#Penny you're amazing!

[glitchadeli]

Part 2 of this post ~ Lenny.. you're so gay dude LMAO

#the amazing world of gumball #tawog #my tawog art #glitch's next gen tawog #penball next gen #even though penny and gum aren't together i'll still tag cas as a penball child lol #my next gens #my next gen #my tawog next gen #my tawog oc #tawog next gen #tawog next generation #tawog next gen oc #Lenny's got it BAD dude #he's so in love #when you're so in love you can't stop drawing your crush

[petsdenonne]

Accidental

(Part 2: Here)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT 18+, nudes, Fluff, Graphic sexual content, friends to lovers.

Word Count: 1,185

Summary: When you accidentally send something to Jason that you're not supposed to he doesn't react the way you were expecting.

Authors note: I read @dxckgrxsonx ‘s Dickpic!Jason x Reader series and it sent me absolutely feral 💕 I had to write something! Seriously, go read it, it’s amazing. Here, look, I even made it easy for you.

✨MASTERLISTS✨

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

oh god.

oh god, no.

Surely you hadn't...no, surely not...

As your finger hovered over the screen of your phone you could see that you had in fact done what you hoped you hadn't.

You had accidentally sent a nude to Jason instead of the man you had meant to. Why did he have to message you then!? It had bumped your chat with him to the top of the list and in your pre-occupied haze you hadn't noticed the name and contact photo at the top of your screen before you sent the image.

Fingers moving quickly to unsend the photo before he saw- oh, no, please no.

The 'sent' under the photo had changed to 'seen'

Bile and panic rose up into your throat and you tried to swallow it down as you threw your phone onto the bed beside you. You had to see him tomorrow! Bruce had invited you to the stupid family BBQ that they hosted at the manor every summer, since your father had died Bruce had taken you under his wing causing you to be an honorary member of the Waynes. Maybe you could pretend you were sick, tell Bruce you had a cold or a stomach bug? no, he'd send Alfred over with meds and soup. Maybe you could fake your death and run off to Bosnia? No, he'd know. He was the Bat after all.

Maybe you could kidnap Jason and brainwash him, cause him to forget that he had seen it and then delete the image from the chat- ding.

Your phones text chime ripped your attention back over to it, wrapping yourself tightly in your duvet you reach over and gingerly bring the phone back towards you so that you can read the message. Whatever he was going to say you could deal with, you'd dealt with Karens during the Black Friday sales when you worked in retail and you were sure nothing could be worse than dealing with that. Preparing yourself mentally to deal with the embarrassment of having to apologise and grovel with him you throw the phone back down again in frustration, causing it to bounce off of the bed and onto the floor, the screen chipping, when you see that it was just a spam text.

-----

By the next morning Jason still hadn't acknowledged the photo in any sense, that was a good thing, right? You were both adults. Adults have needs.

Even so you wanted to avoid him as best as you could, planning to go out. Say hi to Bruce and Alfred, thank them for being invited again like every year, grab a plate of food, and then hide somewhere to eat it.

Walking into the manor, having unlocked the front door with your key, you headed through the halls until you reached the garden. A small radio playing the playlist of whoever had managed to jump onto it first. Saying your hellos and thanks you piled upon your plate with chicken and steak, as well as a few things from the table spread like a healthy portion of Alfreds homemade potato salad before retreating into the manor to find somewhere to eat it.

As you settled in the library, closing the door behind you to pace slowly in front of the bookcases as you ate, your eyes skimming the spines of the vast collection- ding.

oh for gods sake, you'd have to have your number removed from whatever spam list it had been put on, the amount of junk you were receiving was ridiculous.

oh.

Oh.

As you opened the text to block the number you see that it wasn't a spam text.

It was from Jason.

Jasons dick was taking up your whole screen, all 7.5 inches of it. Pubes neatly trimmed back and cared for. You could see every vein and god it was good.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Jasons voice broke you from your thoughts as he stood in the doorway behind you, damn Bruce and his perfectly oiled silent door hinges. Stepping towards you with a dark look in his eyes and a smirk on his lips "Ya' know, you sent me that at the most inconvenient time. Right as I was about to break a guys collar bone, sweetheart. How was I supposed to do that when all I could see was you? so alone. so wet. so needy"

"J-Jay..."

"What? Baby girl. So shy now, I saw the pose you were in. That screamed confidence. Where's that gone, huh?" The smell of cigarette smoke and leather and gun powder filled your nose as he got so close your back pressed into the case behind you, towering over you as he softly placed his finger under your chin and tilted your head up to look at him. Pressing a soft kiss on your forehead, then your cheek, your jaw, before he whispered into your ear "I want you"

Potato salad smushed into the carpet as you dropped the plate whilst trying to place it on a nearby surface but missed, you didn’t care, you’d clean it up later. All you wanted to do was get your arms over Jason’s shoulders as soon as you could. Mouths clashed together as he lifted you up by your waist, your legs wrapping around him as he carried you. Soft moans being shared as your lips worked together, his hands moving down to cradle your arse in his palms, fingers digging into the soft flesh through your jeans.

Placing you down to rest on the arm of the nearby sofa, hands were everywhere. His on you. Yours on him. Just trying to undress as fast as you could, both desperate for the embrace of the other. As soon as you were stripped off to an acceptable standard he grabbed you by your hips, turned you around, and bent you over the arm.

-----

Your walls fluttered and clenched around his cock as the thick veins dragged against you. One hand clinging onto your waist tightly, the other on the sofa next to you to support himself as he pumped into you. "Fuck, Sweetheart...would have done this sooner if I had known you'd feel this good..." he growled, digging his nails into your side to anchor you close to him, he had waited so long to hold you, to feel you, and he wasn't planning on letting you go any time soon.

"H-Harder...M-more.." You whined out, burying your face into the leather of the seat. Trying to stay as quiet as possible to avoid others hearing, the last thing you needed was for someone to walk in and see you with him, arse in the air as he pounded into you from behind, his balls slapping against your puffy sensitive clit.

Reaching forwards Jason grabbed ahold of your hair, yanking your head backwards so your face was out in the open and free. Leaning forward to growl into your ear as he made your back painfully arch against his chest "No, Don't you dare muffle yourself, I want them to hear me make you sing"

#Jason todd x reader #Jason todd x you #Jason todd x reader Drabble #Jason todd x you Drabble #Jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #Jason todd #red hood #dc #jason todd smut #red hood smut

[roosterforme]

Champ, Sport, Buddy | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You decide to try out a few new nicknames on your husband. He's quick to remind you that there is a short list of names that are acceptable.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, smut

Length: 2500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Based on an ask. Beautiful banner by @mak-32

"Okay, okay, I know it sounds crazy, but I had the best sex of my life the other night. It actually worked."

You were leaning up against the bar at the Hard Deck on Friday night, waiting for Penny to hand you two of your favorite beers, and you couldn't help but overhear the women next to you chatting.

"What exactly did you do?" the brunette asked the redhead. 

The redhead grinned and said, "I called my husband 'Buddy' a few times, and he got annoyed at first, but then he fucked the absolute shit out of me."

"I can't believe it worked!" the brunette replied. 

You looked over to where Bradley was throwing darts, losing abysmally to Hangman. Your husband looked hot. He always looked hot. He was always good in bed, too. But you were curious.

"Excuse me," you said as you turned toward the two women. "I don't mean to interrupt, but I couldn't help but overhear. You called your husband 'Buddy' which led to amazing sex?"

"Yes!" gushed the redhead again. "Are you married? Dating someone?"

"I'm married," you told her, glancing again at Bradley as he raked his finger through his hair. He turned and caught your eye, winking across the room. 

"Listen, I'm sure you love your husband, but the male ego is fragile and can only handle so much."

You snorted and shrugged. "Makes sense."

"So all you have to do is play into his insecurities a tiny bit. Make him feel like you've pushed him into the friend zone until he snaps a little. He'll be dying to show you that he's not your 'Buddy', he's your lover."

You pondered that for a moment as you picked up your beers. "Thanks," you told both women. "I'll give it a try."

"Good luck!" they called after you as you took both beers back to the dartboard.

"What took you so long?" Bradley rasped as you handed him one of the bottles. "I missed you."

You rolled your eyes with a smile before you kissed his scarred cheek. "I was just across the room."

He was looking at you like he was almost ready to take you home. "Across the room? That's too far, Baby Girl. I like it when you're right next to me. Where you belong." 

"Right here?" you asked, rubbing yourself against his side. 

"Yeah," he whispered. "Right there."

"The two of you are absolutely disgusting these days," Nat informed you as you kissed Bradley and tangled your fingers up in his hair. "I don't know who let you get married, but this has become distressing." She was smiling at both of you as Bradley wrapped his arm around your waist. 

"We'll just head out then," he told his friend, handing her the bottles of beer you just got. "Have a great night."

Then he scooped you up and carried you outside to the Bronco as you squealed. "You wanna do this here or at home, Baby Girl?" he murmured next to your ear as you clung to him and giggled. 

"Are you serious?"

He sucked on your neck while he unlocked the Bronco, and you ended up having sex on the backseat. You kept your bodies down low, and Bradley had one big palm planted over your mouth. When you looked up at him as you licked his hand, he groaned. 

"Baby Girl. Fuck, Sweetheart. You feel so perfect."

The sex was very good. It was always good. You liked the rush of knowing you could get caught. And when you came on his cock, Bradley filled you with his cum before quickly zipping up his jeans. He looked around, and then helped you climb into the front seat. Once you and he were both buckled in, he pulled out of the parking lot to the sound of you and he erupting into laughter. 

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

But the next day, you were still thinking about those two women from the bar. You wondered if it would work. Because if Bradley was leaving you satisfied nearly every single time, what would the next level be like? Getting him a little extra wound up was always fun for you. You shivered a bit as you thought about it while you made lunch. 

You glanced out the window to where he was pulling weeds in just some gym shorts, occasionally pausing to throw a tennis ball for Tramp. He looked sweaty and delicious, and you knew that he would walk back inside soon, ready for lunch and expecting you to take him to bed. Because he was irresistible to you like this, and he knew it. 

So you made him a grilled cheese sandwich with a little side of carrot sticks, and you waited. When you heard the sliding glass door open and the sound of his shoes on the floor, you took a deep breath to stifle the giggle that threatened to escape. 

"Hey, Baby Girl," he grunted from the doorway. 

"Hey, Buddy. Can you get the hot sauce off the dining room table for me?" You glanced at him over your shoulder, trying your best not to laugh. His brow was furrowed as he leaned against the wall with his forearm, sweaty and shirtless.

"Buddy?" he muttered under his breath before turning back to the dining room. You bit your lip hard, trying to get composure as he brought you the bottle and set it on the counter right next to your cutting board. He was very much in your personal space, palm planted on the edge of the counter, waiting for you to look at him. When you glanced up, he asked, "Is there something you want to talk about, Sweetheart?"

"Nope," you replied, shaking your head slightly. 

"Right," he whispered, taking his plate of lunch when you handed it to him. "Right." You watched Bradley wander into the dining room, and you followed him, pulling out a chair for yourself instead of sitting on his lap. 

After you ate quietly for a few minutes, he set his sandwich down. "Are you going to tell me what's bothering you?"

"What do you mean, Champ?" you asked, taking a sip of lemonade to hide your smile as his eyes went wide.

"Champ? Baby Girl, are you mad at me?"

"No," you told him, finishing your sandwich as quickly as you could and standing up. 

He was immediately on your tail as you took your plate to the kitchen sink. "I don't want you to be upset with me," he said, caging you in at the sink. "Tell me what I did wrong." He looked a little worried as you shrugged. 

"I'm not upset," you promised. He leaned in and kissed you. It started out sweet, and slowly but surely it progressed to some tongue and his body pressing against yours. He was warm and sweaty, and you wanted more. But you broke the kiss, gave him a peck on the cheek and said, "I need to go get the mail, Sport."

"S-Sport?" he stuttered, following you for a few steps until he was standing in the middle of the living room with his hands planted on his hips. He looked like a confused puppy as you glanced back when you closed the front door, and then you laughed all the way to the mailbox.

"I called him Sport," you said, cackling to yourself as you emptied all the junk mail and bills out of the mailbox. You took the time to make your face neutral again as you walked back into the house, only to find that Bradley hadn't moved at all.

You were sorting the mail in your hands when he closed the distance to you. Apprehension was flowing off of him in waves. "What the hell did I do?" he rasped, and you looked up at him. 

"I already told you, Buddy. Nothing."

He ran a nervous hand through his messy hair. "So, I'm not doing enough? Are we- are we getting divorced or something, Sweetheart?"

You had to try so hard not to touch him or laugh. "Why would you think that?"

"Because you're calling me Buddy! And Sport!"

You bit your lip and shrugged again, taking in his muscular form and shocked expression. "I'm just trying out some new nicknames."

"New nicknames? The fuck? You never call me those things!"

"I just thought I might start calling you things that I would call a friend."

He took a staggering step away from you before gesturing to himself with both hands. "A friend? Do I look like your friend? I am not your friend."

"I thought you said you were my best friend, Champ," you whispered, trying to hold it together as the flushed color on his cheeks grew darker. 

"Of course you're my best friend, Baby Girl!"

You pressed your lips together before you said, "Then I don't see the problem?"

His eyes were wide and his lips were parted as he closed the distance to you and grabbed you a little rough. "You don't see the problem, huh? You ride your friends' dicks like you ride mine? You moan for your friends when you're a horny mess?"

His hands were on your hips as he held you against his semi hard cock. "Well, no-" you gasped.

"No. You don't. I'm your husband. I'm not your friend."

You bit your lip and then whispered, "Okay, Buddy."

And then he snapped. His lips were on yours in the roughest kiss. You had to grab for his shoulders so you didn't trip as he pushed you back against the bannister. His body was heavy against yours as the wood dug into your back. "That's enough," he growled. "There are four names you call me, and Buddy isn't one of them. Neither is Champ. Neither is Sport."

"Four names?" you asked softly, moaning as he sucked on your neck until you squealed. And then he wedged his thigh between your legs, and you whined, "Roo!"

"Yeah, Baby Girl," he whispered against your neck as he started yanking your shirt up. "That's one of them. Keep going."

You looked up at him as he peeled your shirt off and unclasped your bra. When you started to ride his thigh, he brought his hands up to your nipples, stroking softly at first. Then he was dipping his head down and brushing you with his mustache until you cried out, "Bradley!"

"Yeah, I'm your Bradley. Keep going, Sweetheart," he commanded before sucking your nipple into his mouth and unzipping your denim shorts. You were whining so loudly as he ran his tongue in lazy circles and looked up at you. Then he kissed his way down to your rooster tattoo as your shorts and underwear slid down your legs. 

He licked your tattoo before turning his attention to your pussy. When he guided one thigh up over his bare shoulder, you met his eyes and whispered, "Daddy."

Your husband groaned, dragging his tongue and mustache through your wet slit before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. "Daddy!" you screamed, digging your fingers into his hair and scalp to keep yourself upright. The wood against your back was painful where every other part of my body was drowning in pleasure as Bradley ate your pussy. 

"Say it again," he demanded before licking from your opening to your clit over and over while you told him he was your Daddy. "I'm your Daddy," he growled, getting to his feet and scooping you up as well. You were whimpering as he carried you to the steps and set you down on your hands and knees. You could feel the warmth of his body behind you and over you as he gently kissed along your bare back until you were practically in tears, needing more. 

When you wiggled your butt back against his shorts, you could feel him pull his cock free. "You're forgetting one name," he rasped, dragging his tip through your wetness before resting himself right at your opening with a little pressure. Then one big hand wrapped around to your clit and the other found your breasts as he said, "I'll help you remember it."

And then he fucked you, so hard and so good, filling you with each fluid snap of his hips. He bottomed out until you were rocking forward against your hands braced on the steps. 

"Oh god, Roo!" you screamed. He was so rough and yet so fucking sweet when his lips met the back of your neck. 

Then he filled you all the way and stayed there, pushing a little harder still as he wrapped his hand around your hair and pulled. "Fuck!" you screamed as your back arched, pressing him to your g-spot until you were panting and ready to beg. "Please!"

He licked your neck and rasped, "I'm not Buddy. I'm Roo. Got it?"

"Yes! Yes!"

"I'm your Daddy, Baby Girl," he whispered as you whined, stroking his fingers along your clit and yanking on your hair. "But you're forgetting one name."

He started fucking you again in earnest, fingers tapping your clit until you were babbling nonsense. The slap of his thighs against the backs of yours was mesmerizing as he hit every spot just right. 

"Come on, Sweetheart. You're my good girl. So smart," he grunted. "You know what to call me when I'm in charge. You know what to call me right now. You pinned it on my chest."

You were keening as you felt that first delicious clench around his cock, but when you didn't answer him, he eased his fingers away from your clit. "No!" you gasped.

"Say it," he growled, thrusting a little harder. "Fucking say it."

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw!"

Then his fingers were right there, and your pussy was clenching as you moaned every variation of his name as you came. But he kept it going, almost to the point of over stimulation, extending your orgasm until your eyes were filled with tears. His fingers were still stroking you as your legs shook, and then finally he was groaning your given name and grabbing your hips as he fucked you until he came in your pussy. 

He collected you in his arms, pulling you up so your back was against his sweaty chest, and he kissed your shoulder. You leaned back as you caught your breath, and he pressed his lips to your ear. "I never want to hear any of that shit again. Got it?"

"Yes, Daddy," you told him with a smile playing on your lips. "Never again."

He kissed you and stroked his hands all over your body. It worked. The women from the bar were right. That was absolutely next level. 

Then Bradley pulled his cock from your pussy as you whined, and he slapped your ass. "Okay, Sport. Let's get a move on. We've got chores to do." You looked back at his smug expression as he pulled his shorts up. "You coming, Champ?"

"Bradley," you groaned, glaring at him. 

You managed to stand on your shaky legs and chase after him, but he scooped you up. "I got ya, Buddy," he whispered with a grin, and you smothered him with kisses until he couldn't talk.

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

Please, I need someone to try this tiktok on their significant other! Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster fanfic #rooster x reader #rooster x you #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #rooster bradshaw fic #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster x reader #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #champ sport buddy

[peacefxlmyko]

It's not a one night stand if it turns into two

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Basically just Jake falling for his FWB.

Warnings: some smut, p in v, no physical describtion of reader, no use of Y/N, Jake getting attached, jealousy, sudden love confessions, fluff, maybe a little bit of Angst if you squint your eyes?, swearing

Notes: First smutty fanfic on here lmao go wild yall. All I have to say is Im in love with Glen Powell and so I automatically love Hangman too. Also the title is inspired by a Måneskin Song!

Once again, English isn't my first language so I'm sorry about any mistakes. Also, I didn't prove read this so just be warned.

Story under the cut! ✂️

He simply couldn't take this eyes off of you. The way you were standing at the bar, slightly leaning onto it as you were talking to Penny. The way your dress was hugging your body, perfectly showing off everything. Everything he had already seen but couldn't get enough off.

His mind drifted off to the first night you spent together. He didn't even remember anymore how you two ended up in bed together, but it was amazing.

Jake could basically still hear your whines and moans. They were music to his ears.

"Jake, oh, oh god- please!" You whined and begged, craving release. The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, your shared moans and the headboard banging against the wall.

He was so big and he was fucking you so well. You always thought he gave off big dick energy but jesus- this was even more than expected, but you weren't going to complain.

"That's right, just like that- you're bein' such a good girl." He groaned, his hips bucking hard. The feeling of your pussy clenching around him drove him wild, not to mention you moaning and whining his Name.

You ended up coming on his cock, screaming his name. This wasn't your first and definitely not the last orgasm of the night.

"Seresin? Christ, are you even listening?"

He snapped back out of his thoughts as he looked back at Rooster, who by now just looked annoyed. "Sorry, I uh- yeah, I'm listenin'" Jake quickly mumbled and tried to pull himself together.

You both were friends and had told yourselves after the first time it wouldn't happen again. Well, that was 4 night stands ago.

Jake would never admit it to himself, but he was going crazy over you. Not only because of the way you fucked, but also because of your whole being. The way you lit up whenever someone talked to you, how you would sometimes nervously fiddle with your fingers or the hem of your shirt, the way you looked at him with a soft sparkle in your eyes.

But he was also obsessed with the way your hands buried in his hair, your legs wrapped around his hips as he filled you up, the way you held onto his biceps as you rode him.

But he would never admit that. He would never admit the way his heart fluttered whenever you cuddled close to him after sex. The way his heart actually also reacted whenever you kissed him, not only his cock.

The Jake 'Hangman' Seresin falling for someone? Never. He was never the kind of man to actually fall for someone and even think about settling down. But something about you felt different, even if it was only physical, for now.

By now Bradley had completely given up trying to talk to Jake. He just rolled his eyes and joined Phoenix and Bob instead.

Jake's eyes were focused on you the whole time, he was surprised you hadn't turned around at least once to catch him staring. You were still engrossed in a conversation with Penny until she had to serve other customers. You leaned back, grabbing your drink and taking a few sips until you were suddenly approached by a man.

Jake had hoped at first he just wanted to ask where the restroom was or something but when he didn't leave your side, Jake felt something boiling inside of him. His jaw clenched as he saw you laughing and happily talking with that guy.

He didn't even understand why you were so focused on that rando. He wasn't even half as handsome as Jake, hell, even Bradley was more handsome in Jake's eyes!

His patience ran out the moment you pulled out your phone, seemingly to give your number to that ass of a man as Jake mentally called him that.

His legs seemed to have a mind of their own as they stormed towards you. Hangman grabbed your shoulder and quickly turned you around to him, earning shocked looks from both you and that guy.

"What the—"

"What the hell are you doin'? I thought we were a thin'!"

God, that stupid southern accent basically made you wanna melt right then and there.

"Wha- I thought you only saw us as some quick fun!" You protested.

"Are you kiddin' me?! Do you think I'm sleepin' with other girls besides you?"

"....."

Jake frowned at your silence which was basically the most direct answer.

"Listen, I don't usually do shit like this. Normally I move on quickly but you put some kind of spell or somethin' on me because you make my damn heart flutter every time our gazes meet. And I love the way you laugh, I love the way you tease me, I love the way you make fun of me. And I fuckin' hate seeing you with a man that isn't me. So quit your bullshit with this guy and finally go on a proper date with me!"

Jake didn't even think, it was all just blurting out.

You looked like your eyes were about to pop out, you stared at him in complete disbelief. Were you dreaming or something?

"Please say somethin' so I know I didn't mess this up."

"Shut up and kiss me, Seresin" You muttered and promply pulled him in.

This kiss felt so different from all the other ones you shared. This one was so full of emotions and passion. Your hand rested on his cheek, as his hands found their place on your waist.

"I'll pick you up tomorrow at 7." Jake grinned.

You didn't even mind he had just decided that, you were looking forward to that date.

"See you then, cowboy." You grinned and pressed another quick kiss on his lips.

#top gun maverick #top gun #jake hangman seresin #top gun hangman #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake seresin imagine #glen powell #hangman smut #Spotify

[wutheringhestia]

An "I'm in Australia, what can I do for Palestine?" masterpost

Petitions:

Petition EN5847 - Provide Consular Support to Palestinian Australian Families (this one closes at 11:59 on the Thursday 15th of February. Please sign before then if you can, and make sure you confirm your email!)

Ask your super fund to divest from companies that support apartheid conditions (Australian Palestinian Action Network)

https://www.aph.gov.au/e-petitions/petition/EN5847

Australia: stop sending arms to Israel (Amnesty International)

Urge Australian Government to Save Local Doctor's Family Trapped in Gaza (petition by family members)

Australia: Reverse decision to suspend UNRWA funding (Amnesty International)

Reinstate UNRWA Funding (Australian Palestinian Action Network)

Grant Palestinians fleeing the conflict in Gaza access to humanitarian support! (Australian Social Workers for Palestine)

Contact your representatives:

Start by finding your MP here

Call or email to ask that Australia push for an immediate ceasefire, provide consular support to family members to leave Gaza, and reinstate UNRWA funding. If that's too much, pick one point to start with! I like to write myself a script before calling, as it removes some of the anxiety. Calling is preferable to emailing, but whatever you have the capacity for is so much better than nothing

Once you've contacted your MP, you can also contact Penny Wong on [phone] or [email protected]

If you can contribute financially:

Donate an eSIM to help Gazans stay connected

Donate to help the most medically vulnerable evacuate Rafah (I completely understand that many people are wary of donating via GoFundMe, but the people involved in this effort do an excellent job at documenting their efforts + keeping records for accountability purposes. Have a look at @raindovemodel @merryfet on instagram for more details

Help El Rahman Inc buy Cairo -> Melbourne tickets for stranded families. They're a Melbourne-based organisation that does amazing work

If you only feel comfortable donating to NGOs, consider the Palestinian Children's Relief Fund, Anera, UNRWA, or the Red Crescent

And, finally:

Come to your local action on Sunday. Even better, bring a friend

If you're a university student, alumni, or prospective student, check whether the institution in question partners with any companies on the BDS list. A disappointingly high number of unis partner with weapons manufacturing companies. If yes, urge them to divest.

Learn the BDS list. Do not purchase anything from companies on the list.

#beloveds if ur coming across this in april it’s very out of date #(the call ur reps + come to a march + buy some esims part doesn’t change though) #hoping to make an updated one in the next few days #auspol #palestine #australia #free palestine #gaza #current events

[18catsreading]

Koda: I am better than horse. I will carry you.

Katja: wmWhat. Did. You. Fucking. Say?

Koda: I am Better than Horse.

Rekha: Katja squares up.

Aabria/Antiope: I immediately grab Katja like 'nope, nope!'

Katja: let me take him don't you hold me back!

Antiope: Bear back up, back up! You don't want me to let her go.

Koda: okay.

Becca/Penny: I hug the bear. Just don't say, we know it's true, don't say it again.

Katja: what?!

Koda: oh yeah, what, what, what?

Antiope: Girl you wanna get let go?

Katja: Am I gonna fight a bear?

Antiope: go fucking get him! Aabria/Antiope: I let go and push her forward. Kill this bear!

Izzy/Ostentatia: can I cast enhance ability and give her beat shit?

Antiope: smoke this bear, Katja!

Brennan: I'm gonna pull up bear --

Becca/Penny: no, not Koda, please, I'll give my life for Koda!

Sam: Koda, I believe in you. And I give Koda bardic inspiration.

Katja: what! Against me?!

*overlapping chatter*

Brennan: okay, so you have enhanced ability, I'm gonna need an athletics check with advantage from you.

Sephie/Sam: my first time bardic inspiration!

Brennan: what did you roll?

Rekha/Katja: I rolled an 18, which plus my athletics is a 27.

Aabria: let's go

Becca/Penny: come on Koda

Brennan: I'm gonna roll.

Sephie/Sam: remember that bardic inspiration!

Brennan: yes, bardic inspiration.

*overlapping chatter*

Rekha/Katja: Absolutely psychotic

Aabria/Antiope: I want Hunter's Sense on this bear. What is his weakness?

Rekha/Katja: fuck yes

Antiope: I'm whispering in your ear like, 'go for his nuts.'

Becca/Penny: I get an acrobatics check as I spin the bear on my feet?

Rekha/Katja: this is unreal you created, and then brought back this bear.

Penny: Koda is a circus trained bear and I have acrobatics.

Brennan: so I'm gonna roll. Here's, here's Koda's athletics check.

*math happens* Katja: 27, Koda: 24

Erika/Yelle: before this resolves --

Katja: and it will never resolve!

Erika/Yelle: everyone hears a voice in the back of their heads that says: 'Everybody knock it off and grow the fuck up.'

Rekha: gasps

Penny: yeah, Koda

Yelle: you too Koda

Sam: especially Koda

Brennan: Katja you've got --

Ostentatia: who just fucking cursed at me?

Brennan: so you all -- so Danielle just communicated telepathically. You gently release Koda from the arm bar that you have Koda in.

Rekha/Katja: yea it was an arm bar and I was about to grab him like *gestures with a clenched fist* like this is his shirt and put him up against the --

Izzy: shirt?

Rekha/Katja: yea, but this is fur, against the thing. And go like a 'why I oughta!'

Becca/Penny: no Koda wears a tiny T-shirt, that's right.

Rekha: *something I can't catch* really small.

Izzy: is it Paddington?

*overlapping chatter and laughing*

Brennan: a talking Kodiak Bear with an enormous rain jacket and hat. Less cute that size. Cool. So, so Katja you were clearly about to tie this bear in a knot.

Aabria/Antiope: kick this bear's ass.

Brennan: and Danielle grabs everyone's attention. Zelda looks at Yelle and goes [as Zelda]: cool. Yeah, we need to head to the Baronies. We should go.

Katja: yeah, yeah. Are you cool, Koda? Are you fucking cool?

Koda: if you are cool, I am cool. We have no problem. Maybe next time we go there's no sucker punches, and we sort of, you know?

Yelle: okay, you know what. This is what we call, in the industry, bear baiting. And you're not going to fall for it.

Izzy: what industry?

Aabria/Antiope: we're getting baited by a bear that's fucked.

Katja: I am not falling for this

Penny: the nature industry

Katja: I am strong, I am strong, and you are weak

*overlapping chatter*

Brennan: uh, amazing. So it kicks off a little bit again, and you guys head off from here. Katja and Koda, the tension is palpable.

Rekha/Katja: and we're sitting next to each other!

Penny: I hope on Koda's back

Izzy: they're gonna fuck!

Penny: I'm whispering to Koda what a good boy he is, and how he's better than a horse.

Katja: I'm whispering to cinnamon "you know there's nothing on earth that's better than a horse, you know that right?

Cinnamon: I didn't let that bear get to me. I didn't let that bear get to me.

Brennan: so you all move along

#brennan lee mulligan #dimension 20 #the seven #ep 6 belles if the baronies #aabria iyengar #rekha shankar #becca scott #erika ishii #persephone valentine #isabella roland

[sometimesanalice]

In a Place Just Right

Summary: It's your first year hosting Thanksgiving in San Diego for the Daggers and Bradley can tell you're a little nervous about it. But he already knows it's going to be one for the books, because any holiday spent with you better than anything he could have imagined.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 5K

Warnings: fluff and allusions to smut (minors dni)

(author's note: this fic is set in the 'Like I Can Universe', but can be read on it's own! Happy Thanksgiving, friends!)

For the last six years Penny has been the one to host Daggersgiving, but this year hostess duties had fallen on your plate. Needless to say, Bradley knew you were more than a little stressed about it.

When you had asked him about his opinion on the merits of canned cranberry sauce versus homemade he’d blinked at you a few times before asking, “Is this a thing people care about?”

He’ll never forget how adorably aghast you looked to learn that he had no preference on the matter. And maybe if you had asked him when the sun was up instead of at 3 AM he might have known better than to give you such a noncommittal answer.

“Both, we’ll have both,” you’d stated resolutely.

“Whatever you want, kid," he’d murmured as he’d pulled you to his chest and wrapped an arm around your stomach. His smart and beautiful wife. "Now go back to sleep, you’re supposed to be dreaming of sugarplums not cranberries."

“Wrong holiday, Bradley,” you’d sighed contentedly, relaxing against him. And it hadn’t taken you long to fall back asleep with that cranberry crisis having been averted.

But now people were due to show up in less than an hour and you are frantically fluttering and huffing around the kitchen like a madwoman in a very pretty green dress, "I knew that quickie was a bad idea. You're never quick, Bradley."

He’d been away and missed many holidays over the years due to his career.

Your mom had always made it clear that he had an open invitation to join in whatever merry festivities were happening with your family, but more often than not it rarely aligned with him being stationed all over the world. But he’d always been happy to get to have a phone call with you and eat the homemade cookies you’d sent him on those years spent apart.

But now Bradley got to look forward to spending every holiday with you in the home you shared with him.

Over the last week the house had slowly but surely transformed into something that was straight out of a magazine.

There was a display of pumpkins, ribbons, and a garland of strung dried orange slices that decorated the fireplace. And overpriced candles from your favorite store flickered cheerfully on every surface that wasn’t a fire hazard to a bunch of enthusiastic Naval aviators. The dining table was dressed up to the nines and everyone spot with their names painstakingly written in your pretty script on a place card sitting in a pinecone.

You had even made some oversized confetti in the shape of oak leaves out of some old books, the copy of ‘Why Men Love Bitches’ that Nat had given him years ago as a joke was finally repurposed and recycled into something more festive over where the beverages had been set up.

The whole house smells amazing. Warm cinnamons and nutmegs mixing with bright citrus and rich vanillas. The kitchen island and countertops were filled with various plates and platters and bowls of dips, charcuterie, fruit and vegetables, nuts, and other savories. All the other dishes were being kept warm in the ovens for when everyone arrived and was ready to settle around the dining table for dinner.

Bradley was positive that no one would leave feeling hungry. He also wasn’t entirely sure where the things his friends are bringing were going to go, but there were worse problems to have.

Penny had taken Amelia with her to visit her family on the East Coast. They’d decided it would probably be better for Mav to hang back in San Diego for the holiday, those tensions with her dad were still a bit strained even though they’d been married for almost four years now.

Which is how the Bradshaw’s were hosting their first Thanksgiving for everyone.

This morning had been organized chaos. Some of the last minute-things had only managed to be checked off with the assistance of strong coffee and a good playlist.

However, he’d still managed to sneak in the opportunity to spin you around the kitchen to your wedding song when it came up on shuffle. After all the cranberries were still popping and boiling down; there was time for it, he'd always make time for it.

But that was then.

Now, you are glaring at him like you’d been personally victimized by him and his cock.

“You complaining, sweet girl?” he asks with a smirk, leaning his hip against the kitchen island watching as you briskly stir the gravy heating up in the copper sauce pot on the stove. “Don’t think that’s what I was hearing thirty minutes ago when we had that pretty green dress of yours bunched around your hips. Sounded something like ‘more, Bradley, more’ to me.”

You shoot him a look that would make a weaker man wither, but he’s built up an immunity to it over a lifetime of having it directed at him.

“I think that’s quite enough out of you,” you reprimand, but he sees the amusement in your eyes even as you fight to keep the annoyed façade on your face. “We’re behind schedule now. I thought I buffered in enough time, just in case-”

“Just in case you begged me to give you an orgasm to, and I quote, ‘help me chill out’?”

“I was kidding,” you say, stopping your agitated whisking to go fluff the stuffing instead.

“All I’m saying is that if my beautiful wife is begging for me, I’m certainly not going to say no. I’m only human,” he says with an all too pleased shrug.

Bradley grabs the can opener and works on opening the canned cranberry sauce. He reaches for a couple plates, holding them up for your approval and you point to the one on the right. The scalloped white one with gold rim it'll be.

“For the record, I certainly did not beg,” you say primly, glowering into the homemade stuffing that you’d had him get the bread from the nice bakery across town for.

“Sure, sure,” he drawls, the smirk growing wider on his face as he sets to freeing the jelly from its rippled container.

He knows he shouldn’t tease you right now, but you’re so cute when you get huffy that he can’t help himself. He’s known that petulant raise of your chin his whole life. And sometimes when he looks at you he can so clearly see the little girl he’d been forced to entertain for hours when your moms were hanging out.

You went from being his favorite nuisance to his best friend to his everything.

“Do I still look ok? Or do I need to do a quick refresh before everyone gets here?” you ask. You turn to fully face him, tilting your head one way and then another for his inspection.

He would happily stare at you all day if you’d let him. He loves your pretty eyes and what you’ve done with your hair.

“You’re beautiful,” he grins, “And if anyone asks, we can just say you’re flushed from all the cooking.”

“Bradley,” you whine setting down your wooden spoon down on the counter with a sharp thwack.

“Ok, ok. I’m done, I promise,” he says putting his hands up in surrender with a chuckle.

He pushes off the counter and grabs a glass off of one of the floating shelves and fills it with some ice water.

“Good,” you tut haughtily, as you fiddle with the white and orange striped kitchen towel hanging on the oven door, “I was about to threaten to make you sleep on the couch tonight.”

“You wouldn’t.” Even the thought of it makes his stomach feel unsettled.

After nearly two decades of hard beds on foreign bases and on lumpy carrier mattresses, he’s never slept as well as he did since the two of you found your way to each other.

His peace was found under a fluffy green duvet on a wooden canopy bed with you tucked under his arm.

“No. No, I wouldn’t,” you agree, leaning in to place a soft kiss to his cheek in thanks when he presses the cold glass into your hands.

Bradley tugs you away from the warm stove and you reluctantly follow and sit on the barstool he’s pulled out for you on the other side of the kitchen island.

He runs his hand up and down your back comfortingly as you take a few sips, “We’re in a great place, sweet girl.”

“Mhm, yeah. Sure, of course.” You couldn’t sound less unsure if you tried. “It’s just… I’m nervous about the mushroom and leeks bread pudding. I’ve never made it before. And what if we run out of wine?”

“What’s been our motto?” he asks, taking over the helm at the stove whisking the gravy together as it begins to thicken.

“‘In Ina we trust’,” you say with a serious nod of your head. 

“Atta girl, we sure do. And Nat said she’s is bringing a few bottles she picked up from when she went to Napa, the good shit. It’s going to be great. Trust me,” he says giving you a warm smile. “Will it make you feel better to go over everything again?”

“Yes, please,” you say, anxiously drumming your fingers along the side of your water glass.

He’d stepped up where he could like making sure the house was pristine and cleaning up the yard by blowing off the wrinkled remainders of the yellow Tipuana flowers. He’d even been able to source and rent some more chairs to make sure that everyone would have a seat at the table.

Bradley wasn’t a schlump in the kitchen. He knew his way around a cookbook and a stove. His knife skills were pretty damn good too, if he did say so himself. But he also knew when somethings were out of his wheelhouse. So he’d taken to being your sous chef, and had taken to washing and prepping the ingredients for you so that all you had to do was toss them in whatever shiny pot they were destined for.

He even made his mom’s favorite pie. It had been years since he's had it, and he was excited to share it with everyone.

Your mom had mailed the copy of the original recipe she had that was written in Carole’s rounded, flourished script. You had made a photocopy of it to use so that the original didn’t get ruined, and then pointed out a spot on the wall where you said you’d thought it would look nice in a frame hanging in the kitchen. And he'd fallen a little more in love with you.

“Ok, hit me with it,” he says turning the heat to low for the gravy and putting the lid on.

This was a partnership through and through, he was going to give you all the support you needed.

“The turkey?”

Bradley picks up the fancy digital meat thermometer he’d bought for the occasion to check, “Big Bird has an hour and twenty more minutes to work on his tan and then he’ll rest for another thirty. Giving people time to graze and mingle and get some drinks in them, just like you wanted.”

You nod and hum contemplatively, “I’ve been thinking we need a salad. I don’t feel like we have enough vegetable options.”

He knows better than to point out that you’re currently snacking on snap peas from not one, but three, of the veggie platters the two of you had put together the night before.

“We’ve got the crispy brussels sprouts, the garlic and hazelnut green beans, and the honey glazed carrots with lemon. We’re more than fine on the fiber and beta-carotene. Michelle Obama would be proud, kid.”

That gets a little laugh from you.

“Well, as long as you think Michelle would be happy than we’re probably fine,” you say with a smile around your water glass that tells him you know exactly what he’s doing invoking your favorite First Lady.

“What else are you thinking about?” Bradley asks peering in the lower of their double ovens, where foiled covered dishes are lined up in perfect symmetry are warming away having been prepared in advance.

“Do you think two bags of rolls will be enough? Or should I text Mav and ask him to grab one more?”

He doesn’t miss the way your eyes dip down to his ass in his gray slacks. So he might linger as second longer than necessary to let you enjoy the view, since it’s for the female gaze and all.

He’s never understood wearing the most restrictive clothing on the holiday that involves the most eating, but that was Penny’s tradition to have everyone dressed in their nicest and you had insisted on keeping it going even if she was on the other side of the country.

You’d teased him earlier when you’d seen him emerge from the bedroom wearing the short-sleeved green cashmere polo you’d gotten him a couple years ago. It fit a little more snug that he remembered it, but he thought he still pulled it off well.

“When did we become the couple that matches?” you’d asked gesturing to your dress as you gave him an appreciative onceover.

If the past was anything to go off of, you would be running your hands over the soft material covering his chest and back all night.

“I just like reminding people who I belong with, sweet girl.”

He might have had something else in mind to wear for the evening before he saw you in that dress, had ironed the shirt the night before and everything, but last-minute pivot it was well worth it when you looked at him like that.

When he stands back up, he gives you knowing wink.

And in return you throw a baby carrot at him with a laugh.

Bradley isn’t surprised in the least to hear the quick clack-clack-clack of nails on the wood floors as their fluffy black and white Portuguese Water Dog rounds the corner. Having been summoned by the sound of food hitting the floor from where he had been dozing near the fireplace in the living room.

The carrot is gone in an instant and he comes to sit at Bradley's feet by the stove, looking up at him from under his curly eyebrows clearly hoping he'll get another snack.

“Nah, bud. You’re barking up the wrong tree over here,” he says leaning down to scratch his floppy ears.

“Ah, come here, Duck,” you croon, calling him over to your side of the island. “He’s so mean for a man who claimed he just saw God not too long ago, isn’t he?”

Bradley snorts and shakes his head at you amused.

He still doesn’t know how he ended up with a dog named Duck.

At the dog park, more often than not people mistook it for ‘Buck’. And you were usually off to the side more than happy to let him take the lead, biting your lip to keep from laughing at his less than enthusiastic expression when he’d have to warily explain yet again It’s Duck like quack.

You’re not even subtle about the piece of cheese you pull from the charcuterie board to feed him.

“I saw that,” he says, giving you a pointed lift of his eyebrow, “You know Bob is going to be spoiling him all night.”

“It was just a little piece of cheese. Plus, I don’t know who you think you’re fooling. I saw you go over there and deliver him his own little veggie platter with some of the leftovers we had while I was making the apple cider sangria.”

“That’s different, that’s good for him,” he says rounding the island, reaching over and snagging his own slice of cheese to snack on.

“And cheese is a protein. He’s just a baby, Bradley, what am I supposed to do? Not give him a piece of swiss?” You slide off your chair to squat down and rub Duck’s belly, you’ve always been his favorite.

“He’s almost five,” he replies flatly.

“A youth!” you exclaim, “He’s a growing boy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bradley says affectionately with a little roll of his eyes. He knows a losing battle when he sees one.

He offers you his hand to help you stand back up, but you wave him off and pull yourself up using the edge of the island. You take a moment to readjust your dress before making your way to the sink by the big windows that look out into the backyard.

“Speaking of Bob, do you know if he’s bringing his fiancée?” you ask from over your shoulder as you wash your hands.

“Not this time, sweetheart. I guess she volunteered to cover a shift in the NICU when she heard they were short staffed.”

“Oh that’s too bad, I was excited to see her ring in person,” you say drying off your hands and heading to the pantry.

“It’s all he can talk about at work. I guess they’re thinking about a Spring wedding next year. They don’t want to wait too long to get married.”

“I’m so happy for them,” you say, digging around for a moment and then emerge with a stack of some sturdy plastic plates and set them on the last free spot on the countertop. “Don’t let me forget to make them up a couple plates that he can bring home for her, before Fanboy declares it time for ‘second dinner’ and eats all the yams like he did last year.”

“I won’t forget, promise,” he says fondly.

If you were facing him, he knows you’d probably tease him for the look on his face and just how gone he is for you.

You’ve always been so generous, it’s one of the things that he loves most about you.

You were always good about hustling him out of his well-earned money from is part time job scooping ice cream in high school, like with the fundraiser you did for the local soup kitchen and the one for the elementary school summer arts program.

He’s always been wrapped around your finger, it just took him awhile to realize why.

It’s the same reason why there’s been a donation that comes out of his bank account every month for the last five years for one of the San Diego animal shelters.

Bradley had made a rather sizable donation and then set up a smaller reoccurring monthly one after the chaos that was the time Bob had set you up with his friend who worked at the shelter, back before the two of you had gotten together.

Even after all these years, he still can’t help but get a little irritated every time he sees that guy’s face in the monthly newsletter that comes to his email. He’s pretty sure Casey still might have a little crush on you, but Bradley can’t blame him. He’d have a hard time getting over you too, so it’s a good thing he’ll never have to.

On newsletter day, Bradley always finds himself giving Duck extra treats.

You are his wife. And Duck is his dog. Ridiculous name and all.

He couldn’t wait to surprise you with the golden tennis ball that the shelter sends out as a thank you after a decade of donations.

Only five more years to go.

You’re over by the bar that’s been set up off to the side, straightening the already very straight rows of gleaming wine glasses when he hears you suck in a sharp gasp.

Bradley drops the dish cloth he had in his hands as he attempted to give what little counter space there was left a final wipe down and is in front of you in half a heartbeat. Was there a fluke with some faulty stemware? Are you bleeding? There’s a reason Thanksgiving is one of the busiest days at the hospital.

“The butter!” you cry out as you whirl around, your pretty eyes welling up with tears, “I let you fuck me and I forgot to pull the butter from the fridge. It’s going to be too hard for people to spread now!”

He knows it’s more than just hosting jitters that’s got you like this, but it still catches him by surprise sometimes.

“Woah, woah,” he says as he catches you on the way to the fridge and pulls you to his chest, “C’mere, my sweet girl.”

You make a distressed noise but allow him to keep his hold on you, “But the butter…”

“I already pulled the butter, see?” He points to the sticks that are already softening away on the counter. “Will you take a couple slow breaths for me, please? This place looks and smells amazing. We did good, baby.”

Bradley feels the moment your body relaxes into him.

He presses a kiss to the side of your temple as he smooths his hands down your soft, pretty green velvet dress and the warm, firm curve of your rounded stomach soothingly.

“Ugh, I’m sorry. It’s the hormones,” you sigh, as you lean your head back against his shoulder.

He hums empathically as he sways gently side to side with you in his arms.

“I would like to go on the record saying that I like pregnancy hormones, especially the ones from earlier,” he jokes lightly.

“That makes one of us,” you say with a watery laugh, “Just wait until I am waking you up at 4 AM because I am craving something from a drive-thru that’s not open.”

“Mm, can’t wait,” he murmurs before dropping a few kisses along the soft line of your jaw.

Bradley still can’t believe he gets to be this lucky in life.

He doesn’t want to forget a single moment of this. With you, with his family.

“We did a really good job with this one,” he whispers into your ear, still stroking your stomach, not wanted to disturb the magic in the domesticity.

“We really did, da--” Bradley groans and cuts you off with a kiss. He can feel the impish smile plastered on your lips as he kisses you. His favorite menace.

He knows you’re pretty sure it was the spontaneous hook up in the storage closet at the Hard Deck on the Fourth of July that’s responsible for the noticeable bump you’re sporting. Call him a romantic, but he likes to think it was that night in the Bronco overlooking the ocean when he’d taken the long way back home.   

You pull away all too soon for his liking to grab his left hand. He sees the flash of the two diamonds on your engagement ring, one from his mom and one from yours, as you take it and press it to a spot near your bellybutton.

The feeling of the fluttering under his palm will never get old. He’s not too proud to say he’d shed a tear or two the first time he’d felt it.

Bradley lets himself bask in this moment as he two of you stand there in the kitchen of your dream house.

There are a few pops from the wood in the fireplace, the refrigerator is humming away in the background, and he can just hear the sounds of a melodic piano from the playlist he queued up earlier playing over the speaker.

Of all the delicious scents that waft through the house, the smell the floral and musk notes in you perfume is still his favorite.

There are times in the soft quiet of night, usually when you are asleep and his mind won’t quite settle, that he sometimes thinks he was put on this Earth to hold you.

It’s the only reason he can think of that explains why you fit so perfectly against his body.

Why his palms can fit so perfectly over your rounded stomach.

Why it’s his hands that you have trusted to protect your heart.

And he’s still holding you in the warmth of the kitchen when he hears the front door open.

Bradley knows he’s going to have to play host soon and he just wants to keep you in his arms for just a little longer.

“Hey kids, I brought the turkey,” Mav calls out from the entry.

You spin in his arms, looking at him wide eyed and confused as you two exchange a look. He presses one last kiss to your cheek before letting you go.

“Thought you were going to bring the rolls, Mav,” Bradley calls out just in time to see him round the corner.

Pete stands there proudly grinning holding a few bags of bakery rolls in one hand and a turkey in the other.

The sound of your delighted laughter makes his heart swell in his chest as he takes in the sight.

“Cooper Mitchell Ford Bradshaw, you are without a doubt the cutest turkey I have ever seen,” you gush as you go to greet Mav with a warm hug and a kiss on his cheek. Your son’s chubby arms reaching out for you.

Mav has dressed your almost two-year-old son in a soft, plush turkey costume that is complete with tailfeathers and a beak. He’s clearly a fan of the outfit too because he is grinning widely, showing of the more of the baby teeth that have come in over the last few months.

Mav had swung by early this morning to take him off your hands to get ready for Daggersgiving without chasing an almost-toddler around. While it was nice to have some time just the two of you while you got the place in order and took care of the last-minute things, like that homemade cranberry sauce, but he’d missed not having his son around.

The sweet sound of Cooper’s giggles and your coos fill up the kitchen as he watches you pepper his face with kisses. You bounce him a little and do a little spin, making the little boy laugh even more. The two of you in your own little bubble.

“You doin’ ok over there, kid?” Mav asks, a soft grin on his face as he sets the rolls on the counter to pull him in for a hug.

The two men had made their way back to each other over the last few years, just another thing that Bradley was grateful for in his life. The man had always been his father in everything but name. That is until he’d seen the man who raised him hold his son for the first time.

“Yeah, Dad,” Bradley says, clearing his throat a bit, “Everything’s perfect.”

From there it’s a flurry of activity as people start to arrive.

Nat comes with her longtime girlfriend and the extra bottles of the fancy Napa wine she promised to bring. Only handing it over once he promised to give her the name of the contractor the two of you had worked with and the exact shade of green that was used on the lower cabinets during your kitchen renovation.

Payback and Fanboy and their wives show up wearing oversized turkey hats on their heads each carrying a bakery box of pie.

Bradley isn’t surprised when Duck ditches the attention that Coyote was giving him the second Bob shows up with the famous Floyd family scalloped potatoes. Bob has always been a sucker for a pair of puppy dog eyes.

And in between checking on people’s glasses, swapping out empty appetizer trays for fuller ones, and making sure Jake doesn’t tamper with his perfectly cooked turkey, he’s got his eyes trained on you.

There are no words for the pride and love that washes over him every time he looks over and sees you with his son propped up on your hip and the way your pretty dress stretches around your growing family.

He had missed this stage of your pregnancy when he was deployed and you were pregnant with Cooper. He was determined to savor every second of this one. Every butter related freak out and every late-night milkshake run.

Being in his house surrounded with all the people he loves, minus a couple who are here in spirit, isn’t something he could ever take for granted. It’s more blessings than he ever hoped to receive in this lifetime.

You look over your shoulder at him and everything about the way you’re looking at him is picture perfect.

Your smile sunshine gold and just for him as you hold his gaze for a moment as time ticks on around the two of you. You send him a little wink before turning back to Mav who has his phone held up for a FaceTime call with Penny and Amelia.

Bradley sees his son peek his head up from where it had been nestled into your neck. Cooper grins when he sees him, his tiny hand reaching out for his dad. For him.

As he makes his way over to the two of you with his heart full, he makes a mental note to ask Mav later where he got that costume. He’s already planning on running out tomorrow to see if they have any more in stock now that it seems they have a new Bradshaw tradition on their hands.

He’s going to have three little turkeys running around this time next year and he couldn’t wait.

Cooper and him were going to be outnumbered soon.

The two of you had found out earlier in the month that Everly Caroline Bradshaw and Olivia Saylor Bradshaw were going to be the newest members to join your little family.

His girls.

It was an announcement the two of you were excited to share later tonight with everyone else when the slices of pies were being passed around.

He scoops up Cooper from you with one arm, dropping a kiss onto his little boy’s perfect curls as his small fist clutches as the soft fabric of his shirt. And then Bradley kisses the crown of your head as he wraps his other arm around you, his thumb stroking the swell of your belly.

With you- because of you- he gets to have it all.

The wife. The family. The house. The dog. The life. The dream.

He’s right where he wants to be.

He’s right where he’s supposed to be.

Happy Thanksgiving! This was such a joy to write, thank you for reading!

It might not be Carole Bradshaw's famous pie, but it's one of my favorites! And who better to share it with than you! Cranberry-Lime Pie

If you haven't read the 'Like I Can' series you can read it here!

You can read my other stories here!

Taglist:

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

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun fanfiction #top gun imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #rooster x you #rooster x reader #rooster x female reader #rooster imagine #bradley rooster x reader #bradley rooster x you

[thankyouivy]

BRO UR LATEST REID FIC WAS AMAZING, you have to write a second part where the team confront/tease Reid for forgetting to hang up his phone 🙏

THANK YOU!!! :]

i’m mixing this with another request I got for the morning after slick tongue.

I hope this is what you were looking for, ngl this was a challenge, which is why it took so long! (also my computer may have broken mid way through writing this so I finished it on my phone which means this is NOT properly proofread or edited OOPS)

ENJOY MY POOKIES <3

warnings: fluff with a bit of suggestiveness but nothing explicit.

———

Sore - Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Morning comes way faster than Spencer hoped it would.

His alarm goes off at 6am, the one he sets for when he's at home with you, that’s quiet enough so it won’t wake you up, but he can still hear it. He reaches over and turns it off, eyes adjusting to the dark room and then turns and gazes at you, still sleeping peacefully.

Your head is rested on his shoulder, nose buried in his neck, and one leg hitched over both of his. You’re practically laying on top of him, getting as close as humanly possible. He smiles lovingly at you and places a delicate kiss on your cheek before carefully slipping his arm out from under you and scooting off the bed, a skill he has picked up since you started dating. He makes his way to the bathroom to shower and get ready, keeping the bedroom lights off to let you continue sleeping.

You are awoken from your sex-induced slumber by the sounds of the morning; your shower running, the morning doves singing outside, anddddd…. Spencer’s phone ringing. You lean over and grab it, checking the number and rubbing your eyes before answering.

“Hey, Penny,” You greet mid-yawn. “Oh my god! Did I wake you up? I'm so sorry! Where's Reid?” She asks quickly. you have a hard time understanding everything she’s saying, and you can tell she’s probably already had her morning coffee… or two.

“It’s alright! I was totally already awake. Spencer’s in the shower, he’ll be at the office in no time im sure.” You answer, sleep still apparent in your voice, with a hint of scratchiness from the strain Spencer caused to your vocal cords last night.

Penelope is saying something, but instead your mind floats to last night's events. You rub your hand over your neck and feel the slight soreness of bruises and the delicate ache in your core burns when you think about last night.

“Sorry - what?” You zone back in, squinting your eyes at the bright iphone screen in the dark room. “I know you got attended to last night, but you don’t have to keep rubbing it in our faces!” She teases and you feel your face heat up as you giggle at her.

You chat with Garcia for a minute before you hear the shower turn off and you suddenly remember why you're on the phone with her at 6 in the morning. “Sorry- what did you need me to tell Spencer?” you say, sitting up in bed.

“Oh yeah, your relationship is like my reality tv and we will be chatting more about your scandalous escapades later. But for now, can you tell him Hotch needs the final witness statements from the last case read over?” Garica answers. That entire sentence sounds like complete FBI gibberish but you get the general idea and promise to relay the info to Spencer before he leaves, and Garcia hangs up with a “Thanks, doll!”

The door to the bathroom opens and Spencer steps out with his toothbrush in his mouth. The light from the bathroom bleeds into the dark bedroom and it makes him look like a God. His hair is damp and messy, he's wearing a towel around his waist, his hips bones and happy trail completely on display. The light from behind him shows off his lightly defined muscles, lean body, and sharp jaw, and you feel yourself going bright red.

“Sorry, sugar, did I wake you up?” He says when he notices you’re sitting up in bed, taking his toothbrush out of his mouth. “No actually, it was Penelope.”

You smile as he walks over to your closet and starts picking up clothes. “What? Garcia called you?” He walks back to the bathroom with his clothes with him to finish brushing his teeth. “No, she called you. Told me to tell you that Hotch needs you to read the witness something-or-other?” You say, slipping out of bed and stretching your arms above your head. “Witness statements?” He asks, smiling at you through the door. “That’s it.”

You know you probably won't be able to fall asleep again after Spencer leaves, so you head to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee after brushing your teeth. Spencer joins you in the kitchen about 10 minutes later, fumbling with his tie. You pass him your cup of coffee and take over, tying it neatly and adjusting his shirt collar as he takes a sip.

He places a kiss on your lips, holding your jaw to tilt your head up with his hand. “Want some breakfast?” you hum happily, arms wrapping around his neck. “Mhmm… maybe not the kind you’re thinking of, though.” He smirks, grabbing your waist to pull you closer and leaning down to kiss you again as you giggle.

“Tempting… but if you show up late again people are going to get suspicious. Plus, I’m still recovering from last night.” You mumble, grinning at him when he goans like a child being denied candy, and just continues kissing you.

When you feel his tongue slide against your bottom lip and attempt to lick into your mouth, you pull away. “Mmmm, Spencer…you need to go…gonna be late…” you say in between pecks. He places one final kiss on your lips before grabbing his stuff and heading out the door with a quick “Bye, baby, have a good day, love you!”

There is something off about the team today.

Spencer can tell.

When he gets to the office, Morgan and Garica spot him immediately. Morgan has that proud-big-brother expression on his face, and pats Spencer on the back before plopping down in his chair, and Garica can’t keep that mischievous look off her face as she seats herself on a spare chair at Derek’s desk.

Spencer gives the pair a confused look, only for Morgan to chuckle at him. “So, nice time last night, Reid?” Morgan smirks.

“Yes, actually, how was the bar?” Spencer responds, confused by the pair’s strange mood, but still engaging in the usual morning small talk while reading over the witness statements like Hotch asked.

“It was fine, I’m sure your night was more eventful than ours, though,” Morgan and Garcia giggle at each other.

Spencer is sure he has never been more confused in his life, but passes it off as the pairs regular unusual banter.

Before he can ask what’s going on, JJ and Emily walk over with coffee, joining the group at their own respective desks.

“How was your night, Spencer?” Emily snickers into her coffee as JJ kicks her leg under her desk and covers her mouth with her hand in an attempt to hide her own smile.

“I- it was fine?” Spencer answers again.

“Just fine?” Another voice asks, as Rossi joins them, knowing smile on his face.

“Okay, enough, will someone please tell me what is going on? is there some new inside joke I missed?” Spencer breaks, the weirdness of the situation overriding his ability to multitask.

“Yes, my night was fine. It was normal, why are you all suddenly interested in what I do when I'm not at work?” Spencer squints inquisitively at them.

“Normal, huh?” JJ giggles, eyeing the rest of the girls, who join in. Spencer gives them a look, bringing a hand up to his face to massage his jaw.

“Something wrong with your jaw, Reid?” Rossi asks with a smirk on his face, and the entire group breaks into a fit of snickers.

“Yeah, it’s just a little sore from- wait.” He pauses, to look around at his friends. “What do you know and how do you know it?” Spencer asks, suspicion evident on his face when the snickers don’t stop.

“Listen, we all can’t be as tech-savvy as me!” Garica grins, and suddenly Spencer remembers. The expression that flashes across his face can only be described as pure terror as he whips out his phone and checks his call history.

Penelope Garica [BAU]

Mobile phone - 2014/01/19

Call Length: 27:34

“Shit.”

Spencer glows bright red as the realization hits him like a truck, the laughs from the team getting impossibly louder as he hides his face in his hands.

More of my stuff can be found here.

~Ivy 🪴

#spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #munch!spencer #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff

[rynwritesreid]

Enamoured Expectations|| Spencer Reid

Summary: You and Spencer have been dating for a while (there isn’t a specific timeline in this story, so you could have been dating for as long as you want) and Penelope tells you a hunch she has.

Content: Established relationship. Use of Y/N and Y/L/N. This is all just fluff. Fem! reader.

words: 1.4k

Masterlist || Requests are open | Navigation

You were truly and utterly deeply in love with Dr Spencer Reid. You knew if you hadn’t been friends with Penelope, you two may have never met, and even if you had, you doubt that Spencer would have even given you a second look. Spencer treats you like a princess, he texts you every chance he gets when he is on a case, he buys you flowers and books when you are feeling down, he orders your favourite food when you don’t feel like eating, he calls you beautiful when you are feeling ugly, and he always says “I love you” before going anywhere.

 

Whenever the team was away on a case, you would go hangout with Penny. She was your best friend after all. You would bring her lunch and let her rant about whatever case they were all working on at the moment. She would always bring up how Spencer couldn’t shut up about you and how amazing you are. Penny thought she was the best match maker to walk on this earth.

 

On one particular evening, you were hanging out with Penny at her apartment. Spencer was away on a case, but he had called earlier to say goodnight and tell you he loved you. It was sweet and made your heart flutter with joy. You and Penny were watching a movie and munching on popcorn when she suddenly turned to you.

 

"Y/N, I have something to tell you," Penny said, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

 

"What is it?" you asked, curious.

 

"I think Spencer is planning to propose to you," she said, grinning widely.

 

“What makes you say that?”

 

Penny leaned in closer, a conspiratorial glint in her eyes. "Well, he's been acting super secretive lately, and he's been asking me a lot of questions about what kind of engagement ring you might like. Plus, he's been talking about the future a lot and how he can't wait to spend the rest of his life with you."

 

You and Spencer had talked about marriage before, you’ve even talked about having children. You had been in love with the idea of been Mrs Reid, and the mother of his children after the first month of dating each other.

 

But hearing that Spencer might be planning to propose felt surreal. You felt like you were in a dream, and you didn't want to wake up. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and your hands were shaking with excitement.

 

"Penny, are you serious?" you asked, trying to contain your emotions.

 

"Dead serious," Penny replied, nodding her head. "I've never seen Spencer this happy before. I think he's finally ready to take the next step with you."

 

You felt a rush of warmth spread through your body, and you couldn't help but smile from ear to ear. You had been waiting for this moment for so long, and now it seemed like it was finally going to happen.

 

"I can't believe it," you said, still in shock. "I mean, I knew we were in love, but I didn't think he was ready for marriage yet."

 

“If you could hear how he talks about you, how he talks about his future with you, then you would understand that he most defiantly ready for marriage, and more.”

 

Penny's words hung in the air, and a smile slowly spread across your face as you felt a wave of happiness wash over you. You had always dreamed of spending your life with Spencer, and the thought of him proposing sent shivers down your spine. You could feel your heart racing as you thought about the moment when he would ask you to be his wife.

 

"Wow," you breathed, still trying to process the news. "I can't believe it. Do you really think he's going to propose?"

 

"I do," Penny said confidently. "And you know what that means, right?"

 

You raised an eyebrow at her, not sure where she was going with this.

 

"It means that you're going to have to start thinking about wedding planning," she said with a grin.

 

You laughed at her teasing tone, but inside, your mind was already racing with ideas. You had always loved the idea of a small, intimate wedding, surrounded by your closest friends and family.

 

*

Spencer had returned home from the case, he seemed down, it had obviously been a tough case. You hated seeing him like this.

 

You greeted him with a hug and a kiss, feeling happy to be in his arms again. As you both settled on the couch, you couldn't help but notice the sadness in his eyes. You reached for his hand, and he entwined his fingers with yours, holding on tight.

 

"Is everything okay, Spencer?" you asked, concerned.

 

He let out a sigh and shook his head. "It's just the case. It was a tough one, and I can't stop thinking about it."

 

“Is there any way I can help you? Do you need anything?”

 

“No. You just been here and been you is all the help I’ll ever need.”

 

You smiled at him, feeling grateful for his love and the comfort he always provided. You knew that talking about the case would help him, but you also knew that he needed some time to process everything on his own.

 

"Okay, well, if you need anything, just let me know," you said softly, pressing a kiss to his temple.

 

Spencer leaned his head on your shoulder, and you could feel his warm breath on your skin. You loved the way he fit perfectly against you, and you felt a deep sense of contentment wash over you.

 

"I missed you so much," he said, his voice muffled against your skin.

 

"I missed you too, Spencer," you replied, stroking his hair gently.

 

You loved him like this. He was open with you, he trusted you, and he was vulnerable with you. It made you feel like you had a special place in his heart, and that you were truly meant to be together. As you held him close, you knew that you would do anything to make him happy, and that included saying yes to his proposal.

 

Suddenly, Spencer sat up and turned to face you. "Y/N, there's something I need to ask you," he said, his eyes shining with intensity.

 

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked into his eyes. You could see the love and affection he had for you, and you knew that this was the moment you had been waiting for.

 

"What is it?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

 

Spencer took a deep breath and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small velvet box and handed it to you, his hands shaking slightly.

 

"Y/N, I love you with all my heart. You make me happier than I ever thought was possible, and I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else. And I imagined I would do this in a different place, at a different time. But you’ve made it impossible for me to wait any longer. Miss Y/N Y/L/N will you marry me?”

 

You felt a rush of emotion flood through you as you looked at the small box in your hand. You opened it to reveal a stunning diamond ring, sparkling in the light. Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes as you realized that this was it. The moment you had been waiting for.

 

"Yes, Spencer," you said, your voice quivering with excitement. "Yes, I will marry you."

 

Spencer's face broke into a wide grin, and he pulled you into his arms. You could feel his heart beating against your chest, and you knew that this was where you were meant to be. Together, forever, and always.

 

As you both sat there, holding each other tightly, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the love you shared. You knew that this was just the beginning of your journey together, and that there would be many more ups and downs along the way. But with Spencer by your side, you truly didn’t care.

 

The rest of the night was a blur of emotions and excitement. You called your parents, and Spencer called his mom, to share the good news. You of course called Penny, while Spencer informed everyone else on his team. Everyone was thrilled for you both. You couldn't stop staring at the ring on your finger, feeling like the luckiest woman in the world.

 

This, this was it. Life was only going to get better from here. The world had brought you two together (the world basically been Penny) and you could not be more grateful. Nothing from your past, or his, mattered now. You two had a future together, a future where you would share the same name, and become a family. He was your great love, and you were his.

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[ddejavvu]

Pizza Box Puzzle Pieces - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake is a responsible drinker, he swears. But when you're stuck being responsible for the night, a very drunk Jake gives you all but one piece to a puzzle you don't complete until the morning after.

Contents/Warnings: drinking, fem!reader, typical hangman behavior, enemies to lovers (really more like rivals to lovers)

Requested: A thousand times congratulations on such an amazing milestone! Could I please have an espresso w. enemies to lovers with Jake ‘hangman’ Seresin? ☀️ - @saintlike78 THIS HAS BEEN IN MY DRAFTS SINCE SEPTEMBER I AM SO SORRY MY LOVE i hope you still like hangman &lt;3

WC: 5.3K / navi

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

Jake Seresin is a responsible drinker. He keeps a rideshare app on his phone, he tells Bob (the permanent sober babysitter) that he needs to be cut off after 10:00 PM, and he gives Penny his keys before he even orders his first drink.

Tonight, though, she'd left them unattended. There they were, shiny and appealing, sitting on the bar. She had left to get a clean dishrag, he could just take them! Driving sounded fun now, less of a chore and more of an adventure now that his brain was blurry.

You watch Jake's eyes widen as he catches sight of his keys, and your hand darts out to snag them before he can. His reflexes are slow, and when he reaches for them, his hand hits empty counter space.

He looks around, bewildered. They'd just disappeared.

"Here, Bagman." You jingle the keys in your hand, and he catches the sound from the few seats down where he's sitting. His eyes drift aimlessly over to your hand, and brighten at the sight of his keys.

"Thanks," He drawls, his southern lilt far more noticeable now that he's running on autopilot, "I'm gonna-" he hiccups hard, his chest bouncing, "Head home."

He stands, wobbly on his feet, and treads forwards to take the keys from you. You raise them above your head, but he doesn't follow, instead slumping forwards as his hand grasps at thin air. His head hits your chest and Coyote catches your eye from over Jake's shoulder. You widen your eyes, flaunting the keys you'd managed to snatch from him.

All the pilot does is laugh, and then his attention is shifted back to the dartboard. Typical.

"Jesus," You grunt, pushing at Jake's chest. He straightens up again, eyes blinking open from where they'd been shut, "What did you drink?"

"I don't remember," He admits, and that's all the explanation you need.

"Come on," You reach for his pocket, his phone sticking out, "Let's call you a ride."

"Nooo," He darts away, almost too late to evade you, "That's my phone."

"Yes Hangman," You smirk, "I think you're smarter drunk than you are sober."

"But that's-" He fumbles with his cell, "You can't touch my phone."

"I want to get you home," You urge, once more reaching for the device in his hands, "Don't you want to go to sleep?"

"You can't have it," He insists, yanking the waistband of his khakis off of his stomach and slipping his phone dangerously close to his crotch, "Unless you-" Another hiccup that flutters his eyelashes, "-wanna take it."

The smirk he shoots you after shoving his phone down his pants contains lethal cockiness. You're surprised the sheer size of his ego doesn't knock you down, you're not sure how you're standing so close to him without running into it.

You glance down at his phone. It's protruding just enough from his waistband for it to be quick and easy to grab. But your hand has never been that close to Jake's dick before, and you're hoping it never will be.

"Fuck," You deflate, shoulders slumping as your fingers curl tighter around his keys, "Come on, I'm driving you."

"Take my car," He insists, as if he's forgotten you have his keys, "It's.. It's really cool."

"Can't wait," You  gripe, slinging his arm around your shoulders, "Come on, one foot in front of the other, Seresin."

The cold night air hits you like a tsunami. It floods your thin shirt and seeps into your bones, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. You've never known it to get this cold here, and the skin-to-skin that Jake's shoulder provides against your own is your only warmth.

You prop him up against his car while you fumble with the keys, but before you can click the 'unlock' button, he's snatching them from you.

"I wanna- I wanna do it," He insists, gripping the pointed end and bumping it up against the panel on the outside of the keyhole, "It's my car, I wanna.. do it."

You give him a minute to figure out the key. After it passes you yank it from where he's been pathetically butting it up against the hole, still confused about how to slot it inside.

"Gimme," You grumble, sliding the key into the hole with barely a second's delay, "You're too drunk for this."

"I'm not drunk." He scoffs. He says it with so much sincerity, with so much raw belief, that you're surprised that it doesn't come into existence. You're surprised the alcohol doesn't drain from his system completely, and leave him his usual coordinated, upright self. But he's still leaning against his car, half-coherent and dizzy.

"Right." You chuckle, throwing open the driver's side door and unlocking the rest of the car, "Get in, Hangman."

He starts for your seat and you shove him away, "No, not the driver's seat," You groan, "Other side."

He starts for the backseat.

"For fuck's sake," You exclaim, grabbing his bicep to lead him around the car, "The passenger's side!"

You get him wrestled into his seat with no further drunken antics, and you relish the fact that you've gotten him calm for the night. He's anything but when you finally glance up at his face, though, great big tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

"You're mean." He whispers, his voice shaky. You've never seen such a pitiful sight, his big green eyes brimming with anguish that seeps down his cheeks in rivers of tears. "You grabbed me, and-" He waves his bicep at you, "And you manhandled me," He gushes, angst-stricken, "You're mean!"

"I'm sorry," You sigh, playing into his inebriated sorrow, "Are you okay, Hangman?"

He doesn't note the sarcasm in your voice, sniffling pathetically, "No. It hurts."

You offer a quick pat to the affected area, but he shakes his head.

"Kiss." He offers in explanation, 'Kiss it better."

"I am not going to-" You begin, rage evident in your voice. Then you glance back up at his eyes, filled with new tears.

It's a staring contest for a moment, but you break first. You hunch, bracing yourself for the most humiliating thing you've ever had to do when you pucker your lips and press them into his bicep.

It's firm. Fuck, you wish it wasn't, it holds up under your lips and warms them. It's intoxicating, your lips on his skin, so close to his chest. It's exhilarating. You have to get away.

"There." You grouse, practically glaring at him despite the blush at your cheeks as you straighten, "Better?"

"Yes," He whimpers, and it's small, broken, pathetic, "Thank you."

You shut the door without another word, letting him wipe his own tears.

His car is surprisingly nice. Where you'd expect fast food wrappers and condoms, you find an air freshener.

He grabs it excitedly, shoving it into your face as you start down the road, "Darlin' you gotta- gotta smell! It smells like ocean breeze."

It slips over your eyes and you strain to get away from it, "Okay, Hangman, okay! It smells very nice," You gush, giving him the attention he's seeking. He preens proudly as he hooks it around his mirror once more, but he doesn't settle into his seat.

"Those are cool jeans," He prods a finger at your thigh, and even though you know it's drunken rather than lustful, his touch makes you shiver.

"They were five dollars," You humor him, feeling him fiddle carefully with the ripped strands of fraying string showcasing your skin.

"Cheap." He murmurs, concentration far too heavy on rearranging the strings. Half of them have ripped beyond repair from where they were stretched over your thigh, but he seems to be playing with them like they're yarn to a housecat. You have the sudden urge to run a hand through his hair and see if he purrs.

"My house is that way," Jake points blearily through the windshield down a one-way street, "It's the big blue one."

"You live in an apartment," You turn the wheel in the opposite direction, "And it's not blue, and it's not that way."

"Oh so you-" He hiccups, "-know where I live?"

"I do," You nod, keeping your eyes on the road even when his fingers keep pawing at your jeans, "I've been there before. Remember? We had a movie night."

"Oh yeah," He nods, brow furrowed, "Payback spilled his water on my carpet."

"Not water," You snort, remembering the cheap liquor spilled over the shag, "But yeah, he did."

There's a bout of silence that follows your words, shadows ripping through the car as you pass beneath trees. The road is paved unevenly in a few spots, and Jake's car bounces on its tires.

"Woah," He grumbles, head bumping your shoulder after a particularly raucous pothole, "Look! Look they're in a- a heart."

You slow to a stop in front of his apartment and glance down to where his finger is digging into your thigh. The loose strings on your jeans have all been twisted and tied into a heart that overlays the rip, puffy and frayed where it rests against your leg.

"Oh," You let the sincerity of the gesture steal the breath from your lungs, even if it does come out of a drunk man, "That's pretty, Hangman. Thanks."

You unlatch your seatbelt, breaking his trance. The heart, tied at the bottom and woven through other strands at its apexes, stays tightly knotted into your jeans, and you wonder if you'll ever be able to get it out. It's the last of your concerns, though, as Jake fumbles with his own seatbelt.

He finally jabs just right at the button, though it's after a string of mumbled frustrations. You swear you hear something along the lines of "You're pretty." thrown into the mix, but you choose to ignore it so that your hands don't get sweaty. You probably misheard.

It's a wonder that he's able to get himself out of the car. He lands with a crunch of gravel onto the driveway of his apartment, feet planted firmly beneath him. You suppose he might have sobered slightly during the long, quiet drive, and you're just glad you don't have to press him to yourself anymore to keep him upright.

Thankfully, he knows which door is his, but he forgets that you have his keys. You keep a hand stuffed into your pocket, curled around them, while he fumbles in his pocket for them.

“Damn,” He hisses, patting his pockets and coming up empty, “My- my keys are gone. I think someone took them, we have to-”

“I have your keys,” You’re far too smug as you hold them up, the ring hooked over your middle finger, “Remember? That’s why I drove?”

“Oh.” His brows furrow, and the word adorable flashes through your head before you can stop it. As soon as you acknowledge it, though, it’s gone in a puff of smoke.

“I’ll do it.” You carefully shoo his hands away from the door, slipping the key in and turning it. His apartment is neat, you’ll give him that, but you suppose it’s because he doesn’t have time to mess it up. You toe off your shoes in the doorway, leaving them in a heap which he contributes to. His boots are going to muck up your white wedges, but you can’t care about that right now. What’s more important is making sure Hangman doesn’t head straight for his own liquor stash, which of course, he does.

“No,” You rush for the bottle he’s about to grab, “You’re cut off for the night. Remember?”

“No,” His brow furrows, and he stares at your fingers wrapped around his own against the neck of the bottle, “I don’t.”

At least you know he’s being honest. You pry his hand off of the bottle, setting it back on the counter and letting go of his fingers. You expect them to drop but they don’t, they curl around your own and slot your palms together.

You stiffen but he doesn’t seem to notice, his hand still enveloping yours in a gesture that sends heat rushing up from your fingertips and straight to your heart. You glance down first, then up at him, finding a gooey, lovesick smile on his face paired with empty eyes.

“Hi, darlin’.” He gushes, and squeezes your hand.

Fuck.

“Okay, bedtime.” You decide, trying to pry your hand out of his grip. He won’t let you, though, the more you pull the closer he gets. Until he’s pressed to you, his right thigh to your left, chest-to-chest, smiling contently at you. 

If you can’t make him let go, you suppose you can move. So you do, you lead him through the short hallway, and flick the light on in his bedroom. His room is.. less neat. There’s clothes on the floor, and what looks dangerously like an old pizza box sticking out from under the bed. You decide to ignore it for time’s sake, your main goal is to get Jake into bed before he tips over.

He looks close to it now, stumbling towards his nightstand to snatch a necklace off of it. It’s a delicate silver chain, and there’s a pretty heart pendant on it.

“Look,” He shows it off, “‘S my mom’s. She gave it to me before I came down here.”

“That’s very sweet,” You croon, and all of a sudden you want to know more about Mama Seresin, “I think I’d like to see you wear that someday, Hangman.”

“That’d look silly.” He muses, eyes shiny as they rove over the charm, finally putting it down to look back at you, “But if you’d really like it I’ll do it.”

You suppose that if anything comes out of his drunken stupor, it’ll be a hell of a lot of blackmail material. Apparently he’s blabby when drunk, and you’ll definitely ask why he’s not wearing his mom’s necklace tomorrow when you meet for breakfast.

“Okay, Jake, let’s get you changed.” You hum, glancing around his room and peering apprehensively at his dresser. You turn back, intent on asking him which drawers you should avoid opening, and are met with-

“Jake! Put- put your pants back on!”

Your hands fly to your eyes to shield yourself from the sight of Jake Seresin’s Uncovered Crotch, but you forget that he’s still clinging tight to you, and he stumbles along with you. All you can do is let out a strangled cry as his outer thigh presses against yours, praying nothing else will.

“Put your boxers back on,” You beg, “And- and get into pajamas! Oh my god.”

“Yeah,” Jake giggles, far too inebriated to read the room, “That’s what they all say.”

“I hate you,” You groan, and finally, he lets go of your hand.

There’s absolute silence for too long, but just before you can urge him to hurry up and get dressed, he speaks.

“You do?”

HIs voice is unlike you’ve ever heard it. Jake has a particular talent for boasting, and his voice often bleeds confidence, loud and strong and clear. Now it’s small, unsure and weak.

“Get dressed,” You huff, “With pants, please.”

You’re not eager to admit it, but you don’t hate him. Not at all. Sure, he annoys you, but he annoys everyone. He shoves confetti through the slats in your locker so that opening it triggers a snowstorm, he steals food from your plate when his own is nearly full, and he always, always knocks his knuckles against your helmet. But he’s never mean, he’s never insulted you or pushed you or demeaned you. So you can’t find it in yourself to hate him, even if you don’t always like him.

Or maybe you do. Maybe you bite back a smile when you find confetti on the ground, and maybe you bend over with your back to him just in case he likes what he sees. Maybe you steal his food right back, and maybe the best part of your day is when you make it a competition, and he practically crawls over Fanboy to try to nab a piece of your orange chicken. Maybe the rapping of his knuckles on your helmet makes you want to respond by bumping it against his chest, an urge you’ve never dared to act on.

Feigning hatred is much easier, you’ve found, than admitting love.

His voice cuts through your thoughts, still devoid of its usual enthusiasm, “I’m dressed.”

You let your hands fall to your sides with a relieved sigh, and though your vision is somewhat bleary from being covered for so long, you work with it, blinking until you can see his form, already under the covers on his bed and facing away from you.

“Okay,” You hum awkwardly, glancing around the room, “You’re gonna need medicine in the morning. And water, so-”

“Pills are in the bathroom cabinet, there’s a cup on the counter.” He drawls, voice muffled by his pillow.

You bustle off to gather those, and when you reenter his bedroom you find him staring at the wall. It’s a sad expression, an empty one, but you suppose that’s what binge drinking does to a man.

“I’m gonna head out,” You speak to his back, setting the pills and glass down on his nightstand, “Are you.. gonna be okay?”

“Yeah,” He hums, “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” You mumble, more than ready to flee the awkward scene, “Bye, Jake.”

“Do you really hate me?”

You freeze in the doorway, heart thudding in your chest. You turn slow, your eyes meeting Jake’s before your body faces him, giving you enough time to figure out a response.

“No,” You speak carefully, “I- I was just teasing, Jake. I don’t hate you.”

“You’re sure?” He peers up anxiously at you, looking more like a scared child than a naval aviator, “You really don’t?”

“I’m sure,” You nod, gracing him with a soft smile to soothe his nerves, “I don’t hate you, Jake.” “Okay,” He breathes, his frown flattening out into a neutral expression as his eyes drink you in, “Thanks, Y/N. For taking care of me.”

“Anytime,” You promise, and you mean it more than you’ll let on, “Get some rest, Jake, we’re meeting for breakfast at nine tomorrow.”

He nods, and that’s your cue to leave. Your shoes are still by the door, and you slip them on, fiddling with the straps. When you straighten up from where you’d hunched over you spot Jake’s keys where you’d left them on his entryway table, and realize he won’t know where they are in the morning. You don’t want him to panic, so you scoop them up, knowing that his door auto-locks behind him as a part of the apartment’s security features. You’ll be able to leave without the keys, and he won’t be at risk overnight.

You pad quietly back into his room, intent on setting the keys by the glass of water and leaving. But you realize that he’s already asleep, the magic of booze eliciting soft, even breaths from him that ricochet off of the pillow he’s smushed against and blow his hair back. You stifle a giggle at the sight, and pride yourself for how much self control it takes not to record it.

You set the keys down, and your heel catches on the pizza box beneath his bed. Your nose wrinkles, and you decide there’s no good reason for Jake to be keeping old food under his bed, of all places.

You pick it up and it feels nearly empty, prompting confusion on your part. Pizza is not weightless. 

Maybe you should, maybe you shouldn’t, but you decide to flip the lid open. You brace the box on his nightstand and pop the top, your eyes landing on a collection of memorabilia inside, not cheese and bread.

You recognize a chubby baby as Jake himself, a slightly aged photo that looks delicate. You bite back a soft smile, but decide that his baby pictures are none of your business, fingers ghosting over the lid to shut it once more now that you know he’s not hoarding Papa John’s beneath his mattress.

Just before the lid closes, your heart stops. Your eyes catch a picture of just about the last face you’d ever expect to see in a pizza box under Jake Seresin’s bed: your own. It’s a picture of you talking to Payback, eyes shut and crinkled at the corners, mouth open in a laugh you’re sure was less-than-graceful at whatever the other aviator had said. You pick the photo up, pushing away a jewelry box that’s lying on top of its corner, and finding dozens more of your squadron beneath it. There’s one flipped on its front, and Jake’s scrawled sharpie over it, ‘Rooster being dumb. 6-07-2022.’

Upon inspection, the photo is of Bradley making a fool of himself. He’s halfway to the ground, foot caught in the sand as he topples over. You remember that day, you’d all laughed when he’d emerged with a mustache-full of sand.

You flip the photo of yourself, brows furrowing when the description is less-than-understandable.

‘Third time. 5-03-2021.’

Third time.. Third time you’d… laughed at Payback’s jokes? Definitely not, he’s quick on his toes and surprisingly witty.

Thumbing through each photo of you and your friends, the descriptions are all simple. ‘Natasha losing a bet’ showcases her rare defeated look, and of course Jake would have that documented. ‘Fanboy exhaling lemonade’ is self-explanatory, the substance shooting out of his nose in response to the Bradley-Sand-Mustache incident. The only ones you can’t figure out are your own, ‘First time. 4-25-2020’, ‘Second time. 10-10-2020’, and even, ‘Relapse. 9-14-2022;.

For the life of you, you can’t figure them out. You realize that you’ve been sifting through Hangman’s personal possessions far longer than you should have been, stuffing them all back inside the pizza box and sliding it beneath his bed. Something strange and confusing clouds your brain as you make your way to the front door, and you barely remember to listen for the click of the automatic lock when you leave.

Your apartment isn’t far from Jake’s, it’s only a few streets down, and you’d hitched a ride with Omaha to the Hard Deck anyways. You won’t make him pick you up to drive you three blocks.

There’s something infuriating about knowing that Jake writes about you in code. It’s like a mental game, and you’re losing. You ponder it all the way back to your apartment, and you dig your own keys out of your pocket to get yourself inside.

Your determination to figure Jake’s code out only transforms into insomnia, and you fall asleep at nearly three in the morning, alarms set for five hours ahead, wondering if you’ll ever find out what they mean.

--

Surprisingly, for how you’d left him last night, Jake is the first one to show up to Team Breakfast. Your typical spot at the local cafe is inhabited by none other than Hangman, checking his watch to see how late everyone was running so far.

“You’re here early,” You marvel, and his head shoots up to meet your gaze. He grins sheepishly, nodding, “I had too much of a headache to go back to sleep.”

“Oooh,” You laugh, “Tough luck.”

“Yeah. Reckon’ I drank a lot last night?” He asks, already grimacing in expectation of your response. 

You take a particular pleasure in nodding, “You tried kissing Bradley.”

He hadn’t, at least, not on this particular occasion. Rooster has gotten his fair share of Drunk Hangman Love, as have you all, but this time he’d stayed away from anything too intimate.

“Shit,” Hangman grimaces, screwing his eyes up and plunking his chin to his chest, “I thought you said Bob was gonna start watching out for that?”

“He did,” You snort, “He saw it about to happen, and left before you could do it to him. He watched out for himself.”

Jake mumbles something, probably along the lines of ‘typical’, but it’s as he raises his head again, and the glint of something silver at his neck catches your eye. You squint, hard, glimpsing a familiar heart-shaped pendant pressed to his chest and outlined beneath his shirt.

“Oh my god,” You laugh, “The necklace! You’re really wearing it.”

He bites back a smirk and fits his lips to the rim of his water glass instead, “I told you I’d wear it. I’m no chicken.”

“Send a picture to your mom,” You suggest, “Tell her you’ve got her heart with you.”

His smile dims, something apprehensive in his eyes.

“You went through the box under my bed last night, didn’t you?”

You still at the question, your eyes wide, “What?”

“I heard you,” He admits, “I’m- I’m not mad, or anything. I just.. I know you did.”

“I’m sorry,” Even if he’s not upset, you feel awkward, like a kid caught elbow-deep in the cookie jar, “It was none of my business, I shouldn’t have-”

“No,” He shakes his head, reaching back for the clasp on the necklace, “It was your business. Is, if..” He hesitates, face screwed up in concentration.

“Y/N,” He finally continues, necklace now pinched between his fingers, “This isn’t my mom’s.”

“Oh?” You pry cautiously, “Who’s is it, then?”

“Yours.” He admits, and your brows furrow.

“It’s not mine, I’ve never had one like that. I- I guess someone must have left it at your apartment or something, maybe Phoenix?”

“No,” He sighs, eyes screwed shut, “I mean- I mean I bought it for you.”

“You,, you bought that necklace.. for me?”

“Yeah,” He nods, “Did you see the box in there?”

You nod, recalling the teal case.

“I bought it for you for your birthday last year. Chickened out before I could give it to you, though. That’s why I had to give you half a bottle of whiskey.”

His lackluster birthday present made a lot more sense now.

“I know you saw the pictures I’ve got of you,” He continues, keeping his eyes on the pendant of the necklace that he’s pressing against his thumb, “I just thought.. I’d get everything off my chest.”

“First time..” You recall, and he raises his eyes to you questioningly.

“The pictures of me,” You prompt him, “On the back, you had little.. notes? Captions? Whatever, they said first time, second time, third time, relapse. What did those mean?”

He stares at you, the prolonged eye contact making you squirm.

“You sure you don’t hate me?” He asks, just as timid as he had the night before.

“Jake- of course I don’t hate you!” You promise, “Just- tell me, please?”

“They’re every time I fell in love with you.” He murmurs, and your entire world stops spinning. You’ve built it carefully on a foundation of Jake-directed sarcasm and a healthy distance away from your fellow aviator, and when the word ‘love’ slips from his lips the foundation crumbles. You feel everything collapse, every witty comeback, every dramatic eye-roll, every logical pushback. Nothing remains, except love. The word, the feeling, the sound of it coming from his mouth. 

Apparently the demolition of your entire world takes too much time. Jake cringes, tucking the necklace into his fist and going to pocket it, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have- fuck, I should have just shut my mouth. I won’t bring it up again, we can just forget this, and-”

“Stop,” You reach for his hand, covering his closed fist with your open palm, “Give me the necklace.”

He unfurls his hand, slowly, unsurely. His eyes linger on you, and he watches as you carefully scoop the jewelry from his palm, your fingers delicately brushing over the heart.

“You really love me?” You verify, keeping your eyes on the silver charm so that if this is some sick joke, you won’t see him break the facade. You won’t see the adoration in his eyes turn to mockery, the love to hatred.

“I really do,” He promises, “And I know that I’m not the best at communicating that…”

“What with the constant teasing and badgering?” You glance up at him for the first time since his confession, your view of his face obscured by your lashes.

“Yeah,” He grimaces, “That.”

“Can I be honest with you, Jake?” You bite the inside of your cheek, regretting admitting what you’re about to say before you’ve even said it.

“Yeah,” He breathes, and you think he expects the worst.

“I kind of like it,” You admit, and his frown breaks. 

“I knew it,” He gloats, his grin wide and bright, “I knew there was a reason you never say anywhere I couldn’t steal your food.”

“Yeah, yeah,” You groan, closing your fist around the necklace, “I haven’t responded to your confession yet, have I, Seresin? Don’t get too cocky.”

As much as you’re teasing him, he takes it seriously. His grin dims, and his eyes soften, worry pooling in his irises.

“I..” You start, eyes on the heart that still lies in the rips of your jeans instead of his own gaze, “I love you, too.”

“You do?” You think you’re starting to like his voice when it’s not brash and cocky, instead sincere and a little timid.

“I do,” You nod, glancing back up at him, “And.. I don’t really know what to do about that. I tried to ignore it, because we work together, and because I wasn’t sure you liked me back, but.. I do love you, Jake.”

“That,” He smiles, real and genuine, “Is something I’ve wanted to hear you say for years, darlin;.”

“Well. you should thank your inebriated self last night,” You laugh, letting him take the necklace from your fist and unclasp it, “You’re very touchy when you’re drunk, and I may or may not have seen your penis.”

“That’s.. not something I remember.” Jake grimaces, pausing with the necklace open in his hands, “Was it.. I mean- did you.. like it?”

“Quit while you’re ahead,” You advise Jake, leaning forwards so that he can wrap his arms around your neck, “I’m not talking about your dick at brunch with our friends.”

“They’re not here yet,” He murmurs, and when you lock eyes, you take in the fact that he’s only inches from your face.

There’s a soft click as he clasps the necklace against the base of your hairline, then he drops it to your neck. The chain is cold, but Jake’s hands are warm where they smooth over your cheeks. You let your lashes flutter shut, lips already slightly puckered, waiting for the press of his own over them. You can’t be but a hair’s breadth away from kissing Jake when a shrill scream comes from the parking lot, and your eyes snap open with a start.

You turn, but he doesn’t release your face, instead pressing his cheek to yours as you both look for the culprit. It’s not Natasha you find with her hands clamped over her mouth, but Rooster, though the former is smirking.

“We carpooled,” She informs you, elbowing Bradley in the side, “We were only five minutes late, and you guys have already sucked face?”

“I gave her the necklace,” Hangman reaches over to show off the charm around your neck, “I, uh- asked for Phoenix’s help buying it. I didn’t know what you’d like.”

“Thanks,” You laugh sheepishly, though you’re not sure who you’re talking to. Maybe both of them, “Uh, is that Fanboy’s car?”

It is, tires crunching against spare bits of asphalt as he turns into the parking lot.

“Coyote’s in there, too,” Hangman groans, pulling back from where you’d been smushed together, “Let’s hope they didn’t see.”

“Oh, we’ll tell them,” Natasha promises, and her laugh can only be described as maniacal, “They each owe me $20, they thought she’d say no.”

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin blurb #jake seresin oneshot #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin fic #hangman #hangman x reader #hangman imagine #hangman x you #hangman x y/n #hangman fluff #hangman blurb #hangman oneshot #hangman drabble #jake seresin drabble #jake seresin x reader fanfiction #hangman fanfic #hangman fic #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin imagine #hangman x reader fanfiction #jake hangman seresin fanfic #jake hangman seresin fic

[goodnightmemes]

THE FALL OF THE HOUSE OF USHER SENTENCE STARTERS

❛ I'm sorry for your loss, your...your losses, rather. ❜

❛ Nobody gets away with anything. Not really. ❜

❛ Don't lecture me about family values. You're just as shit in that department as I am. ❜

❛ That day was the last day we were all in the same place. Alive. ❜

❛ They will love you because I love you, and the only thing stronger than love is how scared they are of getting cut out of the will. ❜

❛ And most people go their whole, wasted, stupid lives without one minute of true resolution. Not me though. ❜

❛ You know what a resolution is? It's a deal you make with the future. ❜

❛ The people in charge of making us healthy make us sick. We cheat the dying. We fleece the poor. Promote the racist. Let the demons run amok. This world needs changing. ❜

❛ You're supposed to be shadowing me. Shadows don't fucking talk. ❜

❛ This is beneath you. And you're going to kill it. But you're better than all of this. And the minute you figure that out, you're going to be unstoppable. ❜

❛ There's no such thing as a step back. You go forward. If you hit a brick wall, you don't go back, you go through. ❜

❛ Nearly realized is the sweetest. It's better, I promise, in the moment just before than in the moment after. ❜

❛ You are consequence. And tonight, you are consequential. ❜

❛ You are a pretty, pretty little thing. ❜

❛ You wonder why people hate us. This is why. ❜

❛ Everybody knows that edible arrangements are what you send to people you hate. ❜

❛ If you start thinking this is reality, you'll just slip into the abyss. ❜

❛ We can talk about it after because I've had a shit day and I really just wanna starfish and forget the world. ❜

❛ Don't talk to me until I've come at least twice. ❜

❛ I love how deliciously, pointlessly mean you lot can be. ❜

❛ You still didn't need to come here though. It could have happened quiet. Peaceful. In bed. But I guess it's got to happen like this. ❜

❛ It's amazing how far you can get on denial. You know why so many people use denial to get by? Because it really fucking works. ❜

❛ You can't enhance this image? You see it all the time on TV. They hit a button, it enhances it. ❜

❛ I don't even own anything funeral black. ❜

❛ Satin is silk for poor people, no one should wear it to a funeral, unless they died in it. ❜

❛ Nobody knows they're the fall guy until they're falling.❜

❛ Women are the natural leaders of the species. Ancient Egypt had it right. ❜

❛ Okay, just because the door's open doesn't necessarily guarantee you a seat at the table. ❜

❛ You're not who I thought you were. ❜

❛ I really didn't want to think it, but...you're all fucking monsters. ❜

❛ Watching you shit on your principles would have been worth every fucking penny. ❜

❛ The mind of guilt is full of scorpions. And I wouldn't wish their sting on anyone. ❜

❛ Don't have to be smart to be dangerous. I'm not scared of rattlesnakes 'cause they're so smart. ❜

❛ You're so out of touch with your human side...you can't even listen to anything outside your own head. ❜

❛ I haven't seen you sleep in like...I mean, it's been a fucking long time. Like, horror movie long. ❜

❛ Life is insane. It is madness. The sooner you understand that, the better off you'll be. ❜

❛ The world might not be safe but listen to me, and listen carefully. I won't let anything happen to you. ❜

❛ All these terrible things and I thought, that's when people come together. But we've never been further apart. ❜

❛ Tell me it's worth it. Tell me you know the risk and I'll be there with you. I'll back you up. Just tell me. ❜

❛ Shut your mouth, get your shit together. The fuck is wrong with you? ❜

❛ Men, when they think they're immortal, all they want to do is fuck. When they figure out they're going to die, all they want to do is fuck. ❜

❛ It just makes you think, you know, life is so fucking short. ❜

❛ You don't have to be a tyrant, but if you don't want to be consistently cruel, then you have to be sufficiently brutal at least once to establish authority. ❜

❛ I thought it was an act. I figured you just played the housewife so you could keep a roof over your head. Spread your legs or suck his dick twice a week and you're set. You never have to work a day in your life. And I thought, "Good for her, she found her angle," but...this is really you. Isn't it? ❜

❛ Words got us into this, words can get us out. ❜

❛ You're a collection of impeccable, elaborate masks in orbit of a stunted heart. ❜

❛ There are certain things one shouldn't have to face in life. Time enough for self-reflection after. ❜

❛ I don't normally like to get my hands this dirty, but honey, you earned it. ❜

❛ I see you now. I look at you and I see... You. The poverty of you. ❜

❛ The real world is Darwinian. Survival, chaos, power. Leverage. ❜

❛ You feel it. In the air. We're sitting outside of time and space. ❜

❛ This is the moment luck meets opportunity. ❜

❛ In the ancient world, we'd seal this with blood, or spit. And then later, papyrus. But, a deal's a deal all over the world. ❜

❛ We're a... virus, I think. People, I mean. ❜

❛ But everyone loves something. And in that love there's collateral. ❜

❛ I say this with love. Let it go. Let it all go. ❜

❛ So I say, we stand tall and proud. Bill's come due. Let's not hide here in the basement like we've got something to be ashamed of. No. Not us. You and me against the world. ❜

❛ It may not have been perfect, but you can't say we didn't change the world. How many people can say that at the end? ❜

❛ I knew I would climb to the top of the tower on a pile of corpses. ❜

❛ It don't matter in the end why you did any of it. I don't fucking care why you did it. We don't want your confession, or your rationale, or your explanation. ❜

#a condensed version of the previous two #rp meme #rp prompt #sentence starters #sentence meme #roleplay prompts #roleplay meme #inbox memes #*tv #*tfothou

[snapscube]

Just to piggy-back off of that "who is doing the voices in your Pikman 3 vid?" ask, I just wanted to say 1) you're an amazing VA and 2) my favorite bit of yours is when you read 90% of the dialogue as it's written and fool my brain into thinking it's in-game VA, and then you make the character say something totally wild and out of character.

penny’s trick >:)

[ohbo-ohno]

I love your work!! Congrats on 1k followers- your fics are amazing💙💙 May I request ‘country house’ and ‘something isn’t right about (setting). Something is off.’ ? Maybe with Price x reader please? (-:

1k game here - no more please!

i have an unreasonably difficult time thinking of a "something's off" for these prompts. but we write on nonetheless!

1.1k of price being your young daughter's "imaginary" friend. fair warning, this one doesn't have an actual price appearance, it's mostly just vibes. (cw for implied stalking/haunting, no smut!)

The big country house is your dream home.

It had come when you most needed it - your sister had finally gotten tired of letting you and your five year old couch surf and kicked you out with no warning, leaving you with only your car to live in and no prospects.

You'd been driving through a tiny town, only even heard about the house because of a kind waitress who took pity on you when you told her about your situation. She introduced you to her younger sister, a local realtor who'd recently marked down a nice family home to practically nothing because she couldn't get it to sell.

It had seemed too good to be true, honestly. The house is a grand thing - two stories, a wraparound porch, relatively new appliances. The price you paid - you negotiated down - was practically pennies.

But you don't have the privilege of questioning your blessings with a little one relying on you. So you tell yourself that this is just good karma, and you get yourself moved into the home as quickly as possible.

It's weeks later, from that same waitress, that you learn why the house was so cheap. Apparently a local man had been murdered there only a few months ago - a robbery gone wrong, if your source is to be believed, and an apparently very violent death for the poor man living there alone.

It certainly changes the way you feel in the house, knowing that something so horrible happened less than a year ago. The house still feels the same, but you look at it with the knowledge of who might've been there before.

You're... well, you're very lonely these days. You work long hours at home, holed up in your home office, responding to emails and sitting on calls all day. You only really leave to drop off your daughter and to pick her up, or if she wants to go somewhere in the city. If it were up to you, you'd never leave your new property.

And the house isn't small - you've never lived in a multiple story house, let alone one with no one else there. You can never fully shake the paranoia that someone else could be in the house with you, and you'd never know.

You remind yourself that you need to get a dog as soon as you can afford one, and try to wipe the nervousness from your mind.

When summer hits, you and your daughter spend most of your days at home. The house came with quite a bit of land, more than enough for a little five year old to amuse herself with on a nice summer day. You find that you enjoy sitting on the back porch with a cool drink and a book, keeping one eye on the story and another on your daughter while she plays with her dolls.

She doesn't have many friends. You'd worry, but she's always been a happy girl, and she doesn't seem to have any sort of social issues. You don't have the money to get her to a doctor, so you comfort yourself with the idea that she's just a shy child.

So you spend your summer, just the two of you. You spend an almost regrettable amount of time in your office with the door open so you can hear if something goes wrong, but you watch the small nest-egg grow in your bank account, and you tell yourself you'll make it up to your little girl by spoiling her later.

You only start to grow truly concerned about midway through the summer, when your daughter comes to you and tells you about an imaginary friend.

"John says we should play outside today," she says over breakfast one morning, casual as can be between mouthfuls of pancake.

"What's that, honey?" You ask, only half paying attention as you mix another batch.

"John wants to go outside. He's says it's a nice day. He doesn't like that you stay inside so much."

That makes you pause, turning to look over at your daughter. She's never known a John in her life. You have no idea where this is coming from.

"Who's John, sweetheart?"

"My friend," she replies, swinging her legs above the floor, happy as can be. "He was here first. We play together when you're workin'."

You blink at her a little dumbly. You know, logically, that John must be an imaginary friend - someone her little five year old mind has conjured in all her hours alone in the big house. But still, your simmering paranoia about there being someone else in the house spikes.

"Have I ever met John, honey?"

"Nuh-uh," she giggles a little, looking at you with an expression that says silly mommy. "John's not really there, mommy. That's why I gotta take everything outside."

You nod a little, your worry assuaged. It's just an imaginary friend - a perfectly normal kid thing.

"Well," you hum, turning to the skillet to start on your own pancakes. "I wouldn't mind working on the porch today, baby. You and John can play outside all you want."

It should be just that. It is just that.

Except... the idea of an imaginary friend eats at you.

As the pieces start connecting you tell yourself that you've spent too much time alone in this big old house. You tell yourself you need to get out, to find communities for both you and your baby to get involved with.

But the dots still connect.

You think of all the times you've heard your daughter start crying in the middle of the night, only for her to be giggling by the time you get to her room. You think of the night you were sure you left the stove on (you'd planned to make brownies, but gotten distracted while the oven preheated) only to find it completely turned off when you rushed downstars.

You think of the full conversations your sweet baby girl tells about John. She tells you he's tall, with a big beard, and a funny hat. She says he's got a nice voice and soft hands. She says he tells her bedtime stories, and that he has a funny accent.

You sit on the porch one night, and the back door opens behind you. Instead of the sound of small feet pattering towards you, there's silence. The door closes another moment later.

Your daughter tells you that John thinks you should spend more time with them - not her, with them.

The bed is made one day when you're sure you hadn't bothered in the morning. You'd been overwhelmed with work, had been too stressed to bother tucking in your comforter. When you go to bed that night, it's perfectly made with almost military precision.

You watch from the porch as your daughter giggles with her doll, dancing the little toy through the air and talking to nothing. You blow a cool breath over your mug, and tell yourself there's nothing there.

That night, there's a spot of warmth in your bed when you lay down to sleep.

#idk why i keep giving price's readers children #sorry to those of you not down for single mom readers lmfao #deal with it! #bo writes #1k celebration #price x reader #john price x reader #cod fanfic #call of duty fanfic

[punishereditz]

Jazzy Woman

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Plus size!f!reader

Warnings: 18 plus only! Minors DNI! DO NOT COPY! Lead up to smut. Fluff. Unprotected sex. P in V. Oral. (f receiving) Praise kink. Size kink. Riding. Fingering. Hair pulling. Insecure reader. Mentions of insecurities and self-doubt.

AN: As someone who is plus sized; this story truly means the world to me. And is a reminder that all bodies are beautiful and that you deserve to treat yourself right. Words can't say how proud I am of this and how much I love this. Now, I could be wrong, but I like to think that Bradley would be into curvy girls. Also, go listen to all the songs! They are amazing!

Summary: You don't think your pretty enough and worthy of having love or being with someone. But Bradley thinks very differently of that.

~

Bradley loves to come to the bar to have a good time with his friends, drink and sing. But his motivation for coming to The Hard Deck changed. He comes every single night, just so he can see you. And if he can't come one night for some reason, he is devastated.

A few months ago, he walked into the bar like a normal weekend evening for him, but instead of Penny giving him his drink, it was you. You recently moved here to California after family matters, to get away. Starting over for yourself. Moving into your tiny apartment and landing a job here at The Hard Deck. Now working every night. You quickly got to know Bradley. Being for the fact you see him just as much as you see Penny. He is definitely a man who leaves an impression and doesn't mind filling the room with his presence. Unlike you who likes to keep hidden behind the bar, keeping to yourself in your own little world. Not making much of any effort to put yourself out there in the open with the extra attention.

And Bradley quickly learned that. He has tried time and time again to try and get you out from behind that bar, but you have turned him down every single time. He sits and watches you stay in the corner. But he notices the small things. Like how when you're working, your hips will sway to certain songs and your head will bob to the beat.

He wants to learn everything about you. To your favorite song to the spots on your body that makes you feel good. Thats why, tonight, he is determined to do just that. Not going to leave this bar until he has the real you having a conversation with him. Even better if you go home with him. But, for now he will more than happy just to have a pure conversation with you. Anything to know more about you.

"Hey." He tries to capture your attention now that the bar is slowing down.

"Yes? Do you need another drink?" You smile warms his soul.

"No, actually. I was hoping I could talk to you." He has a small smile. His hazel eyes fixated on you.

"Okay." Your leery.

"I was thinking, maybe we could go grab some food when you get off. What do you say?"

"I say, you know the answer to this question Bradley." You cross your arms over your chest. Leaning against the bar.

He lets his head fall forward, sighing. Knowing exactly what the answer is, but he doesn't want to hear it. He wants to hear anything but that. The words he gets every single time he tries to get close to you.

"I get off of work to late." And there it is.

"That's not a problem for me."

You sigh. Looking up at the smirking man. Knowing that his stubbornness will not take no for an answer. It's not that you want to say no. God, you want to say yes and spend your nights with him. But you keep pushing him away because you know a man as attractive as he is, could never have interest in a woman with your looks. It just can't be.

You wonder why he does give you so much attention to you. Why he is determined to be close to you at all times. He could go get any woman he wants in the bar. No man that comes in here gives you two looks, but yet he is sitting in a stool watching your every step. Why in the world would he have his eyes on me? It plays around in your head.

"Nice try Roo." You do what you do best. Push him away. Tell him no when you're screaming yes in your mind. When all you want to do is have a nice night with a man you find attractive and enjoy being in his presents. But that fear of yours, that voice inside your head overpowers you. It tells you and reminds you that you will never be good enough, that you're not pretty enough, and that a man like him could never take an interest in you. So, you walk away. Going back to work. Leaving Bradley sitting there in silence. Leaving him with his thoughts.

While you're thinking about why he gives you so much attention, he is thinking about why you give him so little attention. Why say no. Why a beautiful, captivating woman like you shuts yourself off from him and others. He wants to know what you see in yourself. What's going through your mind. What is it that he sees that you don't see? Just as his mind wonders on you, he sees you walk over to the stereo. Turning the volume up. When you return back, you're humming. Your body flowing. The movement of you enchanting him. He listens to the song, hearing Motownphilly by Boys || Men playing.

As he watches you, he has never you seen you so alive. Yes, you hum and move to some songs, but he has never seen a song move you so like this one does. Seeing this, he also sees an opportunity. "I didn't take you to be a Boy's || Men girl."

"Excuse me?"

"The song. You like it?" He raises a brow. Biting at his lip to hide his smile.

"Yeah. It's my favorite song. My Dad use to play it for me growing up." You don't even realize your letting that wall slip. But Bradley watches as it falls.

"You listen to hip hop?"

"Jazz." You correct him.

"Jazzy woman..." He whispers to himself. His plan going perfectly according to plan. "Have you heard Always Be My Baby by Brasstracks?" He continues.

You turn to him. A look of surprise on your expression. "You know Brasstracks?" You say in shock. Thinking you were the only one who listened to them. His smile grows as he nods.

"Wow..." You trail off. "What about Highroad by Sir Woman?" You ask. Bradley slowly becoming head over heels for you as he sees you get so enthusiastic and passionate about something.

"Yeah, I know that one. Musta Been A Ghost by Proxima Parada?" He asks.

"Sober by Earl St. Clair?"

"You Know I'm No Good by Amy Winehouse?"

"Didn't It Rain by Sister Rosetta Tharpe?"

"Oo, Nowhere To Run by Martha Reeves & The Vandellas?"

"It's So Easy by Margo & Mac?" You raise your eyebrows when he takes a long pause.

"Damn. You got me there. I haven't heard that one." He didn't think it was possible, but his smile somehow grew when he heard you laughing. Your head falling back and your smile wide.

This is exactly what he wanted. Learning that you like Jazz and then seeing you laugh at him. And not being able to stop smiling. It's everything he has wished for.

"You should give it a listen." As you smile warmly at him, longingly looking into those dark eyes, you realize he trapped you. That he's the wrecking ball and he just tumbled the wall you built. That he slipped right in and got to you. He paid close attention and found the thing you love and the thing that you could talk about for hours and started slowly pulling back the tape until he had you fully showing the true you. Now you see what he done. Now, you're going to walk away. Scared at the fact that he was able to get to you.

You sigh in defeat. Looking up at the clock realize that it's almost closing time. Not even realizing that Penny called last round. "Would you like to close your tab?" You ask him. He looks at you confused. Looking over at the clock, he realizes he has to get going. "Yeah, that will be fine." You do so. Starting to wipe down the counters but he still sits there.

"So..." He stands from his seat. "I'll meet you outside. We can finish our conversation over some pizza." He smiles at you, and you laugh. Resting your hand on your hip, shaking your head.

"Bradley..." You trail off.

"Yes?" He answers.

"I see what you did there. That was a nice attempt." You scoff. But not at him. More so at yourself.

"How about this..." He walks over to. Leaning against the wood. Getting inches from you. "If you don't enjoy yourself. I'll leave you be. But if you have a good time with me. We do this again next Saturday."

You take a moment to think. Looking away from those burning eyes. You know you will enjoy it. You don't want to admit it, but you loved talking to him. How easy it was. Talking about the things you love. Hell, he made you laugh and smile even.

"You get one chance, Bradley. And that's it." You say firmly, pointing your finger at him. You walk away. Getting your coat. Talking with Penny, her telling you that she's got it, and she can finish closing up. Telling you to go have a good time. So, you get your things. Getting in Bradley's Bronco. Driving you both to the Pizza place down in town that stays open all night for some reason.

Bradley putting on the radio and continuing to ask you about what music you like. How you got into music. What it means to you. Why you like Jazz. Such and such. Asking you anything and everything he can ask. Getting you to talk. As badly as he wants to look at how your face lights up when you speak, he pays attention to the road, and even closer attention to your voice. It smooths him. Relaxes him in a way. Hearing you talk about any and every song you know. From Sighed, Sealed, Delivered, by Stevie Wonder, You Can't Judge A Book By It's Cover by Bo Diddley to Stay Away From Me by Puff Kennedy, All Good by Samm Henshaw, Foreplay by Jalen Santoy and Love + U by Jensen & The Flips. You all but named every song you had on your playlist to him, and he loved hearing about every single one of them.

Next thing you know, you're ordering the pizza and walking back to his Bronco to go back to his place. From talking to the music, it led to telling stories. Mention a song and something crazy that happened when it played. Talking about how different songs remind you of different things. The stories flowing so nicely, your confused when he stops and gets out of the car, walking over to your side to open your door now that you are at his place.

"Okay. Tell me this. Favorite song from a movie?" He looks down at you as you both walk to his door.

"No. I'm not saying it!" You laugh. A specific song coming to your mind.

"Oh, well, you have to tell me now." He laughs with you. The both of you sitting on his couch. You cover your face with your hands. Your knees coming up to your chest. "Don't go getting shy on me now." He coos.

You sigh, "Something That I Want by Grace Potter." You answer.

"The song from Tangled?" He asks and you nod. "Is that your favorite movie?"

"Maybe." You speak. He opens the pizza box. Taking a slice for himself, then another for you. Holding it out in front of you but you put your hand up, shaking your head. "I'm not that hungry." You tell him. Your already out of your comfort zone. You're not about to go and eat in front of him. There is no way it's going to happen.

He frowns. But he doesn't make you eat. He sit's it back in the box. Pushing it so it is facing you in case you change your mind and want it. Comfortable silence falling between the two of you. He eats, leaned against the arm of the couch with his legs spread. You take your shoes off. Leaned against the other arm. Stretching your legs out on the couch. His eyes traveling over your body. At how close you are to him. How badly he wants to touch you. His mind focused on your beauty. The dimples on your cheeks. How your hair barely lays over your shoulders. Your hands interlaced on your lap.

He brings his hand up. Placing it on your ankle, starting to rub small circles. "God, you're gorgeous." He whispers.

"What?" You look up at him. Furrowing your eyebrows. His eyes come to meet yours.

"You're gorgeous." He speaks clearly. You move your head back like to look at him better. The line between your eyebrows growing and your lips parted. You chuckle. "Ha, no. No. Please, don't do that." You shake your head, looking away from him. He squeezes your leg. "Look at me." His eyes are boarded into yours. You squeeze your thighs together. Arousal pooling in-between your legs. He shifts in his seat. Turning his body so that he is facing you. His hand moves from your ankle up to your closed thighs. He leans over you. His face inches away. His lips hovering over yours. The hairs of his mustache tickling the top of your lip. The tension between the two of you heavy. He tries to kiss you, but you move away. Thinking why the hell Bradley Bradshaw finds you attractive.

"Say it." He whispers into your ear. His hand kneading your thigh. Biting your lip, trying to control your breathing. "Say what?" You question. Your voice soft.

"Say, 'I'm beautiful'. I want to hear you say it." He pulls away from your neck to look into your eyes.

"I'm not saying it." You say firmly. Heat creeping up your neck and to your cheeks. You don't think your beautiful. Why should you say it? You gasp in shock when he suddenly pushes your legs open. Pulling you down where you lay against the arm of the couch. Using his legs to keep yours spread wide for himself. Trapping you under him. One of his hands caressing your side and the other by your head, holding himself up.

His lips come to yours. This time, you don't move away. You lean into him. Wrapping your arms around his neck. Lacing your fingers through his soft hair. His hand kneading your breast now, making you moan into his mouth.

"So beautiful." He mumbles. Pulling away from your lips. Kissing along your jawline. Down your neck. "I am not." You stated.

"Oh, really?" He pulls away. "I guess I'll just have to show you then." He kisses right below your ear. Pulling a moan from you. "Show you how beautiful you are. Show you how you need to be touched." He speaks between kisses.

The touch of his lips and the touch of his hands leaves you panting under him. Catching yourself trying to breath normally, your thighs trying to close together but Bradley doesn't allow it. He keeps them open, his bulge rubbing against your core. Driving you crazy, making your head spin like a carousel. It starting to get harder to control your moans.

His lips coming to yours. All tongue and teeth. His hands coming to your legs, wrapping them around his waist. He hosts you up in his arms, standing up. Making you yelp. "Bradley Bradshaw, put me down right now! I'm too heavy!" You slap his chest. His head falling back in laughter.

"Uh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh at you." He can't even get the sentence out without laughing. "Put me down!" You say firmly. Glaring at him.

"Okay. Okay." He mumbles. Putting you down. He doesn't even let you stand there for a whole two seconds before he throws you over his shoulder like a doll.

"Bradley!" You shout at him. He somehow laughs harder. Slapping your ass. He takes you into his bedroom. Stopping at the edge of the bed. He drops you down. Crawling back on top of you. His lips going to yours like a magnet. Not giving you anytime at all to speak. Not giving you time to do anything really. His hands coming up and pulling your jacket off. Throwing it to the side. His hand sliding up your shirt and to your breast. His other hand working at the buttons of your jeans. Not being able to get your clothes off of you fast enough. Your hands moving from his hair down to the hem of his shirt. He holds his arms up, letting you slide his shirt off of him. Your hands immediately going to his chest. Feeling his muscled, smooth skin. How he moves to your touch. If you weren't paying so much attention, you wouldn't have noticed how his breath hitched when you started touching him. How his cock jumped at your touch.

You try to unbutton his pants, but his hands come to yours. Pinning your hands above your head. "Not yet." His breath is heavy. His eyes hungry and you're the meal.

"But what about y-" You try to ask about him. About what he needs, but he cuts you off. "I've waited to long for this moment." He pauses. Jerking your pants down your legs. Throwing them to the floor to be found later. "I'm going to ruin you. Make you mine." He whispers in your ear. Pulling your shirt over your head. You try to cover your body. Try and hide, but Bradley doesn't allow it to happen. He pins your hands down. His eyes slowly ghosting over every inch of your body. Taking his time as he looks at you.

His hand moving and unclasping your bra. Throwing it as far as he can. Groaning at the sight of your bare skin. Finally exposed to him. He has you just how he wants. Naked and under him. Panting and desperate. This is everything he has imagined and more. He takes your breast in his mouth. Sucking, biting and kneading. Devouring you. Ruining you, just like he said he would. And he hasn't even started yet. This is only the beginning. He has already planned the whole night. His thoughts running wild like an animal set free to run in a field.

Even though he loves kissing every inch of your body, his patience can't take it anymore. He has to have more of you. With that, he laces his fingers in your underwear. Pulling them down. Diving into your core without hesitation. His tongue lapping circles around your clit. Pulling a moan from deep inside you. Your back arching off of the bed. Your hands gripping the sheets. Closing your thighs around his head. His hand coming to your thighs. Holding your legs open to give him room to move freely. He teases your entrance with his middle finger. Slowly pushing his finger in. Curling his finger at that spot inside of you that makes you weak. He adds another finger.

When your moans became louder. When you clenched your walls around his fingers, Bradley swore he entered heaven. He paid very close attention to your body. How his name continuously falls from your lips. How you pull his hair, how you try to grind your hips against his face. When he sucks your clit harshly, it makes your legs jerk and shake. Your mouth falling open, and your eyes shut. You look down to see Bradley's eyes already on you. The sight of him between your legs, looking at you like you're the most angelic thing he has ever seen, it sends shivers down your body. It sends you over the edge. Overwhelms you. That feeling in your stomach getting stronger, consuming you. Making you scream.

Bradley knows you are close. He knows you are about to come undone. You're the present and he is pulling at the strings, slowly opening you up. "Come for me." He groans against your core. The vibration of his words against you, the tone in his voice was enough to send you over the edge. That feeling getting so tight in your stomach until it is set free and your climax crashes over you. Bradley, helping you come down from your high. He stays still between your legs until he hears your breathing starting to slow down.

He pulls away. Licking his lips. Taking his fingers into his mouth. Sucking the cum off. Looking into your eyes as he does so. Looking over his face, at his red swollen lips and you're cum covering his chin and his mustache.

His lips come to yours. Kissing you as he pulls his pants down. Taking his cock in his hand. Pumping it. Precum leaking from it. He takes you in his arms. Walking around the bed, not breaking the kiss. He sits down. Placing you on his lap. You grind against his cock. His hips jolting up against you. His head falling back. Swears falling from his mouth. "Such a good girl." He mumbles against your skin. He holds the back of your neck. Pulling you to his lips. You attempt to lift your hips up so that your weight isn't on him, but he pushes you back down. Making you sit against him. "Bradley..." You say between kisses. He hums against your lips.

"I'm too heavy." You whisper. Looking down, avoiding his eyes. Trying to hide behind your hands.

"Hey..." He holds your chin. Tilting your head up. Making you look into his eyes. "You are not heavy. I don't want to hear that shit. Now... be a good girl and ride my cock." Your breath hitches at his words. Your walls clenching around nothing.

You nod. Lifting your hips. He lines his cock up with your entrance. Pushing the tip in. His hands holding your hips. "That's it. Just like that. Good girl. Take your time." He speaks between groans. Watching you as you slowly lower yourself down on his cock until he is bottomed out in you. You lift back up, then back down. Circling your hips. Starting to get into a rhythm. Riding his cock. Clenching your walls around him when the head of his cock hits that spot inside of you. Your action making Bradley grip your skin. His hand on your hip guiding you. His other hand moving to your hair. Pulling at it.

Kissing you. The kiss messy, wet and hot. His mouth moving down your neck. Biting your shoulder. Moaning out his name. Clenching around him. Beginning to move faster. All of it starting to become too much for Bradley. Your body pressed to his. Your breast bouncing in his face. Tight around his cock. Hearing his name being moaned. He does everything he can to try and make this last. To not immediately cum. Holding it back, trying to control himself. But your no better than him. That knot in your stomach coming back in a heartbeat. That heat growing back. The head of his cock hitting that spot repeatedly. Making your mind become cloudily. Your legs weak to the point they start shaking.

Your close. And you know he is too. His cock twitching in you. His groans becoming louder. His kisses becoming sloppy. You're both a mess. A mess over each other. He thrust his hips up. Meeting your movement. Starting to slam his cock into you. Pushing deeper inside of you. Filthy words coming from his mouth. His hands all over you. Moving from your thighs to your hips, your sides, your breast, your hair. Touching every part of your body he can get to. His hand going to your cunt. Pressing his finger to your clit. Rubbing harsh circles. Watching your head fall back.

"That's it. Uh, fuck. Come. Come all over my cock." He grunts. His hips getting sloppy. Knowing he won't be able to hold it together for much longer.

You do just as he says. Milking his cock. Your climax sending him into his. "Good girl. That's it. Uh, good girl." He fills you up with his cum. Shooting his seed deep in you. Starting to slow down, riding you both off of your high. Staying just like you are. You rest your forehead against his. His arms wrapping around your body. Holding you impossibly closer. You know as he holds you, that he is right. That he is right in every way. He has ruined you. You are his. And most of all, you did have a good time tonight. And you know you want to do this again. You see now that Bradley has opened up your eyes.

He moves his head away. Kissing you. He pulls out. Watching his come start to drip out of you. He looks up at you. Seeing your eyes already on him. Your lips starting to curl into a smile.

"What are you thinking about?" He tucks your hair behind your ear. Holding the side of your face.

"Just thinking about next Saturday. Same time? When I get off?" His smile grows.

"Yes ma'am." Bradley couldn't be happier than he is right now with you.

"Good. Cause I have plans for us."

"Is that so?" He tilts his head. His words teasing.

"Oh, yeah." You didn't think it was possible, but your smile somehow managed to grow.

Bradley grinned up at you. Holding you to him, he flips you on your back. Tenderly kissing your lips.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw fic #rooster smut #rooster top gun #rooster x reader #rooster imagine #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun smut #top gun imagine #top gun one shot #miles teller #dagger squad #top gun fandom

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

I absolutely love your Taiju hearcanons-- may I ask for some relationship headcanons with him?? Some with a chubby reader as well??

Ok I ended up just doing some general relationship hc's then adding some chubby reader specific ones at the end!

Pays for everthing for you, he refuses to let you spend a penny.

Get's a bit unsure when you give you gifts, he has a habit of under reacting or shrugging them off even though they actually mean a lot to him. Takes him a while to show how happy they make him.

Tells Koko and Inui to keep an eye on you for your own protection 

In the good timeline he desperately wants you to get along well with his siblings, arranges a whole dinner where the three of you can meet.

Takes you on a lot of aquarium dates

If the two of you go to a fancy restaurant together, he normally jokes that his place is better (you cant help but agree)

Is constantly giving you his jacket, he wants you to stay warm and likes how you look in it.

Pats your head a lot, likes ruffling your hair

He was actually pretty hesitant about kissing and physical forms of affection at first. But as the relationship develops he doesn't hesitate at all and will happily kiss you whenever he feels like it (koko and inui have complained before)

One time he accidentally let slip a comment about how "Mitsuya will have to make your wedding dress". He said this long before he proposed.

Takes up a lot of the bed when he sleeps and has a habit of pulling you towards him. (If you try to wake him up in the morning, you will just be dragged back into bed)

He finds himself thinking about you a lot during the day, his mind will just drift to you while he's working. 

Likes when you need him to do things

He's also always amused by the size difference between the two of you, specially with how he towers over you. 

Chubby reader

He's very big on body worship, kisses every part of you telling you how beautiful all of you is.

Glares at anyone and will hit them if they ever dare to make any mean comments towards his girl.

Is extremely touchy and cuddly with you in private, especially if you're feeling down.

Sometimes he doesn't understand why you're feeling down because he thinks you're perfect.

He's pretty observant though so he can tell when you are feeling not great, he compliments you more then usual when he notices you feeling like that. 

He still loves picking you up and giving you his jacket, thinks it looks amazing on you.

#tokyo revengers #tokrev #tokyo rev #taiju shiba #shiba taiju #tokyo revengers spoilers

[wittlesissyb4by]

"Up! Come on. Quit your pouting. Let's go."

"Do we have poopies? No? No poopies? Good..."

"Now you know why I have to do this, don't you?

You have been far too fussy today. You refuse to take your bottle, you keep trying to use your big boi voice, and I caught you walking around earlier!

Do we need to get you bigger diapers so that you're unable to do anything but waddle? A spreader bar? Some spiked booties? Mommy doesn't want to have to do any of that, but she'll have to if you keep trying to act like you're not a wittle baybee.

Now I don't want to have to spank you either, but I have to teach you a lesson. You need to learn to be better behaved. Until then, I'm gonna have to blister your little bottom. Are you ready?

*smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack*smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack*smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack*smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack*smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack

*smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack*smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack *smack*smack *smack *smack *smack *smack

"Umm...what's that I feel against my thighs? Is somewon getting hard? D'awww!! Are you enjoying yourself wittle baybee?? Is this everything you asked for? Am I doing a good job?

Good. But we'll see if you still think so by the end of this weekend. I have lots of things planned for you!

But first...we have to make the wittle baybee cwy!!"

Source for this amazing set is of course the GOAT, Pampered Penny.