep garnet, midi-length, sleeveless dress. That looked absolutely stunning on her, though a touch too fancy for a Christmas party in South Park. She looked gorgeous, beautiful - statuesque. 

You absentmindedly fixed the bow on your wrap dress. Your long sleeved, silk wrap dress - that also did plenty to hide any unwanted lines or bumps around your stomach. And your arms. 

Weeks ago, back when the party was but a pipe dream, you’d been eyeing this absolutely adorable, sleeveless, mini-dress for the event. Like your friend’s dress, it probably erred on the side of slightly too fancy for a house party, but it had been so pretty and so perfect. It had sat in your cart online for at least two weeks - you just wanted to see if it would go on sale before you finally pulled the trigger. 

Until Thanksgiving. 

When you saw how unflattering your arms looked in the black cashmere tank you’d brought for dinner to your parents’ house. You thanked your past self for having the forethought to pack a cardigan, which didn’t come off until hours later after all your aunts and uncles and cousins had left and you were snuggled up in Bradley’s arms. 

Maybe you should try the HIIT classes on your Peloton instead of all those beginner rides you were still doing with Cody? Or get arm weights? The girls who worked out in the front two rows of your pilates class swore by them. They barely needed any input from the instructor - they just knew how to move their bodies that way. Or maybe you could ask your parents for a higher Class Pass subscription for Christmas? It would give you something to focus on while Bradley was gone. 

You hadn’t been this self conscious at the gala back in October and that dress was far more daring than anything you’d ever worn before; practically open back, with a risqué slit and a deep v neckline, to say nothing of what you had worn just for Bradley later that night. 

So, why now? Why tonight when you were supposed to be enjoying this time with your boyfriend and all your friends before the holidays? Why tonight, when everything else was going so right, were you being bogged down by this insecurity in your own home - no, no, it was Bradley’s home, not yours.

Was it because he was leaving? And you didn’t want one of his last images of you for three months to be your arms in a too tight dress? Because that was so shallow and silly and ridiculous. 

But what if it was true? Bradley was so pretty and handsome and charming and sweet, what if there was someone else on that boat that also thought he was pretty and handsome and charming and sweet? And you’d seen all the other aviators and naval personnel at that gala, they were stunning. What if Bradley thought that too - no, no, no. You weren’t going to focus on that for one of your last nights with him. 

Bradley loved you, Bradley proved how much he loved you every single day, Bradley catered to your every whim about this party with the biggest smile on his face. 

Bradley loved you. 

You were just being ridiculous and shallow and over dramatic and spiraling before he left. Bradley loved you, Bradley loved you. He loved you. He - was wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“How’s it going?” His voice rumbled in your ear and you leaned back against him. 

God, he was so strong and soft and warm and smelled so pretty all the time. You were going to miss him so much. You felt him fiddle with the bow tying your burgundy dress together and ducked your head. 

“Good, just came to get a drink.” Which you had been doing - about three minutes ago. “And wanted to make sure everyone in here was all set.”

Bradley hummed and swayed you back and forth in his arms. “Look at you, hostess with the mostess - or however that goes. You want me to make you another drink?”

You nodded. “Please.”

You both had decided to set up the bar in the kitchen, while keeping the food in the dining room and the dessert in the sitting room for later. Hours ago, before you had even hopped in the shower, the bar had been painstakingly set up and organized. Now, it needed some work. You cursed yourself for not checking on it earlier in the evening - you couldn’t believe your guests had been serving themselves from this all night. 

The glasses were no longer in neat rows, organized by type, the bowl with the limes was running dangerously low, and the caps to the liquor bottles and the champagne corks were scattered across the table. Without a second thought, you started organizing everything before Bradley could even get you a fresh glass. 

You could tell he wanted to say something, but - at least for that moment - he just rubbed your back and then poured you another glass of champagne, making sure to put the bottle back properly. Meanwhile, you scooped up the stray corks and foil and other bottle caps and threw them in the garbage underneath the sink. You had enough time, maybe you could pop those dirty wine glasses in the empty dishwasher? Wait - there was a puddle of condensation underneath an open bottle of champagne. You frowned. Clearly, someone hadn’t put it back in the bucket. Who would do that? Didn’t they know to put it back exactly where -  

“- You good?” 

Bradley’s voice was so soft and reassuring and you couldn’t believe you’d soon be going without hearing it for months. Unable to wait another second, you wrapped your arms around him in a hug, which he eagerly returned and you nuzzled his chest. Bradley’s shirt for the party was an exceptionally soft flannel in a solid navy color that you’d found on sale. He hated buying himself clothes, even more so spending a lot of money on them, but he always liked whatever you picked out for him. 

Maybe you could buy him some new clothes while he was gone? By now, you knew what he liked and didn’t like - right down to the colors and fabric types. He needed some new undershirts - and socks. You nuzzled your face into his chest. He felt so warm and soft and smelled so good. You had to buy a travel sized bottle of his cologne before he left. 

“You sure you’re okay, kid?” he asked again. 

“Just a little overwhelmed - and kinda tired.” You pulled your head back to look at him, but the two of you still kept your arms around the other. 

“Well,” Bradley started, “to be fair, you did do like all the work for this party, think it’s valid to be a little tired, sweetheart.”

“What? No?” You were offended on his behalf. “Bubs, you made all the food and -”

“- Yeah, but you helped with the food and did all the work getting the house ready.”

You cocked your head, considering this. “I mean, I did. Didn’t I?” Bradley chuckled. “Okay, fine - I’m tired. But it’s a good tired, I think?”

“A good tired, huh?” His thumbs were making the most soothing circles on your hips.

“Like a heart full tired? A changing for dinner after a spending a day at the beach tired - no, wait. A post gala eating french fries in bed and watching Moonstruck tired?” An after you fucked me so hard I could barely remember my own name tired. 

“You should’ve just led with that last one.” He kissed your temple and ran his hands up and down the silk fabric covering your arms. “Would’ve known exactly what you were talking about then.”

You lightly shoved his chest and then pulled him back in for a hug. “I’m also gonna miss you a lot…”

That was the crux of it. You were going to miss him so much you thought your heart was going to burst. And enjoying all the Christmas festivities tonight - on the second Saturday in December - made it all the more apparent that Bradley wasn’t going to be with you over the holidays. He wouldn’t be with you again until March. 

You two had gotten through plenty of training missions, short diplomatic visits, and off-sites - on your end - over the last eight months. But this was Bradley’s first, real deployment. 

God, if only Emily Simpson could see you now. You and Bradley had both been so cocky, so confident back in October at the gala about how effortlessly you handled the time spent apart. But you hadn’t been staring down a three month long deployment back then. 

Three months was a long time. Six pay cycles, at least twelve trips to the grocery, four off-sites, the entirety of Q1, five nail appointments, twenty four pilates classes, and if he knocked you up that very night, it could be the entirety of a first trimester of pregnancy. Not that you wanted to be pregnant - at least not for a while. Like quite a while. It was just a way to compare time. You didn’t want to be pregnant. 

Three months, three months, three months. 

And then he’d come home to you. To you and your life together.

That’s why the party had to be perfect. Because it would remind Bradley of home and all he had to look forward to when he came back in three months. 

“I’m gonna miss you, too.  Never really had someone to miss before on one of these - not like this.” 

And then he kissed you - quick, little butterfly kisses that soon turned bolder and more daring, especially considering there were five or so other people milling about the kitchen. Bradley’s tongue licked your bottom lip, eventually coaxing your mouth open. He tasted like the old fashioned you saw him drinking earlier. You slid your arms up his chest to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer and fiddled with the ends of his soft hair. 

The sounds of the party disappeared around you - you could no longer hear Frank Sinatra singing Jingle Bells, Jake and Georgie talking in the corner, or Javy getting drinks for him and his girlfriend to your right.

All you could focus on was Bradley. And how warm and soft and strong he felt in your arms and how -

“- Fuck’s sake, Bradshaw. Do you want us to leave or…”

You turned around to face Jake and Georgie, the latter of whom looked beyond embarrassed, and leaned back against Bradley’s chest. Shit - you’d forgotten you had an audience, especially Jake and Javy.

“Sorry…” You felt warm all over at getting caught. Normally, you and Bradley weren’t big on PDA, but you’d been needy lately - both of you had been. 

Further down to your right, Javy just chuckled. “Give ‘em a break. You’d be the same if you could hold someone down long enough.” Bradley laughed, while Jake turned beat red.

While him and Javy started chirping at each other, Bradley took your hand and led you out of the kitchen, past all the guests congregating in the dining room and over towards the sitting room. 

“Here, I know what’ll cheer you up.”

There were only a couple people in this part of the house - Caroline and Max, Bob and Callie, and Natasha and Rory, the latter of whom had gone with her to the gala back in October. They were a relatively quiet crowd and looked to be captivated by a story Max was telling. But then again, people were always captivated by Max. 

“…so I say to Garoppolo, ‘you really wanna get the shit beaten out of you for the second time this week?’ Because a guy who folds in front of the fucking Broncos’ defensive line is not one I think can handle being humiliated like this on - aww, if it isn’t Bradley-Boy and our lovely hostess. Come here and give me a kiss, sweetheart.” You chuckled and started over towards Max. “No, not you, darling. I meant Bradley-Boy.” 

With giggles and jeers, everyone turned towards Bradley, who was definitely blushing. But ever the dutiful host, he trudged over towards Max and planted a sloppy kiss on his forehead. 

You had met Max over a year ago via your best friend from college, Caroline. Bradley, on the other hand, had met Max in late March at Mission Beach, right before the two of you had started going out. 

Since moving back to California, Bradley had taken up surfing again and relished his weekend mornings out in the chilly Pacific. It had taken a couple weeks for the guys to realize they were both regulars and get past the initial head nod greeting, but after that they got on like a house on fire. Despite Max being a typical nepotism baby, VC-firm-bro type and Bradley the outgoing, naval man, they were each other’s best friend.

And to be perfectly honest, you thought they may have been a little in love with each other.

Who knows, maybe you would have been at Bradley and Max’s holiday party if you hadn’t met him in April.

“All good now, peaches?” Bradley teased and then turned to everyone else in their little group. “Just so you know, the story ends with Jimmy G challenging Maxi-Pad to a closest to the pin contest and Max shanking his tee shot.”

You laughed and wrapped your free arm back around Bradley’s waist. “Was this how you planned to cheer me up?”

“Oh, god. What’d you do now, Rooster?” Natasha teased. 

“Can I call you ‘Rooster?’” Max asked, much to Caroline’s delight.

“Absolutely fucking not,” Bradley said and then turned towards Natasha. “And nothing, just trying to do everything so can to make sure my girl has a lovely evening.” Everyone let out various sighs and swoons, except Nat and Max, who feigned gagging. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

He grabbed your free hand again and brought you over to the upright piano in the corner, next to where Callie and Bob were lounging on the loveseat. You desperately hoped Bradley was going to play for you - maybe even some Christmas carols. He had such a natural talent for it, even beyond his usual Hard Deck repertoire of that damn Jerry Lee Lewis song. He could play Debussy, Ravel, Schumann - anything, really. You figured he’d start off with Jingle Bells or something like that, but he surprised you with something new.

Bradley’s fingers twinkled out the opening notes to Linus and Lucy and you, and the others in the sitting room, couldn’t help but laugh. He had been right - this did cheer you up. You had always loved the Peanuts. 

Growing up, you’d gone to the Charles Schulz Museum in Santa Rosa too many times to count. It became your favorite place during your parents’ divorce and you always begged your dad to take you whenever you were having a bad day. But then, when the divorce had been finalized and you, your dad and brother eventually moved down to Berkeley, you didn’t get the opportunity to go as often. But your love for the cartoon characters never died and you had the sneaking suspicion that Bradley had learned the song for you - this was the first time you’d ever heard him play it.

You took a hearty sip of your champagne and leaned your arms on the top of the piano, eventually resting your cheek against your fist. Your cheeks hurt from the massive smile stretching across your face as you looked fondly at Bradley. He was concentrating so hard, his tongue was peeking out of his mouth. And his long, graceful fingers were flying across the keys. 

You couldn’t imagine how long it took him to learn this if he was already off book. Did you mention his fingers? His hands? God, they were beautiful. Strong and long and corded - was that the right word? You recalled it from those regency romance novels you had hidden on your Kindle. God, you loved him so much. So fucking much. You’d never loved a person this much before - oh, you were going to miss him so much.

“You two are just like Lucy and Schroeder,” Callie cooed, snapping you out of your thoughts and causing Bradley to fumble a couple of notes. He also was blushing, which was sweet. 

A couple more people filtered into the sitting room, drawn in by the music, and soon people were throwing out requests for Bradley to play while others chatted in the background. He took Pete’s suggestion of Jingle Bells and soon played a jazzy version of the song. 

While Bradley played, the older man came up to you to chat. Penny couldn’t make it to the party, which was admittedly a bit of a disappointment, but she was hoping to stop by later once things wound down a bit at the Hard Deck. 

“Hell of a party, kid.” He toasted you with his beer. 

“Thanks, I just wanted to do something nice for Bradley.”

“Pretty sure you could’ve gotten a pizza and he would’ve been happy.”

You considered that. “True, but that hardly sounds fun - plus, this way I could get a new outfit.”

Pete smiled and you both glanced over towards the piano for a moment as Bradley got Natasha and Bob to sing along with him. It was nice seeing them all carefree and happy and just lighter. Bradley glanced over his shoulder at you and winked. 

“It’s nice seeing him like this,” Pete said. “Hell, last Christmas it was like pulling teeth to get the kid over to Penny’s for Christmas Eve and to see him get a tree and have people over at his place is just - it makes me really happy. Sorry if that’s corny or -”

“- No,” you reassured him, “well, maybe a little. But corny is good sometimes. Especially around the holidays.”

“You guys gonna do gifts tomorrow or…”

You shook your head. “Nah, we’re gonna do them tonight after everyone leaves.”

Pete took a sip of his beer and nodded. “The kid wouldn’t stop talking about your gift, I swear he told everyone on base.”

You felt yourself heat up and glanced over at Bradley again. “Really?” Pete nodded. “I’m nervous now, we promised we were only doing one present, so I hope he likes mine...”

“He will,” Pete sounded certain. “You think you guys will do this at your place every year? Maybe start a new tradition?”

That was a lovely thought. Celebrating Christmas with Bradley for the next x amount of years. Plus, doing this before Christmas would give everyone the opportunity to get together before the actual holidays. 

“Oh, I’d love to,” you gushed, “but it’s Bradley’s call. It’s his house - what?”

Pete cut you off with a look. “Come on, by now you know it’s your house as much as Bradley’s…”

Oh, gosh. You hoped so - one day, at least. The two of you barely spent a night apart, baring whenever one of you was away for work. You barely considered your apartment your home anymore. Instead, it was on the couch in Bradley’s living room, watching TV. Or cooking breakfast together on the weekends and watching Sunday Morning at the kitchen table. Laying beside him in bed at night, his big arms wrapped around you, as you whispered how much you loved each other. You had never felt this way before Bradley, like another person was home. 

And you wanted to be home all the time. 

You could feel the heat creep up your neck, the warmth only amplified by Bradley’s soothing voice singing Let It Snow. 

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Pete apologized, “I just wanted you to know that I can see how much you guys care about each other. And he’s my kid - at the end of the day, I just want him to be happy.” He laid a reassuring hand on your shoulder and you ducked your head before nodding.

Back when you had first met him, you had imagined that gaining Pete’s approval was how you would have felt had Bradley’s parents been alive to give it to you. You thought about them often - more often than you’d ever let Bradley think - and especially as of late. Would they have liked you? Would they have gotten along with your parents? From what you’d been told, they would have made amazing grandparents. Maybe Bradley would even have had more siblings? Maybe, maybe, maybe.

“He makes me really happy, too,” you whispered. Pete pulled you in for a hug and then the two of you just watched Bradley playing for a few moments while the party continued around you two. 

“I’m gonna get another beer, you want anything?” Pete asked. 

You just shook your head. “Nah, I’m good for now, but thanks again for coming. It means a lot to both of us.”

“Wouldn’t miss it, just make sure the kid doesn’t drink too much. He always gets a little chatty…” And then Pete set off towards the kitchen, leaving you alone, but only for a moment until you heard Max’s voice in the hallway.

“Caro, darling, will you help me with something outside…” You crept over towards him, curious to see what he was up to and why he needed Caro’s help.

Caroline didn’t even look up from her phone. “I’m not giving you a handjob, darling.”

“Oh, please don’t,” you drawled, alerting them both to your presence, “Mr. Harrington already thinks we’re delinquents, can’t have him thinking we associate with them, too,” you said referring to your - no, Bradley’s neighbor. 

Mr. Harrington hadn’t exactly called you and Bradley delinquents - rather, he had called you a fresh young lady after you had unknowingly flipped him off at an intersection in another neighborhood, only to find out that he was the crotchety old man that lived next door to Bradley. He had been waiting for you in the driveway when you’d gotten home a few minutes later, demanding to talk to Bradley about you. But the old man hadn’t stood a chance with you and Bradley had just stood on the porch with a proud smile on his face as you gave him a piece of your mind. Since then, he’d just pass silent judgment whenever he saw you outside.

Max held up two fingers. “I’ll be on my best behavior, Scout’s honor.”

“It’s three fingers, dumbass.”

He breezed past you and started towards the door, gesturing for Caroline to follow him. “Good thing I was never a Boy Scout then…”

“Please, Max. Just tell me if you’re going to -”

“- Secrets, secrets are only fun unless you don’t share with anyone -”

“- That’s not even how it goes!” 

Max shrugged and grabbed Caroline’s hand, pulling her close to his side. “It’ll be fun, we promise! Plus, maybe Max won’t even come back to the party…”

Oh, he was definitely doing the Santa thing. But at this point, maybe it would be fun and memorable? And maybe you were just drunk enough to let it happen. 

“Fine, fine. As long as Max doesn’t come back to the party, you can do whatever you have planned -” 

Max cut you off with a sloppy kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, love. Now, Caro! Your assistance, please!”

You waved them off towards the front door and made your way back to the sitting room where Bradley was taking requests for his next song. 

His eyes were scanning the room for whom you realized was you and a great, big smile spread across his face. “Nah, I got one already. Just needed my girl in here for this.” You chuckled and walked over towards the piano. “Figured we had to end on a high note, plus I heard a rumor Santa’s coming…”

There were hoots and hollers throughout the room, which didn’t let up even as Bradley played the first notes of the song he apparently needed you for assistance. 

“I’ll sing the first few lines, but then you gotta take over, alright, sweetheart?”

You sat next to him on the narrow bench and giggled, not quite knowing what he had up his sleeve, but more than ready to go along for the ride. “You got it, rocketman.”

Bradley pecked you on the lips and then turned to the room as he played. 

“I really can’t stay…baby, it’s cold outside…I’ve got to go ‘way…baby, it’s cold outside…”

Oh god. 

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

Hours later, after all your guests had left, fuller and far drunker than they’d been when they’d arrived, you and Bradley were tidying up the living room. The dishwasher was rumbling in the kitchen, the first of many loads you’d have to do tonight and tomorrow, but it was drowned out by the music still playing on the Sonos, while the extra food had been put away in the fridge.

From your spot across the room where you were fluffing the couch cushions, you glanced over towards Bradley. He sat, leaning against the chaise lounge, and idly sipped from a bottle of champagne that he kept putting down on the floor - though on a coaster, mind you. His hair was perfectly tousled and messy and he had a pleased smile on his face as he stared at the Christmas tree in front of him. His right hand was absentmindedly running up and down his thigh, just begging for you to ride it.

You joined him on the floor and he wordlessly passed the bottle of champagne to you before throwing his arm around your shoulders. 

“You did good, kid,” he said suddenly. 

A smile lit up your face. “Really?” Brady chuckled at your earnestness. “You’re not just saying that because this is like the first halfway decent party you’ve ever -”

“- Hey! I’ve been to plenty of decent parties! But I think - I think that this might be the best one yet.”

As a reward for his sweetness, you gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You think everyone got along? I only overheard one argument between Caro and Jake.” And it had been over the latest cryptocurrency scandal of all things. 

“Yeah, but to be fair, I think trauma bonding over your singing really brought everyone together.”

You were not as bad as Bradley had said - at the very least, you could carry a tune. Granted, you wouldn’t be on the Voice anytime soon, but if you were an SNL cast member and needed to sing for a sketch, you might be okay. And no one really focused on the actual singing during Baby It’s Cold Outside - it wasn’t exactly the paragon of Christmas songs or social norms. 

But it was just about the perfect duet, in that it was a crowd pleaser, a little slutty, and campy as hell. And as it so happened, you had been feeling a little slutty with all the champagne you had drunk throughout the evening. Plus, with Bradley on the keys and no one else sober enough to make fun of your less than stellar singing skills, you had been a glutton for attention. You had used your champagne coupe as a microphone and had only spilled a couple drops - at first.

“- But baby, it's cold outside -”

“ - This welcome has been -”

“ - How lucky that you dropped in -”

“ - So nice and warm -”

“ - Look out the window at that storm -”

“ - My sister will be suspicious -”

“ - Gosh, your lips look delicious -” Bradley kissed your proffered hand and you shimmied around the piano bench, eventually draping yourself over his shoulders while he continued playing.

Would you regret it in the morning? Probably. Did the song have a weird history? Yes. But it was your goddamn Christmas party! And you had wanted to have fun and fawn over your boyfriend. It had also been a good distraction from what you had correctly assumed was Max planning to crash the party as Santa with a sleigh full of presents for everyone. But Max was richer than Croesus; he could afford it.

“Come on, Bradshaw. How’s she been this year? Naughty or nice?”

You shot Bradley a glance, curious as to what his answer would be. But he just smiled wryly and toasted Max with his drink before taking a sip.

You closed the distance between the two of you and whispered in his ear, “Clever boy…”

He grabbed your ass, thankfully out of sight of your guests. “My smart girl…”

“Is that what you want me to be tonight?”

Frankly, you had been shocked Bradley hadn’t kicked everyone out then and there. 

But now you were cozy and tired in all the best ways and had Bradley to yourself for the rest of the evening. You burrowed your face into his chest and pressed a couple kisses to the column of his neck, suddenly desperate to touch him. It seemed Bradley was of the same mindset and carefully settled you on his lap. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling you closer and you shifted your attention to his lips. 

Somehow, the two of you wound up laying on the floor at the edge of the Christmas tree. The soft lights made Bradley’s brown eyes appear like pools of chocolate and you flushed. He groaned as you rolled your hips against his lap, already feeling the bulge forming in his jeans. Shit - were you going to fuck underneath the Christmas tree? Like properly fuck on the floor underneath the Christmas tree.

You started grinding against him, desperate to be closer, and then kissed along his neck in the hopes of leaving a reminder of this night for him. You peered up at the Christmas tree, lost in the beauty of the moment, when you suddenly noticed something. 

The presents.

The presents under the tree.

The three presents under the tree. 

Except…

There were only supposed to be two presents under the tree. One from each of you. You had been very clear about that right after Thanksgiving. Had even set a price limit.

Fuck. Oh, no. No, no, no. You pulled back and Bradley chased your lips with his own.

“Bubs! We said one present each!” 

He shrugged underneath you and kept rubbing his hands in soothing circles on your hips. “It’s nothing - well, it’s not nothing. But it’s just something I’ve been thinking about for a while and I figured this would be a good time.”

“But - but I only got you one!” 

Oh god - oh god. You ruined it. You ruined Bradley’s Christmas. You knew you should’ve gotten him that Otis Redding vinyl, too. But a Theragun? What had you been thinking? That was such a dumb gift. So impersonal, so boring, so basic. It was on three different gift guides from the Strategist for fuck’s sake. You figured it would be good for his back while he was deployed, you knew it had been giving him a lot of trouble lately. But now that Bradley had given you two gifts? In two separate boxes? 

You didn’t think the ornament you’d gotten him counted as a separate gift. Tacking it onto the box was just something your family had always done.

Clearly noticing the panic on your face, Bradley sat up slightly. “Hey, hey. It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s -”

“- I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to ruin everything. I knew I should’ve had a back up present for you-”

He said your name firmly and you looked up at him. “- You didn’t ruin anything, alright? Hey, why don’t you open it first and then we can talk about it, okay?”

“Okay…”

You reached out for the present like it was going to explode, barely even taking notice of how nicely it had been wrapped. (Granted, you were still you, so you did actually notice, but probably would have fawned over the quaint wrapping paper and grosgrain ribbon a bit more had you not already been wigging out.) Next to you, Bradley bit his lip as he watched you peel through the paper. Why was he so nervous? He always gave you the best presents.

At first, there was nothing but a small gift box. It wasn’t terribly heavy. And it definitely wasn’t jewelry. Mainly because any of the jewelry you actually would have liked was definitely not within the spending limit, which Bradley knew. But also, it just didn’t feel like jewelry. It couldn’t have been an ornament, he wouldn’t have been this nervous.

So, what the fuck was it?

You slid your finger underneath the flap of the box and popped the lid open. But then there was the tissue paper. Goddamnit, Bradley! Why was he so good at wrapping presents! You glanced up at him only to see that he was blushing. Properly blushing. Like pink neck, pink cheeks - hell, even the tips of his ears were pink - blushing. 

Unable to take the suspense a moment longer, you dove into the tissue paper to find -

“- A key?” Your fingers gently picked up the offending object, only belatedly noticing that the key fob matched your favorite work tote bag. 

Bradley nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been wanting to ask you to move in with me for ages, it’s just we had so much time until it would become an issue, but then I got deployed and I know your lease will just about be up by the time I get back in the spring. So, I figured now would be a good time to ask if you wanted to move in with me? But if you think it’s too soon, I can totally wait. However long it takes for you to be comfortable with it is fine with me - I just want to have my life with you.”

“Bubs…” your voice was thick. “I uhh -”

“- I always want to come home to you - if you’ll have me?”

Oh god, oh god, oh god. You let out a disbelieving laugh. You would have Bradley Bradshaw in any way you could get him. He was your home.

You wiped away a wayward tear. “Bradley, this is - this is so unbelievably perfect. Yes, yes, I will move with you.”

He surged forward to kiss you and you temporarily forgot all your previous worries because Bradley wanted to move in with you. He wanted to share furniture and go grocery shopping for food that would go in the same fridge. He wanted to wake up beside you every single morning and come home to you every single evening and go to sleep beside you every single night. He wanted everything. And that’s what you wanted to give him.

“God, I love you so much.”

You never got tired of hearing him say that. “I love you, too. Sorry I made such a big deal about the presents…”

“No, I’m sorry. I should’ve just put it in with the other gift, I get how it could have thrown you off.”

He was being nice and not pushing it for the moment, which you really appreciated. “Say, why don’t you open your gift from me and then I’ll open your other one?”

You crawled over towards the other two presents under the tree and gave the one that said to; rocketman to Bradley, while you took the other one with your name on it. It was decently sized and relatively light. The thing with Bradley that always made you nervous was that he gave the best presents.

For your birthday, he had not only organized a trip for the two of you out to Catalina Island, but he had also learned how to fucking sail Penny’s boat, so he could be the one to take you there himself. He had been so excited and had looked so cute in his white linen pants and navy blue button down and you swore you had never been more attracted to him. 

And then, for your six month anniversary, he had somehow gotten you two into Addison out in Carmel Valley for dinner and then followed that up with a trip to the drive-in to see a special showing of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. Though to be fair, neither of you had paid as much attention to the movie as you had been too busy necking each other in the backseat of the Bronco.

In short, he was a prince among men. Well, except when he wasn’t. But that wasn’t often. So, you were excited, but wary to open his gift, knowing nothing could possibly top the house key.

You tore through the wrapping paper to find another box similar to the one from earlier, except this one was heavier. Beneath the tissue paper laid a thick white envelope and an apron in a Liberty pattern. Your smile grew as you opened the envelope and saw that Bradley had gifted you cooking lessons for the next three months.

“Bubs.” You nudged his shoulder. “This is perfect, thank you. The apron is super cute, too.”

Bradley chuckled. “Now you can stop wearing mine and hopefully stop burning risotto -”

“- It was one time!” 

“Yeah and you almost burned down your apartment.” You made a face and he made one right back before turning serious. “But I thought it would be nice, something for you to do while I’m gone.”

You kissed his cheek. “I’m excited and I’m gonna make you the best dinner you’ve ever had when you come home to me, alright?”

“It’s a date.” 

“Perfect, now open yours!” You pushed the present towards him. 

Bradley was one of those people that opened presents like they were going to save the wrapping paper, which meant he did it slowly and purposefully. This normally didn’t bother you, but you were already a little on edge from earlier and had to sit on your hands to stop you from ripping the paper off yourself.

First, he took off the little ornament you had affixed to the package. Harkening back to your first date, you had gotten him a Saturn V Rocket ornament to add to the tree, giving your rocketman something to aspire to.

He shook his head. “I’ll get there one day, sweetheart…” he said fondly. “Now let’s see what we have here.”

The nerves settled in your stomach again and you barely let him unwrap the present before you jumped on him with an explanation.

“Wait, is this one of those -”

“ - It’s a Theragun. I know I make fun of you for having a sore back and being old a lot, but I thought this could help when you’re deployed and I’m not around to tend to your every need,” you teased.

Bradley conceded a nod. “You do give good back massages…” You preened. “But I get these ads on my Instagram all the time, so this is perfect, thank you.”

“I figured it wasn’t something you’d buy for yourself and it’ll come in hand -”

“- I bet it’s a wicked strong vibrator - owww!”

“Bradley!” You giggled. Holy shit, you hadn’t even thought of that. There were like five different speeds on that thing and six different attachments. Fuck. “In that case, maybe I should keep it…”

“You wouldn’t dare.” He slid the box behind his back and you crawled over to steal it away from him.

But before you could wrap your arms around him, Bradley pulled you into his lap and eventually the Theragun was pushed away and the two of you were sprawled out on the floor making out like a bunch of horny teenagers again.

Goddamn - you really were gonna fuck underneath the Christmas tree, weren’t you? Now that would be the perfect memory for Bradley to take with him. Festive and fun and spontaneous.

His hands felt sinful as they crept up your thighs. It was like he was mapping out the slowest route to his destination, especially as they cupped your ass and ground your body against his. Suddenly, you let out a hiss as your elbow hit the hardwood floor, but quickly reassured Bradley that you were okay once he stopped to check in with you.

He whispered your name. “I need you so badly.”

“- Fuck, me too. Want you to take me right here -”

“- Owww,” Bradley let out a groan against your lips.

You immediately pulled back, concern lacing your features. “Shit, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just - I don’t think we should do this on the floor?”

“But it’s very spur of the moment?” You glanced around the living room, past the Christmas tree and the wrapping paper from your respective presents. “What about the couch?”

“We just got it dry-cleaned - again.”

You sat further back on his lap and Bradley propped himself up on his elbows. Your wrap dress draped prettily over your bare thighs. “We can put a towel down?”

“Isn’t it upstairs?”

You made a face. “I could go get it? Or we could break out a new one?”

“Then I might as well come upstairs with you -”

“- But I want it to be spontaneous!”

He rolled his hips and you sighed. “We can be spontaneous upstairs…”

“Yeah, but…” You could feel the tears starting to form and your throat closing up.

Bradley tried to get in your line of sight after you ducked your head. “Hey, what is it? It’s alright.”

You sniffled. “I just want you to have some good memories before you leave and be spontaneous - especially since during the party I was pretty stressed and uptight -” The last word came out bitterly, but Bradley didn’t let you finish your sentence. 

“- Hey, none of that, alright? I knew you were a little stressed, but just chalked it up to the party. What’s really going on, sweetheart?”

You wanted to tell him. That you were going to miss him and wanted him to be able to think of the two of you doing all these fun and exciting and wonderful things before he left. That you didn’t want him to think of you crying and puffy eyed and sad. That you didn’t want him to think of you having sex in your bed, like any other night, but how you couldn’t even make it upstairs because you needed each other so much, so desperately and had to make due with the living room floor. 

Just say you were tired. Just say you were tired. 

But when Bradley took your hand and threaded your fingers together and started drawing circles across your palm, the tears came. And came and came and didn’t stop. You rubbed at your eyes with your free hand and repositioned yourself to lay beside him. 

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, come here.” Bradley wrapped his arm around your shoulders and let you rest your head on his chest. “Shh, shh, it’s okay, honey.” 

Once the tears slightly abated, you took in a deep breath to ground yourself. “I wanted everything to be perfect for you since you’re not going to be home for Christmas and all this stuff went wrong -”

“- Sweetheart, baby, no, no. It didn’t go wrong, everything went really really right.”

“Really?” you whispered.

Bradley chuckled. “Yeah, best Christmas I’ve had since - fuck, I can’t remember when. Come here.” He wrapped his arms around you.

“I know it was dumb to be worried about it - and to let myself get upset over it - but I think I was just so focused on the party and the presents and making everything perfect because I don’t want to think too much about you leaving.” You sniffled. “And I feel like that makes me seem childish or like I can’t handle this - your job, I mean. But I’m really just going to miss you, so fucking much. And I’ve never felt like this before.”

The look in Bradley’s eyes after you unloaded all that made you feel ten times lighter and you regretted not saying anything earlier. 

“Sweetheart…” He tucked your hair behind your ear. “It’s definitely not dumb to be worried about stuff like that and I know you can handle all of this - I’m not worried in that respect. I just want you to know how much I appreciated every single thing you’ve done for me these last couple weeks trying to make sure I had a good Christmas. And I know it’s cliche to say, but it’s the goddamn truth - I don’t care what we do for Christmas as long as I get to spend it at home with you, alright?”

Your heart soared and you felt the tears forming again at his words. I don’t care what we do for Christmas as long as I get to spend it at home with you. Because in the end, that was all that really mattered. You just kept your reply simple. “Alright, rocketman.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You kissed him again. “I love you so much, bubs.”

“Even though I’m old and don’t think we should fuck on the living room floor?” 

You chuckled at his attempt to bring some levity into an otherwise heavy conversation. “Yes, Bradley. I love you even though you wouldn’t let me fuck you on the living room floor…”

This time, Bradley pulled you closer, so your body was spread out on top of him and kissed you, licking your bottom lip before opening your mouth up to him. His hands snuck underneath the skirt of your silk dress, skirting the edge of your panties. You sighed. His hands were calloused and a little rough, but they still touched you like you were the most precious thing in the world. 

“Hold up, I never said I wouldn’t let you, I just said I don’t think - hey!” Bradley tried to fend off your tickle attack, but could only get a few words out between his giggles. “Stop, you know I’m old!”

Your ridiculously handsome, thirty-six year old, naval aviator boyfriend was giggling on the floor of your house because your were tickling his sides. If only you could show this version of Bradley to the Navy - maybe then they wouldn’t take him away from you at Christmas. Stupid US Military Industrial Complex. Fucking Lockheed Martin. 

“Also, are you still upset that I got you two presents? Because if you are, can I just make you come once tonight? Level the field.”

You giggled. “Shut up.” Your kiss cut off any reply he had been about to give and you licked his bottom lip, coaxing open his mouth. 

“Uh, uh, uh.” You paused and tilted your head slightly to look Bradley in the eye. “Now, what did Santa ask earlier, huh? You been naughty or nice this year?”

There were two ways in which this could play out - with two different, though ultimately satisfying results. One would play out relatively quickly - and the other would ensure you were occupied all night. 

“Nice?” 

Bradley clicked his tongue. “Don’t know about that…”

“Why not? Haven’t I been good?” You pouted, completely exaggerated, which Bradley picked up on in an instant.

“Good girls don’t typically have to ask if they’ve been good…”

“Maybe I don’t want to be good tonight…”

Bradley sucked in a breath as you snuck your hand underneath his shirt and teased the waistband of his jeans. His skin was hot to the touch beneath your fingers as you unbuttoned his shirt. You leaned forward to press little butterfly kisses to his neck and gradually made your way down past the little tufts of hair on his chest. 

“Please touch me, sweetheart. Please.” 

There was a carnal need inside you to mark his skin. To give him proof of your love and need for him, so that he could look at the marks in the mirror until they faded. A kiss across his neck, a soft bite on his shoulder, another on his bicep by his tattoo. You’re mine. Mine, mine, mine. And I want everyone to know. 

“God, Bradley. You’re so beautiful,” you whispered against his skin. “So beautiful and all mine.”

Bradley let out a whine as your teeth grazed against the sensitive flesh on his neck. “Fuck, I love you.”

His hands inched up your thighs, getting closer to the throbbing heat between your legs. Maybe it was the festive spirit, the fact that Bradley had asked you to move in with him, or that he was shipping out in 28 hours for three months, but you were pathetically wet already. Desperate and needy and as naughty as he had joked earlier. 

“I can feel the heat pouring off you, sweetheart.” 

“Can we go - ahhh - can we go upstairs, please?”

He pulled back slightly. “What happened to fucking on the living room floor?” he teased. 

“Don’t want to fuck up your old man back anymore - Bradley!” you cried out as he smacked your ass. 

“Old man, huh?” His smile was sinful and you were putty in his hands.

You widened your eyes, trying to appear contrite. “Sorry, sir. It won’t happen - Bradley!” He cut you off again, but this time because he was tickling your sides and your giggles made it impossible to speak. “Ta-take me upstairs, bubs - please. Don’t - don’t want you to hold back.”

“Now how could I refuse that?”

Gradually, the two of you made your way upstairs to the bedroom, though with a couple of breaks in between for Bradley to press you up against the walls and on the staircase. You’d have bruises tomorrow, you were sure. But you wanted them to last - to be something to remember this night by for the weeks and months to come. 

You landed heavily on the bed, bouncing slightly, and peered up at Bradley. His bare chest was rising and falling steadily with each breath he took as he looked you over, like he was trying to memorize you. 

Without breaking eye contact, you rose to your knees and pulled at the pretty little bow tying your wrap dress. Hours ago, you’d felt self conscious about your body in front of everyone else, but at that moment you felt like the most beautiful girl in the world. Bradley’s eyes widened as he took in the way you slowly pushed the silk dress off your shoulders, leaving you only in your burgundy bra and panties. It wasn’t exactly a matching set, but the colors matched and that was enough for the two of you that night. 

“God, you’re gorgeous.”

Bradley lunged forward, causing you to fall back against the pillows and you wrapped your legs around his hips with a gleeful cry, which he promptly cut off with his lips. 

After spending ample time just kissing you and running his hands up and down your body, Bradley lavished attention on your breasts, licking and biting and sucking on them like a man possessed. Your nipples were peaked to attention, thanks to the slight chill in the bedroom and his thorough ministrations. With one hand, he paid special attention to the skin just below your nipple, rubbing his middle finger along the tender flesh while thumbing at the raised bud. Meanwhile, his other hand kept trekking downward towards your clit. 

“Oh god!” you cried out against his lips as he slid his fingers inside you and crooked them just right. 

“So fucking wet, sweetheart.”

Fuck. You could feel yourself clenching around him, desperate for something more. You were needy for him that night. Needy to have your boyfriend all to yourself. To give yourself to him completely. Your orgasm was well and truly building up inside you, but you wanted to come on his cock first. There would be plenty more opportunities that night to come apart in other ways. 

You’d work him all through the night if you had to just to get your fix before he left. The thought made you desperate. 

“Bu-bubs, please. I need more - need your cock inside me.” You pulled him closer, grazing your thighs against his throbbing cock. 

Bradley groaned. “Such a needy fucking thing, bucking against my fingers like that, huh?” You whined. “But I’m gonna fuck you nice and slow, yeah. Make sure you savor it.”

It sounded fucking sinful the way your cunt was sucking in Bradley’s fingers. He’d begun scissoring them inside you so as to not have to remove them just yet. 

More. More. More. You chanted the words mindlessly in your head. Mine. Mine. Mine. 

Finally, he pulled out his fingers and shamelessly dried them off on your breasts. “You ready?” You nodded frantically. “Don’t think either of us is gonna last long.”

No, you didn’t think so either. But you didn’t want to prolong this. You needed to be close to him and to know he was real and good and yours. At least for tonight. 

Knowing each other as you did, you raised your hips slightly, letting Bradley to slip inside you. You both moaned, you loving the stretch and him loving the tight warmth. You wrapped your arm around his neck, bringing his lips closer to yours, but not daring to lean in those final few centimeters to touch, and instead just breathed against each other. 

“Fuck,” you rasped against his lips, “I love you.”

“Love you so much.” He snapped his hips against yours and you cried out. “Gonna miss you.”

You ducked your head to swipe your lips across the scar on his neck. “Can’t wait for you to come home to me.”

Home. Home. Home. Bradley wouldn’t just be coming back to San Diego in three months: he would be coming home - to you. And to this great, big, beautiful house he wanted to share with you. And to the life he wanted to share with you. 

He groaned your name. “I’ve wanted this for so long. Can’t believe it’s happening.”

Tears pricked your eyes and you bridged the gap to kiss him. “Bubs, I’m so close, please.”

“Tell me how to get you there? I wanna wait for you.” 

If he kept saying things like that, you wouldn’t be too far behind. Without breaking eye contact, you brought Bradley’s hand down to your clit and he played with the sensitive nub. You keened against his hand, which was coupled with a particularly deep thrust of his cock. You felt that coil in your belly finally unraveling.

“‘M close, feels so good. Again…”

He repeated the action again and again, telling you how gorgeous you were as you took his cock and how much he loved you and needed you and you felt like the luckiest girl in the world. Because for tonight you were.

With a strangled cry of his name, you came and true to his word, Bradley followed shortly after. Fuck. He felt so good. He made you feel so good, so full, so loved. 

“Good girl, such a good girl for me.” He peppered kisses up and down your neck and across your cheeks, before settling on your lips. The two of you sat there like that for a few moments, trying to even out your breathing and be as close together as possible. 

But eventually Bradley had to pull out and you whimpered at the loss. He settled you back against the pillows and then started cleaning you up with the towel in his nightstand. Before he got to your still leaking cunt, he scooped up some of your cum with his fingers and brought it to your lips. 

“Open.” You did so without a second thought and cleaned off his fingers, getting high off the taste of the two of you mixed together. “Good girl.”

Then you let yourself get settled underneath the covers. You could go to the bathroom in a few minutes because right now you wanted to be with Bradley. Your bodies were both hot and sticky underneath the white sheets, but you couldn’t think of anywhere else you wanted to be than in his arms. 

“I’m gonna miss you so much, bubs.” You cupped his cheek tenderly, like he would disappear at any moment. A nagging little voice at the back of your mind said that he would, in fact, do just that - on Monday morning. But that night he was yours. 

Bradley nuzzled your hand, eventually pressing a kiss to your palm. “It’s not too long, just three months.”

“Three months without you.” Kiss. “Without your singing.” Kiss. “Your cooking.” Kiss. “Your smile and your silly little mustache.” Kiss. Kiss. “Three months without you, rocketman.” 

Your eyes were swimming with tears, but they were properly dripping down Bradley’s cheeks. 

“But we still have tonight.”

You still had tonight. And you’d be in each other’s arms till the morning light. 

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

Two weeks later, as you sat in your childhood bedroom on Christmas Eve, you were at once hit with a startling realization: it wasn’t your home anymore. It hadn’t been in years, really. Not since you’d officially moved out after college. But that fact had never been so apparent until you were waiting for the Facetime call to connect to Bradley. 

Your home was in San Diego with your friends and your job. Your home was with your boyfriend, snuggled up on the couch watching TV, perusing the aisles of the farmer’s market, watching him surf, and cooking dinner together. Your home was with Bradley. 

And you just wanted to be home - you just wanted Bradley. 

You had put on a brave face during Christmas Eve celebrations with your family - at least with your extended family. You had sung carols at church, helped Mary and your dad prep and lay out all the traditional Christmas Eve dishes, organized the Yankee Swap with your brother and Lauren, and had a few too many cocktails with your cousins. But as the last of your grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins had left and your dad had turned on NBC for the end of It’s a Wonderful Life, you had lost it. 

Properly, honestly, well and truly lost it. As in fat tears streaming down your face, snot clogging your nose, remnants of your mascara rimmed around your eyes lost it.

Goddamn Harry Bailey got to come home in time for Christmas! Harry got to toast to his “big brother George: the richest man in town.” Granted, George had basically just tried to kill himself, so the comparison wasn’t perfect - but still! Congressional Medal of Honor winner, Navy pilot Harry Bailey got to be home for Christmas! Why couldn’t Bradley? Fucking Navy. Fucking stupid US Military Industrial Complex. Fucking Lockheed Martin. 

At the sight of your tears, Mary had just opened up her blanket and let you burrow against her side as she rubbed your back like she used to when you were a kid, while your dad had gotten you a cup of Sleepytime Tea. Eventually, once you had calmed down enough and they had said all the right words to soothe your heartache, you had kissed your dad and Mary goodnight  - Mary had hugged you a bit tighter than usual - and they both had told you to give Bradley their best during your Facetime call. 

They liked Bradley - a lot, actually. Of course, they’d given him a tough time when they first talked on the phone all those months ago, but by the time Bradley officially met them at Thanksgiving, it was like he’d known them for years. He just fit. 

He loved to talk to Mary about her history classes at Berkeley and how her students were doing. He had the same sense of humor as your dad and also loved the Patriots despite their recent offensive coordinator troubles. 

He just made you lighter and made things lighter. He fit. 

And you could only hope that one year he’d be able to come up to Berkeley with you to celebrate for the holidays instead of being all alone on an aircraft carrier somewhere in the Pacific. Fucking Navy. Fucking stupid US Military Industrial Complex. Fucking Lockheed Martin.

Shit! The call was finally connecting. You felt tears in your eyes as you finally got to see your beautiful boy again. Though the picture was a little grainy, Bradley was sitting in what looked like one of the quiet rooms in your office, clad in his green flight suit. And he had the most wonderful smile on his face at the sight of you.

“Hey, sweetheart. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, bubs,” you said, hoping your voice didn’t come out as thickly over Facetime as it did in your room.

For what felt like the longest time, but was probably only a few seconds, you stared at each other, just drinking in the other’s face. Bradley already looked tired. This was your first Facetime since he’d left two weeks ago. Normally, you talked over email - which was actually kind of fun. 

Early on in your relationship during a one week special detachment, you had unironically sent him a pretty formal email to check in:

Bradley,

Hope you’re settling in well. Let me know when it would be a good time to connect via FaceTime. I can put some time on my calendar whenever you’re free. I’m heading to an off-site in Raleigh on Thursday, so I’ll be on East Coast time. 

Miss you and stay safe,

x

It had even been from your PwC email address, which he never let you forget. But soon quasi-formal emails became your thing. They probably set off a bunch of red flags to the censor team and you had never sent one from your work email again, but it was fun. You’d even thought of a couple code words and phrases to use.

“You have a good night? How’s your dad and Mary? Tell them thanks again for the package.”

Your parents had had the idea to send everything they normally would have put in Bradley’s Christmas stocking to him on the carrier. He had emailed the three of you a picture of the package, received in perfect condition, on his bunk yesterday. You two had decided that he would open it while you were on your FaceTime call. It wasn’t anything particularly special, except for two small gifts you’d snuck in before bringing it to the post office, but you were excited and could tell Bradley was too.

You held your breath as he parsed through the Dr.Jart sheet masks, Churchill cigars, various Christmas themed candies, new electric toothbrush heads, and scratch cards until he got to the bottom of the stack where your two special presents were hidden.

“Now, what’s this?” He shot you a teasing glance as he opened the envelope. 

You remained tight lipped, just glad it hadn’t been opened by Naval mail security. Bradley slid the object out of the envelope and you could see his eyes widen, even over Facetime, as he realized what it was before he promptly turned it over and glanced around even though there was no one else in the room with him. 

“Shit - how’d you - how’d you take this?” He leaned back in his chair and stared at it, clearly a little in awe.

You felt your cheeks heating up. “Well, I know you have a couple on your phone, but figured an old fashioned one might be nice too - especially if you’re in a tech blackout or whatever it’s called. But do you really like it - seriously, you don’t have -”

“- No, I love it. You’re not getting this back from me.” You giggled. “But you gotta tell me how you managed to get the Polaroid in the shower with you and still get the soapy titties in the picture?”

“Can’t tell you everything, now can I?”

(Caroline had taken them for you. It truly had been a bonding experience and was honestly not half as sexy as Bradley was probably thinking. But you just smiled - more than content to keep that a secret from him.) 

“Well, it is very much appreciated. So, thank you, I love it, seriously.”

You tried to peer into the box from halfway across the world. “There should be one more thing in there from me - and you don’t have to use it, but I know something similar always makes me feel like you’re right next to me…”

Bradley gingerly unwrapped the final tissue paper package only to reveal a travel sized bottle of your perfume. You giggled, watching him spritz his wrist and breathe in the scent.

“Fuck…I’ve missed that.” 

You rested your cheek against your fist and just watched him. For a minute, it felt like he was right in front of you. It made you want to do something terribly cliche like hold your palm up against the screen and imagine you could feel the heat from his hand as he did the same thing back.

But instead Bradley just smiled at you and asked you all about your Christmas Eve activities.

So, you told him about sneaking outside to smoke with your cousins, drinking too much champagne, eating too much food made from your grandma’s recipes from the old country, getting an actually good gift in the Yankee Swap, and crying over Harry Bailey. And he just listened and smiled and asked questions at all the right parts and kept telling you how much he would have loved to do all that beside you next year. 

And then with your remaining five minutes of calltime, Bradley told you all the goings on aboard the ship and how he and Callie and Javy were doing and about the fancy dinner and breakfast planned for tomorrow.

But then the dreaded countdown clock on the side of the screen popped up, signaling you had thirty seconds left. By then, both of you had tears in your eyes as you tried to say goodbye until your next call.

“So, we’ll talk in two weeks, okay? Should be just after New Year’s, but keep emailing me. I love reading them when I get the chance.”

You wiped a stray tear from your eye. “Of course, I’ll give you a full Christmas morning breakdown.”

Bradley chuckled, but seemed to glance at the countdown clock and sobered up. “I love you, I love you so much and I’m so happy I get to come home to you, sweetheart.”

“I love you, too. Merry Christmas, bubs. Please come home.”

-----------

a/n: sorry it took me so fucking long to write again, but a girl can only be so self indulgent! merry christmas, this taglist is shit sorry!

Taglist: @sunderlust @seasonsbloom @ticklish-leafy-plant @lass-that-is-gone @katcoquette @daniellef89x @double-j @bradshawswife @hufflepuffprincesse @cloudycluster @sithbelova @mavencalorers @fav-rooster-fics @thebeautifullydamnedone @unordinare @callsignvalley @pricklepearbloom @browneyedboys @cherrycola27 @whatblogisthis216 @agentofkrypton @lcahwriter @kyliesalvatore @noellreadfiction @coyotesamachado @heartsofminds @jocsrecs @notroosterbradshaw @roosterforme @iblogtopassthetime @karateperson @nessrin @frenchtoastix @piceous21 @princessphilly @spideyngwen @mrsjobarnes @calmpunker @softspiderling @feralforfrank @fivsecondsflat @sexualparkour @greenorangevioletgrass @sexygaypalpatine @moonyscardigans @carousallie @liveholland @supernaturaldawning @melancholyy-hill @currentlybradshaw @summ3rlotus @seesaw-jk @roostereads @milestomaverick @some-lovely-day​ @steadfastconviction​ ​​@sometimesanalice @jupitercomet @rae-gar-targaryen @oncasette @whisperofsong @call-sign-jinx @howdysebby

[cfr749]

My second favorite thing about reading all your fics is reading the comments and counting how many “LANA WHAT THE FUCK” comments there are hahah. Truly incredible writer you are. Glad I’m not the only one saying/thinking it also hah. Always blown away in every emotion I feel from reading your works highlight of my day to read anything from you, it’s like a movie in my head. Your work is an amazing experience every time.

My heart 😭😭😭

Thank you soooo much for this unbelievably kind and thoughtful comment. I can’t even begin to tell you how happy this made me, and I know your words are going to be something I can come back to when I’m feeling discouraged for a looooong time ❤️❤️❤️

I am so, so excited to finalllllllly get Chenford to their happy ending in BYB; here’s a little sneak peek of what’s to come in the next chapter 🥰

***

Mortified. She is utterly and completely mortified. What had she been thinking?

She had wanted to be honest; to make sure everyone knew that she knew the magnitude of her mistake. That she was the one that messed up.

But then the host had asked that damn question about giving things another try and Tim had just… been all stoic and silent and Tim about it, and someone had to say something.

So she’d fumbled around with her words, trying to explain that she wasn’t in any position to ask that of him, that she’d never expect he’d even want to give her another chance. Not that she didn’t want another chance, of course she wanted another chance. but it had been months, and she was sure he’d moved on… probably with someone who shared his love of beach volleyball and yeah, it had only gone downhill from there. She’d rambled on like a nervous idiot until their host had finally cut her off, looking downright embarrassed on her behalf and suggesting that maybe this was a conversation they could continue after the show.

And god, Tim had been looking at her like she was some kind of alien from outer space by the end.

She doesn’t regret her honesty, but, god, she does kind of wish she’d been less of a weepy mess about it all.

Unsurprisingly, Tim hadn’t hung around backstage after the reunion to catch up like most of the rest of the cast had.

Not that she could blame him. He was a private person, and she’d just word-vomited her feelings all over him in front of the world. He’d moved on with his life — of course it must have been unbelievably uncomfortable and awkward for him to have to sit there while she’d poured her heart out four months too late.

Lucy’s so busy reliving every microsecond of her mortification in horrifically slow motion that she almost misses the rap on her door.

She scrambles to her feet from where she had collapsed back onto the bed as soon as she made it back to her hotel room, only having paused to kick off her painfully high heels before admiring a view of the ceiling as she’d agonized. She tugs at her dress, attempting to rearrange and overlap the two panels enough to avoid an indecent exposure.

She arches up on her toes to check who it is through the peephole. And she’s so taken aback by the sight of him that she momentarily forgets she is supposed to be doing more than just ogling him through the tiny hole.

He lifts his hand to knock again, and she stumbles back in surprise. The sound is much louder when she has her face plastered to the door. She rolls her eyes at herself before taking a deep breath and opening the door.

[aquaquadrant]

Okay so I just wanted to say what an absolutely wild ride this story has been. You and lunar have made such an amazing universe. Your writing skills and general talent regularly broke me over this last year or so. I am so unbelievably happy about having found you guys just as you started to write the actual story. I can't wait to see what you work on next (after a very well deserved break lol) whether it be more in the hels verse or whatever else. I have made so many random stories in my heads with these characters and concepts for ages now. Now please enjoy my random thoughts I've had over the last few days....

False girl what you doing. Tango I feel will not react well to Symmetry being like that.

If hels is unlocked now, are portals able to work there or is it still its own weird thing? Can people in Hels make their own worlds now? If they can do they spawn like a normal world or is it like a private hels style world? Does it depend where they are when they make the world?

I was regularly one of the people asking about BX and AI as well as PAtho and Dbubs so I have to say thank you soooo much for their pieces (I think you may have used my asks about them a few times as an easy reply to post side stories about them and I literally gasped out loud when you did). BX causally letting Altas see who/what he is was chef kisses. Papa AI wanting to hear about it all the time. Love it

Zed automatically feeling so guilty and apologizing for the lab stuff in season 8 was so sweet and sad. Man just wanted to have fun not cause trauma.

Doc and Stress dealing with their creation in such different ways. Stress not fully understanding Doc's concern. Also thinking that now those 2 will be more similar to all the new players after Alex. Also you wrote Stress so so so well.

Herobrine being Hels admin was peak!!!! The fact he went by Adam made me just think about the meme of reversing the homophobic saying by saying its not Adam and Eve but Adam and Steve. Which now makes me giggle about Herobrine wanting to fight steve. Complicated love lol.

God I keep thinking about all the potential interactions of hermits with their hels counterparts.

Also Instinct has already a spot of interest in my mind and now seeing Lunars art for him he is always on the mind lol.

HHHHHH thank u so much i was very pleased w how the conclusion came out.

as for the current state of hels: at the end of the story, the universe decided to drop the firewall around hels. this means that anyone attempting to make a hacked nether portal out of hels will no longer have to provide continuous updates to bypass the firewall (ie. they don’t have to power the portals anymore). this will speed up the process, as we saw w the double lifers making their portal.

howEVER, the reason hels players can’t make comm portals is bc their comms are hardwired to have the option disabled, and that is still applicable. any communicator that generates in hels will be unable to create portals by default, just based on how the world was designed. but once they travel to another world, that world’s admin can make them a new one (like xisuma did for tango) so they’ll be able to do that. and if they do, it’ll just be like a normal solo world! tango’s discovered this himself since being on hermitcraft.

hopefully that all makes sense 🧍‍♂️

[imaginespazzi]

OH MY GOD IF YOU COULD SEE MY JAW HIT THE FLOOR WHEN I SAW THE FIC POSTED LITERLLY DIED

ok starting my debrief the wait was so incredibly worth every single second bc that delivered so far beyond my expectations which were already high Nivi you are so unbelievably talented and I cannot wait for the next update!!!!

Paige willing to take the pay cut just to avoid her and still willing to not go until azzi encouraged her is soooo cutsie

I am in love with Steph ur absolutely completely in love her and azzi relationship is so cute and the kisses to die for like her telling Paige she needs kisses was adorable way for them to meet and her convincing Paige to come ughhhhb so chefs kiss moment

the flashback of them going to gsme and their future being planned j was shocked to say the least

the way you included Colleen and Jana was sooo good but I am no waiting in anticipation for the flashback of the big fight

one last thought the comparison of the ucla fic you choose ucla over me no I chose ucla or UConn to your choosing gsv ur not choosing me made me relive all of ur angst trauma all over again

thank you so much for this beautiful chapter mwah mwah love you Nivi!!!

💜💜

Ah bestie you're one of the people that I was really hoping would like it and so I'm really glad that you do and that I met your expectations <3

Paige is just dramatic as per usual lmao but thank god her agent is smarter than she is.

Listen I know everyone's her for Pazzi but I'm pretty sure everyone's a Stephie stan first in this universe. I love writing her with Pazzi, like it's just very self-indulgent cause them as moms heals something in me.

WAIT OMG. I didn't even think about the parallels to the UCLA fic but yeah you're so right. I'm really trying to make this as different from that one as possible cause I don't wanna make them too similar so this actually made me really happy!

Gonna selfishly ask that you do a review after every chapter (but only if you want to of course) cause I genuinely really loved hearing your thoughts my love <3

[gothsuguru]

HI HELLO IM BREAKING INTO UR INBOX W TEARS IN MY EYES…………… 😭😭 i just read all ur tags on my sugu fics and when i tell you i CRIED YOURE SOO??? so so SO sweet and thoughtful????? I HOPE YOUR DINNER WAS THE TASTIEST EVER bc ur tags made my whole weekend <333333 literally every single thing u said made me go YES YOU GET IT like… im just gonna mention a couple things phsjdhs IM REALLY SOSO GRATEFUL <333 

FIRST OFF just . everything u said abt my writing in general??? is soooo unbelievably kind??? T_T like abt the setting and prose and etc!!! i got soooo happy every time u said u felt like u were really There LIKE THAT MEANS SO MUCH…. ”it’s like i’m living inside your words” ARE U TRYING TO KILL ME </3 sob. thank u :’< 

and aaa im so glad u liked all three fics even though theyre a bit different!! 🥺🥺 i just rlly feel like u understood what i was trying to convey w certain characters and lines and stuff and it means soooo much??? SUGU IS A DEVOTED LOVERBOY YESYESYES U GET IT!!!!! U UNDERSTAND!!!! ”devoted” & ”intense” are the PERFECT words for him i cant tell u how much i agree. AND SOO NURTURING YES WE’RE SO LINKED he’s so mother he’s so husbandwife <333 IM JUST NODDING ALONG TO EVERYTHING U SAY like genuinely. food as love was the theme for that particular fic hehe im so glad u noticed!!! 

AAAA AND UR TAGS ON THE CHILDHOOD BESTIES FIC ……. thats probably my fave sugu fic out of the ones ive written ngl i was sooo happy to see that u liked it 😭😭😭 U GET IT U DO… like their love could be platonic or romantic but it doesnt rlly matter bc they just love each other sooo much. HE’S A GHIBLI BOY YES i’m so glad u see the vision <33

IM SORRY THIS GOT SO LONG i just need you to know that i see you and i love you and i appreciate you <3333 tysm for reading my silly lil fics and taking the time to write such thoughtful tags!!! 🥺🥺 im tucking them all away into my heart hehe. wishing u the most wonderful weekend ever !!!! mwah mwah mwah <33

OMG PLEASENDNDNDND your writing is literally SO stunning methinks you have the best rendition of suguru out there… like it’s so TELLING how much you love suguru (and satoru bc TRUST i’m gonna be in the tags of those fics too) and also i just really like how much personality you give to the reader as well! like everyone just is so fleshed out & 3-dimensional like they don’t feel like Just Characters In A Story they feel like real people & honestly magnificent writing to me always makes me feel like i’m watching a movie - and your writing does that! as i’m reading i’m envisioning everything like a movie & that’s the best compliment i can give fr <3 again it’s a testament to your beautiful dialogue, scene setting, storytelling, and YES PROSE!!!!! THAT’S THE WORD I WAS LOOKING FOR THE ENTIRE TIMENFNFNFNF your PROSE is beautiful 😭 it’s very COZY & PRETTY i love it

& OMG I WAS ABLE 2 UNDERSTAND BC YOU CONVEY EVERYTHING SO WELL!!!!! i was never confused i was Always In It <3 AND YES YOU SPOKE #REAL bc sugu is the ULTIMATE devoted loverboy… & i love how his intensity is just innate to him like he can’t help but love fully and with his whole entire mind, heart, body, & soul! and i also like how it isn’t an uncomfortable intensity or overbearing in a bad way - it’s just like a really nice weighted blanket and i LOVE that. & omg i’ve come to love food motifs so much………. whether it be hunger for something, cannibalism to get to the core of someone’s being, peeling clementines as an act of selflessness/love for someone else, or just sweet soft feeding your lover in bed bc you want them to eat well… that’s some delicious fucking food. & YESSSSSS nurturing caretaker sugu my beloved………. i think i read somewhere i forgot if it was just a random post here but someone said that suguru has such natural paternal instincts and that’s so real… like he’s mother he’s father he’s husbandwife he’s Transcended everything… the ultimate DadMom of the group… i just know his tote bag has bandaids, water, & snacks for everyone and he’s just the One you go to talk to about anything (again just like your sugu <3) OH AND ALSO i really like how devoted the reader is too! i Myself am a devoted lovergirl so i Feel seen

THE CHILDHOOD BESTIES FIC WAS SO FUCKING &/@/$/&//@/&:! why’d i get transported to a quaint town w the boy i’ve been in love since childhood and now he grew into a wondrous handsome man… trust that for Me if it involves sugu i’m immediately going romantic mode like i’m sorry i’m so Desperately In Love with him i can’t be normal <3 that fic is so fucking rich and filled w real problems that teens/ppl in their twenties face! the fear of the unknown but it feels like anything is possible and doable with someone like suguru by your side! AND YES HE IS SOOOOO HAKU-CODED TO ME (my first bf since i was a kid… coincidence? methinks not…) and also i reallllllllly love your fic of suguru going to reader’s apartment to declare war but he instead goes & has tea & cookies instead… i think i read that fic ages ago on ao3 and i could never find it again so it’s so Poetic Cinema that i found it here and that it was YOU and that you created so many more amazing fics… like i’m so well fed omfg & i’m super excited for anything you have coming out next!

AND OMG IT’S ABSOLUTELY MY PLEASURE! THANK YOU FOR CREATING SUCH BEAUTIFUL STORIES THAT I WILL KEEP TUCKED IN MY BRAIN & HEART <3 i will never forget you twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat… for as long as i live 🫡☝🏼 BUT FR!!!!! thank you for creating such wonderful premises for stories! i’m ecstatic to read anything you come out with next <3 mwah mwah mwah

^ me when reading your fics

[junk-whunk-punk]

Haiiii, love your art! I always look forward to the next post... it's my guilty pleasure, really 😳

Can I ask for 🐻 and 🎼 for artist ask?

lovas mwah

Uhmmm???????😳😳🥺🥺🥺

my honest reaction ↑↑↑

FUCKKKKK ITS AN UNBELIEVABLE ACHIEVEMENT FOR ME TO REALIZE MY ART IS SOMEONE'S GUILTY PLEASURE WTFFFFFFF IT MADE MY DAY COMPLETELY AND TOTALLY😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 HOW U R SO NICE AHEM???????¿!?¡????!?!?#?'?#(_($)'?MVM

(i cry it all out in chat one day cuz i dunno how to express all my scream rn sooooorrryyyyy🥹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹)

OKAY THE ASKS

🐻 Your go-to things to draw when you need comfort?

Ow I NOTICED i need comfort often nowadays but, as i have a little soothing stuff irl lmao, i comfort myself with comforting pics😌 Usually I draw soft ships to soothe myself and then i cry why they are so sweet (im weird👹)

I KNOW I NEVER DRAW RUSSINGON. BUT THIS SHIP IS SOOOO COMFY FOR ME IN ANY WAY. I LOVE THEM and i hope i'll draw some sunny pics with them CUZ THEMMMMMM🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺💗💗💗

(ama permanent silvergifter so i draw Sawwuron and Celebrimbor in a healthy ship cuz i want my fav guys be happy with each other. If not me, someone must be happy here. Yeah. That😌)

SO THE CONCLUSION: to comfort myself, my go-to things to draw are healthy and happy ships. Or a character lying in the meadow grass. Or bottlings guts blood and fire when i need my anarchism burst.

🎼 Your favorite music to draw to right now?

Aaaa exact songs?? OH YEAS CATCH MY LATEST PLAYLIST FOR PICS I'LL NEVER FINISH

Ever Fallen in Love – Pete Yorn (to draw snotty happy sunny ships)

Shoot Him Down! – Alice Francis (to draw Langon×Thuringwethil or sexual-tension-silvergifting SORRY I DUNNO)

Forevermore – Lord of the Lost (TO DRAW DARK!CELEBRIMBOR WOOF WOOF BARK BARK)

Live Like an Animal – SOFT PLAY (to draw my punkzz)

Back to Paradise – Reckless Love (to draw ship stuff)

Fallschirmjägerglück – Bundeswave (to draw Langon i dunno again)

Puhe – Ruoska (to draw Melkrrrrr)

I can continue endlessly but I just love different genres but german and finnish growling voices strike right into my heart🫦 (Ruoska my love sorry)

THANK YOU SOOOO SO SO so SO So SSO sO MUCH MA BAE💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋

[1800titz]

Hi!! so after reading the teaser thing for spanko harry i had no choice but to subscribe to ur patreon (im very happy i did😁) and just wanted to say that u have such a special gift for knitting words together and creating something so pleasing to the eyes like I’ve never read anything that’s even close to the beauty of ur writing style

Cause to me there’s nothing better than reading words that stick together like honey and English isn’t my first language but i read quite a lot in English cause i just enjoy it sm especially in romance books and fics and I’ve learned so many new words from ur stories and sometimes i have to read some of ur sentences a few times to fully understand what u mean but like in a good way cause it’s not like lazy entertainment yk it’s like a challenge to my brain as well (which i love cause sometimes it gets tiring to read similar sentences over and over again)

And it’s honestly so fascinating how ur able to describe something so simple in such a unique and fresh way and im constantly in awe of ur mind!! and also im so so excited for part 3 of spanko harry cause the tension and chemistry between them was insane like i felt like i was reading something filthy while they were just talking and i was on the edge of my seat the entire time!! and the concept is so so good im actually going feral over him and the way u were describing his hands and the fact that she was just casually binging all of his videos and he must’ve heard her when it connected to the bluetooth😵‍💫😵‍💫

and also trivia harry was SO cute like the way he just made her watch baby monkeys while he finished his shift omg i am unwell and yn’s nervous rambling was soooo adorable too but okayy this is so long but just wanted to say that i love ur brain and appreciate the dedication u put into ur stories so so much and going crazy feral insane over spanko and trivia harry literally in love w them already <33

HELLO this is so unbelievably sweet 😭 Thank you so much for taking the time to send this in (because my favorite thing ever is in-depth feedback to my silly little fics and I’m glad that so many details stuck out to you!!). And thank you so much for subscribing :’) you guys supporting me through patreon literally grants me the opportunity to create more content because I’m more financially stable and therefore have more time to work on it, and it really does mean SO MUCH, I can’t even put it into words.

AND ALSO, this is so immensely flattering! I think, genuinely, my favorite compliment to receive is regarding my writing style because I know some people can find it tedious or difficult, etc, but it’s so much fun for me to become immersed in my own writing AS I write and use loads of metaphors and stuff so this is really, really sweet. Thank you 🥹 I hope you’re enjoying what I’ve got up on patreon right now, and I hope you enjoy what I’m planning to put up in the near future 🫶

[queenofgraveyards]

hiii grace how are you bby?

good newssss im all updated on bambi!!!!!!!!!!!!! great news ive now started ataraxia!!!!!

i love them so much like it’s just so refreshing reading about their lives and everyday drama. idk if ive been on an accidental reading loop of sad books but i feel like ive been desensitized to cute simple stories yk like nothing hits anymore unless a billion of things happen at once. and this might sound weird or exaggerated but i truly think that bambi has been helping in that aspect because it’s just sooo good and normal and simple and chill and soothing fr a breath of fresh air.

and your writing omfg i swear im a hater of 1st person pov first human second but somehow my brain excludes your stories from all that hate cause, again, youre lovely af!

i also think ive read (on a comment maybe?) that you’ve got angsty plans for them and while i cant wait for the drama and jealousy and lack of communication and sad girl hours i dont think ill be able to handle a sad ending please please please let them love and be loved by each other. they deserve themselves so much!!! i

t’s currently 2am here in rio and i just finished bambi so im not entirely done with my comments but i just couldnt go to sleep without thanking you again for sharing another story with us. you do it all for free and it’s unbelievable to me how much time, effort and thought you put in for us for funsies. im not usually an assiduous commentator (?) on wattpad but im trying i swear

thank you thank you thank youuu ily g 🫀

-🥡xxxxxxx

HIIIIIII BESTIE🩵🩵

I read ur message whilst stuck in traffic n it really made me smile so thank u 🩵 im so happy you’re all caught up with bambi AND ataraxia!! i’m shocking myself with how well i’m doing with writing n updating and not burning out soooo this will have been the kiss of death heHAW

oh i get it 100% !! sometimes u get stuck in a sad loop I’m like that with my daydreams n tv shows and reading actually so I totally get it but im glad bambi are helping 🥺 it actually blows my fuckin mind that my writing would be ANYTHING but horrific and chaotic

omg ur a 1st person hater?! Could never be me bestie 😌, but also thank you for saying that bambi is ur exception 🥺 do u know how much all your kind words mean to me?! and yeah it’ll either be a comment or something on but I have ideas for angsty unhappy times bc what is a story WITHOUT the middle dramaz and hey you know I do love the drama and ivy n bambi h are just a little bit too happy rn it’s suspicious 🤨 but I can say hand on heart ataraxia will end happy!! i have no sad ending plans for this sequel and I love them as a couple sooooo much so please don’t worry 🩵

omg 2am!! GO TO SLEEP!! it’s okay that you’re not a big commenter, a lot of people aren’t and I get it, I’m not either but I demand it from my readers bc I’m a hypocrite 🩵 even if u just comment ONCE on a chapter that’s enough for me as long as you’re enjoying it and coming back for more every time I update 😌

love you lots and lots and lots 🩵🩵🩵🩵

[harrisonispunk]

Also in honor of pride month I did a little rebranding ✨

I guess it’s time for a little intro bc I never expected to use this app nearly as much as I do.

Hi, I’m Harrison, I’m 23, I like long walks on the beach… and I am a trans man. I’ve been questioning for over 6 years and this January I finally decided to start HRT. I’ve been on T for 4 months next week. Starting T solidified all of my questions and doubts that I’ve had, and I am soooo thankful for the ability to be myself. 15 year old me thought I’d still be in the closet and unhappy at this age, but I’m glad to say that didn’t pan out like I thought. This is my first pride month out of the closet, and it’s definitely a surreal feeling. I’ve pushed aside my feelings for so long that living life how I really am was never visible for me. I’m unbelievably thankful for the new friendships I’ve made specifically on here with such supportive and inclusive people 🩵

Happy pride month if it applies to you, and if it doesn’t, it probably does to someone you love.

🩵🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

[seefasters]

Regina spektor anon again (hi!!!) Getting through mash at an unbelievable pace cus ive been putting it on while i ink a 20-something page comic. Im at the end of s7. Margaret being part of hawkeye and bjs little crew is amazing. Her lightening up a bit and also getting more, like, consciously written as sad and hardened by her experiences is soo good. Also i think by s7 theyve finally (correctly) landed on the idea that she does not need to be paired off with hawk or charles or any main cast male in order to justify her presence. Thank god for that cus her Platonic Chemistry with ppl, esp hawkeye, is off the charts. Shes my favorite character i think (her and hawkeye anyhow)- shes just so compelling. Shes also getting a little more masculine sometimes. You see her in fatigues and shit like that which yknow👀. Sapphic hotlips agenda (i know what was up when that old childhood friend came to visit). Btw I love Charles. Hes awful and elitist and a chauvinist but hes definitely a far better foil than frank cus he's capable of holding his own against bj and hawk and he's not a warguy rlly. (I say this with great affection for larry linville and for frank as a character, cus he was great too!! Its just that i like charles more) and watching charles warm up very slowly is great. I tend to not be on charles's side but its very satisfying to watch hawkeye get put in his place sometimes and it also makes it a lot more satisfying to see ppl get one over on charles because its actually a challenge. Speaking of which, i loved in love and war and inga Very Much. What stellar episodes. I demand More slamming hawk into the ground about his misconceptions and fuckups (affectionate) especially regarding women. Also the show made me cry again- when hawkeye tells radar off and makes him cry, margaret's little dog monologue, and especially especially when mulcahy punches that wounded man during the xmas ep??? :,>( the shame he felt was so relatable and touching. again thanks for introducing me to this series, its such a joyful experience to get to know this piece of art and experience it. Ooh oh also, i wanted to weigh in on the Where To Start Debate. While im not a purist and i think any way a person comes to a piece of art is valid, imo the best way to do MASH is to start from the start. The sexism and racism was genuinely very disheartening, and the cornier, sitcom-ier writing does make it feel a little less essential than subsequent episodes and seasons but honestly if you're in for the longhaul it ultimately deepens the experience cus so much of subsequent MASH is invested in interrogating its past, generally thru giving margaret more of a voice and by complicating Hawkeye's role as the guy we the audience are meant to agree with and identify with. The satisfaction that comes with deepening Margarets characterization and taking her problems more seriously is partially predicated on, for example, the early shows casually dismissive attitude regarding instances wherein she was sexually assaulted or harrassed or demeaned. I hope they continue doing that. I know that that isnt an experience everyone wants, but it feels rlly cool to watch the show learn empathy and grow from its crueler, fratbro-ish perspective to something more holistically empathetic. Sorry thats soooo many words dont feel obligated to respond if its too much. I just have thoughts. Thanks.

aaaaaaa hi anon!!!!!! i love reading your thoughts dw <3

margaret's character arc is definitely one of the best things in mash. everyone say thank you to loretta swit for fighting for her character

and yes wlw margaret is so real!!! some ppl hc her as a lesbian, i personally prefer to think of her as bisexual bc her relationships with men on the show are too important to her character to consider them comphet. 2 me. all headcanons are beautiful though love is love

i'm so happy you like charles! he's definitely a more fitting antagonist for the kind of show mash became by season 6. the way his character is explored does add a lot more depth to the show (and at some point i feel you'll find yourself rooting for charles too lol. maybe! maybe not) and dont worry there will be more slamming hawkeye into the ground. maybe too much even

and i think you're right about starting mash from the pilot! part of my enjoyment of mash is about seeing how it changes, evolves and confronts its own shortcomings. for some people that might not be the case though, so i generally think if someone's not vibing with season 1's pacing or jokes but still wants to check out the show, s2 is a solid place to start. it has a soft pilot AND it's one of the best seasons of television ever like literally win win

youre always welcome in my inbox!!! i'm v jealous of you experiencing mash for the first time tbh so i'm living vicariously through you lol

[waynes-multiverse]

This chapter was soooo sweet, it rotted my teeth right down to the core 🥹🍯🍭

“Dre, help me,” you pleaded.

I don't know why, but that moment was so relatable. Poor girl 😂

You didn’t notice the way Jo’s gaze lingered on you and Dean, a frown marring her features. Though she soon moved on to another patron.

We've talked about this in the last chapter, but that is so unbelievably cruel. I really feel for Jo here. I really do 💔 As much as I love swooning over Dean, I wanna slap that man so hard here. God help me 😭

“I mean, you can walk by their table and be all coy and pretend you’re not going to buy anything, but then you walk away with half a dozen boxes of Thin Mints.”

Monica? Is that you? 😂

It made him smile. Those eyes of his considered her dress, an earthy green that brought out the hazel in her eyes, warm against her tan skin. But he lingered on her face, full lips and long, dark lashes.

Oh... Oh! I did not put that together until now that Andrea was that Andrea lol

“I’m tellin’ you, if you had your own bakery, I’d be lining up every damn day,” he said.

Oh, I hope she quits that stupid sales job and opens her own bakery by the end of this series. Since she went to culinary school, it'd be perfect! She already has a whole firehouse as a customer 😆

Instead, Dean reached into his own glass and grabbed an ice cube. After shaking off some excess water droplets, he moved the ice against the pads of your fingers, then down the fading red mark on your palm.

Oh dear effing Lord! That whole "burn & ice" bit killed me! If he had done that to me, I would've just made a sound like velociraptor and died on the spot. Holy fucking crap, that was some icy hot action! 🔥🫠

“Well, I think I’ll start at the roller disco and see where my heart takes me,” he replied.

Oh Grandpa George, you never disappoint ❤️ I probably swoon more over him than Dean in this series. Isn't that something 😂

“Ah, my wife and I met at one of those cheesy-ass places in the ‘70s,” he said.

N'awww 🥹 And I love the 70s roller rinks! I wrote a whole chapter about it in Plastic Hearts lmao (since that series is set in the 80s) 🛼🪩

And I loved the getting ready scenes with Dean and the reader and that they both mirrored each other and showed their nervousness. But I hated the fact that Dean thought he had to be someone else and change for her. That's not why she picked you, you dumbass! But also, so typical of Dean to think he wouldn't be enough... 😔

“Or here’s a thought. You could just be yourself. Order a beer and let her get whatever she wants.”

Ah Sam! The voice of reason. Thank you for this 🙏

He couldn’t remember the last time he got nervous to meet a girl…maybe because he hadn’t gone out on an actual “dinner and conversation” date in a while.

*raises eyebrow* Oh Dean... you're such a mess, God help me 🤨😂

Red was what? What the hell is a Malbec? Sounds like a kind of fish. That can’t be red wine.

His inner monologue is killing me 🤣

Although they had their initial difficulties, I'm so happy she saw how he was struggling and they ended up having such a sweet and honest date ❤️ While it was cute he tried to "impress" and "woo" her, how long could he have kept up that ruse, huh? If he wants to have a real relationship, he needs to be real and, thus, himself.

“See, women tend to like the firefighter thing, until they don’t,” he said.

Awwww, pooh bear 🥺

Loved, loved, loved this chapter! Amazing job, Zep! Can't wait to dive into the next one and see what you have in store for these two lovebirds 😍👏

Smoke Eater - Part 3

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

AN: Ready for some more ridiculous flirting? lol

🔥 Series Masterlist

Song Inspo: “Got a Hold on Me” by Christine McVie (of Fleetwood Mac) Word Count: 5,800 Tags/Warnings: Mutual pining, fluff, first encounters and first dates

Part 3: “Got a Hold on Me”

Your gaze drew a path onwards, eventually reaching the other end of the bar.

There you caught sight of red flannel over a black undershirt, familiar broad shoulders, and an even more familiar face. Your eyes widened a fraction as his met yours, gleaming with recognition…and interest.

That slow smile of his was familiar too. It made a lance of heat run down your spine. You gripped the counter, mostly to steady yourself as you let out a breath.

Lieutenant Winchester.

You couldn’t help but smile back as you met the man’s gaze across the bar.

You recognized his bearded friend, Benny, who leaned over and said something to Dean. You couldn’t hear him, of course, but maybe he was asking a question. Because Dean nodded and said something in reply before he picked up his glass of what looked like whiskey. And he smoothly got up out of his seat.

Anticipation and nerves coiled together in your lower belly. You turned to your friend, who was already sipping at her vodka cranberry.

“Dre, help me,” you pleaded.

Andréa discreetly followed the path of your gaze, and her brows raised. A smirk curved her lips.

“Oh, babe. You need to help yourself,” she replied.

“I haven’t done that in a while,” you admitted. Your dating life had been sorely lacking, between the demands of your job and taking care of things at home. “I’m gonna say something demented.”

Andréa huffed in amusement.

“So? That’s half the fun,” she said. A smile curved her lips. “I think I’m going to go play some pool.”

And with that, your friend abandoned you. She slid off her seat and patted your ass on her way over to one of the pool tables. You watched her go with narrowed eyes and pursed lips. 

“There you go, hun,” said Jo. She slid your drink in front of you. It came in a deep round glass on a stem, with a straw on the side.

“Thanks,” you replied.

You opened the straw and took a small sip to steady yourself, as you saw Dean coming out of the corner of your eye.

You even pretended not to notice the handsome man sliding into the seat next to you. His elbows rested on the counter next to yours, and you finally glanced over at him.

“Can I help you, sir?” you asked. A coquettish smile played at your lips, but you even surprised yourself with your smooth delivery. Inside, you had butterflies.

You didn’t notice the way Jo’s gaze lingered on you and Dean, a frown marring her features. Though she soon moved on to another patron.

And Dean’s attention was solely on you. He gave you a handsome smile, full of charm. You gave him expectant brows. 

“Well, we’ll see. I’ve got a question for you,” he said.

You indulged him with a nod. “Okay. What’s your question, Lieutenant?”  

“Why Girl Scout cookies?” he asked, speaking of the baked goods you’d brought by the firehouse yesterday. “I mean, we’ve gotten cakes, muffins, Krispy Kreme donuts. But I gotta say, we’ve never gotten some bakery-style Trefoils.”

Your smile brightened a bit.

“Who doesn’t like ‘em?” you asked. “I mean, you can walk by their table and be all coy and pretend you’re not going to buy anything, but then you walk away with half a dozen boxes of Thin Mints.”

Dean chuckled, and you enjoyed the way it crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“Or is that just me?” you added, and once again sipped at your drink. 

Meanwhile, Andréa felt a hot gaze on her as she set up the cue balls on the pool table. She allowed it with a subtle smile. If it was the same one she’d crossed paths with earlier when she walked in with you, then she didn’t mind.

She was, however, getting impatient.

“Mind if I join you?”

The pleasant drawl of the man’s voice licked up her spine. When she glanced over her shoulder, her smile widened a fraction. Finally.

“For a game?” she asked. She straightened, brushing a smooth wave of dark hair off her shoulder.

And she turned to meet the bearded man standing casually behind her, resting his glass on the edge of the pool table. The gray of his rolled up, buttoned-down shirt brought out the vivid blue of his eyes. But even though he was tall and broad, he didn’t seem intimidating.

“To start with,” he said. His lips quirked at a smile. “But first, I think it’d be a damn shame if I didn’t ask for your name.”

Andréa’s head tipped to one side as she considered him. She picked up the second pool stick and handed it to him.

“Are you going to ask?” she replied. Her fingers curled around her own stick as she leaned a hip against the table. 

It made him smile. Those eyes of his considered her dress, an earthy green that brought out the hazel in her eyes, warm against her tan skin. But he lingered on her face, full lips and long, dark lashes.

“What’s your name, beautiful?” he asked.

“Andréa,” she answered, and gestured to the pyramid of cue balls. “I’ll even let you go first, if I get your name.”

His smile deepened, and he leaned over beside her to line up his shot. He glanced over and found the challenge in her eyes was more than welcome.

“I’m Benny,” he said. He took the shot without looking at his target, breaking the pyramid and scattering cue balls across the table.

Back at the bar, your drink and your conversation were both bringing a pleasant buzz to your brain. You nodded along with the music when “Got a Hold on Me” by Christine McVie replaced Boston.

“You’re liftin’ me up,” she sang through the speakers. “Never let me down…and I smile whenever you’re around.”

Dean glanced at you with a small grin, shaking his head.

You couldn’t help but smile back. “What?”

“Nothin’,” he said. “I just didn’t expect to see someone like you here.”

Your brows furrowed. “Someone like me?”

He caught the look on your face, and his turned apologetic.

“Nah, I just mean…this doesn’t seem like your usual vibe,” he said.

You weren’t quite sure how to take that, but you eventually shrugged.

“To be honest, I don’t go out all that much,” you replied. “I like it here though. Good music, good drinks—”

“And good company, I hope,” Dean added in. You allowed that with a smile.

All the while, Christine kept singing.

“I’ve been down. I’ve been used. Now I know, I know, I know, I just can’t lose…”

“So did you guys like the cookies? Or did the Girl Scout thing put you off,” you teased. Dean’s lips quirked.

“Sweetheart, those delectables were gone by end of shift. I’m talking that afternoon. They were easily some of the best cookies I’ve ever tasted…I’m serious,” he said, when you became a bit bashful, and maybe disbelieving.

“I’m tellin’ you, if you had your own bakery, I’d be lining up every damn day,” he said. He then sent you a playfully suspicious look. “Matter of fact, you didn’t just buy those, did you?”

Your smiled warmed as you considered your half-empty glass. Your fingers traced the rim.

“Well, don’t laugh but…I actually went to culinary school,” you said. Dean’s brows rose high at the confession.

“Why would I laugh about that? That’s awesome!” he said. “Why didn’t you become a chef or something?”

Your gaze drifted downwards. “Well…let’s just say, life got in the way.”

His face dimmed a little at that. But you noticed, and you tried to perk up.

“So yes, sir. I baked all five dozen of those cookies with my own two hands,” you said more cheerfully. You raised waving fingers. “I’ve got the burns to prove it.”

You’d actually made a rookie move, trying to move one of the trays before it had sufficiently cooled down. It was bad enough that you had to apply some aloe last night.

Dean made a show of furrowing his brows, with playful concern.    

“Let me see,” he said. He straightened in his seat, acting more “Lieutenant Winchester” as he took your hands and examined your palms and fingers. You blushed, and you bit your lip against a smile as his larger hands handled yours with care.

He did notice the redness on your fingertips, and part of your right palm. He glanced up at you.

“Do they hurt?” he asked.

You blinked at the genuine note in his question.

“Oh, not really,” you said. But you smiled at the fractional raise of his brows. “Well, maybe they still sting a bit, but it’s nothing. I had worse in school, believe me.”

Dean hummed as he considered your hands. Your face heated up further as you tried to get a read on what he was thinking. Was he about to do the cheesy thing and kiss it better? (Though you probably wouldn’t mind, even if he did.)

Instead, Dean reached into his own glass and grabbed an ice cube. After shaking off some excess water droplets, he moved the ice against the pads of your fingers, then down the fading red mark on your palm.

“That feel better?” he asked.

If possible, your blush intensified as your insides warmed and melted like hot butter. It was a sweet, and seemingly earnest gesture that plucked at your heartstrings.

And that was how Dean Winchester got your number before “Got a Hold on Me” ended.

Andréa was still chatting away at the bar with Benny by the time you decided to call it a night. She understood why you wanted to get home, to check on your grandfather.

You saw a bit of disappointment in Dean’s eyes when you said you needed to go, but he graciously offered to walk you to your car. It was pretty late, after all, and you had more than one reason to agree as he stepped out with you into the night.

You didn’t know if it was the evening chill, or his presence burning beside you that made a small shiver run through you. But once the two of you reached your car, you hesitated and looked up at Dean. You realized that you were reluctant to end this, whatever it was.

He quirked a smile down at you and tucked a wily strand of hair behind your ear.

“It was good to see you,” he said.

“Likewise, Lieutenant,” you replied, with a teasing gleam in your eyes. His were drawn to your face, lowering to your lips.

“Can I see you again?” he asked.

Again, your face warmed. “I think I’d be okay with that.”

His smile grew with his huff of amusement.

“Okay, how about I pick you up tomorrow night?” he offered. “That’s, uh…if you don’t got any plans.”

Your heart was hammering in your chest. Play it cool, for the love of God. Just say yes.

You didn’t usually agree to let a man pick you up on the first date, but something about Dean felt intrinsically trustworthy. Maybe it was the fact that he’d already saved you once this week.

“Sure,” you agreed, sounding more casual than you felt. “What did you have in mind?”

Dean considered that with a thoughtful look.

“Tell you what, let me take you to dinner. Somewhere nice,” he said. His hand raised to thumb at your warm cheek. He couldn’t see your blush, but you were sure he could feel it.

“I like dinner,” you admitted. Though you immediately wanted to slap yourself. Idiot!

Dean just laughed, and your blush turned to one of embarrassment.

“All right. Something we can agree on,” he said in amusement. “I’ll see you tomorrow then. Get home safe, okay, sweetheart?”

You nodded, though you paused, looking up at the indecision on his face. His gaze roamed your face, once again falling to your lips. Nervousness trilled down your spine, though you didn’t know why.

Maybe you were just a coward, but you didn’t wait for him to decide. You just gave him one last smile before you turned from him, unlocking your car with a press of a button on your keys.

“Well, goodnight,” you told him. “See you tomorrow.”

He nodded, stepping back from you. “See you soon.”

Well, it was tomorrow. And you were trying not to freak the hell out.

“That’s it,” Andréa said. “That’s the one.”

You had her on FaceTime, with your phone propped up on your dresser as you raided your closet.

Your hair was pinned up, your makeup done, and now, she’d helped you find the right outfit—a dress in vibrant emerald green that hugged your curves and fell to about mid-thigh. You smoothed out the straps and twisted to see yourself in the mirror.

“Why’re you frowning. This is perfect!” Andréa said.

“I just…” You sighed, once again trying to tug up the neckline. It was a bit lower than you preferred, but if you remembered right, your friend had encouraged this purchase a while back.

“It isn’t too much, is it?” you asked.

“Not for a first date with a smokin’ hot firefighter, mind the pun,” Andréa teased. “You’re a knockout, babe. He won’t be able to pick up his tongue off the floor…but I’m sure you can find a place for him to put it.”

You spluttered laughing, even after you made a scandalized sound. “You’re ridiculous.”

Still, you knew you could always count on Andréa to hype you up. You appreciated that about her; she was confident without being petty or prideful. And while she never begrudged you for your more cautious approach to things, she did try to get you out of your comfortable shell when you needed it. This, apparently, was one of those times.

You chose a pair of black suede heels Dean hadn’t seen before, along with a few spritzes of perfume in strategic locations on your body.

“Okay, Dean’s supposed to get here at 8:00. Until then, regale me with more about your night with Captain Benjamin Lafitte,” you said, drawing out each word of the man’s name with a suggestive flourish.

Andréa gave a dreamy sigh. She smiled as she sat back against her headboard in bed.

“He was just so…” she trailed, like she was sorting through a collection of memories, savoring each one, all while trying to find a way to distill it all into a simple sentence. She had an artist’s mind, and so tended to romanticize. But you enjoyed the way she spun her stories.

“Earthy, and real, while still being charming,” she said. “I’m pretty sure he let me win the pool game. Which ordinarily would annoy the shit out of me, but when he offered to buy me another drink, I couldn’t say no, and…we talked until the bar closed.”

“Wow.” Your eyes widened as you made the finishing touches on your clipped up hair.

“Right? I’ve never had an experience like that with a perfect stranger,” she said. “I think…I think it was like, one of those connections you hear about, see on TV but never think it happens in real life. I’ll tell you, when we walked into the bar, his eyes were the first thing I saw. And they were the last thing I remember from that night, after he kissed me goodnight…well, more like made out against my car, but you get the idea.”

She smiled as her face became lost in thought. Meanwhile, you tried not to be envious that she’d had more courage than you.

“Are you going to see him again soon?” you asked. Andréa seemed to come back down to Earth at the question, meeting your gaze.

“I think so,” she said. “We’re trying to plan something for next week. He’s also a construction contractor.”

You nodded. “Yeah, Dean was telling me that a lot of them have part-time jobs when they’re not on shift.”

“Does he do anything on the side?” she asked.

“If I remember right, he said he fixes cars sometimes, but I’m not sure if he’s a certified mechanic,” you replied.

“Well, maybe he can spruce up your old-ass Toyota Camry. How long have you had that thing?” she asked.  

You scoffed. “Since college. And it was old then, since I got it used…I think I’ve racked up about 200,000 miles on it.”

Andréa grimaced. “Oh God. You really need a new car, before that thing breaks down on you.”

“That’s what I keep tellin’ her,” said Grandpa George. He appeared in the doorway with a mug of tea. He waved at Andréa on your phone screen. “Hey there, sweetheart.”

“Hey, George. What’re your plans this evening? Go-karting or roller blading?” she teased with a grin.

George matched it with a hearty laugh. Andréa was his favorite.

“Well, I think I’ll start at the roller disco and see where my heart takes me,” he replied. Though he had fond stars in his eyes, and you smiled, knowing what memory he was about to recall.

“Ah, my wife and I met at one of those cheesy-ass places in the ‘70s,” he said. “She was a regular there, had the knee-high socks, the shiny skirt, her long hair whipping around like a rope… I remember she skated past me and knocked me clean onto my ass. I watched her skate away, that little skirt swishing. I think I was half in love right there.”

Your heart twinged, both for yourself and for him, as you could see the sting of melancholy in his eyes. Your grandmother had passed away a few years ago, but it was still deeply painful for both of you.

George shook his head, as if clearing the ghosts of memory from his mind. He looked over at you with a fond smile.

“Well, don’t you look beautiful?” he said. And he reached out for your hand, playfully raising it above your head and twirling you around as you smiled. “Reminds me of when your grandma helped you get ready for the senior prom.”

You snorted at that. “You mean when she almost glued my eyes shut, trying to get those fake lashes on?”

You’d rather pluck out your own eyes than have to ever again go through the “de-gluing process,” as she’d called it.

“It’s a shame we don’t have any pictures of you that night,” George considered. A knowing smile crossed his face. “You looked adorable.”

“I looked like I had a wonky eye,” you retorted. “Why do you think I burned all the evidence?”

Andréa tried not to, but she chortled at your expense. You shot her a narrowed look.

“Careful,” she teased. “Don’t strain yourself, Wonky. You’ve got a better night than prom ahead of you.”

“Speaking of, when’s that boy supposed to pick you up?” George asked.

You let out a breath, slightly nervous as you checked the time on your phone.

“In about ten minutes.”

“Okay, for the third time,” Sam said, trying his best to be patient. He sat on Dean’s bed while the man stood in front of the bathroom mirror. He was debating the age-old question: tie, or no tie?

“Red wine goes with red meat. White wine goes with chicken and fish,” Sam reminded him. “If you get red, you want to order a bottle of merlot. It’s full bodied without being dry as hell.”

“Yeah, merlot with meat. Got it,” Dean nodded. “What’s white again?”

“Everything else,” Sam said, once again. “If you order white, I’d say go with a pinot grigio. It’s light, can be dry or can be fruity. It all depends on personal preference, but I really like—”

“Well, I’m probably getting steak, so no to pinot,” Dean said. He finally decided on no tie, just a black suit jacket over the dark blue shirt, with a couple of buttons left open at the top.

Sam sighed and gestured at his brother. “And what if she wants fish? What if she hates red wine?”

Dean frowned. “Right. Okay. Pinot or merlot, got it.”

“Always ask to try it first,” Sam added. “Or here’s a thought. You could just be yourself. Order a beer and let her get whatever she wants.”

His frown deepening, Dean shook his head and left his bathroom. He crossed his bedroom to find his shoes—the nice black ones he only wore for weddings and funerals.

“Nah. This girl’s classy, Sam. Can’t half-ass this,” he said. A bit of unease coiled in his stomach, but he tried his best to ignore it.

He couldn’t remember the last time he got nervous to meet a girl…maybe because he hadn’t gone out on an actual “dinner and conversation” date in a while.

Or at least, he didn’t think he could count his dates as real ones.

“You’ll be fine,” Sam said. He could see plainly what his brother didn’t want to admit, only because they knew each other so well.

Dean glanced over at Sam and flickered at a smile. He grabbed his keys, his wallet, and didn’t think he was missing anything…

“Dean,” Sam said. He nodded over at the bundle on the dresser. Dean reached for it and shot his brother a wink.

“Hold the fort, Sammy.”

His car rumbled to a stop in front of your house just a few minutes late. Dean took a moment to admire the nice-looking beige house with its dark trim, old but still in good condition. And he wondered if you had roommates, or if you lived alone. Maybe you even owned this place. 

He wasn’t sure, as he could only see one car in the driveway (your car, he recognized). He knew he’d need about two or three other roommates to be able to afford this two-story house. 

He straightened his collar and blew out a breath. Get it together, asshole. You’re going on a date, not running into a burning building.

Funny, he’d probably be less nervous with the latter.

You’re not nervous, he reminded himself. You like her, that’s all…yeah.

Rolling his eyes at himself, Dean turned off the car and grabbed his key out of the ignition on his way out. He walked up the red brick path up to the porch and knocked on your door.

His pulse picked up a bit when he heard a pair of heels approaching the door. Soon enough, it opened, and Dean was greeted with a sight. Namely your face, and a smile spreading across it.

Beautiful, he couldn’t help but think, as his gaze dipped to take in the rest of you. He liked the color of your pretty green dress, the soft and classy makeup, the goddamn sexy heels, and the way your hair was pinned up. (Even though it looked so soft, he wanted to see it loose.)

He liked it all, especially that you seemed happy to see him.

“Hey there,” you said, a little breathy, like you’d been hastening down the stairs.

Dean gave you a smile, along with the small bouquet of flowers he’d been hiding behind his back.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said. His smile deepened when you uttered a gasp at the modest bundle of red tulips. “Feel like I should’a gone with something more impressive to match you. You look beautiful.”

You glanced up at him with a sweet smile, but you took the flowers and shook your head.

“No, these are gorgeous. I…can’t remember the last time someone gave me flowers,” you admitted.

It was a bit old-fashioned, but one of Dean’s earliest memories as a kid was seeing his dad come home, late from work as he so often was. But he’d stopped along the way at his mom’s favorite flower shop. He brought her red tulips rather than red roses.

Dean didn’t know why. Maybe that was her favorite flower, or maybe the roses were all out. In his memory though, his mom’s upset faded whenever she saw those flowers.    

“Thank you,” you said warmly, taking Dean out of his thoughts. He flashed you a smile touched with slight embarrassment. He drew a hand through his short hair at the back of his head.

“Well, uh, are you ready?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yep! Just need to grab my purse and put these in some water.”

You welcomed him inside the house while he waited for you to find a vase. Dean took the opportunity to look around from where he stood in the hall. It looked big on the outside, but inside, it looked like a cozy family home. He took in the wood furniture, a paisley couch in the living room, family pictures on the wall and in a China cabinet rather than actual fine China.

It didn’t exactly scream high-powered saleswoman, but maybe you’d inherited it from your family. Or you were going to have it fixed up before you sold it, like some Property Brothers-type action. Or he was reading too much into it entirely, and should just focus on the fact that you’d agreed to go out with him to begin with.

Dean perked up when you returned with your purse on your shoulder and the tulips in a vase, which you set down on the living room coffee table for now. You greeted him again with smile.

“I’ll find a better place for those later, just didn’t want to keep you waiting,” you said.

“You’re good,” he said. He offered you his hand, along with a grin. “I hope you’re hungry though. I know how much you like dinner.”

You giggled, ducking your head in embarrassment. You followed him out the front door.

“If we can forget about that tipsy foot-in-mouth moment, that’d be great,” you said. Dean shook his head.

“Sorry, my mind’s like a steel trap,” he teased, even as he led you down the few steps of your porch in your heels.

“Oh, really?” Your brow raised. “Okay, I’ll remember you said that.”

Dean smirked. “Uh oh. Why do I feel like that one’s gonna bite me in the ass someday?”

“We’ll see,” you replied in amusement. “Future dinners might be on the line here.”

Your eyes widened when you finally saw his car parked behind yours in the driveway. Big and black and sleek and Chevrolet.

“Wow. That’s your car?”

Dean shot you a grin that was somehow proud without being smug.

“You like her?” he asked. He unlocked the car and even opened the passenger side door for you.

Wow again. A rare gentleman. You smiled and obliged him by climbing in.

“I think I do,” you said. Dean got in on his side after closing your door. The doors creaked and the engine rumbled when he turned the ignition. He looked over at you in a way that made your insides both flutter and melt. Anticipation and warmth.

“Think she likes you too,” he said.

Shit, what did Sam say? Dean stared down the wine menu, which may as well have been a Chinese grocery list, for all he knew.

Red was what? What the hell is a Malbec? Sounds like a kind of fish. That can’t be red wine.

He discreetly raised his gaze above the menu. You were sitting there, pretty much perfect while you looked over the appetizer menu. This was an Italian restaurant. A nice one, and a cut above Dean’s usual dining spots. Neither of you had eaten here before, but you looked vastly more comfortable than he felt. 

“What sounds better to you, clams or bruschetta?” you asked. Your eyes flicked up to his thoughtfully. “You don’t strike me as a clammy kinda guy.”

A smile tugged at his lips. There was a “clam” joke in there somewhere, but he wasn’t sure you’d appreciate it.

“Bruschetta is the toast with little tomatoes, right?” he asked.

“Yep,” you nodded, but then your head tilted as you looked down at the menu again. “Or we could do meatballs. Comes with two—a ball each.”

You bit your lip over a smile, tinged with embarrassment, like you didn't realize what you were saying until you said it.

Dean smirked. Maybe your sense of humor was more in line with his than he expected.

“Well, I don’t typically go for balls, meaty or otherwise. But whatever you want, sweetheart,” he teased. Truth be told, he loved Italian meatballs, but right now, he liked your snort of amusement even more.   

By the time the server, Liam, came to the table, you seemed to know what you wanted, while Dean was still looking over the wine list like it was Calculus homework. 

“Would you like something to drink?” Liam asked.

Dean paused, unsure of how to respond. He glanced at you on reflex. You were waiting for him to say something, he knew. He just wasn’t sure what he could say that didn’t make him look like an idiot.

“I’ll have a glass of this Cabernet Sauvignon,” you replied to the server, and pointed out the name of the wine on the list. He nodded and wrote that down, then turned to Dean next.

“And for you, sir?” Liam asked.

Again, Dean had a conundrum.

He decided to play it safe. “I’ll have the same.”

You eyed him a moment, before you turned back to Liam.

“Can we try it first? See if we like it,” you said.

“Certainly,” he nodded. “Do you want to start with an appetizer?”

“Yes. The meatballs, please,” you replied, glancing at Dean with secret amusement. His lips hinted at a smirk.

When the server left to put in the order, you rested your elbows on the table and folded your hands under your chin.

“Something tells me you’re not big on wine,” you said.

Dean’s smile became more self-deprecating as he tapped a finger on the table.

“That obvious, huh? …Well, can’t say I didn’t try.”

“Dean Winchester.” Your head tilted as you considered him. “Are you trying to impress me?”

“Trying, maybe. Doubt I’m succeeding,” he admitted with a short laugh.

You let out a small sigh, but you didn’t look disappointed.

“I just want to get to know you,” you said. “You don’t have to woo me or anything.”

His brow rose in a subtle challenge. “What if you deserve a bit of wooing?”

You glanced down then, with a pretty blush beginning to dust your cheeks. He could still spot it in the dim lamplight, and it made him smile.

“I get what you’re saying,” he inclined his head. “I just have a feeling the guys you go out with know how to order a bottle of wine, at least.”

You met his gaze at that. Your brows drew together, and it wasn’t until that that you realized what Dean seemed to be thinking. Like you were somehow better than him, or out of his league. While that was incredibly flattering (and downright surprising), it just wasn’t true, you felt.

You’d been nervous as hell up until this point, convinced that this man’s interest was half because he’d saved you. Because really, between the cut of that jaw, that smile, and those eyes, he could have anyone. And yet, he’d noticed you.

So now, you gained enough courage to reach across the table and rest your hand over his. It earned his attention.

“Look, Dean,” you said. “You don’t know anything about the kind of guys I go out with, so why don’t you just try to get to know me, instead of being whatever you think I want?”

There was a challenge in your eyes, but your smile softened it, along with your hand in his. Dean curled his fingers around your hand, and he nodded.

“That’s fair,” he said. His thumb drew across the back of your hand as he considered what you’d said. He realized he wasn’t being fair…

“See, women tend to like the firefighter thing, until they don’t,” he said. 

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“Well, after a little while, it’s like the shine wears off,” Dean admitted. “Between the long, sometimes inconsistent hours, the weight of the job… It’s either too much, or not enough, you know?”

As much as that disheartened you to hear, you kind of understood what he was saying. First responders led challenging lives, and you could imagine how hard it would be to maintain relationships—from family and friends to lovers. And when he met your eyes, you had a feeling you knew what he was really saying underneath.

It’s not enough…or he’s not enough?

You frowned and squeezed his hand.

“That must make it hard to find a real connection with someone,” you said.

Dean read the look in your eyes: sympathetic, but not pitying. He appreciated that, and you right now. But he was also getting a bit embarrassed. Good job, Mr. Overshare.

He let go of your hand just to lean back in his seat and card his fingers through his hair. He blew out a breath.

“Sorry. Don’t know why I’m saying all this crap,” he said with a chuckle.

You smiled and crossed your arms on the table. “It’s not crap.”

He gave you a wry smile.

This Dean is not what I expected, you thought. He was all panty-dropping smiles and one-liners, until he wasn’t. Behold, the softie underneath.

Liam soon returned with two glasses with a sample of the wine you’d requested. Dean took his glass, but waited a moment to watch you bring yours up to your face. You inhaled first before you took an experimental sip. You smiled and hummed at the taste. It led Dean to sip his as well.

He immediately made a face at the bitter, strong taste that razed across his tastebuds. He was used to the burn of alcohol, but this was just gross.

That’s when he caught that look on your face—a small smile as you gauged his reaction.

“Refreshing,” Dean quipped. And dry as hell.

“You want a beer instead?” you asked.

“Definitely,” Dean nodded, looking up at Liam. “Heineken, if you please.”

“That I can do.” The other man quirked a smile. “And for you, miss?”

You tapped on the rim of your wine glass. “A glass of this please. Thank you.”

“Absolutely,” Liam replied. “I’ll bring those shortly.”

Dean watched you with a smile. You caught him at it and smiled back questioningly.

“What?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Nothin’.”

He liked the way you carried yourself. Smart and classy, without being a snob. Confident and sexy at times, while shy and freakin’ adorable at others…

Damn, Dean thought. He liked you. He did.

And he didn’t want to admit it, but that kind of scared him.

AN: Hohoo, so believe it or not, this is just part 1 of the first date! The rest is to come in the next chapter. But how did you like this so far?

Next Time:

You watched him curiously as he shrugged out of his jacket. He wrapped it around your shoulders, like this was some kind of Hallmark moment.

Heh. Can’t believe Meg had it right, he thought, as he caught your blush.

“Thanks,” you said softly.

“Can’t let you catch cold in this little dress,” Dean reasoned.

He gently tugged you in closer by the ends of his jacket. Once again, his gaze was drawn to your face, your eyes, and finally your lips. You still held both ice cream cones between you two, but he could be careful enough to sample something else.

He started to lean in…

Keep Reading: PART 4

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

[fanby-fckry]

Voxblr must’ve been going off the day Fizzarozzie went canon. The RPF girlies would’ve gone wild.

Source: voxblr.vox #unreality cw #meta post #hellaverse #hazbin hotel #helluva boss

( 6 notes )

🐸 jest-fizzarolli Follow

Feb 14, 2014

Mammon’s got a new brand deal in the works for me. can’t say much about it yet, but I’m heading to Lust today to work out some kinks.

🐸 jest-fizzarolli Follow

Feb 14, 2014

fuck why did no one tell me Asmodeus was so hot?

🐸 jest-fizzarolli Follow

Feb 14, 2014

ok, you know what, that’s fair.

🐸 jest-fizzarolli Follow

Feb 15, 2014

he’s actually… really sweet, too.

🐸 jest-fizzarolli Follow

2 min. ago

update: we’re dating now

#you guys have no idea how long I’ve waited to say that #as scared as I was to go public #it’s a relief to finally stop hiding ↯ #fizzarozzie #my posts

( 110,0788 notes )

🌕 m00nlight_h0wling 🌗 Follow

20 min. ago

can’t believe @.queen-bee-lzebub made me read the word “clussy” with my own two eyeballs.

🐝 queen-bee-lzebub Follow

18 min. ago

Aww, babe forgive me? 🥺

🌕 m00nlight-h0wling 🌗 Follow

18 min. ago

no <3

🐝 queen-bee-lzebub Follow

15 min. ago

Clussy clussy clussy clussy clussy clussy clussy clussy clussy clussy clussy clussy

🐺 666--vortex Follow

14 min. ago

#bee stop instigating #and loon let bee post what she wants #ists y’all fight too much

( 264 notes )

🐝 queen-bee-lzebub Follow

29 min. ago

"average imp fucks a Sin 3 times a year" factoid actualy just statistical error. average imp fucks 0 Sins per year. Fizzarolli Georg, who lives in Lust Ring & fucks Asmodeus over 10,000 times each day, is an outlier adn should not have been counted

Source: voxblr.vox ↯ #fizzarozzie #it’s about fuckin time #get that clussy ozz!!! #fr tho #happy for u 2 💛 #👑🐝

( 757,491 notes )

🌈 hells-disney-princess Follow

47 min. ago

Soooo @.ozzie-king-of-lust @.jest-fizzarolli

When’s the wedding?

#love wins ↯ #fizzarozzie #love you uncle ozzie!! #and you too uncle fizz!! #❤️🧡💛💚💙💜 #🥹🥰💖 #🌈 posts

( 59 notes )

🪡 niffty-lady 📠 Follow

Feb 20, 2014

I can’t be the only demon shipping Fizzarolli and Asmodeus, can I? They’d be so cute together!!!

I’m thinking Fizzmodeus for the ship name. Or maybe Fizzarozzie? Oh that sounds muuuch better actually.

🪡 niffty-lady 📠 Follow

Apr 21, 2014

Confession time: I have a contact that helps me get tabloids from Lust into Pride.

I shipped Fizzarozzie wayyy before the tabloids started reporting on them but it’s good inspo

🪡 niffty-lady 📠 Follow

Nov 1, 2019

Ok, I know some of you are gonna think I’m crazy, but I think Fizzarozzie is ACTUALLY canon???

🪡 niffty-lady 📠 Follow

50 min. ago

SQUEEEEEEEEE!!!! I knew it!!!!!!

🪡 niffty-lady 📠 Follow

50 min. ago

I told you! Didn’t I tell you?

↯ #fizzarozzie #it’s CANON!!! #I am going to write SO! MUCH! FANFICTION! #new otp unlocked!!!

( 110 notes )

🐸 jest-fizzarolli Follow

1 hr. ago

quiet quitting is cool and all… but I’m about to go out with a bang! 💥😈🎶

↯ #mammon’s clown pageant #jester’s privilege #my posts

( 147,173 notes )

👓 creepz0 Follow

2 hr. ago

UNBELIEVABLE

Fuckzzarolli is such an ungrateful clown. Doesnt care about his fans AT ALL. Hes not funny anyway.

#anti-fizzarolli #fizzi critical ↯ #fizzarolli

( 0 notes )

👯‍♀️ glitz-n-glam Follow

2 hr. ago

Got this one in the bag! Fizza-rotty doesn’t stand a chance. 😈😈

↯ #mammon’s clown pageant #klown bitch #glitz n glam #klown posting

( 5,820 notes )

💥 blitz-the-o-is-silent Follow

3 hr. ago

fuck the h8rs fizz u got this

↯ #mammon’s clown pageant ↯ #fizzarolli

( 4 notes )

📺 voxblr4k ☑️ ☑️ ☑️ Follow

8 hr. ago

Thanks to a Deal with @.million-dollar-mammon Mammon’s Clown Pageant will be coming to Pride for the first time since 2010!

Tune in to watch live on VoxTV at 8:00 pm or stream it on Voxflix.

#and remember #if you fuckers pirate this #it’s not just my wrath you’ll be facing for breaking tos ↯ #mammon’s clown pageant #VoxTV #Voxflix #VoxTek

( 49,711 notes )

⬜️ voxblrverse-meta Follow

9 hr. ago

Fanby’s Fake Dash Masterpost

[indigo474]

May 25th 2023- a little bit better than i use to be-

so much so much so much- i really should write more. i read a news story today about kids being neglected and abused. why are people so horrible? those poor babies- it makes me sad. exactly why i don't watch the news. i had someone in work tell me "they " are shooting people on 95. Really? I had no idea. she looked at me in disgust and said you really need to be more informed. I don't need to hear and read about what a fucked up world we live in to know what a fucked up world we live in. Being informed makes me sad and scared- 2 things i am trying desperately not to be. Work is going good. it's so much nicer going to work as the boss-so much better. My boss- the Ice Queen, likes me. I can tell and i am grateful. We are going out shopping together for the company picnic. I'm in charge. HA. People dislike me for doing my job. A lot of people are incapable of taking responsibility for their actions. they blame me for doing MY job- the truth is- if they did their job- i wouldn't have to do mine. the Ice Queen is MOODY- I'm not sure if she is still drinking- she tends to hide in her office.

I should be getting my check-any day now. i asked MAds if she would mind moving out of our town. she's open to it-as long as we are safe and happy. i don't want to leave this town.. but i have to do what is best for me and if i cant find a place to live-- BUT i keep telling myself that SOMETHING wonderful is going to happen and the PERFECT place will be mine- i have to believe it. whats that saying- whats meant for me is mine- whats meant for me won't pass me by-

James went hard on me tonight. My knee pain is gone- i started taking a supplement- i use to take it and stopped and just started again and it works. i finally mentioned to james that during my cycle its harder to lift. Because it is- there is a huge difference. it wasnt weird to him. yeah its true- but we cant use that as an excuse- his words. tonight he upped everything-benched 105. i'm going to be sore tomorrow, i only squatted 175 this week. i need to get my ass into the gym and do my workout over the weekend. James shared a lot about himself tonight. he paid off his student loans, is getting a new car- not sure what kind- skipped a vacation with his buddies to Puerto rico because he lost 1200 on a bet- he even got out the dry erase marker and drew me pictures so i could understand what he was talking about. UFC and basketball- from what he said, and drew - it was just unbelievable how he lost the bets and he thinks its the universe telling him he shouldn't bet. he said it made him sick. he's a good person. i can tell. Kika was tired tonight- she didnt even bark when i walked up. she's such a good girl. we played a little.

my friend in work-the one who i think is on drugs and never talks about her husband. she told me her husband is dumb and useless. she's always saying she would be fine if she only had some xanax. dont say it dont say it. for months he same thing- i would be fine if i had xanax- dont fucking say it. if i had xanax i would be fine---- i know a dr. she use to see him, she called that afternoon and got herself an appointment. today she comes in and is talking so fast- too fast. i use the term friend loosely. this should be interesting- maybe she's right- maybe all she needs is xanax.

i spent all day last saturday watching porn and masturbating. i got myself a new vibrator - its dam near perfect. quiet -

im sure there is soooo much more to write about. i am tired. got my friday shift changed for the summer-every other friday im workiing 9-6. this will work out good- i can still run after work. the ice queen likes me-thank God- the right people like me-its more important i like myself-

[atinydise]

A mini me

❦ Genre: Fluff.

❦ Pairing: Yunho.

❦ Word count: 1K.

❦ Requested: Yep! Thank you 🦋

You woke up once again when you heard the thunder outside. You are not really scared of it, but not very comfortable either. As usual, you turned around so you could hug your fiancé and find some sleep again. But an empty space embraced you instead. “Yunho?” You called him quietly. You sat on the bed and tried to discern any light from the bathroom. Nothing. Since your little girl was born, you needed to be sure that everyone was okay and all the time. Not only your little Sasha but Yunho and your dog as well. You got out of the bed and stepped quietly into the next room, Sasha’s one. Before you could enter, you stopped at the door frame and stared at the scene in front of you. Thanks to the weak orange light, you saw your daughter well awake, with an empty baby bottle, and a ton of plushies next to her. Your fiancé was with her in the crib, visibly in an uncomfortable position because of his tall legs, but he seemed to not care at all. You laid down against the door frame, smiling at this meaningful moment. “Only 6 months and look how strong you are, my angel.” He tickled her neck, making her giggle cutely. “Are you going to be strong as your daddy or a scared baby as your mommy?” He smiled, amazed by anything this little human does. You raised a brow, for sure you wouldn’t let him go with this. For a short moment, you could only hear babbling from Sasha, while Yunho was looking at her in awe. You saw in his eyes how much love he has for her. He has the same light when he looks at you or when he was looking at your belly when you were pregnant. 9 months was for sure, long, but it was worth it. You were remembering your pregnant moment when a sniffling made you focus back on the scene.

“Ah damn…” laughed Yunho awkwardly, wiping his eyes. You almost interrupted their moment when you saw him crying. “You make daddy cry, my angel.” He smiled. Sasha seemed to understand because her head tilted to the right, wondering if adults could make these mini bubbles of water too. “Why are you looking at me like this?” He laughed. “Do you think I cry like you because I’m hungry?” He was definitely talking alone, no way she could understand what he was saying at this age. “I’m just crying with happiness.” He admitted. “You know. My mom, so your grandmother, told me that I would feel different when I will become a dad. She was right. Like always.” He paused. “But don’t tell her I said this.” This man is unbelievable, you thought. “But I have this indescribable love for you. It’s so strong, that it hurts!” Intentionally or not, Sasha kicked her father’s chin. “Yeah, it hurts like this kinda.” He rubbed his chin. You were doing your best to not laugh at them. “But I can handle everything from you.” He kissed her chubby cheeks. Your daughter was loving this private moment with her dad. You were wondering if it was the first time Yunho was sneaking at night to spend the night with her. You were jealous in a way. “Let’s give an easy life to your mom, okay?” He whispered, loud enough for you to hear it. Your heart clenched in your chest. “She gave us 2 wonderful gifts.” He started. “She gave your life and she gave me to the most, wonderful, beautiful, and kind little girl ever.” His voice cracked. It would be a lie if you say that you were not at the edge of crying. “Let’s be nice and treat her with love. Okay?” Sasha let out a scream of excitement, shaking her little arms on the bed. “Shhh.” He giggled. “Mom is sleeping.” If he knew, you thought. Yunho stared at his watch around his wrist. “3 AM?! You should be sleeping already, young lady!” Sasha tilted her head again. “Yes sleeping. When you close your eyes and ‘rompish rompish’.” He imitated her cute snoring. “Dad sleeps soooo much too. You are clearly a mini-me.” Oh yeah, the amount of time you saw them sleeping on the couch, mouth open. Even your wallpaper is Sasha laying on her father's chest, both of them in the same position. You were surprised when Yunho started to sing “One Day At Time” to her. Sasha seemed to like it because you were staring at her dad with her big and cute eyes. Well before the 2nd chorus, she blinked a few times. That’s the sign that she’s falling asleep. Yunho lowed his tone, not trying to ruin his effort. He was rubbing her belly, making a double effect on her. When her little shivering confirmed that she was asleep, he remained quiet. You waited a minute before disturbing their little moment. Quietly, you walked next to the crib. Your fiancé was possibly thinking about sleeping here the entire night because he was falling asleep as well. “Babe.” You called him. His first instinct was to put his arm around Sasha, without touching her just in case it would ruin her sleep. “You scared me.” “Come on, that’s our baby. Not only yours.” You smiled, rubbing her tiny cheek. “Isn’t she the cutest?” He admired Sasha once again. “She’s perfect.” You replied. “You can’t even understand how grateful I am to have both of you in my life… I feel like I’m going to explode with happiness.” He grabbed your hand. “Really? Even if I’m a scared baby?” He raised a brow. “Since when were you here?” “Enough longer to hear this.” You pinched his palm. “Oops.” In a serious tone, you asked. “You are not going to sleep? I mean in our bed.” “I should huh?” “Yeah. Especially for your legs. You are too tall for that.” “I know. But I just can’t help it. I don’t want to miss any seconds away from her.” He stared at Sasha, lovely and emotionally at the same time. “Can you imagine that she won’t be in this crib for that long?” You nodded. “In a few years, she will get her mini bed. Then a bigger one. Then a larger and bigger one. And finally, one in her own house.” He sighed. “Yunho,” you giggled. “You are being so dramatic. Let her grow first then after you can worry. But right now, she’s still a baby and she would need her daddy for a long time.” “You right.” “Then go sleep in our comfy bed now.” Yunho sighed and tried to exit the crib quietly, without shaking it too much. When he walked next to you, he stopped. “You are not coming?” “I said you need to go, not me.” You smiled before taking his place in the crib. “Hey!” You smirked to your fiancé, “you leave it, you lose it.”