#MMMMMM DELICOUS

[laulo821]

Here, have some rohlíky!

(honestly I think they're kinda average lol - but if they're wholemeal!! that's another thing, much much better imo)

thamk you

very g ood. yu m

#i hath put th em all in m y mout h #in lov e with bread #nomnomnomnomnom #mmmmmm #much delic ious.... very wh olemeal..... #bread.... yess sssssss #mmmmmm .... #now to be more braincelled. #it looks like it's pretty soft/limp which is not my favourite kind of bread at all #but i think it could be very good as hotdog bread or yknow long sandwich bread ... #much to thimk about this rohlíky .... #loving sigh. babygirl #thamks teal i enjoyed it <3 #ask #rambling #bread mentioned

[noirtm]

This’ll be interesting

#cheese #cheddar #mozzarella #feta cheese #brie cheese #Swiss cheese #gouda cheese #parmesan #roquefort #camembert #mmmmmm #food #polls #poll #i love cheese #idk if you can tell #delicous

[gretagerwigsmuse]

and even when we’re wrong in every way, we come out the other side okay (part 2.1)

Summary: in which lieutenant commander bradshaw is getting honored with an award and behaved like an absolute idiot when he didn’t initially ask his girlfriend to be his date even though she’s the best goddamn thing to ever happen to him

OR you take on the pacific fleet’s awards gala

Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader 9.8k

Warnings: 18+, explicit language, explicit sexual content (p in v, vaginal fingering and slight dom/sub and praise and rank kink elements), and shower sex and soapy titties

[Part 1] [Part 1.5] [Part 2.1] [Part 2.2]

A/N: this was really fucking long, so i split it up. the final final part will be posted soon! but i just want to thank everyone so so so much for all the absolutely amazing support i’ve gotten on this entire series including my little bradley and smart aleck drabbles and the respective lore about the two of them. i have so many people to thank for reaching out and leaving the absolute sweetest comments and replies and messages, but i’d be remiss if i didn’t call out sol, may, cass, ava, giza, and kylie for all their help and encouragement and listening to me complain via dms these past few weeks! so without further adieu...

and all these situations we go through, we come out the other side brand new

Bradley couldn’t believe it had almost been six months since the two of you had gotten together. Nearly six months of dinner dates, movie nights, cooking at each other’s places, beach trips, hikes (begrudgingly on your part), and even a couple jaunts down to Tijuana just for Caesar salads - all to say nothing about the sex.

“…God, you’re so fucking smart. Keep going, one more time for me…” His voice trailed off, turning into a groan. 

You bounced on his cock, balancing one hand on his chest, while brushing your hair out of your face with the other. “…even with inflation slowing, we should expect to see - oh, god, Bradley - in-interest rates will - will still rise - they’ll still rise - I’m so close, bubs.”

“Fuck.” He dug his hands harder into your hips. “You look so good taking my cock like that - now put your hands on those gorgeous tits of yours - just like that -”

“- I don’t think I can last - fuck oh oh oh -” You clumsily grabbed your breasts with one hand and threw your head back. 

Bradley stilled and you whined. He could feel you clenching around him. “- Can’t cum until you finish that presentation - don’t want my girl acting all dumb at work tomorrow -”

“- Fuck you - you should’ve - ohhh should’ve paid attention the first time.” He slapped your ass. “Mmmmmm, oh-okay Congress should stabilize - price caps to reduce inflationary pressures - please, bradley - oh god oh oh fuck - pressures through selective price caps -ohhhh god - fuck!”

Sure it was a delicate balance and mix of personalities sometimes, but it worked. Bradley thought it worked. Seemed like it did. His life with you was entirely separate from his life with the Navy. And he liked that. 

He liked that he could come home from a really long or hard day at work and you would both just talk about your days in the simplest terms and work through your shit together while eating dinner and then watching TV. Because work was work, no matter what field you worked in - coworkers were still assholes, your bosses still gave you shit, and deadlines still loomed. 

And so, Bradley just kept things separate. He still hung out with his friends, you still hung out with your friends, you both still had your separate apartments (though you had spent far more nights together than apart), and yeah sometimes you’d hang out with each other’s friends, but Bradley hadn’t wanted to bring you back to the Hard Deck.

He hadn’t wanted to relive that night when he was an asshole and Hangman had made you feel less than. And so meet ups were on neutral ground, drinks downtown and even a dinner party at his place once. 

But it worked. He thought it worked. Seemed like it did.

Because Bradley knew that you adored him. He knew you loved him, obviously - he was pretty sure he had had a perpetual smile on his face for two days after you had told him, all nervous and sweet and endearing one morning. But more to the point, he knew that you adored him - figurative warts and all. 

You had taught him that he was more than his rank or his callsign or his military ID number or - hell - even his last name - he was just Bradley. And for so long he hadn’t been living as Bradley. He’d gone through the motions, sure. But he hadn’t really let himself just be until he had met you. 

Even Phoenix, who you had gotten close to, had said something similar to him about you. Much like Bradley, she saw you as an amazing person, while also liking the ability to exist as just Natasha - not Phoenix. 

So yeah, maybe he wasn’t giving you enough credit. Instead of confronting it head-on, Bradley tried to remove anything that would remind you of his other life in the Navy and in doing so probably wasn’t being fair to you - or to himself. And he knew he would have to confront it sometime (maybe, eventually, like when you got married or something - maybe), but he didn’t think it would happen so soon. 

“What’s this?” 

You slipped the thick card stock invitation off Bradley’s fridge, a teasing smile on your face. He had forgotten it was there - but he hadn’t forgotten that he hadn’t told you about it. The smile on your face spread further as you read on and he tried not to shift on his feet. 

You glanced up at him. “Bradley, this is next weekend?”

“Is it?” He leaned over your shoulder to read the invitation, all while knowing full well when the gala was to be held. 

“Yeah, next Saturday.” You kept reading, a crinkle appearing on your forehead. “No way! It says you’re getting an award, too? Bradley, that’s amazing! Why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugged and avoided eye contact - fuck, you looked so proud of him. “It didn’t seem - important, I guess?”

“It sounds pretty important…” Your face fell suddenly. “Wait, you - do you not want me to come? Is that why you didn’t mention it?” you whispered. 

“No, no, I - I just - I just didn’t know if it was something you’d want to do? Like it’s a Navy thing and I didn’t think you’d want to go -”

“- Oh.” You glanced down and seemed to shrink in on yourself even though Bradley had his arms around your waist. “I mean, my boyfriend’s getting an award, seems like kind of a big deal - but it’s cool. I can - I can always see what the girls are up to that night, maybe see that new-”

Fuck. Shit. It wasn’t that he didn’t want you to go, he just - shit - he tried to back track, but barely got a chance to get the words out. “- Sweetheart -” 

You shook your head and stepped out of his arms, leaving the invitation on the kitchen island. “It’s okay, really. I think I’m - I’m just gonna shower and get ready for bed. I have that early meeting tomorrow morning, so…”

It wasn’t even ten yet, but Bradley didn’t push it. He knew he had fucked up and you deserved to have some space to think things over. 

“Oh. Yeah, I’ll just finish cleaning up then?”

You paused to give him a kiss, which was far too brief for his liking, and dashed out of the kitchen. Once he was sure you were gone, he leaned his elbows on the kitchen island and then hung his head in his hands. God, he fucked up. He really fucked up.

In his attempt to not want you to be embarrassed of him, he had irreparably hurt your own feelings. He had made you feel less than. With a groan, he slapped his hands on the granite countertop and finished cleaning up.

The two of you didn’t fight often - was this a fight? He had really just fucked up, you hadn’t done anything. And even when the two of you did fight, it was normally over trivial stuff like not cleaning the stove correctly (which Bradley did not do) or sometimes not telling the other what time either of you would be home or when Bradley had offered to watch Fanboy’s dog for the weekend even though you were terrified of any dog over thirty pounds.

He should’ve just been honest with you from the start - he wanted to invite you, but he didn’t know if you would have been comfortable? Because, to be fair, events like these were sometimes even a little too gung-ho for Bradley and his friends - Hangman notwithstanding, the man loved to work a room like a drunken Kennedy, often saying you gotta network to get work, baby. 

Galas and other naval ceremonies were mainly for the old brass who were still into tradition and setting an example and having their wives fawn over them all night. It was all about the spectacle, not the actual service men or women they were honoring. Sure, it was nice to be getting an award for saving Maverick last November during the uranium enrichment plant mission - but that wasn’t why Bradley had done it. That was never why Bradley would do anything.

He did it because it was the right thing.

And right now, as much as it hurt him, it was the right thing to give you some space. 

You would both talk about it in the morning with fresh eyes and a good night’s sleep and Bradley would beg for you to forgive him for being so callous and unfeeling, even though his intentions had been good.

Once he finished cleaning up, he made sure the front and back door were locked before turning off all the lights and heading to his room. Figuring you were already in bed, he opened the door slowly, not wanting to startle you, only to find his bed empty. You were still in the shower. He glanced at the old fashioned alarm clock on his nightstand and frowned - you’d been in there for almost thirty minutes.

Bradley crossed the bedroom and opened the bathroom door, only to be greeted by a thick cloud of steam. The shower was still running, though he didn’t hear the telltale signs of you washing your hair or face. He cleared his throat before speaking.

“You okay in there?” he asked, stepping closer to the shower, itself. 

Just when he had been about to draw back the curtain, you called out: “Yeah, fine. My uhh - my shoulder just hurts. Wanted to keep it under the hot water for a bit.”

Your shoulder had never bothered you before. If anything, you were more prone to knee pain - a bad lacrosse injury in your youth sometimes flared up if you took too many classes a week on your Peloton. But not your shoulder.

“Okay. Well,” he stuttered, “I’m just gonna brush my teeth…” 

God, he sounded like an idiot. Why couldn’t he just go in there and tell you that he wanted you to come? That he wanted to dance with you all night, have you cheer him on as he accepted his award, see you sitting with Maverick and Penny and smiling at Bradley and talking with all his friends?

You took a moment to respond. “Okay, I’ll be out in a few.”

Fuck - did your voice sound thicker than normal? Were you crying? God, he really hoped you weren’t crying. Shit, now he was going to start crying.

Bradley stared longingly at the shower curtain while brushing his teeth. As much as it hurt, he had to give you some space, at least for now. But he couldn’t stop his own insecurities from popping up either; why was he so worried you wouldn’t love this other part of him? Why had he chosen to hide it from you, especially when getting the award actually did mean a lot to him?

He loved you. He loved you so much. 

And you loved him. You loved him so much.

With a sigh, Bradley spit the excess toothpaste in the sink, rinsing his mouth and then the porcelain bowl. He completed his basic nighttime skincare routine and then glanced around the bathroom, trying to prolong his time there. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed your pajama shorts and t-shirt neatly folded on top of the toilet tank. Before he even realized what he was doing, he hung them both up on the hooks next to your fluffy white towel, knowing you hated dripping water on the floor when you got out of the shower. He figured it was the least he could do; just something so you knew he was there.

He snuck out of the bathroom a moment later, shutting the door behind him with a click and then mindlessly went through the motions of putting on his pajamas and throwing his dirty clothes in the hamper. By the time he had gotten into bed, the shower had turned off and he sat up, leaning against the pillows, waiting for you. 

When you finally came out of the bathroom some twenty minutes later - only after he had turned the light off, mind you - Bradley noticed with a sinking heart, and even in the darkness, that your eyes were puffy, only confirming his suspicion that he had heard you crying in the shower. He felt like the world’s biggest asshole. Just as he had been about to say something - what he didn’t know - you wordlessly crawled into bed beside him and burrowed your face in his chest, wrapping your body around his. Your wet hair tickled his arm and he could smell your shampoo and complementary lotion.

Neither of you said anything, you just laid there, holding each other, listening to the rise and fall of each other’s breathing.

Eventually, you dropped off into a fitful sleep, but Bradley kept you close, idly running his hands through your hair, hoping tomorrow he would get the chance to explain himself.

---------

“What the fuck did you say to her?” 

Bradley turned around to face Phoenix and sighed at the expression on her face. “What did I say to whom and when?” 

He was being purposely difficult, but he had been in a mood all morning and lunch was currently the only thing getting him through the day. They were serving grilled cheese on that thick bread Bradley liked so much and tomato soup and he had been looking forward to it after leaving his lunch in the refrigerator at home - that was until Phoenix had ruined it with her interrogation.

You’d left before Bradley had even gotten up - a rarity in and of itself - texting him that you hadn’t liked the outfit you’d brought over for work that day and had to swing by your place to change before your eight thirty meeting with the east coast team. You hadn’t even woken him up for a kiss goodbye.

(However, you had texted him your Wordle score - 2/6. He still couldn’t figure out how you managed that with twang, but he figured that meant all hope wasn’t lost between the two of you.)

“Don’t be an ass. She called me this morning - yeah, she called me - asking me if the event I wanted a date for was the same awards gala you had been invited to or not? Said she wasn’t sure since mine sounded like a date thing and you hadn’t mentioned it. So, now I feel like an asshole because I’ve been talking to her about finding me a date for this thing, only to find out her own boyfriend hadn’t even invited her? The fuck, Bradshaw?”

The pit that had already been forming in Bradley’s stomach all morning only grew as Phoenix kept talking. “It’s not that I didn’t want to ask her, I just didn’t know if she’d want to go…” 

Phoenix looked at him like he had seven heads and stole his grilled cheese right off his tray. He grabbed another. “That’s bullshit. That girl adores you, Bradley, of course she would want to go! God, you should’ve fucking heard her on the phone, she sounded so sad and just - small, which is never a word I thought I’d use to describe her but...”

His stomach dropped. Small. You had felt small. Bradley had made you feel small.

“I didn’t want her to - I know she - look, I know she isn’t super keen on the whole Navy thing and I didn’t want her to have to pretend for my sake or put up with shitty comments all night or whatever.”

That one’s got quite a mouth on her.

“I don’t think you’re giving her enough credit.” As always Phoenix was right, repeating what Bradley had told himself last night. “Like I said, she adores you and I know she respects you, why else would she still be with you?”

She adores you and I know she respects you. He knew that stuff too - obviously - but sometimes it was nice to hear it from someone else. That someone else could tell how much you and Bradley meant to each other and loved each other even without seeing some of your most private and intimate moments - whether changing the sheets on Saturday mornings to preparing the next day’s lunch after dinner every night.

Little stuff like that. Stuff that made a relationship - that made a life together.

“...And I shouldn’t even have told you all that because she’s my friend, too. But you have to make this right.”

Phoenix’s words were said with an edge to them that Bradley had only heard once before. And it had been directed towards Hangman of all people. 

“We’re uhh - we’re talking tonight - well, we’re supposed to, but I don’t know if she’ll -”

A hand on his shoulder cut him off. “- It’s going to be fine, just be honest with each other.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, yeah,” he rambled. “Just be honest.”

Phoenix nodded, seemingly content with his response. They made their way over to an empty table and started eating. 

“Good,” she said through a mouthful of grilled cheese, “because I need to get some shoes for my dress and as much as I love Halo, she’s a DSW girl and I have some civvy to impress, so I need your girl’s help.”

Bradley chuckled. Though it went against protocol, the women had been granted leave of wearing their formal dress uniforms, provided they had the rest of their regalia pinned on a formal sash. When the change in protocol had first been announced while the team was at lunch, Phoenix had let out an uncharacteristic squeal at the news, citing that while you all - well some of you - look handsome in your formal dress uniform, it was definitely designed by a man who hated his female colleagues; so yes, I’m excited to wear a pretty dress for once.

It was sweet. She had been so excited that she had even asked Bradley and Halo for their opinion on her dress last week. He had, of course, thought it was well suited to her, but it had only worsened the pit in his stomach that he hadn’t told you about the gala yet. But maybe, to make up for not going dress shopping with her, you could discuss shoes with Phoenix. Provided you actually still did want to go to the gala with Bradley.

Once he groveled and all.

“I’m sure she’ll text you to make plans - provided she says yes and still wants to come with me,” he couldn’t help but mutter.

 Phoenix kicked him under the table and he let out a yelp. “Stop being annoying, your self deprecation is putting me off my lunch -”

“- The same lunch that you stole from me…” She glared at him. “Fine, I will try to keep the self deprecation to a minimum.”

“But the groveling should be at a maximum - hey, have you thought about going down on her until your old man knees crack - oww!”

It was his turn to kick her in the shin. “Oops, sorry…”

Bradley wasn’t old. Well, not that old that he was above subtly flipping Phoenix off for the rest of the day.

---------

Later that day, Bradley hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until he saw your dark grey Q5 pull into his driveway around six-thirty. Over the course of your very brief text conversation after lunch, you had mentioned you’d be stopping by his place after work, but he hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up.

As it was, he had been waiting on his front porch - still in his work khakis - since getting home around five-forty-five. He watched you take a deep breath before turning your car off and then gradually make your way up to the house.

He noticed you didn’t close the final distance to where he was still standing on the front porch. And he also noticed you didn’t have your overnight bag in your hands. His heart dropped - god, he fucked this up so badly.

You gave him a hesitant smile, clasping your hands together at your stomach. You looked pretty in your work clothes. But you always looked pretty. 

Bradley cleared his throat. “Hey…”

“Hey…” you said, matching his tone. At least you were both a little nervous.

He said your name and then took the initiative to bridge the distance between the two of you and started down the steps to the front walk. “We should talk -”

“- Me first, please?” You rushed out and Bradley nodded hesitantly. 

You took a step towards him. “Look, I’m really sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have made it into such a big deal. Obviously, you had your reasons for not telling me and I shouldn’t have pushed and made you uncomfortable. I don’t know a lot about the Navy, but it seems like being up for an award is a really big deal and I just - I guess I just wanted to be there for you? 

“And I don’t - god, I don’t want you to be scared to bring me places or to meet your other friends because you think I’ll say something to embarrass you - so, I will happily support you from the sidelines that night, waiting at home for you with some champagne to celebrate.”

God, you were so wrong? How could you be so wrong? Fuck. You thought he was embarrassed of you? Clearly, you’d given this some thought, he had to have done it before. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

Bradley placed his hands on your waist. And tried to catch your eye. 

“No, no. God, no. I’m so sorry, sweetheart. Listen, I should be the only one apologizing here. I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable all night and - I don’t know, have to put up with all the Navy shit and everything? I saw how uncomfortable you were when you picked me up after the Speaker’s visit and I didn’t want you to have to go through that again at the gala. It’s a lot - even for me sometimes - and I guess I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable or embarrassed of me? But I wanted - I want you there with me. And I shouldn’t have taken the choice away from you just because I want to protect you.”

Because you asked questions. Most other people didn’t ask questions. They took the orders, did the job, and came home. There was nothing wrong with asking questions. It was just that other people really didn’t ask them. 

They knew that no matter what questions they asked or answers they received, that an order was still an order. So, your questions came off as probing and condescending without that necessarily being your intent. You were curious and critical when need be, sure. But Bradley would never classify you as condescending. Ever. 

You nodded and then tipped your head up to look at him, the beginning of a smile on your face, though you still seemed a little reserved.

“You’re right, you shouldn’t have…” He squeezed his hands around your hips. “But I was really - god, Bradley, you really hurt my feelings.

“I thought you were embarrassed of me or something? Like you didn’t want everyone to know your girlfriend is a stone cold pacifist or a bitch or - no, let me finish. And that really hurt because I love you - so much - and if something’s important to you, I want you to tell me and let me share it with you, no matter what.”

“Sweetheart - I was embarrassed, but not of you. I didn’t want you to have to - I don’t know, fake it through the entire thing and pretend like you’re -”

“- Bradley,” you said sternly, “I would never pretend to be excited for you.”

He sighed. “I know - I mean, I should’ve known that, but I guess I was just feeling insecure and took it out on you. It’s just - I like that with you, I don’t have to be all this,” he gestured down at his khakis, “Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw stuff and I can just be Bradley - which I know sounds dumb -”

“- It does not sound dumb, okay? You’re totally valid for what you’re feeling, just the same as I am, alright?”

His cheeks flushed, knowing you were right. “Yeah, I guess this award and all this top one-percent bullshit they throw at us just makes me feel like I’m someone I’m not sometimes? And with you I just feel like me?”

You gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “And that’s what I love about you, that you’re unabashedly yourself with me - weird stove cleaning routine and all. You’re my Bradley.”

He smiled and pulled you in for a hug. You wrapped your arms around his stomach in response, squeezing him tight. “And I love you and I want you to share all parts of yourself with me, alright? I’m a big girl, I can handle it - even though sometimes I still think you should just be an astronaut,” your voice came out slightly muffled against his chest.

“I love you, too.” You pulled back and he gave you a kiss on the forehead. “So,” he said your first and last name, “will you go to this slightly pretentious Navy gala with me and whisper snarky comments in my ear all night and dance with me until our feet hurt?”

You giggled, the action lighting up your entire face. “Yes, of course I will, Bradley.” He threw his arm around your shoulders and the two of you started making your way up the front steps, finally ending the free show Bradley had been giving his neighbors for the last few minutes. 

“Wait,” he said suddenly, “you didn’t bring a bag with you - do you still wanna…” He tried not to let the hurt show on his face. 

You tucked your hair behind your ears. “Oh, err - I actually just left it in the car…didn’t want to seem too eager if you didn’t actually want me to stay over…”

The two of you didn’t spend too many nights apart - baring when the other was traveling for work, but Bradley hadn’t even considered not wanting you to stay over that night - fight or no fight. In response, he wordlessly held out his hand and wiggled his fingers. A smile crept across your face and you got your car keys out of your dress pocket for him.

“Silly girl,” was all Bradley said before he unlocked your car and got your leather overnight bag and work tote out of the passenger seat. 

With his other arm thrown over your shoulder, the two of you made your way into the house. He handed you your tote before putting your overnight bag in his bedroom. When he was just outside the kitchen, he saw you leaning against the doorframe in the hallway waiting for him.

“You know, I do think you’ll look handsome in your uniform…”

Bradley smirked. He had only worn his dress blues around you once before, to say nothing about his formal dress blues. “That so…” 

You shrugged, clearly trying to come off as nonchalant. “Even though some may consider it a symbol of imperialism.”

“And there’s my girl.” You ducked your head. 

The two of you made your way to the kitchen and you let out a gasp once you saw what was on the island. 

“You got me flowers?” You sounded pleasantly surprised, which brought a smile to his face. You fingered the petals. “You didn’t have to…”

Normally, Bradley got you flowers just because. Just because he got out of work early that day or just because you looked particularly pretty the day before or just because you had made him laugh. Which is all to say, he got you flowers quite frequently. And he always kept track of when to get the next ones by slipping one stem out of the bouquet and keeping it in his office on base; if the flower in his office died, then it was time to get you some new ones. 

But the flowers sitting on his kitchen island - a gorgeous arrangement of white tulips and pink peonies - were most definitely apology flowers. Because Bradley had been an asshole and had made you cry and doubt him and feel less than. And he had made a promise to you after your first date that he would try his damn hardest to never make you feel less than ever again.

And while he knew flowers wouldn’t solve everything, they would surely bring a smile to your face and that was a pretty good start. The flowers had been why he couldn’t shower between training and his afternoon class - he had to dash out to get them.

“I might bring them to my office, that way I can stare at them all day.”

He walked over towards you and wrapped his arms around your waist. “You’re not gonna leave ‘em here? Kinda like how they look on my counter…”

“Hmmm, but this way I can think of you while I’m at work - oh, god no. Nevermind, that was corny as shit,” you finished with a grimace that had the two of you laughing. 

“You know, I never told you why I’m getting an award - or why I’m part of the group getting an award…”

You tensed beside him and he turned to face you. “So help me god, Bradley, if you’re getting an award for killing someone or endangering civilians in the name of god and country -”

“- Nah, that’s one of the other guys,” he teased and you leaned your forehead against his chest, letting out a groan. He was only slightly joking.

You leaned back to look him in the eye. “Well, what’s it for then?”

“You know that mission I originally got called back here for last November and how Mav and I made up?” You nodded, remembering the couple times Bradley had mentioned it. “Well, it was kind of a big deal -”

“- So you’ve told me…”

He probably shouldn’t have - classified information and all - but you had been impressed with him and it was the one time you had really leaned into the whole Navy thing - at least sexually. My hero, you kept calling him in an only slightly condescending manner while Bradley took you from behind.

“Well, I don’t think I told you the part where I may have gotten shot down after saving Mav and we had to steal a plane...”

“Wha-what?! Shot down? Like out of the sky? And you - you just said you guys got picked up by search and rescue after there was an issue with your planes?”

Bradley shrugged. He had told you stuff about work, like why he sometimes woke up with nightmares - you never pushed for him to tell you any details, though you always asked if he wanted to talk about it - and that he’d had a couple bad scrapes over the years. But he never told you too much about the uranium enrichment plant mission. 

It was six months before the two of you had even started dating, so Bradley never thought to bring it up. And he knew that if he ever wanted to open up and tell you about it or any other past deployments then you’d listen and be a good sounding board. But he didn’t want to sound like a whiner - or worse, that he was bragging. 

Bradley hadn’t gone back for Mav because he wanted the praise or an award or anything like that. He had done it because he loved him - plain and simple. He loved his godfather and couldn’t bear the thought that he had sacrificed his life for Bradley just as they were getting towards an understanding again. Because though he had originally said otherwise, there would be someone to mourn Maverick if he burned in - Bradley. 

The fact that Bradley had been projecting when he had originally said that to Mav was something he had only brought up with his therapist - and it would remain that way.

Because Maverick was the one who played catch with Bradley on the weekends and taught him how to drive and brought him up in a plane for the first time and told him how to talk to girls and that Bradley was good - that he was a good person and someone his dad would be proud of and respect not only as his son, but as a man, as well.

And that’s why what Maverick did hurt so much. Because Bradley thought Maverick respected him, as well. And to find out he didn’t and that he pulled his papers from the Naval Academy just proved that. Or at least it did. Bradley thought it did - had, he thought it had.

“Mav got between my plane and a SAM and got shot down and I wanted to go after him - it was like, I’d just gotten him back after eighteen years, I wasn’t going to lose him again - and I went against orders to go back and get him - which kinda makes this whole award thing a bit of a surprise - and then I got hit and we had to make our own way back to the carrier. So, yeah - Mav and I are getting an award for it. Bagman, too, actually.”

He kept the details of Hangman’s heroics out of it. Bradley had been content to let bygones be bygones about their whole rivalry thing and the two were amicable for awhile, but then Jake had insulted you, so they were back to being polite enemies. Plus, Jake had been on special assignment in Japan and Bradley hadn’t seen him in about five months.

“How could you think I wouldn’t be proud of you for that? Bradley, that’s - that’s fucking wild and a really amazing thing and we should definitely celebrate that? What the hell?” You lightly shoved his shoulder. He didn’t budge. “I’m kinda mad at you again, actually.”

“Oh, yeah?”

You nodded, trying to look serious. “Thought we were going to be more open with each other about stuff like that?”

“We literally just made the promise!” You shot him a teasing glare. “Fine, next time I save my godfather from enemy fire you’ll be one of the first to know.”

“That’s all I ask, bubs.”

He gave you a quick kiss on the lips. “Back to bubs, am I?”

“You’re always my bubs.”

The nickname had first slipped out when you had been dating for two months. It had snuck up on the both of you, like you hadn’t even realized what you were saying the first time: hey, bubs, can you get me my phone? Bradley instantly melted. 

Bubs.

It was so simple and stupid and probably didn’t even stand for anything, but he loved it. Loved hearing it fall from your lips, whether as you teased or taunted him or as you mumbled it against his skin in bed at night. 

Bubs. 

“You hungry? I have plenty of food in the fridge or we could get take out? Your call?”

You tapped your index finger against your chin. “Hmmmm, let’s do take out? Pad thai?”

He pretended to consider this while he kneaded his thumbs into your hips. “I could do pad thai…”

“You could also do with a shower, flyboy.” You kissed him, across his cheeks, on his nose, and up and down his jaw before settling on his lips. “You smell like your fancy cologne, but also like,” you leaned in to smell his shirt and scrunched your nose once you pulled back, “burnt rubber.”

Bradley made a similar face and pinched your hip causing you to giggle. “I flew this morning for a bit, but had a class this afternoon - hence all this…”

In response, you rolled your eyes and pushed him away slightly, going over to the other side of the island and getting out your phone. Bradley didn’t wear his khakis too often, but it wasn’t quite a practical class and therefore required more than his flight suit. 

“Well, I’m gonna order,” you tapped on your phone, “and it should be here by the time you get out of the shower.”

“Awww, you’re gonna pay for me?” He laid a hand on his chest.

You didn’t even look up. “Don’t read too much into it - I mean, if either of us should be paying, it should be you…”

“But sweetheart,” he leaned his elbows on the island and gave you a hammy smile, “you’re my sugar mo -”

In return, you shot him an unimpressed look. “- So help me god, if you finish that sentence, you’re not getting crab rangoon or sex tonight - you really shouldn’t get either, but you did get me flowers and were very sweet when you apologized - so don’t ruin it by saying…that.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll be quick.” He winked. 

“Aren’t you always….”

Bradley chose to ignore you, knowing he’d get you back later and made his way to his bedroom. He never was quick for the record. If anything you were the quick one - always babbling incoherently as you took his cock or fingers, desperate to cum from the slightest touch. 

He strode across his bedroom to the bathroom where he turned on the shower to let it heat up, preferring it to be nice and toasty when he hopped in. Then he went back out to the bedroom and stripped out of his clothes, neatly placing them in the hamper. By the time he finished and walked back into the bathroom naked, the shower was the perfect temperature. 

He stood underneath the spray for a few moments, letting the hot water wash over him and soothe his tense shoulder muscles. This week’s training had been absolute murder on his body - he’d gotten shot down twice earlier in the day and unfortunately Payback was still into that stupid pushup bet, even nearly a year later, and they’d pulled almost 10 G’s. 

Bradley rubbed his hands over his face and let out a groan. Fuck, he was getting old. While not nothing exactly, four hundred pushups normally wouldn’t have had this much of an effect on him, but fuck - he was sore.

And then, even over the stream of the water, Bradley could hear the bathroom door open. He turned his head, waiting for you to call out to him, to say that you were just washing your hands or had to pee or were getting some lotion. But you didn’t say anything. 

He stood there under the showerhead, under the steam waiting for what felt like eternity. And then - and then there was the rustle of clothing, and he heard that gorgeous, ruffly, flirty dress of yours fall to the floor and saw you pull back the curtain. Through the slight gap you looked up at him, eyes wide, as if scared he would turn you away. 

“Can I come in with you?” 

Without a word, he held his hand out for you, helping you step over the lip of the tub to stand in the shower beside him. For a while, the two of you just stood there, taking the other in as your hair got wet underneath the spray.

“Here,” you reached over his shoulder to get his bottle of shampoo off the caddy, “let me.”

Bradley watched you flip the cap off and squirt some shampoo into your hands. You jutted your chin in his direction, which he took as his queue to lean over slightly so you could reach. 

“Your hair’s gotten lighter in the sun,” you said mildly, before lathering some shampoo through it. Your fingers kneaded at his scalp and he let out a sigh. 

The two of you didn’t do this too often. Sure, Bradley would normally sneak up on you in the shower as you were finishing up or you’d both clean the other off after having sex every now and then. But this was different. This was intimate and tender and raw. 

He could feel you styling his hair into some sort of half-assed mohawk. “Do I want to know how ridiculous I look?” You giggled. “Think I’ll take that as a no. Just wait till I get my hands on you, missy.”

“I wish you’d get your hands on me. This is about the least sexy shower I’ve ever taken…”

“Then tell me what you want?”

You bit your lip and then glanced down at the rest of his body as he did the same. God, you were so gorgeous and pretty and soft and wet. So fucking wet. 

You cupped his cheek, gliding your thumb over the scar he hated so much, and then leaned forward to kiss it briefly. Without wasting another moment, Bradley groaned your name against your ear, before chasing a droplet of water down your neck with his lips. He wanted to follow it all the way down your chest, over your breasts, across your stomach, down to your cunt that he knew was wet from reasons beyond the shower you were currently sharing, but instead you tipped his chin up to capture his lips in a kiss. 

All too soon, you pulled back and grabbed the showerhead to rinse the shampoo out of his hair. “Hmmmm - first, we gotta get you clean, sick of you smelling like planes…”

Bradley tilted his head back as you worked. “No, I’ll just smell like that fancy shampoo and soap you forced me to buy.”

“I did not force you, I only said I would not shower at your place if these were my only -”

“- But you knew the prospect of limited sex at my house would make me cave, hence you forced my hand to buy this thirty dollar shampoo and the conditioner.” 

The annoying part was that it smelled really good and Bradley’s hair had never felt softer or healthier, but he’d be damned if he told you that. Bob and Fanboy had even made fun of him for it once.

You raked your fingers through his now sud free hair. “Well, it still beats the Head and Shoulders crap you used to buy.” You hung the showerhead back up and then got the loofah off the hook before lathering it up with the bougie soap that Bradley had also bought last week and started cleaning him. 

Bradley reckoned he really loved you if he was spending this much on shower products - probably too much to be honest. But his thoughts strayed to the way your hands were roaming over seemingly every part of his body that he forgot all about overpriced bar soap. You looked so focused as you worked, your tongue peeking out from between your lips. Your breasts dangled free as you crouched in front of him, causing his already half hard cock to rise fully. He needed to touch you - now.

“Here, my turn…” 

He took the loofah from your hands and briefly rinsed it and himself off before putting more soap on it. The showerhead went back up in the bracket. He started first with your shoulders and back, watching the suds drip lower as they got to your ass, making for the prettiest sight. Next, he worked his way up and down your arms, placing the occasional butterfly kiss, before lathering them up. Then came the legs - placed one at a time on the lip of the tub so he could get from the apex of your thighs all the way down to your ankles. 

“Bradley…” you kept sighing his name throughout.

But then - then came his favorite part. Or parts, really. 

“Turn around,” he said gruffly. 

You complied, wordlessly, putting your back against his front. You sighed against him and he pulled you even closer. Slowly, he rubbed the loofah across your breasts, caking them in soap suds and watching as your nipples hardened with each pass. 

“Such a pretty girl.”

Your back arched, jutting your breasts out to attention, as the remnants of the soap Bradley had just lathered across them slid down your body. 

God, he loved soapy tits. Next time he was on a deployment, he was just going to ask you to send him pictures of your breasts lathered in soap suds. Soft and pretty and wet. One arm underneath them pushing them up slightly.

Fuck, he could get lost just staring at them. The soap made them look even bigger than normal, if that was possible - and all he wanted to do was play with them. While his hands were large, your tits were still too big for him to grasp one handed, but he tried to make do while his other hand laid firmly against your stomach, pressing your body against his. You wiggled your ass against his cock, forcing a moan out of you both. 

Bradley was getting sick of it - of you teasing him. With your soapy tits and soft skin and pretty fucking smile. He wanted to tease you, make you be at his mercy. Put the proverbial shoe on the other foot, if you will. Slowly, he slowly slid his hand down your stomach, closer and closer to your cunt. You let out a whine when he stopped his fingers just before they got to his intended target - he had an idea.

Instead, he reached up and grabbed the showerhead with his right hand, taking it off the bracket and bringing it over towards the two for you. He started first rinsing off your shoulders, then your arms, breasts, and stomach. Until finally, he turned down the water temperature and placed the showerhead where his fingers were teasing you moments ago. Your body practically jumped at the sudden sensation. 

“Bradley…” you sighed, leaning your head back against his shoulder. “Wha -”

“- Shhhh, s’alright.” He started you off slow, at a lighter speed, just enough to rile you up and keep you wanting more. Once he got comfortable with maneuvering the showerhead, coupled with holding you against him, he really started to have some fun. First, he propped one of your legs back up on the lip of the tub. Then, he kept moving the showerhead to different lengths away from you, watching to see how you reacted each time. And by the blissed out expression on your face, he could tell he had you right where he wanted you.

“Bradley,” you sighed prettily, “Please…”

He clicked his tongue. “Please what?”

“Plea-please, oh god…” You let out a moan when he changed the setting. “I - can you - I want -”

You couldn’t even get your words out as Bradley spread your pussy lips wider, the jets of water hitting all the right places. You moaned his name. Every time he pulled the shower head away for even a moment, you chased it back with your hips. Again and again and again he repeated the action until you were whimpering in his arms. 

Bradley loved hearing you babble. He loved when you talked smart to him and sassed him. But he really liked when you babbled incoherently. Because to have you - the smartest, wittiest, most capable girl he knew - be unable to form any words because you were so lost in him was the hottest thing in the world.

“What do you want, sweetheart?”

“Wanna cum, please. S’close.” You were squirming against him, so desperate to find your release. 

“You gonna be my good girl?”

You whined, but managed to nod and just barely reply: “Always - good - ohhh.”

Bradley hummed. “But good girls don’t cum from a showerhead playing with their clit, now do they…” 

This time a cry escaped your lips. All he’d have to do was say a few more words, angle the jet just right and you’d crumpled in his arms. So warm, so tight, so wet. He slid a finger, then another inside you and you squealed. 

“Thought you were gonna be my good girl -”

“- Ple - promise I - ahhh.” He crooked his fingers inside you, cutting off whatever you had been about to say.

“Hmmm,” he nipped at your neck, “too bad you’re acting like such a little slut, clenching around my fingers so hard, don’t know if you deserve to come…”

To further vex you, he turned up the pressure one final time with his thumb - he was oddly impressed with himself for doing it one handed, but the vice grip you had his fingers in made him loathe to remove them, even if it would make you beg for them back. Once the new speed of the jet hit your clit, you cried out and keened. 

“Bra - Bra - bubs, please, please,” you babbled, not stopping until his teeth dug into your neck. You always complained about him leaving marks, but tonight he was allowed. “Wanna - ple - plea - oh, oh, oh…”

He changed the angle on the shower head one final time and you came with a cry. It was hard to tell if you were louder than normal or if it was due to the echo from the shower, itself. Your body buckled against his, like your legs had given out.

“Shh, shhh, good girl, that’s my good girl,” Bradley muttered, this time pressing butterfly kisses to your neck and shoulder. “Such a good girl for me.”

Slowly, and with a whimper from you, he pulled his fingers out of your cunt, before he rinsed them and you off with the shower head. You could hardly take it, still overstimulated and working through the end of your orgasm. 

As you were still a little unsteady on your feet, Bradley carefully turned you around to face him, and the two of you got used to being under the stream of the water again. He tipped up your chin just slightly and captured your lips in a kiss. 

“You good, sweetheart?” 

You nodded, still a little dazed after your orgasm. Bradley always found it endearing that you always got a little sleepy after you had an orgasm or two. Well, maybe not endearing - he took it as an ego boost even though it was a bit primal of him - but it was always good to know how well he took care of you.

“No one’s ever made me come from a showerhead before - at least not like that…”

“Who else has done that?” He couldn’t help the little flare of possessiveness that spread through him. 

You tucked your wet hair behind your ears and focused on the scar on Bradley’s neck. “Me - in high school and college before I got my first vibrator…”

Bradley exaggerated a gasp. “You dirty girl. You think you know a person and then you find out she’d been fucking herself on a showerhead after studying for AP Euro every night...”

“Guys have it easier, all you need is your hand - or a sock.” To convey your point, you grasped his aching cock with your left hand. “Want me to take care of that for you?”

He pretended to consider this, but knew he was about a minute from spending himself on you. “Can I cum on your tits?”

You bit your lip in thought before you nodded. “You can even fuck them as long as you clean them off when you’re done, but I don’t know if that’s more of a reward for me or for you, lieutenant…”

Bradley groaned. Fucking your soapy tits? Jesus Christ. He really didn’t deserve you. Even such - “You know it’s lieutenant commander…”

You started stroking his cock, your hands already plenty wet and lubricated from the shower. “Doesn’t roll off the tongue quite as nicely.”

Fucking brat. 

“On your knees, sweetheart.”

By the time you two had finished, the water had run cold and your Postmates had sat on Bradley’s front porch for forty five minutes.

---------

Both exhausted from long weeks at work, the two of you spent the weekend together hanging out at your place, watching movies, cooking dinner, and swimming in your building’s skyline pool. While Bradley did love how homey his place was, he couldn’t help but be a little envious of the amenities in your high rise. 

It was nice to just have time together - especially after such an emotionally and physically exhausting week - and to go to bed early and wake up late, wrapped in each other’s arms, and plan out the day. 

Because there was something so inherently satisfying in the domesticity of running errands with someone and combining your routine with theirs. After swimming and reading in the sun on Saturday, you both spent that evening finishing the HBO show you had been binging. You shared a cart at Whole Foods, knowing you’d both eat all the food inside of it together anyways. Bradley picked out snacks he’d want at your apartment and you picked out the ones you’d want at his. You got fresh strawberries at the farmer’s market in Little Italy for him to make strawberry shortcake for dessert Sunday night. 

It was nice. It was easy. 

But whenever you weren’t focused on each other, you had either your phone or iPad out - sometimes both - looking at dresses. It seemed like you had a ready arsenal of websites at your disposal - department stores, e-commerce sites, everything. Yet, by Sunday afternoon, you still hadn’t found a dress to your liking. You were sitting at the kitchen island watching Bradley make dinner and he was now progressing along to prepping dessert. 

“Don’t women rent dresses for stuff like this? Like that’s a thing, isn’t it?”

“Like Rent the Runway?” That sounded right and he shrugged. “I’m not going to wear a rented dress!”

Bradley chuckled at your response. “My apologies for suggesting something so egregious.”

You propped your chin up in your palm. “I bet you $10 I’ll be able to pick out five of them at the gala.”

“Sweetheart, you’re looking at,” he glanced over at your screen, seeing the shoes you were thinking of buying, “eleven hundred dollar shoes, I think you can afford to bet more than $10.”

“I’m gonna wear them again!” He held his hands up in surrender. “I don’t know - I just want to look nice. I know it’s important and I haven’t really met a lot of these people before and I want them to like me,” you said, sounding increasingly shy. Your fingers idly swiped across the screen of your iPad and you refused to meet his eye. 

Bradley put down the paring knife and wiped his strawberry stained hands on his apron. He said your name and you glanced up at him a moment later. 

“Everyone’s going to love you, alright? Nat and Mav already do and I know the rest of the team will feel the same way - hell, you already met most of them before and that wasn’t so bad, right?”

“No,” you admitted. 

Granted, it hadn’t been flawless per se, but drinks and the dinner party you’d both thrown had gone relatively well, baring the incident with Harvard. Luckily, Bradley hadn’t seen him since then - he’d been on the same assignment as Hangman. 

Bradley walked over to the other side of the island and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. You leaned back against him and peered up at him. 

“And if for some ridiculous reason they don’t like you - which they won’t - fuck ‘em. You’re my girlfriend and I want you there beside me, alright?”

“Okay…” 

He started rocking you back and forth in his arms. God, how could you not see that you were all he wanted? That you were perfect for him?

“You’re going to look beautiful in whatever dress you decide on and whatever stupidly expensive shoes you wear - that I’m sure will make Nat unfathomably jealous - and you’re going to be wonderful.” You giggled. “See, it’s gonna be fine - and if you want to leave at any time, just say the word and we’re out of there.”

You twisted around to face him. “I’m not gonna make you leave early…”

“Sweetheart, like ninety percent of this event is going to be networking, which you know I hate more than you do, it won’t be that great of a loss.”

“True,” you considered this, “but you said there’s dancing and stuff?”

“Yeah, after dinner.”

“Then we’ll just do that,” you said simply. “I’ve never danced with you before anyway.”

He exaggerated a gasp and you smiled. “Do our kitchen dance parties mean nothing to you?”

“You know what I mean.” You got up from the stool and stood in front of him, putting your hands on his chest. “Like in front of other people, all formal and stuff?”

“And stuff?” You glared at him. “Well, since you wanna dance all formal and stuff, maybe we should practice?”

Without waiting for a response, Bradley went back over to the other side of the island and swiped through his phone until he pulled up the song he was looking for on Spotify. The ELO song from the speaker abruptly cut out and transitioned into Begin the Beguine. 

Your nose scrunched in thought as you tried to place the song, but you still took Bradley’s hand when he offered it to you. 

“Ella Fitzgerald, good choice.” He spun you out and got a giggle from you. “You’re too smooth, lieutenant.”

Once the chorus hit, he dipped you for good measure and - god - the smile on your face made him feel about ten feet tall. The two of you eventually settled down from your more ambitious dance moves to just swaying in each other’s arms. You looked up at him suddenly. 

“I love you, you know?”

Bradley never got tired of hearing you say that. I love you. He’d heard it and said it before, but it never had carried as much weight as when he had heard it from you for the first time. I love you. 

And Bradley knew that you were going to be the only person he ever said it to again.

“I love you, too, sweetheart.” 

He bent down to kiss you, pulling your body as close to his as possible. You whined in protest when he eventually pulled away and he chuckled.

“Don’t you want dinner?” As if on queue, the chicken pot pie Bradley had cooking in the oven let out a hiss as the filling hit the broil element. “Don’t want another shrimp risotto incident…”

“That was not my fault - okay, maybe it wasn’t all my fault…”

Bradley pressed a kiss to your forehead and begrudgingly let go of you. “Well, I gotta check this before your apartment almost burns down - again. Be a real pity if you had to stay at my place from now on…”

“Oh god, the horror! I’d be stuck with you all the time!”

You said it jokingly, but Bradley could tell you weren’t entirely opposed to the idea. 

Neither was he. 

---------

A/N: oh damn oh damn they’re so fucking cuuuuuute ahhh anyway full gala events - including some fun lil angsty moments - ft. mr jake seresin and a special guest 🫣 - and of course more smut (and dancing so much dancing) - coming soon in part 2.2 🥰

Taglist: @sunderlust @seasonsbloom @ticklish-leafy-plant @ponyboys-sunsets @lass-that-is-gone @2fabul0us4 @daniellef89x @double-j @hufflepuffprincesse @bradshawswife @cloudycluster @thedarkinmansfield @sithbelova @mavencalorers @fav-rooster-fics @thebeautifullydamnedone @unordinare @callsign-valley @pricklepearbloom @browneyedboys @cherrycola27 @whatblogisthis216 @agentofkrypton @lcahwriter @kyliesalvatore @noellreadfiction @coyotesamachado @heartsofminds @jocsrecs @notroosterbradshaw @milessmilesstuff @smokey102 @roosterschanelslut @iblogtopassthetime @karateperson @nessrin @frenchtoastix @piceous21 @princessphilly @notanordinaryprincess95 @spideyngwen @mrsjobarnes @calmpunker @softspiderling @softspiderlingmain @feralforfrank @fivsecondsflat @theghost1345 @sexualparkour @greenorangevioletgrass @howdysebby @sexygaypalpatine @moonyscardigans @carousallie @liveholland @supernaturaldawning @melancholyy-hill @whisperofsong @currentlybradshaw @summ3rlotus @seesaw-jk @cool-ultra-nerd @roostereads @oababy @milestomaverick @some-lovely-day​ @steadfastconviction​ @victoria-magic-tribute​ @gothicwidowsworld​ @lexhalstead3​ @unstablecaffeinatedmind​ @obsessedasusual​ @zombiedeathsworld​ @sydneyhlove​ @tellergf​

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw #rooster imagine #top gun imagine #top gun smut #bradley fic #bradley and smart aleck #writing #SORRY IF I FORGOT TO TAG ANYONE

[riverlikethelake]

hey heyy!! can you make a jake sully x daughter!reader based off this audio:

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZS8fkkodM/

can be anything you want just it like has to include those lines.

thata all, thank you!! love your work btw xx

Maite.

Jake sully x platonic!daughter!reader

word count: 2k

contains: death, ANGST, daddy issues, specifically MY daddy issues don't come for me, self hatred/low self esteem, hurt/comfort, why am I tagging like an ao3 author, eventual fluff

Ok ngl i thought it was gonna be a cute audio like beautiful boy

imagine my surprise when it's from fucking hereditary...

anyway, loved writing this, fueled my angsty little heart <3

uuuuuhhh not proofread, wrote this at like 2 am and during my lunchbreak. mmmmmm yeah i'm fighting melatonin rn so im just gonna stop typing

From an early age it was obvious you and Neteyam were complete opposites. He was always more thoughtful, while you were impulsive and reckless. You’d run around hand in hand exploring the forest together, he’d fuss over you staying on the path and you’d just smile an follow the lizards and bugs you saw.  

Neteyam was much more of a warrior than you, while he was learning to shoot an arrow, you were off with Mo’at and Ninat learning the more domestic parts of your clan. You’d weave beads and leaves together and they honestly never came out great, but your family, especially Neteyam, would praise you and cherish your work. 

Despite being Neteyam’s twin, you and Lo’ak were much more alike, sharing 4 fingers and a knack for causing trouble. So by the time Lo’ak was old enough to be unsupervised, you were abandoning your classes in favor of running off with your younger brother. 

Neteyam would worry to no end, scolding you and Lo’ak but pulling you aside for a much softer approach only moments later. “tsmuke please, I do not want you getting hurt” he’d plead, holding your hands. Eventually, he started following you around, making sure you stayed out of trouble and were safe. 

Despite this, you still ended up straight in the face of danger countless times. It irritated your father to no end how often you and your brother ended up in trouble, whether it be hanging off the Ayram alusìng because you disturbed the Ikrans or getting chased by an 'angtsìk. Lo’ak and Neteyam would get scolded, but you? You'd just get ignored. 

At first it was nice not getting yelled at, but it didn’t take long for it to become frustrating. He’d scold your brothers and send them off to the hammock, then he’d spare you a glance, like he couldn’t bear to look at you, and walk away. 

You started trying to take the blame for your brothers, cutting into his lecture, insisting it wasn’t their fault but yours. He’d just give you a look and nod for you to leave, brushing you off, disregarding your words. The way he stared at you and sometimes didn’t talk to you for days revealing the fact that he was always angry with you the most.  

No matter how angry you were, or how much trouble you were in, all your father would do is give you that goddamn look and ignore you. Neytiri says it’s because he sees himself in you but the same goes for Lo’ak and he doesn’t hesitate to rip into him, but when you point this out, Neytiri just shrugs and says you’re his first daughter, it’s different. 

You see how he treats Kiri and Tuk, like they’re delicate angels he needs to protect, emotionally and physically. You don’t like being babied or waited on hand and foot, but sometimes you wish you were, watching your father care for and have deep conversations with all your sibling's causing resentment. 

Resentment to yourself, because in truth, you are like him. All your life people have been saying how similar you and Lo’ak are to your father, and the older you get, the more you see it. You were angry at your father, upset at his hesitance to scold and hug you, but soon that turned into anger for yourself. 

Neteyam’s a great warrior, Kiri has an exceptional connection to Eywa, Lo’ak’s charisma and skill with a bow, and Tuk the baby. They all had reasons to stand out, steal your parents' attention, but you simply seemed to just... be there. 

You were reckless with nothing to make up for it. You started to tell yourself it’s no wonder dad can’t look at you, he can’t scold you, he doesn’t know how to treat you. How to love you 

Leaving the clan was hard, but you understood, your family was in danger, and you’d do anything to keep them safe, you just wish the transition was easier. You felt like you stood out like a sore thumb, you weren’t particularly good at the ways of the Metkayina, and your temper landed you in many fights with not only the boys picking on your family, but your father. 

At first, he could pin it on Lo’ak and Neteyam, but when they became friends with the boys, adjusting well and thriving, he had no choice but to finally confront you.  

Why couldn’t you just be like Neteyam? That’s all he could say. It’s not what he said exactly, but that’s all you got from the conversation. It was painful watching him struggle to speak to you, eventually you just stood up and stormed out.  

All you want is for him to show something to you, something other than the bare minimum necessary for him to still call himself your father. All you wanted was to prove yourself, but you have no idea how to when you don’t even know why he’s disappointed. 

Your heart is  pounding in your ears, drowning out any other sound as you pull your brothers arm over your shoulder, securing him against your back. You glance back to see Lo’ak holding onto Spider as he and Tsireya adjust their grip to tightly hold onto the Ilu saddle. 

“Go!” Lo’ak yells, and you move forward, Surging through the water, all you can think about is your brother, the way he lays limp against you. You feel like you are going fast enough, the water and weight of your heart slowing you down. 

As you approach a rock, you see your father running to your aid. “He’s been shot!” you call out, watching as your fathers face twists into fear. Lo’ak and spider pull him off your back, Jake helps guide him out of the water and onto the rock. As they set him down, you scramble to sit, placing his head on your thighs, hands caressing his face. 

You’re hyperventilating, choking back sobs as tears fall down your panicked face. Your brothers eyes dart around fearfully, overwhelmed and scared. You don’t look up as your mother runs over, crying out as she spots your brothers state. 

He brings a hand up to yours resting on his cheek, he briefly meets your eyes before looking to your parents. “Dad, I want to go home” He stutters. Your father nods, choking out reassurance. Neteyam’s eyes darted around before landing on your father. “Dad I-“ his words falter as you watch the light in his eyes fade. 

You watch as his chest stops expanding, his body going limp. You couldn’t stop the tears that fell from your eyes as your mother started to cry, screaming and shaking Neteyam’s shoulders. Your body wracks with sobs as you hunch over, pulling Neteyam closer to you. You stare at his as his head lays in the crook of your arm, hand still resting on his cheek. 

The white noise that’s fills your senses blocks out any other sound. You can vaguely make out the conversation your parents are having, your sister are still stuck on the ship. Jake orders your and Lo’ak go stay with Neteyam as Neytiri mounts her Ikran. You lower Neteyam to the ground as Lo’ak protests.. 

“Dad I want to go with you” Lo’ak murmurs, on the verge of tears. He stares at your brother for a moment before muttering “you’ve done enough” 

You can almost hear the crack of Lo’ak’s heart breaking, you step forward, tears still streaming down your face. “Dad please I can do this” Your voice is breathless and desperate, shaking with the hiccups of your sobs. 

He holds his hand out for your to stop “Y/n.” your blood freezes at how cold his voice it. “Don’t make this any worse” He states, punching a hole right through your heart. You start to sob as he turns to follow Spider, intense sobs wracking through your body.  

Lo’ak turns to Tsireya, telling her to stay before running off after the ship. Tsireya holds you as you fall to your knees, crying and reaching out to hold your brother again. 

You hold onto your brother, you just hold him close. You can’t help but feel that it’s all your fault, you’re the one who ran off with Lo’ak to see Payakan, you insisted on going back to saving Spider. You were the one who hesitated to jump into the exit, Neteyam rushing out in the line of fire, pulling you along to get you to safety.  

You think back to how you’re father would scold you for bringing Neteyam along into your dangerous adventures, how your brother was always right about things going wrong, but the one to bear the burden of it. 

All you can do is hold him. 

You whisper to him, you tell him stories of your childhood together. “I remember how we used to fly together, you hated how reckless I was in the mountains but you still stayed with me, I cannot remember a moment you weren’t by my side when I needed you” you choke out, your voice cracking and going hoarse.  

You don’t know how long you sat there holding your brother, but as the eclipse passed you heard the sloshing in the water. You don’t look up but you here Tuk running over, she sits next to your brother, she grabs his hand and places it on her cheek, loud cries escaping her lips. Slowly you lay Neteyam down, your mother taking your place when you stand up. 

You stumble backwards, holding your hands to your chest. You look down, trying to regulate your breathing. “Y/n” You dad whispers, placing a hand on your shoulder. You raise your head and look to him, a pained look on his face. 

He stays silent, your head lowers. There was never silence between you, only when he was disappointed in you. “I’m sorry sir” You whisper.  

He reaches out to you but your wrap your arms around yourself, tears falling down your face again. You glance back up to him and you fall, you can’t help but cry out to him. “Dad, I should be dead” You choke out “I really should be” 

He steps forward “No” he replied breathlessly, he places a hand on your arm but your body wracks with the incoming sobs. “He can do thing, he can hunt a-and he can fight, and I just do nothing” your legs feel like jello, you fall to your knees, Jake dropping to his knee to face you. “I can’t do anything”  

You hear him protesting, trying to comfort you but all you can do is shake your head. “I’m nothing i’m nothing” you repeat like a broken record, loosing your voice as you cry. He pulls you into his arms, “Y/n no don’t say that” he whispers in your ear, tightening his hold on you. 

“I did this I DID THIS” you babble, he shakes his head, placing his hand on the back of your head. “babygirl this is not your fault” he fully sits down, pulling you into his lap. You bury your head into his chest, shaking your head as you cry. “You always told me to think, to listen to him and stay out of trouble” your voice croaked, sore from the hiccups and crying. “but I couldn’t and now he’s-“ you’re interrupted by a wail that rips from your throat. 

You can feel his hold on you tightening, hear the sharp breaths he takes to keep his composure. “ Listen to me baby girl” his voice is impossible quiet, but strong “this is not your fault” he places a kiss on your cheek, keeping his face pressed against yours. 

You pull back, looking at him in the eyes, he places his hand on your cheek “I see you, daughter.” His words are like a wrecking ball, anything but soft and breaking down your walls all at once. In an instant, your arms are wrapped around him and your crying into his neck, gently, he wraps his arms around you, cradling you like you’re a baby again. 

“Babygirl, I love you” he whispers. You know the words have great meaning, connecting him back to his human origins. You balance your breathing; tears starting to slow.  

You pull your head back to look at him, he gently places a kiss on your forehead. You lay your head back on his chest, your eyes widened when you noticed his knife sash. Wrapped around the band and onto the base was a cord you weaved, the first one you ever presented to your family. It’s messy, barely what you meant it to be, but he has it tightly wrapped around his satchel, right where it crosses his heart. 

He places his hand on your cheek “I’m sorry if I haven't shown it enough, but I love you so much” 

#avatar: the way of water #avatar #avatar twow #jake sully #protective jake sully #sully reader #jake sully tries to be a good dad #he fails ngl #daddy issues #sully family #angst

[wooobuddyletsgetnasty]

not me back on my castlevania bullshit. no one look at me 🫠

somebody better tell me why they made this man so beautiful, fuck i have to lay down

anyways don’t read under the cut if you’re a minor because it’s pure sin and i will manifest and steal your eyes from their sockets thx

thinkin ab first times with adrian mmmmmm this is long because i have no self control and this is purely for me, just self indulgent rambling bullshit

⚠️: past SA, restraints, intercourse (fem bodied reader), mentions of anxiety uhhh i think that’s it

literally not me thinkin ab finally getting enough nerve to bed adrian for the first time, but noticing the hesitance in his form as he hovers over you, cock brushing against your slick cunt in a way that’s inadvertently teasing— the bastard.

but you can tell— he’s not ready, so you tell him, ignoring the burn in your loins, “adrian— we can stop.”

he kisses you once, twice, thrice— and then his sliver-lined tongue is lapping against yours in a way that sends your hips rocking against his in a jerky tempo— but it’s enough to make him shudder, hands tangling in your hair, sweet whines of your names falling from his pretty lips. you almost change your mind, deciding that you need adrian to just fuck you— but you aren’t the one so anxious you’re shaking.

you’re not sure where the thought comes from, but you’re speaking before you realize, “would you feel better if my hands were restrained?”

it’s what leads you to where you are now, arms spread open and immobile against his bed posts, tied up all tight and neat with some rope adrian had conjured. your thighs clench tight against his lean hips, garbled noises pulling from deep in your chest with each hit of his cock against your tender innermost parts.

you’re going to be so fucking sore tomorrow, but the slack jawed awe on his face as he watches his cock spear your saccharine insides open makes it worth it— you’d walk on hot coals if it meant that look on his beautiful features would stay.

and adrian— he’s melting. sweltering heat traveling up from the base of his spine, tingling down to his toes— you’re beautiful, and oh so helpless against the slow assault he has launched against you.

he’s whispering your name against the peak of your breast until it aches, and just when you start to whine he moves to the opposite— worshiping you like you’re a deity, a goddess that came to bless him and only him. part of him wonders if you are, the gods had to have made you for just for him. the noise you make when his fangs drag against the delicate skin of your throat is more than enough proof.

you’re not sure what makes you so desperate— maybe the honied eyes peering up at your face, or the way his hips have lost their tempo— lewd noises echoing loudly against the stone walls, but suddenly, you’re pleading— but for what, you aren’t sure, “please, please, please— adrian, gods please.”

that’s all it takes for him to grip at the ropes, one at a time, tugging at them until your arms are free— your gaze levels his, before your voice rings in the room, a breathy echo of his name that makes him keen yours back with the same whisper of need.

he moves quick, mouth meeting yours in a messy kiss that makes your toes curl, your teeth clacking against his, and he heaves into your mouth, “touch me, fuck— please, touch me.”

you do— gods, you do.

one hand tangles into his auric hair— tugging at the roots until he hisses at you, eyes rolling back into his skull, hand gripping at the meat of your thigh to grind your pelvis against his until you wince from the deep press of him at your womb. your other hand traces a sweet line down his spine, palm laying flat against his hip, guiding him to rock into you deeper— to fuck you deeper.

uhhhhhhhh

ok bye 🫣

#send me asks #yes yes yes #castlevania x reader #castlevania #alucard x reader #adrian tepes #adrian tepes x reader #alucard

[r0und3bitch]

𝕭𝖋𝖋’𝖘 - 𝕴 𝕯𝖎𝖉 𝕾𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝕭𝖆𝖉

𝕽𝖊𝖕𝖚𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝕰𝖗𝖆 𝖀𝖓𝖎𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖊 ✰ 「𝖕𝖍𝖆𝖘𝖊 𝖔𝖓𝖊」

summary: you did something bad with your best friend… but why’s it feel so good?

warnings: 18+ only!!! best friends pairing, exhibitionist kink, cheating, partying, underage drinking, sassiness (lol) 

notes: from the vault drafts ✨

word count: 1.2k 

“Fuck—someone’s going to hear us. Ohhhh my god.”

“Shhhh, need you to relax” as another terribly stifled moan escapes you. “Thought you would like that.”

Like that — you did indeed, as his mouth attacked your most delicate needy area, feeling his tongue work against your pulsing clit, slow circles turning rapid. He’d pulled you away from the roaring party happening beneath you, discreetly yanking you into the small bathroom upstairs as he whispered something in your ear about a mirror.

“Right there! Right there, Rafe—“ His entire mouth ruining you as your cheeks puff out. Feeling one of his thick ring clad fingers slide into your tight hole, overstimulating you to the max. You’ve never had a man touch you like this and the result if obvious

“You’re a mess, sweetheart.”

“Your mess— cause of you.” 

The words made Rafe’s eyes turn dark before seeing them roll back into his head, only the top of his face visible as the bottom half completely devours you. 

“Then why is your boyfriend downstairs right now, hmm? Hasn’t even glanced at you once all night.”

Rafe doesn’t bother mentioning that he heard your so called boyfriend downstairs talking shit to his friends. That he’d heard him in passing by trying to make his way to the keg, the vile words only to be followed by your name was all it took before he was finding you on the other end of the property. Coming up swiftly with a hand around your waist, already guiding you discreetly away upstairs. 

The pout forming on your lips at the truth of it combined with his own attached to you, making a promise. 

“I’d never…”

You gaze up into the full length mirror on the wall, eyes settling on the image of him on his knees in front of, devouring you whole and fully lose your mind, letting any hope of rationale or sense fade away. 

Him, your boy, your actual boy on his knees before you, giving you his full and undivided attention is truly a sight to behold. Him, one hand wrapped tightly around your thigh, the other coming up to pinch your nipple between his fingers, only making you scream louder. Your hands, clutched down so hard that your knuckles are white, shake violently against the counter stop when you see those icy blue eyes catch yours. 

Losing yourself in the blue depths; pleasure overtaking every single part of your body as Rafe gladly laps up your offering, taking every single ounce you gave to give him. 

You’ve barely ridden it out before you’re mumbling incoherently, reaching for him.  

“I need you, Rafe.” as he chuckes at your eagerness, causing your brow to furrow even though he’s already pulling his pants down, raising up to your level. “What do you want me to beg for it?”

You will. You would do anything. 

“Never.” as he slides his thickness into you, feeling it stretch you out in the most intense way as he lets out an elongated groan. 

“Ohhhh my god, this pussy. You feel so fucking good. Don’t be shy baby, I want everyone at this party to hear how good I’m fucking you, how damn good you’re taking me…”

As if on cue, you hear the sounds of fists knocking on the door against the loud moans Rafe’s drawing out of you, breathy pants filling the small space as you hear his skin smack against yours, not slowing down as he yells out a strained response. 

“Someone’s in here!”

“Rafe—“ as you grab as his shirt, balling the material into your fists. “You feel so fucking deep in me, baby” you encourage him on. “Mmmmmm fuck.”

You lean slightly back so Rafe can get a better view of himself sliding in and out of you in the mirror in front of him. When he looks up his entire voice catches in his throat and comes out a snarl. 

“Fucking Christ, Y/N” his grip on your hips is relentless as he ruts into even faster now. “You feel unreal.”

Your head spins at his words, feeling like your skin is on fire when a thunder like boom rattles from the door again several times, Rafe violently screaming his response while never tearing his eyes from you. 

“FIND ANOTHER FUCKING BATHROOM!”

There’s voices on the other end of the door but the observation doesn’t seep deeply enough into your brain for it to become an actual thought, the feeling of Rafe filling you whole the only capacity in your brain. 

“You like being my little slut, don’t you? Hmm? You like knowing there’s people out there hearing you get fucked like this by your best friend while your boyfriends downstairs?“

His words should bother you, should riddle you with guilt. But they don’t. 

Once Rafe had slightly tapped into your dirty talk kink, there was no turning back, driving full force ahead whenever given the opportunity. 

“Yeah, baby? You just needed that dick so bad, hmm? Been begging me to fuck this tight pussy of yours the second we got here. Don’t think I didn’t see you looking at me the second you showed up here with him.”

“I can’t help it, Rafey.”

That word, used solely to irritate him throughout the course of growing up. A word once hated now made his cock twitch when uttered from the woman whose pussy he was currently buried into. 

“You like being bad don’t you?” 

“Yes, Daddy. Mmmmm, I touched myself earlier thinking of you, right before he picked me up. I couldn’t help it.”

“Shit—You’re gonna be the fuckin death of me, Y/N. Spread your legs open further for me baby, I want to feel every part of you”

You gasp loudly when he hits that spot deep within you, watching his eyes roll to the back of his head, the sight forming that pit your stomach. 

“Don’t stop, Rafe. I’m fucking begging you, please god don’t stop.”

“Fuck—hold on tight to me baby, I’m about to fuckin destroy you.”

“Ohhhhhhh my god!” You’re literally screaming at this point as Rafe fucks the life out of you, dick moving in and out of you at a relentless pace as your body is pounded back into the counter as neither of you even remotely attempt to keep quiet as both come undone, messy sounds erupting into a chorus of filth. 

Not a minute later, the proof of your actions still blatantly obvious, Rafe pushes the door open, walking hand in hand with you out of the bathroom, greeting the now long line of people gathered in a line for the bathroom. 

Among the irritated faces, Sarah Cameron stands with her arms crossed, disgusted look met with the worlds heaviest eye roll as the two of you walk past her. 

“By the way Y/N, I saw Dylan downstairs. Ya know, your boyfriend - bet he would love to chime in on this...” 

Rafe looks over to see that rare devilish grin take over your face, feeling you squeeze his hand that’s tangled with your own as you throw your head back at his sister laughing, resolve clear. 

“Dylan who?”

Now all he thinks about is me I can feel the flames on my skin Crimson red paint on my lips If a man talks shit, then I owe him nothing I don't regret it one bit, 'cause he had it coming…

They say I did something bad But why's it feel so good? Most fun I ever had And I'd do it over and over and over again if I could It just felt so good

#bffs #Rafe #Rafe x you #Rafe x y/n #Rafe Cameron imagine #Rafe OBX #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe fic #Rafe outerbanks #OBX #Rafe imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron #drew starkey

[dangermousie]

The fact that there isn't just one but TWO airing Turkish shows about big bad mob men who will do anything to keep their damaged OTP who keeps saying she doesn't want them tho she does is a gift from god.

The way Farah, abused and mistreated by her monster of an ex keeps lying she's happy and etc etc to be with her kid but also to protect Tahir who the monster threatened to kill mmmmm...

She says she turned him in to the cops, this is after she demanded divorce, and he still won't believe.

He still finds her and begs begs begs her to tell him the truth, because he knows she would not be like that and it's just...

Like he's BEGGING! Turkish shows know there is nothing more delicious than a 6'3 wall of muscle killer utterly destroyed by and for one delicate woman mmmmmm.

And she brains him and leaves, calling him "my only love" and aaaaa the DELICIOUSNESS IS BEYOND!!!!

#adim farah #turkish tv #engin akyürek #demet ozdemir

[inexplicablymine]

WIP WEDNESDAY (shockingly actually on a Wednesday)

Was tagged by @celaestis1 (kisses dear kisses) and so I’m sharing some more Mr. Bodypillow because I am being secretive about the other projects I’m working on (hehe)

So Henry lets Alex “have his moment” which just consists of him wiggling around even further like he is going to burrow inside Henry and make a home in his chest, before settling more tangled up than before.

“Moment achieved,” Alex says quietly before turning his hand over and letting their fingers lightly drag together before placing a delicate kiss so soft and you might miss it, against Henry’s palm.

There is a moment where the entire world focuses to a pinpoint. Where the sounds outside of the very isolated screaming in your brain silence. All Henry can hear with the brush of Alex’s lips against the rough skin of his palm, filled with calluses from writing poems about boys who could do just this, is his heartbeat. It roars against his ears an unsteady rhythm, thumping against his ribcage an animal that has been hurt so many times it wants to flee.

Instead of letting the animal out he dives deeper, pulls Alex’s tangled fingers up to his own lips and lightly gives a few soft brushes before holding their hands directly against his heart.

Alex just makes an “mmmmmm” sound humming into the cavity inside Henry that he has now occupied.

Tagging @orchidscript @rmd-writes @heartitinthesilence @historicallysam to take a gander on some WIP!! (Also literally anyone else who fancies I really want to read those glorious lil snippets you are willing to share)

#red white and royal blue #ao3 #ao3 author #ao3 fanfic #rwrb #alex claremont diaz #firstprince #henry fox mountchristen windsor #inexplicablymine #Mr. Bodypillow #fanfiction #ao3 wip

[hoes4hoseok]

txt as 1989

look who's on top of her shit! me! anywaysss lmk what you think, as always! <3

hueningkai as welcome to new york

"the lights are so bright but they never blind me"

this song is optimistic & bright & so is hueningkai imo!!

the energy he brings is just so 🤩 (esp in blue hour) & I can see him being the guy to romanticize a new city

also, I love this song & disagree with the haters 🤌

beomgyu as all you had to do is stay

"had me in the palm of your hand, then why'd you have to go and lock me out when I let you in?"

this is wild card that's based mostly on the production rather than the lyrics

this song makes me think of loserxlover or 0x1=lovesong era beomgyu though. no justification just vibes.

yeonjun as wildest dreams

"he's so tall & handsome as hell, he's so bad but he does it so well"

mmmmmm is it mostly for being hot? maybe. but also...try telling me it doesn't match him

it's just such a powerful song production-wise as well & I think it matches him!!

I can just imagine yeonjun being the type that you date knowing he'll leave you in the end or that it won't work out (plz star in a movie with me yeonjun)

I debated giving him style & giving sunghoon wildest dreams instead but I think this works better in my head...lmk what you think!

taehyun as I know places

"let them say what they want, we won't hear it"

I gave taehyun delicate before and I think I have the same reason for choosing I know places.

"he’ll put effort into his image, but when it comes to his family, friends, & relationships—yeah that’s none of ur business 😤😤" it still applies!

it's more urgent than delicate though, which somehow fits taehyun even better in my head.

soobin as clean

"rain came pouring down when I was drowning, that's when I could finally breathe"

once, I wrote a fic about soobin inspired by butterflies by kacey musgraves (that will never see the light of day again) & I chose it for a similar reason—soobin would be great boyfriend.

clean is about finally getting over a toxic situation (specifically a relationship) & soobin, imo, would feel like this song does. a relief.

enhypen version ☆ lover version ☆ masterlist

#hoes4hoseok #tomorrow x together #choi yeonjun #yeonjun #soobin txt #yeonjun txt #tomorrow x together reactions #txt reactions #txt fluff #txt imagines #hueningkai txt #hueningkai #taehyun #kang taehyun #beomgyu #choi beomgyu #soobin #choi soobin #beomgyu txt #taehyun txt

[mulberrimouse]

Spending a fall day with Jake!! Tiny blurb, no warnings, pure fluff!!

Jake x Gender neutral reader :)

Severely unedited so apologies for any spelling/grammar issues!

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

You were standing in the kitchen as you waited for the oven to finish pre-heating. Jake suggested baking cookies to eat while watching a Halloween movie because, in his words, "Tis the season, darling!" Obviously, you were 100% on board. Fall was your favorite season and you couldn't resist baking with Jake. You guys didn't live together yet, but it was near in the future and doing this felt so domestic already.

Ding

Just ask you opened the oven door, Jake walked into the kitchen wearing the new sweater you got him. It had black cats and pumpkins lined on a cream white background. He looked absolutely adorable and you couldn't stop yourself from smiling every time you saw him wear it.

He waited until you set the tray and shut the oven door before wrapping his arms around your torso and resting his head on the back of your shoulder.

"Mmmmmm hello, sweetness." He took a deep breath in before he spoke. "You smell like vanilla and cinnamon. And you."

"Oh? What do I smell like?"

"Probably the closest thing to heaven."

You laughed at the comment before he detached himself from you to go turn on the TV. You shivered as your body struggled to adapt the the temperature. He was a very warm person naturally, you were not. He smiled at you before reaching down and taking his sweater off and handing it to you.

"Jake! You're gonna fucking freeze!"

"Honey, you know that couldn't be farther from the truth. Plus, the oven is on and it'll heat up the house. I'll be fine."

You rolled your eyes as you took the sweater. Your vision was obstructed for only a few seconds but, never the less, Jake was right in from of you as soon as the sweater was on.

"Ohhhh aren't you just the prettiest girl?"

You smiled and felt blush creep up your cheeks, which Jake noticed, ever the observer that he was. He grabbed your hand and pulled you into him.

"Dance with me, pretty girl?"

"Always, pretty boy."

This time, he was the one blushing and you reveled in the feeling it gave you. Your heart swelled and you felt giddy. It wasn't often Jake was bashful. Yes, he was quiet, but he was also confident and a rock-god at this is point so there wasn't much that shook him. It felt so good knowing that you could make him even a little bit nervous.

You had been dancing with Jake in the kitchen for a while and there was about a minute left on the timer. He twirled you before holding you close. His left hand was on your hip while the right cupped your jaw, tilting your head so you would keep eye contact with him. You felt his waist in your handed warm and smooth. You felt the plushness of his skin. His thumb swiped back and forth on your cheek before he leaned down just enough that his lips brushed over yours.

"You are an absolute angel, sweetness." Then, he kissed you.

It was slow and gentle but you could feel the emotion radiating off of him. You felt yourself melt into him, your knees weakening slightly. He prodded his tongue against yours, letting you taste him, before pulling away. He left a delicate kiss on your nose and smiled before walking out of the kitchen to set up the movie.

Ding

You pulled out the cookies to let them cool on a rack. Eventually, you brought them into the living room on a player decorated with green vines and pumpkins. You sat on the couch, legs swung over Jake's with a blanket around you both. You don't remember exactly when but you started to fall asleep in his arms. His hand was running through your hair as the other one was rubbing up and down your thigh.

"I love you, my sweet girl." was the last thing you heard before your eyes shut and you fell fully asleep.

#jake kiszka #jake kiszka fic #jake gvf #jake greta van fleet #fall aesthetic #autumn

[skullsobs]

for the character ask thing, but the unicorn/Amalthea >:)

HIIII THANK U LIL <3

first impression: I watched tlu when I was like.. four so nothing more complex than omg cool horse

Impression now: Amalthea is so fun I kinda love her. Intermixed with the grief and regret she's so petty and vain and I enjoy seeing that compared to the other characters in tlu. Also I can never get over how much I love her design

Favorite moment: oohohhhhohoh for the film probably when she's talking to shmendrick after mommy fortuna is killed ("I can feel sorrow, but it's not the same thing.." vomits cries screams etc) or when she talks to the butterfly. for the book probably when she's talking to Molly and being all upset at lir and shmendrick. Idky I just love how she worded her dismay

Idea for a story: mmmmmm probably something relating to her interacting w other unicorns, mainly after the plot of the film. Since Amalthea is the last we never get to see her interacting with her own species organically and I wanna see that!!!! Also with how her humanity isolates her from the herd

Unpopular opinion: idk if it's unpopular but I kind of dislike when people over exaggerate Amalthea's grace (ie fanart). Especially if it's her post movie/main climax. Beagle mentions that her grace is threatened while journeying and she isn't as beautiful nor delicate. Then again the movie deliberately enhances her grace....idk I'm just picky

Favorite relationship: whatevr she has with Molly. I don't care if it's platonic or romantic they have something and I love it. I would go into detail but I would very quickly delve into fanfiction territory

Favorite headcannon: she continued to struggle with night terrors after the plot of the film. Its minor but I think abt it a lot. Girl be fucked in the head!!!

Thank youuuu again <333 I think too much about the horse movie

#tlu #asks #ask game

[edward-snowdenhands]

mmmmmm, delicous burrows update

#i forgot how much i enjoyed this story

[paterday]

Mmm screwdriver delicous mmmmmm

[terrainofheartfelt]

mmmmmm okay listen up beloveds, besties, and bastards [affectionate], I want to tell you about a policy of mine I keep re: fic & fic commenting called Compliments Only.

So, I can't take credit for originating said policy: my roommate in undergrad told me about it. We're both singers, and if you're not in the performing arts world, then know that in classical singing (or any kind of performance really) working up a piece takes weeks, if not months of preparation, which when you're in school, includes singing for people in your studio on a regular basis. This is helpful both ways: as a performer, you get feedback from your peers, and as a listener, you learn how to give critical & constructive feedback -- that post that's been circulating about metacognition and creativity? that's this!

But, like anything, there's come a point when preparation for a performance just has to be finished. So my roommate told me that when she's standing up in studio class right before an audition or competition or recital, she'd ask for "Compliments Only." Because when you are a day or week out from a major performance, what you need more than anything is to just practice the act of performing for people, critical feedback is no longer constructive because you've taken the piece as far as it is able to go. When my roommate told me about this I thought "Wait, that's genius," and then I realized it's something my own voice teacher had been doing the entire time I'd been working with her, she just didn't give it a name like Roommate did.

and it's true in any art. with any creative work, one reaches a point in which they cannot/will not/don't want to take it any further. and at that point, unless they state otherwise, it's Compliments Only time. which brings me back to fic.

When I post something out into the ether of the internet, be it here or on ao3, that is as far as I am going to take a piece of my writing. I have worked as hard as I am going to on it, and now I want to share it. My preparation is complete, and therefore, my posting is not a request or invitation for criticism, because it is past the point of being constructive for me.

So, my comments policy (and I love getting comments, I love it so much, y'all have no idea) is Compliments Only, and I would venture a guess that most fic writers on this site feel the same way. If a writer wants critical feedback, they will ask for it, because they know themselves and their work better than anyone else, and if that kind of feedback will be constructive or not.

So, when you're commenting, keep in mind that fic writer's are doing this for fun, and for free, and that we're delicate creatures showing you a bit of our soul, and hold yourself to a Compliments Only policy.

#and that doesn't mean you can't go crazy and detailed in the comments #bc I also love that #see that metacognition post #you know just...don't give unsolicited advice #this is something i've just been thinking a lot about #and dm'ing S about #and I know some other writer friends have been thinking about it too so... #don't get me wrong most messages I get are absolutely lovely. but there are some that do have me messaging S like #?????

[late-to-the-party-81]

Bucky Barnes Appreciation Week - Day 4

AN: Hooray, hooray, it's his birthday - 105 years young! - Although my story is set post TFATWS so he's 108 in that. This story references the birthday drabble I did for Sam Wilson's birthday in Samtember.

Un-beta'd yet again, but mood boards and banners still by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

Link to my master list here!

Pairing: Bucky x Sam

Word Count: approx 600

CW: EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT - Blow Job and Body worship. MINORS DNI

For Sam’s birthday, last year, Bucky had gone all out, somehow both disturbing, and titillating the birthday-boy, with a sexy drag act based on Marilyn Monroe. The aftermath had been, well, intense. And loud.

Bucky had been wondering for days if Sam was going to try and get his own back, but didn’t think a drag act was his boyfriend’s style. However, when the morning of the 10th dawned he was pleasantly surprised. Most mornings he was woken by Sam, getting up to go on his run, dropping a soft kiss to his lips and telling him to go back to sleep. This morning was different though.

Bucky woke up languidly, soft warm tickles on his thighs, delicate touches brushing over his abs and hips. His cock twitched inside his briefs and he felt the warm breath from Sam’s chuckle ghost across his flesh.

“Happy Birthday, baby.”

Sam’s voice was low and sweet, like molasses on a hot summer day. Two sets of fingers gripped around the waistband of Bucky’s briefs, drawing the fabric down. Bucky’s breath hitched, his arousal growing as sleep slipped away from him.

Sam’s fingers gripped Bucky's hips as he nuzzled into his boyfriend's crotch, dropping small kisses over the rapidly growing erection he found there. When he licked a stripe up it, Bucky moaned, his head tipping back and his hands going to Sam’s hair.

“Mmmmmm… fuck, Sammy…”

Sam just hummed and flicked his tongue over the soft spongy head of the treat in front of him, having to use a lot of strength to hold Bucky’s hips still. He took his time, enjoying pleasuring Bucky slowly and gently. It was almost five minutes of light and gentle teasing before he finally engulfed his lover with his mouth, earning the most delicious moans in response.

He slowly slid up and down the length, trying to relax his jaw as much as possible to accommodate Bucky’s girth. God, the way he loved to worship this man. One of his hands slid down to gently cradle the heavy sac, massaging delicately.

“Oh God, Sam! Fuck…so good…”

Sam pressed his tongue against the vein running up the underside of Bucky’s shaft, moving it in time with his hands and sucking in between, building a gentle rhythm. With his middle finger he started to press just behind Bucky’s balls, stimulating his prostate from the outside. Bucky’s hips started to roll in time, his breathing picking up, and sweet murmurs dripping from his mouth. Sam lifted off for a moment, smiling at Bucky’s needy whine.

“Come on, Sugar, give it to me.”

He returned to his ministrations and it was only a minute or so before Sam felt Bucky’s balls draw up, felt the thighs either side of his head start to tremble, before Bucky poured down his throat, in what felt like an endless long wave.

Bucky keened at the intensity of the feeling, unsure if he was coming over and over again, or whether it hadn’t even stopped yet, before collapsing, replete into the softness of the bed.

Sam crawled up Bucky’s body, stopping to press kisses to scars here and moles there, before looking him in the eye.

“Hi, lover. You enjoy that?”

“Can you wake me up like that every day? It’s much nicer than getting all cold because you’ve abandoned me for a run.”

“If I did that every day, we’d never get out of bed.”

“I have absolutely no problem with that.”

They grinned at each other, before sinking into a deep, languid kiss. It was probably going to take them a while to get out of bed today and they were both on board with that plan.

Tag List: @christywantspizza @jobean12-blog @tinnedowl @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky @tuiccim @beelicious-barnes @yarnforbrains @sidepartskinnyjeans @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @turbolisedcomet @poppunksnowwhite @buckybarnesweek2022

#bucky barnes week 22 #bbweek22 #buckybarnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky x sam #sambucky #bucky barnes imagines #late writes #late to the party 81 #happy birthday bucky!!!!

[sofiatheicequeen]

Sun and Moon x Reader Chapter Twenty Six

⌨️Author⌨️ note: Me and 💤Editor💤 are making a Q/A! It will be on TikTok and Tumblr. My tumblr is Sofia The Ice Queen and 💤Editor💤’s TikTok is sketchy_vib3s! If you have questions, now you can get some answers! :D

Y/n P.O.V

I wake up feeling groggy.

"Ughhhhhhhhh, I feel like I'm dying…" I look around and see no one’s here. I get up from the bed and start to walk around.

"Where am I?" As soon as the words leave my mouth, I remember this is the staff dorm.

‘Why am I here and what happened? I think I'm going to take a hot shower.’ I head to the shower and turn it on, standing around waiting for it to warm up. I pull off my current articles of clothing and toss them into a messy pile on the bathroom floor. Freeing myself of my cloth prison, I step into the shower and slide the door closed.

"Mmmmmm… this feels sooooo nice." I say, sliding down and curling into a ball. I feel the the warm water hit my head and roll down my back. "I feel like it's been forever since I've had a shower." I rub soap on my body and wash it off. I grab the 2-in-1 hair soap mix and rub it through my hair, rinsing it out and attempting to get up but my head starts to feel fuzzy and I watch my vision go black.

Moon P.O.V.

I get back into the room and see that Y/n is no longer in the spot I left them. I search the room frantically, unable to find anything. Right when I was about to call Sun for help, I heard a thud and the sound of running water. I ran into the bathroom kicking the door down. I look around the bathroom and see nothing. I check the shower and I find them passed out on the ground. I pick them up quickly and hold them. I shift my hand on their face and notice blood trickling down the side. I grab a cloth and an ice pack, wrap the ice pack in it, and I replace the ice pack by placing it on their head. After that I take a cloth and wet it to wipe the blood off their head. I look at their face as I delicately hold it in my hand and blush.

'I love them so much.’I think to myself, pausing for a moment. ‘I should get back to cleaning the wound.' I clean their wound and put a bandage on it to cover it up.

"You should really be more careful." I whisper to them. I keep the ice pack on their head holding it in place as I kiss their head and give them a moondrop.

"That should help them with the pain." I say to myself, holding them in my arms.

"What am I supposed to do with you, dumb dumb?" I say giggling to myself. I gently redress them, stand up and walk them over to the bed, setting them down gently, making sure that they are comfortable. I set everything in place, cover them up with the blankets and kiss them on the cheek.

"Starlight, I love you so much."

Sun P.O.V

I walk around the Fazcade when I hear Eclipse sulking in the mindscape.

"Eclipse, will you just shut up? You’re being annoying. You can't throw a fit just because you can't see Y/n."

"But- . . . hmph."

"God damn it, you little shit. If only I were allowed to seal you away again and not get in trouble. Why did you have to reveal yourself at all? You shouldn't have even been programmed. I wish you never existed, then everything would be fine and I would have Y/n to myself."

“Why are you like this? I have done nothing to you at all and you treat me so terribly, like I’m just some abomination.”

“That's because you are! I can’t believe they had to add you to my system, I could do things myself without you. You are just something that should have never existed. Don’t make me mute you again.”

“PLEASE! I-I mean- please, don’t…” He stutters.

“That's what I thought, you nuisance.” Eclipse shutters. I smirk at this. “Yeah, I just had to put you back in your place, you little bitch.” I mumbled to myself. I watch him shrink back and curl into himself.

“Remember: I am the owner of this body so I call all the shots, got it?” He slowly nods in response, not willing to make eye contact. I then turn my attention to one of the security bots patrolling the area. I immediately feel my senses begin to fade.

“What the fuck are you doing?!'' I yelled to Eclipse.

“I’m taking control and you're not going to stop me!” I feel my body start to shift into Eclipse’s appearance.

“NO, YOU CAN'T! THIS IS MY BODY!” I say, trying to fight him. But instead I’ve been pushed into the mind scape. “DAMN IT… why can’t anything go my way?” I start to punch the air.

“Fuck it, I’ll be back in control soon.” I then hear his voice in the distance.

“Heh, that’s what you think.” he says then everything around me goes silent. I then try to yell at him but my voice won’t come out. I then think to myself as I start to panic.

‘Did he just cut off all communications with me??!’ I grab my head and start to panic fully as tears form in my eyes.

‘This can’t be happening to me!’ I curl into a ball.

‘How long will he keep me here…?’ I cry to myself.

Eclipse P.O.V

“How weak, it took me a month to start crying. This is what you get for controlling me and keeping me in the dark for all these years.” I wander around the pizza plex for a while, trying to get a feel of the layout. While I still had a little bit of time, I walked over to the DJ area.

“Ay, what’s up Dj Dude? It’s me, Eclipse, remember me?” I happily ask DJ Music Man.

“Who are you, little man?” He asks, confused.

“It’s me, Eclipse, we met like 20 years ago? You remember the incident where a dude lost his arm?” I use the only thing people know me for.

“Oh, you're the crazy fella, welcome!” DJ waves slowly.

⌨️Author⌨️: Oh the silence is real are you asleep.

💤Editor💤: No I'm fine

*Not even two seconds later they asleep*

~⌨️Author⌨️

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