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#ok but imagine them in full costume

sehnsuchts-trunken · 8 months

Text

Rooster At 5, Bradley At Night

Bradley Bradshaw x Penny’s niece!reader 10k words (.....yes. 10k. i know)

summary: You've been hooking up with Bradley for three weeks now. You're also hooking up with him tonight.

a/n: this is pure smut. honestly pure smut. 18+ i will now list all the things that you have to look out for. first and foremost i have NEVER written smut before dont kill me pls im trying my best. ok so

name kink, rank kink, choking, unprotected sex (dont be like them, just know theyve had the conversation nothing bad will happen), oral sex!fem receiving, dom bradley, some "good girl" because i am a sucker for that, in general a lot of talking because bradley is A TALKER!!!!!!, a little strength kink? is that a thing? and a shit ton of begging

this can be read as a stand-alone most definitely, but is set in the same universe as "Tuesday Night" and “Not A Coincidence” and "Take Me On A Joyride" so maybe give those a read too?

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You were behind the bar this evening, a rag in your hands as you wiped down the sticky wooden top for the bazillionth time and hummed along to the music coming from the jukebox. You were behind the bar most evenings, pouring beer and rum and whiskey and mixing cocktails (occasionally taking some sips of your own), smiling and laughing and flirting with customers left and right.

For the past few months now, the most regular of those costumers had been the Dagger squad.

They'd shown up here one random evening and hadn't left since. And it didn't seem like any of them would any time soon.

Not that you wanted them to, oh no. You had grown so close in so little time that it was scary at this point.

"Settle a bet for us, Junior."

Jake slid up to the bar as if it was second nature, putting an empty bottle of beer in front of him and resting one elbow next to it. You looked up at him and smiled, threw your rag over your shoulder and grabbed the bottle, condensation dripping down onto your fingertips. Rooster came up right behind him and your smile deepened even further.

"Hit me, Bagman", you challenged, set two full bottles on the bar top and then rested your forearms against the edge.

Jake grinned at you as he raised his beer in a toast.

"If you had to get with one of us tonight, who'd you get with?"

You didn't even flinch.

"Bradshaw", you said, quick like a shot, and watched Jake's face fall like he'd expected a different answer with just a tiny bit of amusement. You glanced at Rooster, who had already been looking at you, and whose only reaction to the fact that you were literally talking about sleeping with him was a small quirk of his lips.

"Bradshaw? Are you kidding? You- I'll give you a second to think about it, Junior. Don't you wanna think about it for a second?", Jake asked, regaining his facade, letting a tinge of his accent slip as he leaned in and winked at you. "You know, actually think about it. Imagine it. Picture it. Visualise it."

You decided to give him the satisfaction. So you pushed back from the bar top, crossed your arms, raised your eyebrows and eyed the two of them up and down - just because you could, just for the fun of it. Jake was in his usual jeans and shirt, leaning in with a self-assured grin and his hand wrapped around his beer bottle. Bradley was wearing one of those Hawaiian shirts that fit snugly on his bicep, his sunglasses tucked into the collar of the white top underneath, hair on the practically perfect side of unruly and his eyes fixed on yours so intensely that you had to bite down on your tongue for a moment there.

You counted to five.

"Bradshaw", you said again, dropped your arms and grabbed the rag from your shoulder. Jake's lips parted and a betrayed sort of gasp left his mouth before he started complaining - you shook your head and stepped over to the next customer and only allowed yourself to grin when you'd turned away, out of his sight.

You wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

You still didn't know whether to be surprised at this "bet" the both of them had made. You were pretty sure anyway that Jake had been the driving force in that. You knew the two of them well enough by now to not only be aware of their.... you could only call it a rivalry, really, but also of Jake's weird, warped sense of mischief. Maybe he had some narcissism problem or maybe some old trauma response. Who cared? Not you. It made for entertainment every night you were behind the bar. And also every night you were in front of the bar, drinking and dancing with the squad. You loved him, you really did. But definitely not enough to not put a stop to his ego whenever you could.

And if that way was by flaunting how very platonically you felt about him (because he was a self-named womanizer and couldn't understand how anyone could possibly not be attracted to him), you would.

...

It was 2am when Penny told you to pack your things and go. Most of the bar was empty already, except for three or four small groups of people, but those she could manage alone. Usually, maybe, you'd have declined, but tonight....

Well.

Jake had found someone to hook up with after his earlier disappointment and the rest of the squad had left at some point during the last hour too - the rest of the squad except for a particular pornstache guy.

Rooster had said goodbye to Fanboy and Payback ten minutes ago, had assured them he didn't need a ride home, he'd order another drink and then take an uber, had sat down on a bar stool, nursed his beer and watched you clean up and then pack your things. You'd sneaked glances at him now and then, so you knew that he'd watched you.

When you stepped out from behind the bar, he sat up and followed you out of the Hard Deck wordlessly. Armed with a purse, fumbling for your car keys, fighting down the smile on your lips and the bubbling anticipation in your stomach, you took a second outside to close your eyes and breathe in the mild evening air.

Then two arms sneaked around your waist. You let out a sigh as warm breath hit your neck.

"So you'd rather get with me than Bagman, hm, Junior?"

You chuckled, pushing back a little, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to relax for the first time tonight.

"I think you know very well that I'd rather get with you than Bagman, Rooster", you muttered, running your hands up his, up his arms, up naked skin until you could slide your fingertips underneath his shirt, up his shoulders... "I'd rather get with you than anyone."

He pressed a kiss right below your earlobe, bit down softly on the same patch of skin, soothed it again with a kiss.

"Oh, I know", he laughed quietly into your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. You settled even further into his arms. "I'd rather get with you than Bagman, too."

You had to laugh as well - the image of Hangman and Rooster was truly funny. But it was difficult to keep laughing when Bradley pressed more and more kisses to your neck, trailing a line of them down to the hemline of your shirt, nuzzling his nose in there when he couldn't go further. You tilted your head back a little to rest it against his shoulder, a pleasant flush rising up within - a comfortable warmth, the knowledge that you were safe, secure, protected. The way he always made you feel.

"Just to be clear - I do get to get with you tonight, right?", you asked, a grin on your lips because you knew the answer very, very well. Rooster chuckled into your ear and let out a hum.

"What do you think?", he muttered, one last, open-mouthed kiss pressed against your skin before he pulled away, pulled at your hand to twirl you around, pulled a squeal from your lips, one that conjured a smile on his face every time. "Take me home?"

...

The ride home was silent except for the radio in the background, but you were pretty much tuning that out. The steering wheel was sturdy in your hands, the night lights bright and blinding and your concentration on the streets and the car was waning ever so slowly, ever so steadily because Rooster's hand was slowly, steadily inching up your thigh. He'd put it innocently just above your knee when you'd strapped yourself in, his thumb sweeping in circles over the fabric of your jeans, but by now he'd brushed so far up that you were finding it hard to direct your thoughts back to driving.

Luckily, the drive back home only took ten minutes.

You weren't sure you'd have survived even a second more. He squeezed your thigh one last time as you turned the ignition off, then unbuckled his seat belt, opened his door and got out and you were left alone in pure silence for exactly two seconds. You took a deep breath in and out. One day, and you knew that, Bradley would be the death of you. He could get you all riled up with so very little that you felt like you were going mad sometimes. In a very good way, of course.

And just as you were lamenting on the bubbling anticipation in your stomach, on the images your brain conjured whenever you were close to him, whenever you were touching him, whenever-

"Madam", Rooster smiled, leaning one arm on the opened car door and reaching the other hand out for you to take. "Would you do me the honours?"

You could only shake your head and grin at him, giddiness making you squirm in your seat as you pulled your hands away from the steering wheel and put one of them in his.

"I could never deny you any of your wishes, kind sir", you said, allowing him to pull you out of the car and into his arms instead. He hugged you close, tilted his head down to nuzzle your nose with his - you had to put your head back to be able to look into his eyes when you stood this close in front of him, nevermind kissing him.

"Really?", he smiled, his fingertips dancing along your side, hooking into your belt loops, pulling your hips flush to his. You grabbed at his biceps to steady yourself. Or maybe just because you could. "Any of my wishes?"

You let out a sort of agreeable hum and grinned up at him.

"Whatever you want", you nodded.

It was the truth, simple and just. You'd do anything. You'd let him do anything. You trusted him like you'd never trusted anyone before and up until now, you'd only ever been rewarded for putting that kind of trust in him. Something about this felt right. Something about him felt right.

"What if I wanted to spend the rest of the night between your legs?", he muttered, eyes flicking down to your lips as your breath hitched.

"Well", you whispered, because whispering was the only thing you still knew how to do. "As I said, I won't deny you anything."

His eyes met yours and his lip quirked up and then, before you could do anything more, he'd dropped down, wrapped an arm around your legs and hauled you up. You let out a gasp and crossed your arms behind his neck in reflex, a soft, shocked "Rooster!" falling from your lips. Bradley only chuckled, closed the car door with his hip and started carrying you to your front door with seemingly no problem whatsoever.

Gods. Sometimes you forgot just how strong he really was.

But then, in moments like these, he picked you up and threw you onto your bed or pushed you up against a wall and you remembered. And you felt that sting in your stomach that had you press your legs together every time.

Now you didn't even have to remember. Now you were dangling safely from his arms, your hands linked behind his neck, your fingertips buried in his hair, your eyes wide as you watched him, as you tried to steady your irregular breathing because shit, this was happening. This was happening like it had been happening for over three weeks now.

He sat you down carefully in front of the door, but you were in such a trance that you needed to take a moment (or two or three) to stare at him, at this man, this fairytale prince, this god. Your man, your fairytale prince, your god.

"You need to unlock the door, honey", he chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist and turning you so you were facing the door, his chest pressed to your back, his breath fanning the exposed skin of your neck and right, right, right, the door! The door. The lock. The key. The key in your purse! That key. The key for your door. Right. Key, key, key.... Where the hell was that goddamn key? You were sure it was somewhere there in your purse. You'd put it in there like you always put it in there. Key, Key, Rooster, Rooster's arms around you, Rooster's hands brushing over your skin, Rooster's breath on your ear, Rooster between your legs, Rooster- Key! Key, key, key---

There.

At the very bottom of your purse, finally! There it was. You pulled it out with an almost triumphant sound, unlocked your door to Rooster's soft laughter behind you and stumbled into the dark hallway in a half-intoxicated way that shouldn't have been possible because you hadn't drunk anything tonight.

You threw your purse to the side and switched on the light and turned to Rooster just in time for him to have closed the door behind him and reached for you, his hands on your hips - so big, splayed so wide, his fingers so long - crowding you against the wall, his breath fanning over your mouth and then, finally, his lips on yours.

For the first time today, you were kissing him. He was so wide, so tall, so huge, everywhere all around you, his arms, his hands, his chest, his shoulders, his neck, his chin and his cheeks and his lips and his hair. Your hands sunk into that hair, tugging at the roots and grabbing his head as though your life depended on it, depended on keeping him safely, steadily right on front of you, right here, pushing you against the wall and leaving you practically no room to breathe, to touch, to feel anything other than him.

You wanted him.

With every fibre of your body, your soul, every particle, every cell, you wanted him. You wanted him everywhere all at once and you wanted him now.

So you bit down on his lip and allowed his tongue in and brushed your hands down his shoulders, down his chest to pull off that god-awful Hawaiian shirt that you admittedly found very attractive, but that was so incredibly, annoyingly in the way right now. You tugged it off his chest and down his arms and didn't care when it fell to the floor - that was where it should be, that was where it belonged.

You reached for the top then, for his waist to brush your fingertips below its hem, pushed it up, up, up until you could feel bare skin, washboard abs against your palms. That satisfied you for a moment - for a moment of running your fingers along the sharp edges of his stomach, for a moment of feeling his body heat, for a moment of being closer.

Luckily, Rooster had always been quite in-tune with you. He noticed the very second that your satisfaction turned to impatience, that your roaming, wandering hands weren't exploring, weren't enjoying anymore but were searching, longing for more - for more skin to touch, more, more, more.

He pulled away from your lips to get rid of his top, leaving you a panting, wide-eyed mess and by god, he'd only just gotten started. He hadn't even touched you. How were you already so wound up?

You blamed the fact that you'd had to stare at him from a distance for the past five days (you'd had late night shifts, he'd had early training days) and decided not to think about it further.

Especially not as his top joined his shirt on the floor, as he looked up at you with red smudged on his chin, kiss-swollen lips and unruly hair. His chest was heaving, his breath coming shorter than usual and his pupils had grown so dark you had to swallow hard.

Without thinking, you reached out and tried to wipe your lipstick off his skin.

That made him grin a little.

"Rooster?", you muttered, looking him right in the eyes. He let out a hum as he stared, a bit lost in thought it seemed and still quite shamelessly, only further at your lips. "Either take me to the bedroom or take a step back so I can get on my knees."

He let out a chuckle then and met your eyes, digging his fingers through your belt loops and pulling you a few inches away from the wall.

"I think you may have forgot something, honey", he said. "What about that wish I made?"

You let out a shuddering breath as you tried not to let your imagination run wild.

Rooster only grinned, and it seemed that your expression showed him just how much you didn't mind his wish at all, because he reached around you, grabbed the backs of your thighs and lifted you up, so effortlessly that it made you blush a little. You didn't even have to hold onto him, only had to wrap your legs loosely around his hips as he carried you through the hallway and into the bedroom.

That allowed you to focus all of your attention on pressing your lips to his skin.

He was warm. So warm. You trailed your lips all over his jaw, his throat, his shoulders, his bicep, and then, when you couldn't go any further down, Rooster had already found the light switch in your room and was dropping you onto your bed, pulling a surprised gasp from you.

The mattress was soft and bouncy as you landed on it, heat in your cheeks and your throat tightening at the sight in front of you - Bradley Rooster Bradshaw standing at the foot of of your bed, half-naked, sweaty, breathing heavy and looking down at you like he was a predator and you were his prey, like he wanted to devour you whole.

Which he did.

You raised yourself up onto your elbows at the same time that he advanced - pounding on you, almost, with a grin on his lips that set ablaze the slumbering flame in your abdomen. You didn't know which one of you got rid of your shirt, only that a few seconds later his lips were on yours, his hands reaching for your bra clasp and your shirt discarded somewhere on your floor.

You breathed hard against his mouth as his fingertips brushed along your back, along your bra, then slowly slid it off your shoulders, down your arms...

Cold air hit your breasts just as Rooster pulled away from you to fling your bra away to join your shirt on the floor, leaving you cold and panting, your eyes closing and opening again and staring at him as he stared at you, as he admired you, all bare, soft skin right there, right in front of him, just for him and nobody else.

You felt his palms against your ribcage then, pushing you down onto your back, onto the mattress, your breath hitching and your eyes closing in anticipation. He dropped a kiss onto your collarbone. Another just above your cleavage. Another onto the top of your breasts. His thumbs brushed right below them.

You wanted more. You always wanted more. You needed more.

But he was just trailing kisses along your breasts, never lingering for long enough, never biting or sucking or licking and as much as you were enjoying this... You needed more.

"Rooster", you sighed, dragging your hands through his hair because you needed more. He hummed against your skin. You could feel the vibration all over. "Roos, please."

He grinned - against your skin at first, before he looked up and right at you. "What was that?"

You bit down on your lip. God damn him. He always did this. Every single time, he did this. And the worst part was: You didn't even mind. You didn't mind begging, you didn't mind pleading, you didn't mind doing so much of it that you couldn't do, couldn't say anything else anymore. So you did just that.

"Please", you repeated, a little breathlessly. Rooster's grin widened.

And then he pulled away completely.

You could have screamed. You honestly thought, just for a second, that he would leave you lying there - panting and begging for him, with a bare chest and arousal heating up every part of you. But of course not. Of course not. This was Bradley fucking Bradshaw. He didn't leave you unsatisfied.

No.

Rooster got up from the bed only to grab you by the waist, to pull you down to the edge and kneel down on the floor. You swallowed hard. He fiddled with your shoes first, loosening the laces and taking them off, tugging down your socks and your pants and oh dear lord, you couldn't concentrate on anything he was doing.

He was kneeling in front of your bed. You bit back a moan from that alone.

Any and all forms of Bradley Bradshaw were jaw-droppingly gorgeous, but to you, nothing would ever top the sight of him on his knees for you.

You tuned back in when your jeans thumped to the floor, when his fingertips danced softly, teasingly up your calves, up your knees, up your thighs. You clenched your jaw when he reached your underwear, when his eyes met yours again in one final reassurance that this was what the both of you wanted, and then he pulled it down your legs too and hooked his hands behind your thighs.

Your eyes fluttered shut. You took a deep breath - one, two, one, two.

One, two.

You frowned and blinked open your eyes again.

Rooster was staring at you, blatantly staring at you with a knowing smirk plastered on his lips and his fingers digging into your hips, sure to hold you in place, not allowing you to push even an inch closer to him.

"Roos", you whined, for what already felt like the dozenth time tonight, your hand sinking into his hair, splaying out, tugging at the strands, trying your hardest to pull him in. He didn't move.

"Yes?", he asked, with that grin just deepening, telling you he knew exactly what he was doing.

Of course he did. Of course he'd make you- God, of course, of course, of course! It had been his idea. It had been his plan, his wish, his goddamn idea and now he was making you-

"Fuck", you grumbled, teeth digging into your bottom lip. You didn't want to do this. You didn't want to do this because he hadn't even had you lying here for five minutes and he already wanted you to do this. "Roos, just-"

He bit down softly on the skin of your thigh then, pulling a surprised gasp from you, leaving your sentence hanging half-finished in mid air. You had to tilt your head back, had to throw a hand over your face because gods, you couldn't look at him now! Not with his breath meeting your thigh, with the feeling of his moustache against your skin, not with that grin on his lips. If you did, you'd melt in less than a heartbeat. You weren't about to give in that easily.

At least that was what you told yourself. You repeated it in your head like a mantra - he had barely touched you, he was the one who'd wished for this, you wouldn't... you weren't... you hadn't...

Fuck!

"C'mon honey", he encouraged, pressing a kiss high up on your thigh. You let out a shaky breath. He was close, so close now and he had you wound so tightly, so incredibly tightly that you felt like you were burning up from inside and-

"Bradley", you gave in, the word falling, tumbling from your lips in almost a moan. "Please, Bradley, please."

He was on you in a heartbeat. Licking a stripe up your slit, tongue flattened and you cried out, digging your fingers deeper into his hair, pulling, pushing, back arching off the bed as he finally, finally gave you what you wanted, what you needed. He dove in like a starved man, licking, pushing, tasting you, devoured and ravaged you, took everything and gave everything at the same time.

Bradley was a god. You'd never had a man eat you out like this until you met him.

His hands pressing against your hips to hold you down, to keep you right there for him, not letting you move an inch from him, only letting you push impossibly closer, your mind, your body screaming more. More, more, more. More of him. More from him. More him.

His tongue found your clit. You cried his name into the vast nothingness of your bedroom, eyes squeezing close and hand cramping into the sheets next to your head, thighs clamping around his head, caging him in, his palms forcing your back still on the mattress.

You could faintly make out your own moans, your own voice as his tongue circled, traced and dipped -

More.

He drew your clit into his mouth. You felt the coil in your stomach tighten, send a shiver through your body, make your legs twitch.

Please.

He sunk his tongue into you, brushed your clit, up and down and everywhere.

Bradley.

You were coming close. Close, so close. Every inch of your skin was tensing in anticipation, clenching, clutching. You babbled something of the sort, not listening to yourself, not able to, not starting or stopping, controlling none of your words, none of the sounds falling from your lips. Bradley loosened one of his palms from your hips and immediately you were pushing, arching up, held down a heartbeat later as he pinned his arm down again, his tongue working you, not faltering once and-

pressure.

His thumb on your clit.

You screamed out his name.

Your nails dug into his scalp. Your heels clasped around his back. Every single nerve in your body was on fire. And Bradley didn't stop.

He worked you right through your high, circling his thumb on your clit and sinking his tongue into you, holding you down, holding you close until you were panting, gasping, your legs unclasping from his head, your fingers loosening in his hair, loosening from the bedsheets, your eyes fluttering open, meeting his and only then did he relent. He pulled back softly, stilling his thumb and pressing a kiss to your thigh, watching you as you slowly came back to reality, back to him.

You blinked once. Twice.

He pulled his thumb from you as he rose up from the floor, running his hands along your sides instead, along your ribs, your breasts, your throat, studying the irregular rise and fall of your chest, mapping out your body beneath his. You watched with parted lips as he brought both his hands steadily down next to your head, as he leaned down to meet you in a kiss - heavy and heady and intense and full of all the right emotions. You could taste yourself on his tongue.

But before you could do any more, press yourself up or pull him down, he was gone again, hot breath meeting your lips and that familiar smile crawling back up onto his face.

"Enjoying yourself?", he asked, tilting his head to the side a little, catching the light of the overhead lamp. Wetness glistened on his moustache. You bit down on your bottom lip, doing your hardest to conceal the smile that was fighting to get to the surface.

Instead, you let out an agreeable hum and brought your hand up to his stache to wipe at it, to wipe some of you off him and admittedly, you already knew that wouldn't do much - but the simple act of innocently cleaning him off like that, fingers brushing above his mouth, just caressing his skin, it made something in your stomach churn.

"How about you? Now that we've checked one wish off your list... Any more?", you muttered, trailing your fingers along his cheek, down his scars, following those lines of skin you knew so well, burning them into your mind, burning him into your mind. You'd never seen anyone as beautiful. You didn't think there was anyone as beautiful out there. Your breath hitched, fingertips catching on a birthmark, before you snapped your eyes back up to his. "Any more wishes at all, Bradley?"

A sort of grunt left him as you did your best not to grin - you knew just what buttons to push, didn't you?

"You know", he muttered, dropping his head, brushing his nose down the sensitive skin of your throat. "I could think of a few more things."

"Yeah?", you asked, just on the right side of breathless again, skin tingling wherever he decided to place a few deliberate, almost chaste kisses. "Like what?"

He'd worked his way down to your breasts again, still holding himself up with both his hands.

"I could fuck you nice and slow, just like you deserve it", he said softly, the words flowing from him as easily as if he were talking about breakfast the next day. Rational, sober, collected. You, on the other hand, could feel the wetness pooling in between your legs again. You couldn't believe how reasonable, how practical, how composed he could stay while he said things like that - how he'd fuck you, how he'd eat you out, how he'd pull every single thought from your mind with his fingers and his mouth and his cock.

"Or", he went on, completely unbothered still, stopping in between words to drop kisses onto your breasts. "I could fuck you hard and fast, because that's what you want, right?"

A moan tumbled from your lips all of its own accord, your eyes fluttering shut again. He was conjuring visuals in your mind that had you clenching your legs together, hands clawing their way back up into his hair - you needed something to keep you here and now, to keep you grounded.

"I'm right, honey, aren't I?", he muttered, obviously satisfied with himself. "You want me to fuck you rough, don't you?"

You were sure you'd crossed some border into heaven and just hadn't realised it. This man would truly be the death of you one day.

"Yes", you breathed, scratching at his scalp, tugging at the roots of his hair. "Yes, please, Bradley."

You could feel his grin against your bare skin.

"You look so pretty begging for me, honey", he smiled, raising himself up and before you could complain much about it, before you could as much as open your eyes again, he was dropping a kiss to your lips, long and longing, parted lips pressed against each other, breathing each other in.

Then he pulled away from you completely and you did let a whine fall from your lips after all, raising yourself up onto your elbows to blindly follow after him as he straightened up and then bent down to pull off his shoes, his socks, to fumble with his belt - all in fucking slow motion apparently, that's how long it took, two hours just to take off his goddamn socks and you were just sitting there, staring, blinking, hazy mind clearing up the way it always had to after you'd been so close to him, watching, staring, watching, staring...

An eternity, it seemed, until you grew too impatient and decided to take matters into your own hands. Quite literally.

You pushed yourself up, reached for his belt yourself, pulled it from its buckle, unhooked it, opened it finally, finally, finally! and blinked up at him again, all wide eyes and smudged lipstick and swollen lips and Bradley felt pretty sure he died a little just then - this had to be heaven, you had to be heaven. You brushed a strand of hair behind your ear and your tongue ran along your lips and he had to swallow hard.

His jeans fell to the floor, chased quickly by his boxer briefs and you took a deep breath as you looked at him, leaning forward, leaning in to reach for him-

He took both your hands in his and pushed you down on the mattress again, another of those pathetic whines dropping from your lips at being denied the feeling of him.

"Fuck, Roos, please", you begged, sounding pitiful to your own ears by now, pleading for something you knew he'd give to you anyway, just so goddamn impatient that you couldn't even help the words rolling off your tongue.

He let go of your hands, reached for your waist instead to pull you up, to tug you firmly farther up the mattress until he could follow after safely, until he could nudge your knees apart and trail a line of kisses up your shoulder, his hands finding their usual spot next to your head.

"What was that, honey?", he grinned against your skin, holding himself up above you to look you right in the eyes.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulled a moan from yourself and a similar groan from him, squeezed your eyes shut and had immediately forgotten what it'd been you'd said before. What it'd been he was asking about.

He brought one hand down to your thigh, squeezing tight, holding you even tighter to him, and pressed his hips down into the mattress, pulling another moan from you and, again, a similar groan from himself, making sure that you couldn't move against him on your own, that you were completely at his mercy.

As always.

"Please", you whined, desperate now, trying to rock your hips against his and not succeeding, not succeeding because he was holding you still, holding you down, holding you helpless and defenseless, withholding the one goddamn thing you wanted from him right now. And after all that talk too! "Roos, please, Bradley, do something."

You were far from whining now, breathless and moaning and sobbing basically, hands clawing at his shoulders and nails digging into his skin, begging and pleading and he was just holding still, doing nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing and you wanted more, you wanted something, anything.

"Look at me", he panted then - the only sign at all that he was somehow affected by this as well. "Look at me, honey, open your eyes."

And what else were you supposed to do but follow that command, grant him that wish?

So you forced your eyes open, forced yourself to look at him.

A thin layer of sweat gleaned on his skin. His stare was fixed on you and you alone. And his pupils had dilated so far that his usually hazel eyes were practically black now. You sucked in an unsteady breath.

"Good girl", he praised and you were done for.

You could have come from that alone.

Those two words, breathed into the nothingness of the room, onto your lips, onto your naked skin, sent a shiver down your spine, down your back and your hips and your legs, a shiver so violent that it pulled a moan right with it, a string of them. You barely heard Bradley's groan above you before he pulled away just the slightest bit, pulled away to brush his hand down your side, down your chest, down your hips, between your bodies, to reach for himself and stroke his tip through the wetness between your legs, your back arching off the mattress, into him, into more of him and-

"Wait", you panted.

Bradley froze immediately. His expression shifted to worry in the span of half a second, furrowing his brows and pulling away from you.

"What's wrong?", he asked, still breathless. You closed your eyes and took a breath, tensing, forcing yourself to keep down on the mattress, even as cold settled on your skin now that he wasn't warming you up anymore - inches away from you again. Considerate idiot.

"Just-", you stopped, opened your eyes, looked right at him. "Do you think Jake suspects anything?"

Bradley kept still for a few seconds. A shallow breath and another, your chest rising and falling and you had a hard time thinking, even now that he was barely touching you anymore. You were wound tightly, and you'd been so close, and now...

"You're not seriously thinking about Jake right now", Bradley said, almost accusingly.

You had to admit, it was a bit strange - you were naked, panting, your legs wrapped around his hips, and still you were thinking about Jake, about the bet, about what you'd said hours ago at the bar. You hadn't even been thinking about it, really. It had just come to you, overwhelming you, and you... you had needed to get it out. Still, you did have to admit, it was absurd.

So you bit down on your lip to conceal a smile, a grin, trailed your hands to his hair to brush it behind his ears, almost innocently (but just almost).

"I'm sorry, I just...", you whispered, stroking your hands down his scalp. "We've kept this between us for three weeks now. I don't want to have ruined that."

Bradley shook his head at you, dropped it to his chin, his curls brushing your nose, your cheeks, and sighed onto the skin of your throat.

"You're unbelievable", he muttered, dropping a kiss between your breasts now that he knew you weren't uncomfortable or afraid or anything of the sort in the slightest. Your breath hitched again. You didn't want to talk about this. You wanted him inside you, wanted him to make good on his promise from before. But you knew you had to, because otherwise the thought wouldn't leave you alone, even though the coil in your stomach, the heat in your body screamed bloody murder at you for it.

He looked back up, raised his chin again to meet your eyes.

"Don't worry about Jake", he reassured, one hand starting to softly, just so very softly, brush up and down your side. You had to swallow. "He won't even remember tomorrow."

He dropped another kiss onto your skin, a little further down, that grin, that moustache against your ribs.

"And I'll make sure you won't remember either, pretty girl. Alright?"

You nodded so quickly you almost got a head rush, eyes fluttering shut in anticipation, head tilting back just the slightest, your fingers digging into his hair as his lips trailed down your skin, the covers rustling as he settled further back, as his breath ghosted over your center again.

"Need to hear you say it, honey. Say it for me."

"Please", you babbled instantly, not even thinking, not even close, not when Bradley was giving you such easy instructions to follow. "Please, Roos, please."

You could feel him shake his head, obviously unsatisfied, breathing hard, hands travelling up and down your thighs and nothing more, leaving you in some state of being touched but not really being touched and you felt like going insane again.

"Try again, honey", he tutted, and you were already about to plead, to beg even more when he went on - "Look at me, baby, look at me and try again."

You blinked open your eyes, tilted your head down to look at him, all pretty and wide-eyed, just like he'd asked, your fingers cramping in his hair.

"Please, Roos-"

He raised his eyebrows and you knew then, you knew where your mistake had been - you should've known before, you should've-

"Bradley", you moaned. "Please, Bradley, I want you. I need you."

He grinned at that, dropped a kiss to your thigh before flattening his tongue against your folds again, drawing another moan from you. Your eyes stayed fixed on his, but only because you knew he wanted you to, only because you knew he needed you to. His palms splayed out against the backs of your thighs, keeping them still, as always.

His tongue drew a circle on your clit and you arched off the bed, into him, a whine tumbling from your lips, followed by his name. He pulled back much too quickly, much too easily, with a much too satisfied grin on his lips, looking up at you for just a second before he leaned down to drop a kiss to your hip.

"Bradley", you complained, cut off by your own moan when you felt his fingers trail through your wetness instead of his tongue, all soft and slow and you rocked your hips against his hand - more friction, more touch, more, more, more.

You hadn't been kidding when you'd said that you wanted him. That you needed him.

Bradley chuckled, kissing his way up your body again, one hand next to your head to hold himself up just the way he'd done before, but his fingers brushing, stroking, his thumb on your clit, moan after moan spilling from you. You needed more. More.

You tried to shift closer, tried to cant your hips into his palm for more, blinking up at him and whimpering and fuck, Bradley was just human after all, how could he deny you anything if you looked at him like that? So he started drawing little circles with his thumb, little circles on your clit, and pushed a finger into you.

You rewarded him with the soft sound of his name rolling off your tongue, your hands reaching for his arms, clawing at his biceps. You had needed this, had needed him and now... Now you needed more. More, even as he pulled his finger from you and pushed in again, starting in a slow, easy rhythm, drawing little moans, quiet whimpers from you. You rocked your hips back onto him, pushed for more. More.

"More", you voiced your thoughts, begging, pleading again - you weren't getting what you wanted, you weren't getting what you wanted, you weren't getting what you wanted! And you'd been so close, you'd been so goddamn close, but now he was just lazily pushing his finger into you, with one of those grins on his lips that told you he knew what he was doing incredibly well too. He was a tease, a goddamn tease, and you-

"More what, honey?", Bradley asked, interrupting your thoughts, your spiraling thoughts as his finger moved ever so slowly, teasing, playing.

You let out a whine as he stilled completely, his finger nestled inside you, touching you but not touching you enough, not nearly enough and he'd make you go crazy one day, he would! You tried to push your hips into his hand. Not that it did anything.

"More what?", Bradley asked again, looked at you as you refocused on his face, his eyes because you knew he'd want you to. He always wanted you to look at him.

"Please", you whispered. "Bradley."

His smile deepened, but he didn't move.

"Nice try, baby", he chuckled. "But that wasn't the question."

You grumbled and tilted your head back, squeezed your eyes shut and took a deep breath. You wanted more. And he was making you say exactly what.

Putting the power in your hands, it seemed - but you knew it wasn't that. He'd already promised you to do just what you wanted, had said it so easily, so soberly that he'd left you dazed. And now he was asking you to do the same.

You couldn't. He knew you couldn't.

So you let out a small whimper, let your head fall to the side to look at him again, eyes wide and teeth digging into your bottom lip and kept still as best as you could, even as the desire, the need to fuck yourself on his finger grew with every passing breath - trying to make sure that he wouldn't tease you further. He'd done that before already, you knew that he could and he would.

He seemed to have realised it too, your legs, your hips calm now, your eyes fixed on his.

"Please fuck me, Bradley", you said softly, only a little breathlessly, a little nervous around the edges, doing your best not to let your restraint show. You weren't used to just saying stuff like that out loud. It was different, somehow, to say it, and to say it right to his face too.

But as much as you tried to hide it, your body still had the same reaction - breath coming shorter, heat shooting straight to your cheeks, the coil in your stomach tightening again.

Bradley's eyes on yours didn't make it any better.

Neither did his grin as he pulled his finger from you, pulled a moan from your lips right with it, as he brushed it through your folds, up and down before his fingertip stopped on your clit.

"Fuck you how, honey?", he asked. He wanted you to lose your mind, you were sure of that. You bit down on your lip, furrowed your brows, forced yourself to think, to keep thinking even though he was drawing circles on your clit now, bringing you back to the endless loop of more, more, more in your mind.

"Fuck me-", you panted, starting and stopping, closing your eyes. "Rough, please, Bradley. Please."

He pulled his fingers from you entirely, chuckling as you mewled and blinked up at him again, as you watched him raise his hand to your lips. You parted them in reflex, let him push his fingers into your mouth, rest them on your tongue. This, finally, was something you felt much less nervous about. So you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked his fingers clean.

Bradley had you well acquainted with the taste of yourself by now. Not that you minded.

You made sure to keep your eyes fixed on his as you brushed your tongue along his fingertips. He let out some sort of sound caught between a moan and a groan and a curse and, maybe, your name, and you had a hard time keeping your grin concealed as you sucked, spurred on not only the fire in your own abdomen, but in Bradley's as well, red heating up your cheeks and your legs growing restless.

You were getting impatient again. You needed more.

Luckily, it seemed that Bradley had about enough of this as well.

He pulled his fingers from you with a pop, shook his head with a grin, trailed a line of your spit around your breasts, around your nipples.

"You look sinful", he muttered, dropping a kiss to your lips before you could even begin to think about a response, all open mouth and breathing each other in, the taste of you on both your tongues. "Tell me again how you want me to fuck you rough, honey. Just once more. Can you do that for me?"

You nodded, nodded without thinking, panting a bit now, pressing your legs together at his voice, at the look in his eyes, at... at him, at everything about him. You needed him. You'd do anything he asked.

"Fuck me rough, Bradley. Please."

His eyes darkened further. He brought his lips down on yours again, firmer now, heavier now, claiming your mouth, your tongue, your lips, claiming you, back to the familiar, thrilling predator and prey game that the two of you had abandoned at some point along the way.

"Good girl", he rasped.

You let out a pitiful moan. God, this man would absolutely be the death of you.

Good girl.

You couldn't press your legs together any further, couldn't possibly get any more friction, could only whine and whimper and moan and wait, wait as Bradley reached between your bodies and finally, finally, finally pushed into you.

You'd been waiting for this for the past five days.

You let out some pathetic sounding sob of his name as he pressed his hips snugly to yours, stretching you out in the best of possible ways, dropping his lips to your throat, to your neck. You clawed at his arms, at his shoulders, pulled him close to you, even closer. Eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back, breath hitching.

Bradley gave you the entirety of half a second to adjust to him, half a second in which you could barely get past the moan of his name before he was moving, thrusting, his cock sliding in and out of you, drawing sounds you'd have been embarrassed about in any other situation.

But you could barely hear them.

You could barely do anything other than moan, anything other than scratch, hold, claw at him, anything other than let him wrap your legs around his waist and push in, pull out, push in again, his hold on your thigh so firm you'd see the marks tomorrow.

He fucked you with a relentlessness that reduced you to a mess of numb limbs, that pulled every last thought from you, one by one - with a rhythm, unfaltering, unwavering, with soft grunts and moans rolling off his tongue, with his mouth moving against your skin, working his way up to yours.

You met his lips in a frenzy, your hands tangled somewhere in his hair, your nails scratching somewhere down his back, your legs wrapped around his hips, your lips parted, your moans swallowed, his cock sliding in and out of you, the delicious drag of him building, setting alight the coil in your stomach.

You'd been waiting for this for too long. You wouldn't last much longer, not after he'd already pulled the first orgasm from you. Not after he'd been building you up for so long.

"Bradley", you moaned against his lips. "More."

He pulled back an inch and you blinked your eyes open, focused on him, on the blush on his cheeks and the rise and the fall of his chest as he slowed down a bit, drawing another whine from you, feeling different now, slower yes, but more deliberate maybe, more teasing maybe, hitting other spots, dragging it out, feeling more and less intense all the same and - most importantly - letting your close, so close grow weaker and weaker and weaker.

"You know-", Bradley panted, letting his thumb brush over the skin of your thigh, loosening his grip just the slightest. "You know how to ask, pretty girl."

A sob made its way past your lips. You wanted more, you needed more - you'd be good for him, you wanted to be good for him, but you forgot, you brushed right past it when he had you like this. So wasn't it his fault, really?

"Fuck me harder, Bradley", you whimpered - you'd lost the ability to feel embarrassed somewhere along the way. You didn't care anymore, not with his cock so slowly sliding in and out of you, not with his eyes on yours, not with... no, not anymore, you needed more now and you were desperate to get it, already rocking your hips back onto him in search of more - more friction, more touch, more him.

He pressed his lips to yours again, back to claiming you, back to firm, back to teeth and tongue before pulling away, pulling out, pulling another wail from you as he sat back on his ankles, hard and panting.

Then his hands clasped around your waist and you had no time to react before he had turned you over, your face smushed into the pillow, fingers reaching up to dig into the sheets.

He thrust back into you in one swift motion.

And you screamed.

You didn't know how he did it - you didn't want to know, really - but he hit that sensitive spot inside of you instantly, the new position allowing new depth, allowing new touches, new feelings, new and more and you couldn't think, could only touch, only feel.

Only touch, only feel him.

The drag of him, the push of him, the way he hit all those spots he needed to hit to have you up there, to have you close within seconds again.

He trailed his fingertips along your spine, sent a shiver through your body as he fucked you rough, just like you'd asked of him so very, very nicely. He reached your neck, reached around to your throat and when his fingers brushed along your jaw, he clasped his hand around it and pulled. Pulled you up, right to his chest, sweat sticking to your skin as you moaned his name.

You let your head drop back onto his shoulder, gave him more skin to touch, more of your body to claim, more of you to make his as he thrust relentlessly into you, as his other hand brushed between your legs, up your thighs until his fingers met your clit, pushed down and pulled an even louder moan of his name from you.

His hand closed around your throat at the same time.

You choked back a gasp, breath hitching, back arching off him and into him both, more and less clashing in your mind because this was what you wanted, this was what you'd begged him for, but all of it so suddenly, following each other so closely - too much, not enough.

You clenched around him.

Bradley let out a moan - his lips against your ear, the sound of it in every fibre of your body, of your mind, of your soul. And that was it for you.

You came with another cry of his name - a scream, a sob, maybe, or none of it, you weren't sure - maybe you let out no sound at all, rendered silent for once. The world was white for a second, your mouth dry, your throat hoarse, pleasure coarsing through every vein, every limb, every muscle, every bone.

You went slack against him. Your legs gave out, your eyes fell shut, your arms, your hands loose at your sides, and the only reason you didn't fall back onto your mattress were Bradley's arms around you - on your throat, around your hips. His fingertips circling your clit still, his hips snug to yours as he bit down on your shoulder, as he reached his own high, his moustache scratching deliciously against your skin, grounding you as your breath slowly came back to normal, as you won back the feeling in your legs.

You stayed still for a minute - just catching your breath, allowing yourself to take whatever time you needed to come back to yourself, to really notice the way Bradley held you up all on his own, the way his chest felt against your back, the way he had his lips pressed to the skin of your shoulder, the way his thumbs brushed ever so softly up and down, one along your throat, one along your stomach.

You never wanted this to end.

You were warm and safe and satisfied in his arms.

A slow smile spread on your face. Bradley's breath fanned softly over the shell of your ear. You could feel your own heart beat in your chest.

"Satisfied now, honey?", Bradley rasped, voice rough in all the right ways, his lips ghosting over your neck. You let out a soft hum in agreement. He chuckled against your skin.

"I'm gonna let go of you now, princess", he cautioned (you could just so push back the whine that wanted to escape) before ever so slowly, ever so carefully pulling his hand from your throat, pulling his arm from around you - softly pushing down on your back instead, hands wrapped around your hips again, laying you back down on the mattress and then turning you over. The bed was cold in comparison to him. Cold and lonely.

He had to pull out as he lay you down and that whine left your lips after all - you were empty and cold and lonely now and you wanted him, more of him, all of him again. Your legs were mushy and your mind still reeling, but you didn't have to think much anyway, not when you knew just what you wanted. You reached out, arms, hands in mid air as you tried to grab him, any of him.

He was sitting back on his ankles, running his hands through his hair, meeting your eyes as he saw you reach out for him. He looked positively exhausted.

You got hold of his hands and pulled him down, onto you. He brought them - and yours right with them - down next to your head in reflex, effectively pinning you down, and though neither of you had planned that, you still had to fight back a smile.

You were breathless, chest still heaving with the sticky intoxication of the moment, sweaty and hot and satisfied, truly, and you wanted him to wrap you up in his arms now and let you fall asleep on his chest.

Instead, he leaned in with a grin and kissed you. Kissed you with all the fiery passion fading into heady contentment, slow and deliberate, because he had all the time in the world now - it was the middle of the night and both of you were growing tired, your bones heavy, your muscles aching deliciously, your thoughts quiet, lazy almost. The middle of the night where romance could now dominate what had before been lust's reign.

That was what this felt like, Bradley's body on yours, his skin sticky with sweat, his fingers intertwined with yours, pushing down into the mattress. This felt like golden honey dripping down onto the reality of the moment, like gods' ichor flowing in your veins, like unnecessarily long and flowery metaphors for a feeling you felt too afraid to name this early on.

Bradley pulled away, let go of your hands and sat back once more - you followed him on some invisible kind of string, pushing up onto your palms, blinking at him in confusion.

He dropped another quick kiss onto your lips with a chuckle.

"Do you want me to carry you to the bathroom?", he asked, a grin playing on his lips, his hands brushing over your ribcage, your stomach as though he, too, had some carnal need to keep touching you, to keep his fingertips moving over your skin at all times.

You closed your eyes, allowed the smile on your face to grow as wide as it wanted, and nodded at him.

"Yes, please, Roos", you mumbled, bathing in the yellow light of your bedroom lamp, in the soft buzzing of the ac, in the rhythmic tic-toc of your kitchen clock. In all these daily-life things, because they weren't daily-life right now. Right now, Bradley had just fucked you, right now, Bradley was sitting in front of you, right now, Bradley had his hands on your body, right now... Right now, you were happy, happy and satisfied, content with the world.

"Back to Rooster, are we?", he asked, drew his hands back from you and got up. Your smile deepened.

"I thought you liked your callsign", you quipped back innocently, eyes opening again as he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off of your mattress, into the air, just because he could, just because you wanted him to. You didn't think you'd ever possibly get tired of his strength. He was a bit like your own, personally crafted superhero.

"I do", he muttered. You crossed your arms behind his neck, pressed a soft kiss to his jaw. "But the entire squad uses it."

"Oh", you said, exactly like that, because oh, indeed. "So when I say Rooster..."

"I think of work."

You pulled back a bit to look at him, even as his eyes were focused on the wall, trying to find the light switch for the bathroom.

"And you don't like that", you concluded, teeth digging into your bottom lip as a thought struck you. "You don't like thinking of work, Lieutenant?"

Bradley froze.

Bullseye.

"What did you say?"

His eyes focused on you, fixated on you, his jaw clenched, his eyebrows furrowed. You did your best try at an innocent smile, at a doe-eyed look somehow, but you doubted you achieved anything even remotely close.

"Lieutenant", you muttered again, heat pooling in your lap once more simply at the look on his face. You'd uncovered another one of his layers and you were already anticipating the consequences. "Do you want me to beg again?"

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #top gun x reader #bradley bradshaw smut #top gun #top gun smut #x reader #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader

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eldritch-thrumming · 11 months

Text

ok picture it.

steve and eddie both work at a small cafe in the city that specializes in light sandwiches and pasta dishes. steve is the opening manager, off before eddie, a line cook, makes it in for the closing shift and the evening rush.

every day, steve leaves a “friendly reminder” note on the break room whiteboard for the closing shift and every day, eddie’s blood boils when he reads it. it’s not like the closing shift leaves the place looking like a dump; it’s difficult to juggle the dinner rush and pick up the morning shifts slack when they’d left all their dirty dishes in the sink from breakfast and done absolutely no prep for the closers.

in august, one of the cafes busiest months, when tables are full of rude tourists and college students, the closing manager goes on maternity leave and steve’s forced to cover for her. eddie and steve meet for the first time ever and eddie’s even more annoyed by the fact that steve is gorgeous and fuckin cheerful, even after long days where he’s constantly stepping in to defuse conflicts between horrible costumers and the waitstaff.

about two weeks into steve covering the closing shift, he rounds up all the line cooks, hostesses, and waiters and personally apologizes to them for thinking the closing shift was easy. this shit is hard! infinitely harder than opening the store in the morning. he promises them that when he returns to his morning shift duties, he’ll be much more conscious of the way the staff leaves the kitchen for the closers.

after the staff meeting, eddie’s cold feelings start to thaw. it’s clear that steve means what he said. eddie’s never seen a restaurant manager working with the dishwashers at the sink after close. and steve even agrees to let eddie stay after hours to try out some of his own recipes, in hopes they might make it to the menu someday.

after the closing manager returns from her maternity leave, there’s a remarkable shift in the atmosphere of the restaurant. prep work is done before the closers come in, no dishes pile up in the sink, and if there is ever left over work from a particularly busy morning, steve always stays after his shift is over to help take care of it. eddie can’t help but feel a growing fondness for the guy.

one night in december, when eddie’s stayed late to try a new recipe for christmas cookies, the little bell above the front door starts to jingle as it swings open and then closes. it’s not that unusual. sometimes a manager or one of the shift leads has forgotten something or a late delivery is set to arrive and someone has to be there to sign for it.

just as eddie is setting the cookies on a cooling rack, steve walks in to the kitchen, looking… really good. like, date night good. eddie briefly mourns the loss before he calls out a greeting from across the kitchen. steve looks up at him then, smiling wide.

“oh hey, man. forgot my phone in the office,” steve tells him in explanation, moving through the open door next to the walk in freezer. when he reappears in the kitchen, he holds up his phone triumphantly for eddie to see, grinning. he walks around the counter to stand next to eddie. “so what’s on the menu tonight?”

sometimes, when steve was still working the closing shift and had stayed late after mostly everyone had gone home, he’d ask eddie what he was cooking. and eddie, after the pivotal staff meeting, would tell him and sometimes, if he was super confident, he’d even offer steve a taste. steve would compliment him and tell him how awesome it was and, for a few shining moments, eddie would pretend that he could feel something between them.

“just some christmas cookies. trying to work out the mint-to-chocolate ration. wanna taste?” eddie looks up at steve then and thinks he must imagine the way the other man’s eyes dart to his mouth.

“yeah, sure,” steve murmurs softly in the quiet kitchen. eddie clears his throat and takes a small step back, out of steve’s space, and picks up one of the freshly baked cookies, holding it out to steve. steve takes it and takes a bite so big, he’s practically eaten the entire thing in one go. he chews, a contemplative look on his face, before his eyes widen, eyebrows shooting up into his hairline. “fuck, dude,” steve practically moans, mouth full. “i think you nailed it.” it’s a testament to how hot steve truly is that eddie can watch him speak with his mouth full and not be disgusted by him. not even a little bit.

“yeah?” eddie can feel the grin on his own face, practically splitting his cheeks in two.

steve steps a little closer, eating up the space eddie had tried to put between them. “you tried one yet?” steve asks, voice low. eddie swallows and shakes his head. steve’s eyes dart back down to eddie’s lips again, slower and more purposeful this time. “well, you gotta have a taste, eddie.” steve’s voice is practically a purr and eddie can feel the other man’s breath on his lips. neither of them moves to reach for another cookie. instead, steve lifts the remaining bite he has in his hands and lifts it to eddie’s mouth. eddie drops his jaw, obedient, even without being told, and feels steve place the cookie on his tongue. he chews, swallows, all while maintaining eye contact with steve. “good, right?” steve whispers. all eddie can do it nod.

and then, suddenly, the space between them is non-existent. eddie feels steve’s lips against his own, firm and so much softer than he could’ve imagined. steve has him pressed against the counter, his body firm against him and his hand plunged into eddie’s hair, loosening his tight bun. steve’s other hand is on his hip, inching up under the hem of his jacket. eddie let’s out an embarrassing little squeak before his own hands curl into the front of steve’s shirt.

as quickly as it starts, steve’s pulling away, placing a much more chaste kiss to the corner of eddie’s panting mouth.

“been dying to do that,” steve confesses, eyes meeting eddie’s searching. “i forget my phone here at least once a week. keep trying to run into you.” steve huffs out a little laugh. it’s eddie’s turn to look surprised, but he recovers quickly and pulls steve in for another kiss.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #ok this was literally just supposed to be a quick enemies to lovers concept post #two paragraphs max!!!! but it just kept going 😭😭#written in literally 15 mins so idk is this something lol?#absolutely 100% inspired by a tiktok lol

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fangirltothefullest · 4 months

Note

Okay but now what if how you designed Remus but in as many words as you want, because I'm loving these design breakdowns

HELL YEAH!

Remus to me is full of chaos but he is also the antithesis of Roman with similar qualities but a total lack of self consciousness or bashfulness. He is freedom and he gives no shits.

Inspiration 1: Mad Madam Mim

I start with a disney character full of chaos and I am inspired by mad Madam Mim because she is wild and chaotic and i absolutely love how fun she is as a villain and the most important thing for me is that Remus is fun. He's bonkers and has terrible ideas but he's also harmless in terms of reality. He's like an annoying little brother that wants to show you the Weird Gunk he found in the trash.

Inspiration 2: Snidley Whiplash (or Dick Dastardly)

Remus to me is a guy who knows a lot of things and he's actually really clever but he wants to BE a villain like Snidley Whiplash or Dick Dastardly, including the moustache. He wants to tie people to train tracks because it's fun. His personality is "I found the dynamite and the roller skates! :D"

Inspiration 3: Wile E Coyote and looney tunes as a concept

If Remus is anything it's a creature that can be stabbed in the eye and come back fine. It's a person who can make acme-like contraptions that do not work and that's ok. He is, if nothing else, Wile E Coyote and he is having the time of his life. He should therefore have hair that is a littler wild and crazy and untamable like Wile E's tail.

Inspiration 3: Royal villains

We will look at Galavant and also OUaT again!

There's nothing quite as detailed in costume as evil royal villains. They always seem to be the most extravagant or at least have all the buckles and things and Remus has an outfit just the same. Like Roman I want his royalty to show with his clothes but unlike Roman I want Remus to look way less put together. More a culmination of his clothes he chooses to wear but only because he HAS to wear something so he's going to show skin.

Particularly though the one I associate with Remus is Captain Hook from Once Upon a Time.

Inspiration 4: Captain Hook / Pirate aesthetics

Roguish, half-opened shirt, details, dressed fancy, swashbuckling. Remus would make a great pirate because he has the swagger and charm of a drunken man sailing a boat with a pet giant octopus he calls Lil Pussy.

Speaking of octopus...

Inspiration 5: Kraken and hentai

He has an octopus on his belt and he deserves tentacles for a pirate feel but also for fuckin. Cause he's a raunchy bastard. Anything taboo is something he wants to think about.

Inspiration 6: Punk aesthetic

What easier way top buck against the norms than to embrace punk vibes? Jewelry, upside-down crosses, I don't like going overboard with it but I like giving him some. Fingerless gloves, chokers with spikes, those kinds of things work well for his "I am everything your religious grandmother hates, embrace it". His outfits that aren't standard could look like he made them himself or found them in the garbage and went "awesome!"

Inspiration 7: Weapon Master

Remus likes to hit things with his mace and while Roman has his sword, I imagine Remus is an expert at weapons or at least likes to use them so even if I am going to dress him up nice I want a weapon nearby somewhere.

Things that are a must:

So many details, Remus will not leave your eyeballs alone. If you think Roman has details nope, Remus wants your eyes to bleed with them.

Remus should have longer hair than Roman, wilder bangs and wilder curls. Shorter hair is fine but a ponytail is even more fun. Like the tie holding it'll break at any moment.

Weapons galore, arm this baby at every opportunity. Likewise, scars are acceptable but it's ok if they disappear at random because chaos loves chaos.

If Remus has his main garb off he should be showing skin to the best of his abilities and his collar should drape down wider than normal because let that man be a slut.

Tentacles should be numerous when shown and they should have a mind of their own doing whatever they want.

If Roman wouldn't wear it, Remus would. If Roman wouldn't think it, Remus would, and if Roman would be disgusted, Remus would love it.

Remus should have annoying little brother vibes.

Any non-standard outfits should look like he cobbled them together with duct tape and chewing gum.

So I came to this:

#tashiarts #sanders sides #inspiration for remus

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thealogie · 1 month

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My submission to thea's advice column:

Dear Thea,

You mentioned having the resting competent face, well I suffer from the opposite. Any advice on how to successfully implement a fake it till you make it attitude when you look perpetually clueless?

My rapid fire list of advice for faking it until you make it:

-dress really well. I say this fully aware there are many barriers to wearing what you’d like ranging from money to dysphoria but just imagine what your idea of a cool confident character in the movie if your life would wear and then gradually over time buy 4-5 outfits like that and wear them as much as you can. like a costume in a play it will help you act the part. (For me as a feminine woman my power outfit is a suit and tie and high heels and red lipstick)

-practice not getting flustered. are you lost? late? someone said something awkward? you said something awkward? practice not reacting at all. Literally stand in front of a mirror and practice your resting neutral face. Ok now practice putting that face on whenever something happens that would usually get you cringing or fighting or whatever it is you do when you’re nervous. It’s ok to be nervous or anxious, you can work on that later but for now just focus on not reacting. No attempt to fill in the silence. No awkward body language or expression. Just practice looking calm and collected even when you’re not. Think of it as an acting exercise. It goes a long way.

-once you’re more comfortable LOOKING calm and collected, start thinking “what would a cool and confident person say in this situation? If I were a person who was very confident and didn’t get easily flustered by things, what would I do?” and then do or say that thing. It takes practice because sometimes you have to do it very fast.

-secret final step: actually be competent. I’m not saying you’re not but I’m genuinely shocked by the number of people who aren’t curious about cities, cultures, subjects. Just read a lot about different things - Wikipedia is a fine starting place for most things and sometimes an ok ending place for subjects you’re not gonna go deep on!! you don’t have to know about everything but if you know a lot about a handful of things and then a little bit about a lot of things it becomes much easier to stand in a room full of people and be like “I may not know everything they know but I know stuff!”

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luciddreamingcrow · 1 year

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Sagau but make it Cookie run

A/n: also yes I'm gonna write a part 2 really soon^^

K OK OK OK I just have the perfect idea for a au, so in this au is very similar to the sagau (self aware genshin au) BUT instead of genshin it's cookie run (sacrau) but without the self aware(for now) and we end up with a au where reader is the creator of the cookie run universe (earthbread) and I've got some images along w/ that idea.

Pre-self aware:

Ok so first of image goes like this: imagine being the creator of the cookie run universe and be capable to just look at the cookies lives all day long and just like observe like, what do they do? How do they interact with one another? What are their natural enemies? Oh dear do they need to be protected from those cakehounds near the forest? Don't worry cuz the creator is here! And you just summon a cookie fence so they'll stay safe^^

Imagine if perhaps a kingdom or a land one day they run out of their sugar supply and little cookies are running around and panicking because like how are they gonna survive?????? And then out of nowhere the creator summons a hole ass bag full with sugar that is triple the size of them, and in a empty area in front of them

OK but like IMAGINE you, the creator, making miniature houses for fun and then later giving them to the cookies are in need of one 😭😭😭 like the ones bellow

of course the cookies would be confused abb this weird phenomena but in the end they would be thanking the heavenly witches for their blessing

What if you, the creator, have the capability to transform yourself as a cookie and you just look around in awe at the miniature buildings you created being used and cherished by other cookies aaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Also imagine before you, the creator, would transform into a cookie I don't think you would be able to understand what the cookies are saying, and for example whenever you would observe herb cookie you would just hear "hoohoo, hoohoohoo hoohooHOO" (context: herb cookie is in his weekly therapy session)

Also I want to publicly apologize to my friend cuz I spammed them in the early morning cuz I got milky way cookie and financiers costume, anyways Stan milky way cookie.

#cookie run x reader #cookie run kingdom x you #cookie run kingdom x reader #crk x reader #cookie run kingdom #fanfic #cookie run fanfic #cookie run fandom #pure vanilla x reader #affogato x reader #milky way #milky way cookie #moonlight cookie #dark cacao x reader #espresso cookie x reader #red velvet x reader #almond cookie x reader #clotted cream x reader #black pearl cookie x reader

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jaded-jezz · 11 months

Text

Shutter Speed (Part 2)

Jack Champion x Photographer!Reader

Part 2/3

☁︎ Fluff

Summary: y/n is a photographer for the new scream promo and Jack thinks she belongs in front of the camera rather than behind.

(Y/N POV)

"Look who decided to show up!" I hear Jenna say but I am too occupied in taping marks on the floor to turn around. Leah goes over to introduce herself, welcome the late cast to the shoot and explain the plan and rules.

"You must be Y/N?" I hear my name and stand up to correct the voice. "I'm Leah, she's Y/N." Leah turns to me as I appear next to them.

“Woah…I mean Jack, I’m hi.” The boy in front of me stutters. “No! I mean Hi, I am Jack. Sorry for being late.” I hold back a small laugh and smile. “Are you sure you’re Jack? I mean the name ‘hi’ might suit you more.” I jest. “I’m Y/N, did Leah go over all the rules? Are there any questions?” My voice moves back into professional mode as we have a lot of work to do today.

(JACK'S POV)

"You totally played that off man" Mason chuckles behind me, pulling me out of the trance that this Y/N has put me in. I feel my face heating up and I can't tell if its the multitude of lights in here or her stare that burned through my heart. God snap out of it, Jack, you have to do your job today.

I watch Y/N fall into her element and do what, I can tell that, she loves. She is mesmerizing.

"Stop drooling, she may run away" I hear Jenna whisper to me and before I can defend myself, "Umm... next I need Jack Champion over here on the blue mark please" You need me? Ok say less, I joke to myself to calm my nerves. I keep my eyes on the floor to ensure I don't trip but also so that I won't turn into a blushing mess if she looks at me. God, this is the first time I've been glad these lights are this bright.

I follow her instructions, her voice is music to my ears. It's like I am under a spell. A love spell? No lets not get ahead of ourselves. Wait, she's staring at me.

"Jack? Do you wanna see one of the photos?" Leah suggests from the side of the room, trying to break the awkward silence between the two of us. "Oh sure!" I stumble over wires to stand next to her. "No, go over to Y/N, she'll show you how everything works and how the images will be edited after the shoot."

(Y/N POV)

I give Leah a panicked look before Jack turns to walk over. His curls bounce as he hops over the leg of the tripod. "Oh you are tall." I say without thinking. "Oh yeah, but so are you." He answers looking down at me. "It's probably my shoes." I laugh, "Did you wanna see the photos?" I bring up the subject to make sure I don't say anything I may regret.

"Do you enjoy being a photographer?" Jack inquires. That sets me off. I could talk for hours about photography.

"I have loved it since I was 10 and I could not imagine persuading any other career. I am constantly thinking of photo shoots whenever I leave my house. Wall of graffiti? Photo shoot idea. Aesthetic shampoo bottle? Photo shoot idea. I am constantly inspired by everything around me which means my job can be difficult when I am given a strict brief but luckily, whoever hired us, gave us full creative freedom." I wave my arms around for emphasis. But too much emphasism as I almost hit Jack. He swerves and giggles, luckily.

"Oh shit, I am so sorry." I cringe and look back to the camera screen. "It's ok, Y/N" The way he says my name makes a swarm of butterflies flutter in me. I look up into his eyes. Brown eyes used to freak me out because it is more difficult to see the pupil, but maybe I like them a bit more now. Maybe he can help me like other things too. Ew, don't get carried away or you will scare him off.

After our stares last a beat too long, Leah clears her throat and alerts the group that we will now be moving to an outside shoot. She tells them to go back to the changing rooms to get out of their costumes and into the brand we are shooting with for the second part of the day. While they leave, Leah and I start to collect the equipment we are bringing. I grab my notebook for the checklist.

"You are doing great Y/N, especially with a certain someone." Leah raises her eyebrows and winks at me. I roll my eyes and walk over to turn off some of the bigger lights.

(JACK'S POV)

As the group walks to change, I see Jenna and Mason standing by the doors. They are sharing a similar look towards me, it's kinda freaking me out. "He totally does!" "Yep, I can see it in his eyes." I roll my eyes at their odd behavior and attempt to walk past them. "Oh no Mister."

They drag me out of the studio and into the hallway. "Man, when I said charm them with your good looks, I sorta hoped you would also charm her with the rest of you." Mason starts. "Yeah, we knew you were awkward, but not this bad. I wanted to claw my eyes out!" Jenna exclaims rather loudly.

"Could you be any louder? And it wasn't that bad, and I am not flirting!" I shout in a whisper. "No one said you were flirting, except you." Jenna retorts. "We've exposed you without even trying" Mason shouts to annoy me again. "Fine, she's really beautiful and she is really passionate about her job which is kinda cute and-"

"Ok lover boy relax, you don't need to go into detail." Jenna cuts me off with a look of both disgust and happiness, so I know she is just being sarcastic. "We will help you get this girl of your dreams" Mason adds. I can't tell if this is a bad idea but I nod and walk to the changing rooms to make sure I am not late again.

When we are all re-dressed, the cast starts to follow Leah out but I look for Y/N. I see her pacing back and forth, looking rather stressed. I don't know if me going over will make it worse. But I don't have time to decide as two pairs of hands push me towards her.

"Y/N, are you ok? Have you lost something?" "Yes! My notebok. It has all my plans and lists inside. I really need it. Like right now. Is it hot in here? Or is it just me?" She panics. "Ok, you need to sit down before you faint or something goes wrong."

I reach for her hand and gently guide her to sit next to me. I scan the room for a notebook before asking her any questions. She keeps a hold of my hand and I have to pretend not to notice or I might be the one to faint. "Is it that green thing over there?"

(Y/N'S POV)

"Oh my god! Yes it is!" I jump up and grab it. When I turn around, I am again faced with Jack's chest. I look up at him and smile. I feel weirdly calm after that whole anxiety filled fiasco, maybe it's because of Jack?

"Thank you Jack, I think I would've died without this." I try to laugh. "That's ok, I think we need to go now though, I know you have quite a strict schedule for today." He responds.

Jack offers to hold some equipment to make sure I can see where I am going over the pile of objects. When we leave the building I see the other cast members grabbing or putting away stuff in their cars so I take my kit back from Jack to allow him to do the same. I walk over to Leah to let her know I found the notebook.

"I was going to come back to help you but I heard a certain someone calming you down." She says as I stand next to her. "He is definitely your type, isn't he? Tall, lanky-" I cut her off "Yes Leah you don't need to continue. I can't let a silly crush get in the way of today though. It's not even a crush! I've not even known him for five minuets! All I know is his name." I say so fast I almost run out of breath.

"Let's get going while the sun is still out." I shout to the group.

(This is the photoshoot that inspired this series so you can vision this location and photoshoot style)

(TIME SKIP + STILL Y/N POV)

We have been talking photos outside in both groups and alone. It's so sunny outside that no lights are needed, just portable reflectors. Which are big circles of materials that bounce the sun in a chosen direction. Leah and I split up for the last half an hour as we have different ideas due to the location and lighting right now. Some of the cast have moved away to film TikToks and to stand in the shade but some are continuing to model for us if they have less photos than others.

I noticed Jack had finished talking to Mason and Jenna before he started walking over to me.

"Hey Y/N! Is there any last ideas in your notebook?" He asks.

"Oh just this one." I start. "Because of the harsh sun I am are able to play around with different filters on my camera. One of my favorite makes stars in light reflections, would you try out over here?" My hands are shaking as I hand him a small square of mirrored glass.

We mess around for a while, me running back and forth to show him how to pose, how to angle the mirror to reflect light and to show him the results. After a while I am so out of breath that Jack finds it funny.

As the sun starts to go down, the cast all joins up for the last photo including Leah and I for our Instagram. We all start walking back slightly delirious due to the amount of running around some of us had been doing. Jack is walking next to me, at the back of the group, continuing one of our random conversations from earlier.

"You are really talented Y/N, I know you have probably been told that a lot today, but you really are." Jack says in a slight hushed tone. I can't control the big smile on my face. He is such a genuine human being. "Thank you for being a wonderful model." I laugh.

I notice him glance ahead at the group before slowing down and truing to me. "I don't know if i have read this situation wrong but I think you are beautiful and I get feel like we get along so well even though we haven't known each other that long and I am rambling aren't I?" He looks down at his feet and rakes a deep breath.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go out on a date with me?" He finally looks me in the eye as he says this. "Wow Jack, of course I will. I don't think someone has made me laugh this much, apart from myself obviously" I jest. We trade numbers as we catch up with the group.

After the cast all go their separate ways, Leah and I burst out into screams of happiness. "MY BEST FRIEND IS GOING ON A DATE WITH A HOT, FAMOUS PERSON WHOOOOOP" Leah shouts as we skip around the car park, arms linked.

Who wants a Part Three? It will be about pre-date, during and maybe even their reactions with friends after too?

As always, requests are currently open!

Please do not repost this, reblogs are appreciated.

Also some people asked me to Tag them so here you go:

@gwenlore @multi-simp-page @daffodil-darlings @mummatiri

I’m quite new to tagging people so lemme know if you want to be tagged for all my Jack Champion Posts or just this series?

#actress #actress reader #fluff #im so alone #jack champion x reader #marry me jack champion #jaded jellyfish sting #jack champion #oneshot #x reader #photographer reader #photography #shutterspeed #shutter speed

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gowns · 5 months

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you know, they tell you all about childhood wonder, but i made spaghetti squash last night, and i told my 6 year old, "look! this looks like an ordinary squash, but look what happens when you cook it! it's going to turn into spaghetti!" and i roasted it and took it out of the oven and showed her, "look! look! check this out! it's like magic! spaghetti!!!!" digging my fork into the squash, the little strings coming out looking so goddamn much like spaghetti, in a way that still amazes me, as an adult, even though i've seen it happen before, it's still incredible to me, holy shit, here's this thing that grows out of the ground and we figured out that if you roast it the insides look identical to this other thing that exists, that is also edible, and they taste pretty good with the same seasonings and sauces.

"look! the squash turned into spaghetti! holy cow!" i even wrapped the strings around my fork, like a spaghetti commercial.

my 6 year old looked at my fork, looked at me, with a world weary glare, then rolled her eyes. "i'm not going to eat that." "ok, ok, you don't have to eat it, but isn't it cool?! how does it do that?!" "whatever." whatever! how can you whatever seeing a spaghetti squash for the first time?!

i tell you, we were sold a bill of goods about childhood wonder. there are so many things that amaze me that don't amaze my kids.

when i think about it, i remember that i was the same way, when i was that age, when i learned to read bigger books; i read a few science books, then i felt like i knew everything, and nothing amazed me anymore, everything that could be imagined had already happened. everything had a rational explanation. christmas lights were just electricity. mickey mouse is just a guy in a costume. vegetables are just vegetables and not that exciting; food doesn't need to be exciting, after all, it just needs to be safe and familiar.

just a few hours after the spaghetti squash, after i had put them to bed -- i heard the gentle click of my kid's bedroom door. her head popped into the bathroom, where i was taking a bath.

"i can't go to sleep, because i'm afraid."

"afraid of what?"

"i was watching a show about rattlesnakes, and a gila monster was about to eat them, and i turned it off, but now i'm still thinking -- what if i was a snake, and a gila monster was about to eat me?"

"...well, you are very lucky, because you are not a snake. and there are no gila monsters here."

"yes, but what if i was a snake? and what if there was a gila monster?"

"but you are a kid, and you are safe in your bedroom."

"but what if i wasn't?"

what i love about kids is that they are full of surprises. you can't predict how they'll react to things. adults follow scripts, but kids write their own. especially in these brief, precious years -- between 4 and 10 -- when they have enough language to communicate and process the world, but they're not following any scripts yet. and they have big emotions because they bristle against all the scripts being presented to them.

so you get all these funny contrasts -- the big christmas decorations are "whatever," but what's really fun is twisting these fuzzy pipe cleaners together. this toy doll is kind of fun, but what's really fun is pouring water in her mouth until she's sopping wet, cracking up because it's like she peed all over herself, then deciding to take a bath at noon. (taking a bath at noon is fun, taking a bath at bathtime is not.) the "make your own cookie" pre-made set is not fun, but mixing a big bowl of flour until everything is covered in white definitely is.

i love them because they're right. because we're both right. because they fill my life with contrasts. the spaghetti squash IS amazing, and it's ALSO pretty boring. coloring on paper IS limited fun, coloring on walls DOES feel liberating. it's true that we are not snakes, but what if we WERE?

we are always showing each other alternative ways of being!

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lizzieislife94x · 4 months

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Halloween (w.m)

Just to update the book message me if you have a request 😊

WandaxG!P Reader

i know the picture isnt halloween or wanda but this is how she looks ok lmao just go with it.

Y/ns POV:

"Nat help me please I don't know what to dress up as I can't even match with wanda because she won't tell me her costume" I pout as I slump back on the chair of the store we're in as she laughs at me "y/n calm down we have plenty of time we'll find you something to wear" I sit up looking at Natasha "dude what about scarface just a simple black suit open shirt and cute hat to tie it off" she looks at me like she's thinking the idea over "hmm yeah that could work" she smirks as we look for the perfect suit after an hour we're finally done "I HATE shopping" I say with an over exaggerated tone acting over dramatic "you're such a child y/n" she laughs as she pushes me making me laugh "let's go get coffee" I pout god Inever knew I needed an iced coffee till now "yessssssss I'm in let's go hoee" she says with excitement to her tone we head to starbucks both of us chatting about what we think tonight's party will turn into Tony will go over the top like always.

Wandas POV:

I lay back on my bed letting out a groan as I run my hands over my face "wanda it's OK it's not THAT short just don't bend over" Maria says with a deep laugh "I know I wanted a slutty bunny but don't you think this is to much if I bend over even a little everyone will get a show my tits are practically spilling out I just don't know if I should go for something a little more safe" I sigh as Maria sits beside me "wanda it's fine you look sexy as fuck just imagine y/ns face as you walk into the party" I bite my lip as the thought of my girlfriend laying eyes on me enters my mind mmmh fuck she'll loose her shit I wonder how long I can tease her before she rips what little material there is off my body and fucks me senseless "eww wanda your thinking about her seeing you in that a little to hard" she says with a laugh snapping me out of my thoughts making me laugh "thanks for helping me Maria I'd have gave up like 2 hours ago" I say as she gives me a smile "don't mention it wands always here to help, so what do you think y/n will come as tonight" I look at her and sit on the edge of the bed "I honestly don't know she didn't give me any ideas we said we'd keep eachothers as a surprise but I know she'll look amazing' I smile as I think of y/n.

Y/ns POV:

That coffee was amazing just what I needed I'm currently waiting outside starbucks as Nat pays for some cakes to take back to the compound "want me to carry them" I say as Nat walks towards me with cakes in hand she laughs and shakes her head "no y/n it's OK but thank you" I nod and we walk back to the car the drive back to the compound is fast and full of laughter I quickly jump up and get the cakes from the trunk as Nat tries to get them first "ha I got them" I say with a proud smile as we walk inside to an empty looking compound I walk to the kitchen putting the cakes down and head upstairs "hello is anyone even home" I yell after a minute wanda runs from our room straight into my arms "babyyy I missed you did you find a costume" I spin her a little as I squeeze her "I did I did honey I can't wait to see your costume tonight though" I say with a smile as I place her down and kiss her lips it started as a sweet innocent kiss but soon turned passionate and lustful I pin her to the wall as I make my way to her neck kisses and sucking as she moans pulling me closer to her "mhh baby make me feel good" she whispers I smirk and grip her hips as I suck her sweet spot making sure I leave my mark "right here baby in the hallway" I moan against her neck as my hand sides up her top instantly finding her perky tits with no bra covering them I play with her nipples as she bites her lip and nods "words slut" I smirk as she moans when she gets sloppy like this wanting to fuck in risky places she loves when I'm rough and speak to her like that and honestly it's such a turn on when she's acting like a desperate slut "fuckkkk baby please just fuck me right here right now before anyone comes up here" I bite my lip and moan as I push her back against the wall dropping to my knees pulling her shorts down I look up a ther with an eyebrow raised "no panties maximoff " I smirk as I advert my eyes back to her dripping core I rub my thumb over her clit biting my lip as she moans at the touch I lean in placing gentle kisses over her clit her moans are music to my ears and enough to make my not so little friend downstairs wake up I quickly stand up and turn her pressing her face against the wall "mhhh baby so sexy when your acting like a desperate slut for me" she moans as I unzip my pants pushing them down as my dick springs out to action "I need you baby stop teasing and fuck me" she groans, I smirk and slap her ass as I grab her hips and fix her to where I want her I spread her legs looking down moaning at my perfect girlfriend I grab my cock and step closer as I run my tip through her dripping folds causing both of us to moan at the contact "so fucking wet honey" I gently begin to push my dick inside her tight cunt as a string of moans leave her mouth "uh shit yessso..big...fuckkk y/n" she moans a little to loud but I don't even care who hears at this point I grab her hips and slam deep inside her tight cunt as she screams in pleasure and I moan as I lean my head back giving her a chance to adjust to my size

"fuck babygirl I love the way your pussy grips my dick" I groan I start to thrust slowly enjoying the sounds my girlfriend is making "fa...faster" she whimpers out I smirk and slap her ass as I pull almost all the way out and slam deep inside her cunt causing her to scream"so good" she says as her eyes roll her legs start to shake letting me know I'm hitting the right places I pick up my pace thrusting deeper and faster fuck I wish I could see her tits bounce as I fuck her, I lean in and gently bite her shoulder as I quicken my thrust the sound of her wet cunt and our skin slapping is all that can be heard if anyone comes near they'll definitely hear, I smirk the thought of getting caught turning me on more I continue my brutal pounding as she turns into a drooling mess legs shaking I feel my orgasm approach as she let's out a scream her walls gripping my cock "I'm I'm fuckkkk I'm cumming" she breaths out as I continue to thrust faster after a few more thrusts I slam deep inside her shooting my load deep in her tight little cunt I lean my head forward against her back as we both try and regain our composure "so fucking good princess' I moan against her back as she only nods in agreement "you want me to carry you to our bedroom princess" I giggle leaving kisses along her shoulder "mhhh yes please" she whispers in a sweet sleepy voice I slide out of my girlfriend earning a moan from both of us I fix my pants as I lean down and fix wandas shorts pulling them up I pick her up and walk along to our bedroom as she cuddles into me "I love you y/n" she whispers in a sleepy voice I smile and rub her back "I love you too princess, come on let's get a nap before we need to get ready for the party we have a few hours and when we get up ill run you a nice bath" she just mumbles a mhh mhhh making me giggle I open our door and head inside closing at as I place wanda down she instantly crawls under the covers and looks at me with sleepy eyes "baby come cuddle" my heart glows at the sight and I climb into bed cuddling up with wanda I quickly set an alarm for 2 hours from now that takes us to 4pm plenty of time to get ready I look down at wanda who looks so content cuddled up to me and smile "you own my heart princess" I lean down placing a gentle kiss on her head before falling asleep with a smile.

AN: Just a little update for yall this will have a part 2 which I will do later☺️hope everyone's having a great day/night remember all feedback is welcome good or bad and requests as always are very much open 😀 word count just over 1.6k

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thethirdromana · 1 year

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Kerr Avon's costumes, rated

The sequel to Romana II's costumes, rated, here by popular* request! (*maybe not very popular.)

Screengrabs from here (copied rather than linked per their FAQs). Invaluable record of what Avon actually wears in which episode from here. I haven't included overcoats, spacesuits, or anything Avon doesn't actively choose to wear, like prison clothes. Which means that rating this monstrosity

is left as an exercise for the reader.

I've also not done every single variation on black jackets with studded panels, even when they are technically different black jackets with studded panels, because otherwise we'd be here all night.

As seen in Space Fall and Cygnus Alpha.

Ugh. It's fine. The heights of bonkersness that Blake's 7 costume design would reach are not even really hinted at here. It's a perfectly reasonable outfit - grey shirt, grey trousers, grey tabard-thing. Add a name badge and Avon could be stocking shelves in a fancy supermarket. I'll allow that it does look comfortable, which will not be a theme of much else on this list. 5/10.

As seen in Time Squad.

I don't hate the brown patchwork thing (though brown is rightly Blake's colour), but what's going on with the larger square over his stomach? I feel like he's about to do some welding or something and it's there to protect his clothes, but it is his clothes. Avon only wore this outfit once, and who can blame him? 2/10.

As seen in The Web, Seek-Locate-Destroy, Mission to Destiny, Duel, Project Avalon, Breakdown, and Deliverance.

I think this one may have suffered from the passage of time. Because I look at it and think, why has Avon chosen to dress like an old-fashioned stereo system? But from the vantage point of 1978, I guess Avon had chosen to dress like a decidedly modern stereo system. Look at those rounded corners, he could be a first-gen iPod. And the matching grey of collar and cuffs is a nice touch. None of this answers the question of why he has buttons across his tits, but there are some things that are not for us to know. 8/10.

As seen in Bounty and Orac.

Oooh, green. Green is a nice change. And if you're watching Blake's 7 and you're enjoying those green sleeves, you'd better make the most of them, because other than one very notable exception, this is the last time that Avon wears an outfit that isn't brown, white, black or shades of grey for the entire rest of the series. The rest of it looks a bit like someone's Star Trek Discovery uniform cosplay got out of hand. 6/10, because green.

As seen in Redemption and Killer.

Obviously, this is a classic. And full marks to Paul Darrow for wearing a costume that was literally bought from a sex shop and making it look like something that anyone might wear to their normal day of fighting oppression and engaging in homoerotic tension. 10/10.

As seen in Shadow, Horizon, Gambit, and Children of Auron.

OK fine I threw away the term "classic" too soon, this is the true classic, the time Avon decided to dress as a thermal blanket and then pair that with thigh-high boots. ICONIC. What I love about this is aside from being batshit, it's actually kind of a nice outfit? I imagine that shiny fabric was absolute hell to work with but the gathering at the shoulders means it hangs surprisingly well.

It also gains at least 5 bonus points for featuring in this, one of my all-time favourite Blake's 7 moments:

I wish I could find it as a gif, but you'll just have to join me in pretending these images are moving instead. And in heaving a nostalgic sigh for the era when men were allowed to have normal bodies on TV. 15/10.

As seen in Shadow.

I've tried to go for just one main outfit per episode, because this is already very long and we're only about halfway through. But I had to make an exception for matching! outfits! And all the better for being an outfit that looks great on all three of them. I only wish that Avon could have had some silver boots like Jenna is wearing, I think it would really have completed the look. 9/10.

As seen in Weapon, Pressure Point, Countdown, and Dawn of the Gods.

In some ways, this costume is quite practical. Avon is wearing something not a million miles from bikers' leathers here, and the quilted part of the chest and back would presumably offer him a bit of protection if he got into a fight. But also, it's the colour and style of a brothel sofa, and there's no way in hell he could wear this and retain the ability to lift his arms above his head.

God, I love this show. 10/10.

As seen in Trial, Hostage, Voice From the Past, The Keeper, Star One, Aftermath, and Powerplay.

I have less to say about this because - and I mean this in full tribute to the Blake's 7 costume designers - it's just a nice jacket! It stays in keeping with the design trends we see throughout the series, with panels of different fabrics, and spacewear shiny silver bits, but ultimately you could wear this on the street today and no one would give you a second look. I quite like that about it. 8/10.

As seen Aftermath. (And the loose black shirt in Voice From the Past is similar too).

Maybe this is just my mid-00s goth-adjacent phase showing through, but I am, and always will be, a sucker for a man in this kind of shirt. 8/10, please don't make me justify this further.

As seen in Volcano and Rumours of Death.

The first of many similar black outfits, where I'm going to be selective or this will get tedious very quickly. I think this is the best of them; after this, the 80s started up in earnest, and Avon's shoulders were never allowed to be their natural width again. 9/10.

As seen in The Harvest of Kairos.

My parents haven't been camping in years, but somewhere in the attic they still have an old tent, which lives in a bag that looks a lot like this outfit. As if I needed any more reasons to dislike The Harvest of Kairos. 1/10.

As seen in Ultraworld.

Avon what are you doing. Brown is not your colour. I think I might headcanon that this is Blake's jacket, because aside from the brownness it also seems to be a fair bit too big for Avon. After a couple of seasons of squeezing him into the lobster outfit and other tight leather things, the costume designers seem to have swerved hard into boxy shapes from this point onwards. I disapprove. Honestly, I was going to skip this one except that I love what Dayna is wearing. Wish Avon could have some of that energy. 2/10.

As seen in Death-Watch.

Let's pause for a second, look to the left, and appreciate that Dayna is wearing another fabulous outfit. Now let's take a deep breath, and look at the utter monstrosity that Avon is wearing. Like a matador crossed with a bumper car. 0/10.

As seen in Rescue, Power, Traitor, Stardrive, Animals, Headhunter, Orbit, Warlord, and Blake.

Avon wears some kind of black jacket with studs for nearly all of season D, but I've picked this as the definitive one. I don't know if there's some kind of clever character development thing going on here with how big this costume is, like Avon is expanding into his leadership role, but weighed down by the responsibility too. It could be deliberate, it could just be what fashion was like in the early 80s.

What I do know is that however meaningful this costuming might be, it's not flattering. 5/10, and Avon finishes the series, sadly, no better dressed than he began it.

#blake's 7 #costuming #kerr avon #paul darrow #i'm game for doing Servalan next though tbh i'd prefer Jenna so i can look at some actual colours

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beeindaclouds · 2 years

Text

What Halloween couple outfit you wear w/ the DSMP

Includes: Dream, Georgenotfound, Sapnap, Badboyhalo, Skeppy, Quackity, Karl Jacobs, Wilbur Soot, C!Philza, C!Technoblade, Nihachu, Eret, Punz, FoolishGamers, Awesamdude

Click here before requesting, please ^^

Reader: GN - They/Them

A.N: Can I just say, if the DT picture's don't have them dressed as the Power Puff Girls, I'll be angry >:[ /hj

Dream: Spiderman & MJ [Spiderman]

Did I get this idea from the face reveal? Yes.

Like I imagine most of your pictures being his facea slightly shown, just as a tease, even if he has face revealed already lol. And the obligatory upside down kiss u.u

🎃

Georgenotfound: Team Rocket [Pokemon]

Honestly, I had no ideas for George-

But I think the costume would suit him, and you would 100% make a tik tok w/ the team rocket catch phrase

🎃

Sapnap: Killua & Gon [HunterxHunter]

This is just me manifesting Sapnap cosplaying as Killua

The outfits are pretty comfy, and don't take much time to make. You two also probably bought very very cheap wigs and just went with it. But y'all looked adorable anyway

🎃

Badboyhalo: Shaggy & Velma + Scooby

This was definetly just a way to get Rat to dress up as something too

Again, the outfits are pretty simple and, by the end of the night, you had so many pictures of Rat with the Scooby's collar and a headband with similar ears to his too. Your memory card is probably almost full by then haha

🎃

Skeppy: Robin & Steve [Stranger Things] [Platonic]

Skeppy suits Steve's whole character so much

🎃

I feel like they have similar personalities, and Stranger Things couldn't be more well known, so you two found a great costume

Quackity: Mario & Sonic

Honestly, I wanted to put a funny outfit but couldn't think of one T^T

I mean this one is not bad, especially after the whole "Chris Pratt" situation, it couldn't be funnier to dress up as Mario. And Sonic has been popping off w/ it's movies, so what a great couple haha

🎃

Karl Jacobs: Prince Bubblegum & Marshall Lee [Adventure Time]

Really wanted him to have an Adventure Time costume, and what could be more perfect then these two?

Karl dressed in a prince like pink costume, while you rock a casual Marshall lee like costume. You definetly used the confidence you had in the costume to tease Karl a little, which he did not found funny at all. You could see it in his pink tinted cheeks

🎃

Wilbur Soot: Harry & Ginny [Harry Potter]

This could also be changeable, maybe if you are more of a Drarry fan you could dress up as Draco

Regardless, Wilbur is already British, so what more could be perfect? He has the glasses, the attitude and just needs a costume and the typical lightning scar on his forehead

Technoblade: Thing 1 & Thing 2

🎃

Philza: The Addams Family [Platonic]

Tristin and Phil would look absolutely adorable as Morticia and Gomez. Then you, and the rest of SBI, get to choose who to be of the family u.u

🎃

Look me in the eyes, and tell me this isn't perfect? Right, you can't!

Cause let's be honest, Techno would be too lazy to make a costume. And with this one you just gotta have a red shirt and a circle of paper with "Thing 1/2" written on it

🎃

Nihachu: Angel and Devil

Feel like this outfit is so overused by now

But you two found that it suited you very much, so you went with it anyway and looked damn good in the costume!

🎃

Eret: Jack & Sally [Nightmares before Christmas]

Honestly, the outfits you can make for this are spectacular!

And you could easily agree on who to be. Eret could be Jack in his typical suit or Sally in her usual dress, and vice versa w/ you. We love a versatile couple u.u

🎃

Punz: Nick & Judy [Zootopia]

Ok- hear me our- Nick's personality is basically Punz's-

And who wouldn't want to see Punz in some cute fox ears and a tail? Definitely not you. I can already hear Punz teasing you with the "Smart fox, dumb bunny" line hehe

🎃

FoolishGamers: Sandy & Danny [Grease]

There are some aspects of Danny that don't suit Foolish, at all, but the costume would look amazing on y'all

You two also tried learning one of the dance too, it didn't end well, but the video attempts were hilarious and a great memory for the future

🎃

Awesamdude: Cosmo & Wanda [Fairly Odd Parents]

Did I mainly go w/ the fact that Sam's color scheme is mostly green? Yes-

But the costume is easy, and you two rock it completely. You could also put your own spin on the costume, just to make it more unique!

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onesidedradiostatic · 2 months

Note

I’m so sorry for this anon 😭 no due date on this! or ever. Maybe delete. Its passing on brainrot, like rabies

Imagine, if you will… dust is settling after vox and alastor have kicked major overlord ass. rubble and corpses still on fire. dramatic not-last-jedi music swells as they both catch their breath and their eyes meet. Vox closes the distance between them… there’s a beat of suspense (popcorn noises)

“I want you to join me. We can rule together and bring a new order to Hell”

“Don’t do this, Vox. Please don’t go this way.”

“N- no, you’re still!! Holding on!! Let go!! Do you wanna know the truth about your marketing reach? It’s LIMITED. You have no professional marketing training, you come from nothing. You’re nothing. But not to me.” OK SIKE I CANT DO THIS BIT ANYMORE

but imagine if Vox pulled out a PowerPoint Presentation with stonks graphs, logos, matching power-couple costume sketches, merch, HQ tower blueprints that he’s had in development for months etc. Or he’s like “we could make beautiful content together you know what I mean? like, an… intimate merrrgerrrr. but nothing full on if you’re not into that haha, I mean you’d set the pace, or I could..? I guess what I’m saying is… I’m gonna be candid here *wipes sweat, shakes nervous fanboy energy from his hands* Alastor The Radio Demon, would you do me the honor of accepting my proposal, and being partners with benefits” cringecringecringe typing all that was a copypasta nightmare. the bit never ends

And alastor says something like “haha you couldn’t pay me to! You think I’d lower my standards? Throw away my integrity? How deluded!” Throw some shame and humiliation onto vox’s emotional dumpster fire. Or really to the point: “I reject your business proposal. I’d rather die.” all because

1. ego, and

2. he thought the logos were ugly

I need it to be an UNHOLY, CRINGE DISASTER. Like i wanna be drafting my WILL from the secondhand embarrassment I want it nuclear.

but at the same time a really simple non-event would also be hilarious, considering what a huge issue Vox has made of it. Mountain out of a molehill

this reads like it escaped my immortal im so sorry

LMAOOOO NAH dw I love vox just being as cringe as humanly possible when it comes to alastor, like it could've been something simply or maybe he did make a huge show out of it, a really dramatic """business proposal""", something he poured his whole heart into a blunt "ha! no" from alastor. yeah if he was that cringe and ended up being rejected anyways making it all be for nothing I think I'd understand why he ended up being so salty

#ask #osrs.txt #take the L loser #radiostatic #staticradio #<- one-sided #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor

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changenbirthenstein · 8 months

Text

Pranks

(Content Warning: Transformation, Birth, Egg Laying)

“Stop being such a wimp, it’s a harmless prank!”

My friends stood across from me, smirking. This was something we’d been planning for months, and yet now it seemed… wrong, dangerous in a way I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Oh sure, it has been easy, fun to talk about. All a big joke, but in my head I could still tell myself it was all just a big game. I could reassure myself, think it was just a thought exercise, nothing anyone else really wanted to follow through with.

Now though… we were really in front of her farm. The one people talked about in whispers, the one ran by the old ugly woman that was only seen in town around the fall seasons. She never hired any help, never came to the farmer’s markets, never seemed to socialize. All the old farmer would do is glare at everyone she hobbled past, jabbing them with her walking stick when they got in her way, paying for various supplies with money nobody knew how she got.

Of course such strange, hostile behavior would lead to rumors. It didn’t help that nobody had ever seen her working her fields, and yet always had incredible yields come harvest. With becoming a local myth comes a certain degree of people like us wanting to poke the tiger, to discover the truth, certain we’d be ok, find something nobody else had.

The plan was simple. Sneak onto the property, make our way to her barn. Throw some paint over some of her animals as a “costume” for halloween and then get out. And if we looked around for some clues as to how she was managing the farm all on her own, what was the harm of that? And really, what could she do? The cops wouldn’t do much even if she called them, and its not like she would shoot us.

Terra rolled her eyes and walked toward the low fence marking the boundary of the old woman’s farm. “Seriously, you all are so lame sometimes, I don’t get why I hang out with you.” With that, the blonde girl hopped over the barrier with little effort, turning and holding her arms out to show that she was alright. “See? I didn’t evaporate or explode or something. Now come on, lets get this over with.”

Eve was the next one over, a little less gracefully but still without any injury. “Come on, Becca! We don’t have all night, the longer we take the more likely we’ll get caught!” I couldn’t deny the logic of that. Pushing my glasses up my nose, I exhaled slowly, and then hoisted myself over the fence to join my friends. This was it. I was really doing my first real prank. There was no going back.

We crept as quietly as possible with our bag full of paint, wincing at the occasional dull clunk, until we were just outside of the large barn. Quickly, Eve moved to the door and heaved it open enough for us to slip through. She’d always been the biggest of us, sort of the brawn of our trio to my brains and Terra’s beauty. She grinned excitedly as we all entered, and she pulled the door shut behind us.

The bags landed on the ground with a clunk, and Terra clapped with delight. “I can’t believe we’re really doing this!” she whispered, before grabbing a can and carrying it toward some of the sad-looking livestock. One of the cows forlornly moo’d at her, blinking slowly as she approached. “God, look at them. So bloated and gross. Only good for pushing out babies and making milk. Could you imagine having to live as one of them?”

I forced a chuckle, trying not to seem as nervous as I was as I began to look around. “Personally, I think chickens are worse.” I said, only half paying attention as I saw a stall that didn’t have any animals in it and went to investigate. It was right by the front, it’s odd that she’d just keep it completely empty. Maybe supplies? “All they do is lay eggs. Even if it’s not as painful as, like, birth, I can’t imagine how awful it would be. And their cloacas are so gross.”

I drew closer, pulled the stall door open. There was a desk littered with papers, words and pictures jumbled all over. “Pigs.” Terra smirked, grabbing a can of her own. “Nasty, smelly, stupid little hooves. Not strong, not fast, not good looking. The worst of every world, seriously. The only way Pigs aren’t average are all the ways they suck extra hard.”

This was weird. Most of this stuff wasn’t in english, in fact it seemed to be a lot of runes and such. This didn’t make any sense. There was a splash and a distressed bellow from a cow, followed by another gush of liquid and upset squealing from the porcine victims. The paint can for me was left unused as I continued to try to understand what I was looking at. Circles and pentagrams, ingredient lists, strange steps to lengthy rituals. Things labeled “Grant Fertility” and “Animate Plant”. Hand signs, chants…

I stepped back, eyes darting around, my spine tingling with sudden fear. “Uh… girls? I think… something is wrong here.” I turned, walked out of the stall, turning toward my friends. “This isn’t normal. All this stuff… it’s like she’s some kind of sorceress, or enchantress, or…”

“Witch, actually, is what I prefer. Thank you very much.”

I spun around as my friends jumped. There, in front of the door, it hadn’t even moved. She was hunched over, elderly, grinning wide. She made a hand sign, whispered a phrase in a language I didn’t understand, and then… darkness.

) —-------

Everything felt wrong.

My skin was tingling as my eyes slowly opened. I whimpered at the discomfort as I rolled over, finding myself in a large bare patch of the field, nothing but dirt under me. Well… dirt and symbols, coating the ground in a strange dark substance around me. They ended at a wide circle, surrounding me but giving me room to be laid on the ground without touching the edges. To either side of me, making their own pained moans of waking, were Terra and Eve, contained in their own strange circles.

I opened my mouth to answer, but all that came out was a moan as I held my middle. Something was happening, a pressure building inside me. I whimpered, panting, my body feeling overheated as, under my palm, I felt my pubic mound growing firm. Starting to round ever so subtly, barely pressing out before it went away.

Judging from the confused sounds and whimpers of discomfort from nearby, my friends had just gone through similar growth spurts of their own. This didn’t make any sense… my mind was putting pieces together but I refused them, wouldn’t let myself accept what I’d just felt.

“Ah, you’ve woken up. Good, good. I always enjoy it when they’re awake for the good bits.” The tone was filled with malicious mirth, the voice creaky and cold. Looking up, I saw her. The… the witch. God, this was real, wasn’t it? She really was a witch. Could she have done something to us?

“I noticed you seem to have been curious about my livestock. My spells were all shuffled around, thought I wouldn’t notice, did you? I won’t bother asking who you are or who sent you. I’m sure you’ll deny it, lying and insisting you don’t know what I’m talking about. ‘We’re just from the town, we were just exploring, please let us go home!’ Oh yes, I’ve heard it all before. And that suits me just fine, if I’m being honest. You see, I can show you everything you could want to know!”

I opened my mouth to protest, to tell her she had it all wrong. Instead, I grunted, gasping as sweat beaded on my forehead. Once more, the skin of my palm pulled away from the center, and I whimpered as my middle started to push forward, slowly, subtly, once more. “What’s happening to me?!” Terra begged, voice watery with panic.

The witch cackled, eyes gleaming in delight. “Oh darling, you’re to be congratulated! You see, you’re expecting, all three of you! Buns in the oven, such a magical experience!” Eve grunted, gritting her teeth, before saying “I can’t be pregnant. Never had sex. Oh god!” Her rebuttal was stopped by another growth spurt from inside, my own burden seeming to react. My skirt was too tight, digging into my expanding midriff, the pressure of unwanted life developing rapidly within only getting worse.

“We can’t be pregnant… I can’t have a baby!” Terra sobbed, panic taking hold. It was impossible, yet… my chest was aching. My hips were sore. I definitely FELT pregnant. I could only assume, as I looked down at the belly slowly peeking out from under my shirt, and seeing how far along my friends were, that I looked pretty pregnant too. “You really can, dear.” the crone smirked, delighting in our distress. “Just a bit of magic to help your body along, and these little ones took root just fine. You’ll be in labor within the hour, if even that. Can you believe it, girls? You’re going to give birth soon. Oh, I wonder how you’ll scream and cry, especially considering the little surprise that’s going to come with it…”

Heat coursed through me. The growth came in surges. All I could do was try to endure, painting and whimpering in discomfort as I rapidly gestated a child I was nowhere mentally prepared for. I was going to have a baby… Did this make me a mom? Did this count as rape? Nothing made sense. This couldn’t be real, it couldn’t.

My friends endured their own conditions much less quietly than me. Terra was melting down, trying to burst out of her circle, only to find an invisible barrier there. She slammed her fists against it, begging to be let out, even as she hunched forward, groaning as another spurt took her, the moans seeming to slowly get lower, deeper. Eve, meanwhile, kept grunting, the sudden surges of gestation apparently painful for her as they got more guttural and rippling. She just knelt, watching her belly swell in helpless horror. She’d told me years ago that she had been terrified at the idea that someone could just… make her pregnant, if they wanted to, if she was unlucky. Now that nightmare was coming true.

I, meanwhile, watched my little bump continue to grow into a fertile swell. Strechmarks began to form near the back, my navel was nudged into an outie. The others whimpered and gasped, talking about sudden kicks from inside, but I didn’t feel anything. Just ever more pressure. Maybe it was because my belly seemed to be growing slower than the other two? Poor Terra seemed huge, barely able to move as her feccund orb just wouldn’t stop growing, and Eve was noticeably larger than me as well.

“Wonderful. It’s almost time. You are quite the lovely group of mother-to-be’s. You should be proud of yourselves, you’re about to have your very first babies. Isn’t that wonderful?” The witch couldn’t hide the cruel glee in her voice, seeing how her words only upset us further. It’s not like we could do anything about it. We were trapped, as much by our own unwanted fertility as her magic. This was happening, and there was nothing we could do to stop it.

Another surge took me, different than the others. My eyes went wide as my womb squeezed, contracting. The pressure spiked horribly, and then released. To my shame, fluid ran out of me, soaking my panties. My first contraction… my waters… I knew what that meant. It was time. I was going to give birth for this horrid woman, no matter how much I hated it.

“Oh God no, no no, I can’t, I can’t do this!” Terra cried, the crotch of her jeans dark and a damp patch of dirt under her. “Please no… I don’t want a baby, please don’t make me have a baby!” Eve in turn whispered, the terror of her impotence, the delivery inevitable washing over her. I wanted to comfort her. To tell her it was going to be ok.

The contraction took me as I opened my mouth to speak, and all that came out was a cry of agony, the need to push slamming through my mind, washing almost everything else away. Just the need to bear down, and… the feeling of wrongness on my skin. No… not on it. In it. And as I parted my legs, leaning back on my hands, feet curled under me as I bore down… I felt something else coming out. Something that was even worse than this burden I’d been forced to carry.

I could feel that this labor, my giving in and pushing, was giving it power. Making it even worse. But I couldn’t resist, couldn’t stop. Whatever this twisted essence was doing to me, it was just as inevitable now as me giving birth for the witch. “Hmmm, here it comes… oh, I wonder who will realize first…” The cruel magician smirked, delighting in our pain and violation.

Something slipped down. Moving inside me. Firm, smaller than I feared, but larger than I could believe. I gave in, pushing with the pain. I was in labor, and every fiber of my being just needed whatever life I had been growing inside me to get out, as fast as possible. Yet, as I pushed… Something else came. My fingers hurt, throbbing, burning, along with my toes. I fell forward, onto my hands and knees.

Tears blurred my vision, but I still saw it. As I pushed, my fingers twitched of their own accord. Pushing together. Pressing into one another unnaturally hard the more I felt whatever was inside me inching down, toward my damp opening. Then, before my eyes… on my right hand. My middle and index fingers. They just… melded. It hurt so much. The flesh searing, feeling like my hand was melting. The skin glistened with sweat, and yet it was impossible to unsee. There were four fingers on my right hand now.

Another contraction came. I screamed with effort, shaking my head in denial, panic rising in my throat as those four fingers painfully became three. MY feet burned, throbbed inside their shoes and socks, and I could feel the bubbling, popping agony of my left foot losing a toe to whatever was happening to me.

“My nails! God it hurts!” Terra moaned from next to me. Looking over, I saw something similar, but different was happening to her. Her fingernails had turned a deep black, and seemed to have thickened. Even as I watched, another contraction came, and as she pushed it seemed that the dark mass almost seemed to be… expanding. Pushing back into her fingers, further than normal.

Eve let out a squeal of horror. “My back! It’s so bad! Make it stop!” I turned, and saw the poor girl’s jeans starting to bulge. Something else was coming, the strain was too high to be her vagina, the magically created baby starting to crown against her will. No, this was somehow more distressing, something impossible. “It’s pushing! This can’t be happening!”

I felt the need to give birth crash over me once more, resisting it for even a second impossible. I pushed, giving my all to getting this thing out of me, and to my horror my right hand screamed in pain as the rest of my fingers melded, nails clacking to the ground, a formless lump of flesh on the end of my arm. My left foot throbbed, my ankle screaming as it felt like the bone had somehow broken, pressing at the skin from inside, threatening to tear out.

There were mere moments to catch my breath, and then I lost myself to the pain and urgency once more. I watched my mutated hand widen, flatten… my elbow starting to ache… the skin itching, burning, until… Something sprouted. Tiny little wisps pushed out of the skin, growing and unfurling into…

“Feathers!” the witch crowed in delight. “Oh my, can you put together the pieces now? You seem like the smartest of the bunch!” I shook my head, not because I couldn’t figure it out. It was all too obvious. No, I shook my head in denial of the horrifying reality. Not wanting to believe this. Not wanting this to be my inescapable fate. I felt a scream bubbling up my throat. It was so big, so much… I couldn’t hold it back, even though I felt like I had to.

The next squeezing cramp it. I threw my head back, pushed with all my might as I felt my vagina bulge, pressing into my soaking wet panties, my firstborn just behind my lips. I had to let it out. I had to let it happen. I opened my mouth to scream.

“Buh-GAWK!”

A shudder ran through my body. That sound… I had just broken some kind of seal. Given into something I had needed to fight. I had just made this inescapable, I could feel it. There was nothing I could do now, and deep down I knew it was my fault.

By leting that bestial sound free, I knew I had made it so I would live the rest of my life as a chicken.

There would be no cure now. No fixing it. No going back. Ever. It was coming out of me, taking over my body, my life, and I would be trapped forever. I let out a choked sob, feeling what I now knew, beyond any doubt, to be an egg, a chicken egg, pressing into my underwear. The first of many.

My vagina burned as I began to crown. Feathers ran down my transformed arm, pushing painfully out of the skin, my bones cracking painfully as they hollowed, began to bend and twist into new shapes. Becoming a wing. A chicken’s wing.

Terra screamed. She held her hands in front of her face, horrified. Her nails. They had grown more, overcoming her fingertips, eating back into her hands. Her fingers had seemingly begun fusing together, and I could hear the crunches and pops of her bones beaking, being crushed and absorbed by this mass.

“No…” the blonde girl panted, placing her hands on the ground. “Noooo…” she groaned, seemingly bearing down with her next contractions. “N-n-noooooo, please…” she managed, as her feet bust out of her shoes, a mangled dark mass of her former toes being warped into their new, permanent shape. “M… M… MOOOOOO!!!”

I saw the soon-to-be cow’s eyes go wide. She knew now, just as I did. That she was about to give birth to an ugly calf. That her body was about to agonizingly mutate into a cow. That she would never escape this life. The one she had mocked before, said sounded like the worst possible thing.

Likewise, grunting and squealing came from Eve. Her curly tail ripped through her pants. Her hands crunched and snapped as they turned into delicate trotters. Her voice began to change as, slowly, her nose began to curl up, nostrils widening, skull starting to elongate.

My own shoes began to bulge, and on the next contraction, they split. A blood-covered toe extended from my mangled ankle, while only three remained on the front. I couldn’t stop pushing, but to my relief, the first egg slipped out of me, bulging into my panties. I felt it slide down, over my sensitive vagina, nudging my clit as I shuddered. I’d just laid an egg. This was my baby. I felt so wrong, so violated, even as my other hand began to meld together.

Another animalistic bellow from Terra drew my attention, and with a smirk the witch twitched a finger, the poor girl’s shirt tearing away. Her breasts were exposed, and it was easy to see they were sinking lower as another pair began to bulge into existence just above her waistband. “That’s right… You’re growing an udder… and a tail… You’re going to be an ugly cow. I do so love ruining the pretty ones…” the vile farmer grinned, loving the misery she’d caused.

The new breasts fused with the old ones as they reached her groin, engorging into a grotesque pink sack, bulging with milk. “Good girls… mmm,none of you need these silly things, do you?” With a wave of her hand, the witch banished our clothing, leaving our warped, twisting bodies utterly vulnerable. “Just let the changes take you… push out your babies so you can join the others in the barn, I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you…”

I wanted to curse her. I wanted to tell her to go to hell. Instead, another shrill “BAWWWK!” escaped as I threw my head back once more, feeling, to my horror, as my girlhood began to move. It pulled back, further and further, directly between my legs, then further still. It burned, throbbed, as I felt it beginning to merge with my rear. The muscle and skin searing as the two openings became one humiliating, disgusting hole.

I could barely pay attention to the others, as my next egg slid out of me and plopped softly onto the ground, my legs starting to turn scaly and crunch their way up into my abdomen. I saw Terra’s increasingly thick, leathery vagina bulging, little hooves starting to peek out from inside her. I saw Eve’s face extend into the snout of a pig, her ears growing floppy even as mine vanished into my skull.

My eyes became small and beady as Terra’s became large and sad. My teeth itched, and I screamed in horror as they fused, a beak bulging out from the inside of my mouth as my nose fused into the rest of my face, glasses falling into the first alongside the eggs that had been sliding out of my foul, sore opening. One piglet slid from inside my porcine friend, tears running down her face as it nuzzled up to her and latched even as its unwanted sibling began to crown.

With a desperate bellow, the now fully cow felt her first calf slide unceremoniously out of her and onto the ground, head hanging low in shame as it came and suckled at her humiliating udder. The others were done as I shrank, my fleshy comb bubbling up from the feathers… I couldn’t stop, the eggs just kept coming. I couldn’t stop pushing, delivering, each one hurting just as much as the first.

This was going to be my life now. All our lives.

#transformation #tf #egg laying #girl to cow #girl to chicken #girl to pig

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uramilf · 11 months

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hi! I love your writing sm. can I req this it's based on a tiktok I saw and thought it'd be cute. so basically y/n singing taylor's new song you're losing me esp the bridge! and matty is concerned like "we're okay right? you've been singing that song with much passion" or something like that! I just really thought it would be cute thank u so much

Ok I decided to turn this one into a proper imagine where the reader is a popular solo artist who misses her rockstar boyfriend and literally sat up until 3am working on it because i loved the idea so fucking much, thank you anon <3

Warnings: Angst and sadness but happy ending I promise

You're Losing Me

Y/n Y/l/n was sitting alone in her dressing room cross legged on a battered sofa. She had just received a message from her friend George to inform her that The 1975 had performed their last show of their tour and were flying back to London the very next morning. He also dropped in that Matty was excited to see her again and couldn't wait to get home. She hadn't bothered to respond. Why couldn't Matty have told her that himself? Her heart sank on remembering that although Matty was finishing his tour, she was just beginning hers. She would spend one night with him in their shared house before flying to the USA and wouldn't return for several weeks. Y/n felt empty, as she had since Matty left. She looked up to realise that she wasn't alone at all; in fact the dressing room was full of people refilling her water bottles, fixing the order of her costumes for quick changes, ensuring the setlist was right. But still, the crushing loneliness got to her. She doubted that it would be remedied in twenty minutes when the crowd of 15,000 people were screaming her name. She was right.

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Exactly 24 hours later, Y/n lay in her boyfriend's arms, thrilled to have him home but heart not feeling any lighter. She could feel them pulling apart from each other, the demanding schedules their careers presented them with tearing apart the best relationship either of them had ever been in. Even as Matty stroked her hair and pressed soft kisses to her forehead, she was fighting to keep a smile on her face. She wanted to burst into tears and tell him she needed him. She needed to be with him all the time, not just sometimes. She needed to fall into his arms the second she came offstage. She needed to feel as though their relationship wasn't a liability. When Y/n left Matty in bed to use the bathroom, he started to scroll Twitter and look for videos of his girl's first show of her tour. He came across one that already had thousands upon thousands of views. It was captioned "Y/n Y/l/n cover Taylor Swift's "You're Losing Me" at her London show last night". He clicked and started watching. His girlfriend sounded angelic as usual, but he didn't feel like he was watching a video of her usual happy, performance-loving self. The girl on his screen was breaking from the inside out. The passion she was singing with was gave her the image of someone who undeniably related to what she was singing. She wasn't just covering a popular song. He could tell she meant it. He listened closely to the lyrics; "And I wouldn't marry me either, a pathological people pleaser", "Do something babe, say something." Matty's heart was in his throat as he realised that there was a reason she had chosen the song. Did she think he didn't love her anymore? Had she been hoping for the next step in their relationship? Was he really losing her?

Y/n re-entered the room to see Matty, phone in hand, with a tear slipping down his cheek. "What's wrong, baby? Aren't you happy to be home?" "Are we ok, Y/n?" Matty whispered. "What? Of course we are. What's brought this on, love?" "The song. Last night. I know you didn't write it but you just sang it with so much passion, I couldn't help but feel like there's something you're not telling me." Y/n looked at his phone and was overcome with guilt. He understood that she had been singing to him. She took Matty's face in her hands and swiped away a tear gently with her thumb. "I'm sorry, Matty. But I just felt like I related to the song so much. I couldn't help but feel like we drifted apart while you were on tour. We were barely speaking by the last few weeks of it. I just needed you here, and honestly I did feel like you were losing me." Matty's sobs didn't stop. "Are you saying you want to break up with me because I'm away too much?" "No! Of course not baby, I couldn't imagine breaking up with you for the world. You are all I want in life. I promise. But I just don't know how to do this long distance thing anymore. I need us to be together." "Y/n, darling, I know. I'm dreading tomorrow. In all honestly, I understand why you sang the song. I was drifting away from you. I just couldn't bear to talk to you over the phone. I couldn't even answer a text from you without crying about how much I missed you."

Y/n was crying now too, feeling terrible that she hadn't seen how miserable Matty had been on tour. She stroked his hair as he buried his head in her chest. "It's ok baby, we're gonna be ok." Matty lifted his head to kiss away her tears. "Listen, darling. I'm going to speak to the boys and let them know that I'm not gonna be in the studio for a while. Give me a few days to recover from tour and then I'm gonna fly out and meet you. We'll only be away from each other for another week tops." Y/n tackled him into a hug. "You're really coming on tour with me?" "Yes, darling, really. I'm sorry I even considered going back to the studio instead of coming with you. I've just felt so pressured into releasing new music recently. But everyone else can just wait for me and my girl."

Y/n and Matty lay in each other's embrace once more, and as she was drifting off to sleep, she heard him whisper, "I promise I'll never let you feel like you're losing me again."

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A/N: Soz guys that got way deeper than I wanted it to. Got carried away ig but oh well

#the 1975 #matty healy #matty #matty healy x reader #matty healy imagine #matty healy angst #adam hann #george daniel #ross macdonald

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groovesnjams · 4 months

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youtube

2 / 50

"Not Strong Enough" by boygenius

MG:

Writing about boygenius, at this point, feels impossible. I have an urge to defend them, to shout down some anonymous but not entirely imagined comment section* (it felt like everywhere I turned on the internet just fucking hated this group and it always always always boiled down to some projected misogyny) and a world that just couldn’t…quite…admit this was the greatest song of the year. Even in the places where boygenius unequivocally ruled there was this little whiff of embarrassment like they’re great but, ok, not that great. Well, they are that great! They don’t have to do something wholly original or reflect everyone’s personal identity back to them to be great!

But we don’t need more of that, it’s a stupid feedback loop, I have to be the change I want to see in the world and that change is to write about this song without defending it! To do that, however, would not be entirely honest because, to be entirely honest, I was very much that person I outlined above for most of the year. I put “A&W” at the top of my dopey playlist and felt very vibey about it and even had a period where I got into Father John Misty a little bit because that made sense. And then when it got closer to calling it, as I was listening through that playlist a whole bunch to make cuts and remember things I’d forgotten, I listened to “Not Strong Enough” for the first time on headphones and it fucking ripped. It ripped my brain right open! This song is gorgeously produced, full of rich instrumentation that colors neatly in-between the wavy lines of the storytelling. It’s the kind of thing I want to choreograph a dance to, I want it to soundtrack a movie about an aimless, broken person who surrenders to life’s enduring beauty and awakens to their own possibility, I want to watch a music video where boygenius play in a barn with vaulted ceilings. Every detail of this song feels so specific and fully realized that I can’t help but play along. It speaks to some half-remembered, half-imagined past but it’s also coming to, in the front seat, still happening, still going somewhere.

I get it, what I said about Chappell Roan, about being unlikable and thus lovable, applies here, too. I can’t make you like this song, it is unlikable and it got better every time I heard it (a lot, it was blessed and highly favored by Sirius XMU, who chose to make Mitski’s TikTok hit “My Love, Mine All Mine” their song of the year) and I love “Not Strong Enough.” It is my favorite song of the year.

*(To my complete and total amusement, shortly after I finished my first draft of this post, the comment section I was thinking of voted "Not Strong Enough" their song of the year. I'm not sure if there's a significant disconnect between commenting members and voting members or if I'm a woman of the people, charting the course of lukewarm acceptance to full on wholehearted embrace of this song. But, either way, good for all of us!)

DV:

Wow it's really tough to talk about "Not Strong Enough" without talking about boygenius and parasociality and fandom in 2023, huh? This may also be true of a lot of this year's list, but with the rest of the lot it's relatively easy to find other angles into the song. With boygenius the angles all lead back to the band, their dynamic, their process, their relationships. It's a little gauche isn't it? I don't feel like boygenius meant for the story of their 2023 to be about themselves but here they are at the end of the year where they went viral for Halloween costumes and they're winning gendered awards like Ron Swanson from Parks & Recreation, and we just have to hope things age better in reality than in fiction. But also, boygenius made "Not Strong Enough", which some days felt like it might actually be my favorite song of the year (a distinction shared by many others on this list, but one this song got more than most.) It's a song built out of climaxes, rolling and building, with hooks to spare and a secret weapon in the drummer, whose name is weirdly difficult to find but whose fills do more to make the song than even the jangliest guitar. So on one hand, I know more about this band's lore than I do about any other artist who I can't name a second song by. But on the other: "Not Strong Enough" is straightforwardly a gorgeous, propulsive power pop banger, delivered beautifully. When you have a Lucy Dacus and can hold her in reserve for a climax like this one, taking fully a minute and a half but never losing momentum, you're simply operating at a level that few other artists are capable of.

#gnjsoty2k23 #boygenius #not strong enough #music #phoebe bridgers #julien baker #lucy dacus

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densi-mber · 5 months

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Rushing Home with their Treasures

“Ooh, what about this?” Deeks asked, holding up a tiny green and red elf costume.

“I don’t know,” Kensi said, rubbing the fabric between her fingers. “It’s cute, but also kind of ugly.” She rested her hand over her stomach, absentmindedly rubbing a few times. “Those dresses are really cute, though,” she added.

Deeks followed her gaze to the smallest imaginable velvet dress with a poofy skirt.

“That is adorable,” he agreed. “We could get it.”

“But then we’re going to end up with three possible sets of everything to cover all the possible girl/boy scenarios. Besides, we’re supposed to be getting gifts for family and friends, not the twins.”

They’d taken advantage of a afternoon when neither of them had any appointments or work to knock out some of their holiday shopping. The giant display of baby paraphernalia had sent them on a half hour detour.

“Ok, where do you want to head first?”

“Well, I thought since Rosa’s gift is probably going to be at least partially custom-made, we should probably get that taken care of before it gets too busy,” Kensi suggested.

“Sounds like a plan.” He saw Kensi give the baby clothes another look before finally turning in the direction of the jewelry department.

“How can I help you today?” the assistant at the jewelry counter asked as they approached. “We have some lovely pieces on sale today and all earrings in this display are 50% off.”

“Thank you, but we’re actually looking for a pendant for our daughter,” Deeks explained. “This is what we had in mind.”

An hour later, they walked away from the counter with pamphlets, paperwork, and the promise of their personally designed necklace in a week’s time. In the end, they’d settled on a design a series of interlocking hearts that incorporated each of their birthstones, with space to include the twins’ once they were born.

To some, it might sound slightly cheesy, but Rosa valued anything that linked her to her found family. From the pictures spaced throughout the house, to Deeks and Kensi’s names on her school forms. The necklace just happened to be a very purposeful and more extravagant addition.

“I think she’s going to love it,” Kensi said, examining the example pictures they’d been given. They strolled past a couple food vendors on their way out and she inhaled deeply, closing her eyes. “Mm, cinnamon rolls.”

She gave Deeks a sly look, and he chuckled, veering off towards the Cinnabon. “C’mon, we can’t let you and the Pastry Babies starve. Especially when there’s literal pastry to be had.”

Kensi looped her arm through his, leaning her head on his shoulder. “I love you.”

“So, where to next?” Deeks asked once they both had cinnamon rolls the size of his head in hand.

Peeling off a strip of glaze-covered dough, Kensi slowly at it while she considered his question. “That boutique Anna likes is across the mall, we’re getting Rountree and Fatima’s gifts at the Christmas market, so maybe your mom’s?”

“Sure. Though we are definitely not getting items 2, 3, or 7 from her wish list.”

“Oh, you mean the lingerie, dirty truth or dare game, and aphrodisiac gift basket?” Kensi said, licking icing off her finger. “Yeah, I’m thinking we need to pass those on to Arkady.”

“Ew,” Deeks commented, giving a full-body shudder. “Ok, you want to meet up in the accessories? I’m gonna grab some coffee to wash down the sugar and hopefully burn the thought of aphrodisiacs, my mom, and Arkady from my mind.”

Snorting, Kensi leaned in for a kiss. “See you in a few.”

Deeks joined the line for one of the many coffee shops sprinkled around the mall’s main floor. When Kensi was out of sight, he ducked out of line, making a beeline for the baby department. It only took a few minutes to locate the racks of Christmas outfits they’d looked at earlier.

He grabbed the tiny green dress, smiling as he headed for the register.

***

A/N: So much fluff this densimber! And yes, I’m still manifesting twins all day, every day.

#densimber 7.0 #densimber 2023 #densimber day 7 #ncis la fanfiction #ncis la #densi #marty deeks #kensi blye #pregnant kensi #fluff #Christmas shopping #by ejzah

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