#the fact that someone named tanner

[sweatervest-obsessed]

You're Keeping Me Down

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (she/her)

WC: ~5.8k

TW: mentions of trauma, mentions of Maeve, kissing, previous relationships, swearing, alcohol, so much crying, bad decisions, girlbossing

A/N: ayo....angsty teehee. I hope y'all like it! It's a sequel to Dedicated to New Lovers and was inspired mainly by Sara Bareilles's Gravity, some Harry Styles, and other sad songs. I hope y'all enjoy it!! I really do love reading all of your comments, and tags, and feedback because it makes me so happy to know you guys are enjoying the writing!! <3

“You may not control all the events that happen to you, but you can decide not to be reduced by them.” ~Maya Angelou

Something always brought you back to Doctor Spencer Reid. No matter how hard you tried, no matter how much you fought it, something about the universe could not keep you away from him for too long. 

It was like the two of you were attached at opposite ends of a string, always pulling you towards one another, ignoring whatever you had been feeling beforehand. 

There was nothing you could do to escape him. You had tried traversing the globe, studying in Greece and Turkey, or taking vacations in the most remote villages of China; you had even done a two-week expedition traveling to Antarctica. But somehow, some way, Spencer Reid stayed in the back of your mind. 

Sometimes, it was like he was right next to you. You could still feel him next to you in your bed, or if you were alone in your car, your hand was absently reaching toward the passenger seat, only to feel the leather and not his leg. 

Maybe it was because all of those stupid little facts he had spouted to you were resting in the back of your mind, popping up when you’d come across anything he would have told you about. 

It was something you missed. He would just ramble on about anything to you, watching the joy on his face as he continued to speak, so grateful to have an audience, to have someone who cared. But you’d have to remind yourself that Spencer chose her as his audience instead of you. 

Her. 

The guilt of Maeve’s death followed you around more than Spencer did. At first, it was anything to do with therapists. The thought of choosing someone to speak to outside of your circle was a betrayal you had felt, and you couldn’t bring yourself to do the same. Then it was your distrust of your friends, watching as they became less and less frequent in your life. 

Work was all-consuming. You knew this fact well. Being one of the top profilers in the FBI meant that news of your transfer went fast, and the job offers came even quicker. But you decided to take some time off to rediscover the girl you once knew, someone outside her job. 

The BAU was simply your life for the past eight years. You worked at the BAU, you dated inside of the BAU, and your friends were all within the BAU–It was honestly a joke that it all had decided to come crumbling down once you felt secure in your life, in your job, in your relationship. 

You had filed the paperwork that allowed you to take two months of paid leave, not to leave the department. Your social media suddenly became filled with images of Ancient Greek monuments, Italian Vineyards, the French and Swiss Alps, and cities you once only visited in your wildest dreams. 

Escaping reality was the best way to rediscover who you are. And so you tried.

When you returned from your two months, you had walked into the BAU bullpen and straight to Hotch’s office. Your skin was tanner, and your hair was a bit lighter from all of the sun. You were suddenly this confident woman again, but you weren’t who you were before, making you nearly unrecognizable. 

“Y/N, please come in.” 

You smiled warmly at Hotch, giving him a quick hug. 

“You look good. How were your travels?” 

You smiled and leaned against the wall, not wanting to sit since that meant you would be here longer than you wanted. 

“It was everything I needed it to be, Hotch .” You nodded to the file on his desk with your name on it. “I take it Garcia ‘accidentally’ discovered my file and decided to drop it off?” 

Hotch sighed and opened the file, looking over at you. “Of course she did. I thought you were just transferring after your leave; I didn’t know you were leaving the Bureau entirely.” 

You nodded, a sad smile making its way onto your face. 

Hotch looked at you, replicating the same sad smile. 

“I wanted to tell you in person since I didn’t want you to find out via paperwork, but I should have known to come to your office first and then file it instead of filing it on my way to your office.” 

A soft chuckle passed through Hotch’s lips as he nodded. “We’re going to miss you more than before, Y/N.” 

“I won't be gone forever, Hotch. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” 

“I know.” He rounded the desk, giving you a quick hug, arm on your shoulder. “You have my number.” 

You gave him a quick smile, nodding, “Don’t worry, Jack will still be getting weekly updates about my travels, and expect a box of goodies occasionally. I have to uphold my reigning title of the coolest aunt ever.” 

As you left Hotch’s office, you didn’t notice Spencer at the coffee station. You didn’t see as he watched you quickly drop a note off on Emily’s desk and another on Derek’s desk before stepping into the elevator for the last time for the next two years. 

You didn’t notice the heartbreak in his eyes, and you didn’t notice the fact that he had overheard as you told Hotch you weren’t coming back to the FBI at all. 

But somehow, you found yourself back in that same elevator, visitor badge clipped to the new dress you had received as a gift from a friend during your month-long stay in India last year. The fabric draped across your body, highlighting how beautiful your curves were, and the colors brought out this newfound radiance in your skin, your eyes, your smile...

Color was the newest development in your life. The BAU meant that everything was in professional shades of blue, black, white, or maybe a subdued purple or green if you felt risky. But suddenly, your wardrobe burst through the rainbow as you experimented with patterns and shades, basking in this newfound joy beyond the world of suits. 

Eighteen months of experimenting–with life, with colors, with places you called home, with love.

You had two brief “love affairs” as Garcia lovingly called them. One was only two weeks long, but the other was a few months. Yet both were missing something special and could barely converse with you. Maybe that was how Spencer felt. And the sex wasn’t all that great either.  

And yet, after Eighteen months, an award, four nominations, a cat, a mediocre short-term relationship, and one groundbreaking dissertation that led to a Ph.D. later, you found yourself back in that damned elevator. 

You inhaled sharply as you heard the tiny ding, doors opening up to a sight that made your stomach twist. It was truly bittersweet to be back, to visit the place that once carried everything in your life, and to have it be so foreign to you. 

But what was not so foreign was how one Derek Morgan looked up as the door opened and his eyes filled to the brim with light. 

“Well, well, well, look who it is.” He dropped his file on his desk and met you in the middle of the side aisle of the bullpen, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. “My woman.” He muttered into your hair, giving you an extra squeeze before pulling away slightly. 

“What’s up, sexy.” You laughed, thrilled to hear he hadn’t changed too much while you were away. 

“I’m sexy? Have you seen yourself recently?” He laughed, and you gave him a twirl, eager to show off one of your favorite dresses. “And where did you get this? Wait, wait, let me guess.” 

You pursed your lips, failing to hide the smile that was beaming across your face. 

“Was it your time in Taiwan? No no…Pakistan?” 

“So close. India. Maybe next time, champ.” You patted his arm, turning your head at the gasp behind me. 

“Do my eyes deceive me, or is that Doctor Y/N Y/L/N, world traveler extraordinaire?” 

“JJ, you saw me three days ago.” 

JJ pulled you into a hug. “Yeah, over Facetime,” she grumbled, not even trying to pretend she was upset at the sight of you in person. “You seriously have to stop sending Henry so much stuff.” 

“Some of it is for the other one, too.” You muttered to her, knowing she wasn’t fully public with her pregnancy at the BAU just yet. 

“I’ll be right back, I promise, I just have to say hi to Hotch first.” You placed your hands on their arms, turning towards Hotch’s office. As you went to knock on the door, it opened, leaving you face to face with the only person you weren’t ready to confront just yet. 

“Hi.” He breathed out.

And fuck you, he looked so good. 

“Hi, Spencer.” 

You watched as a wave of emotion rippled across his face. His name almost tasted weird in your mouth, not something you’ve often said in the two years apart. 

“I’ll, um..” He moved to step out of the way, letting you maneuver into Hotch’s office. 

But you had also tried to move, causing you and Spencer to almost collide, causing his hand to barely grace your waist. A spark flew through your skin at the thought of his touch, causing goosebumps up and down your body. 

You both muttered an apology, eyes not leaving the other until you quickly moved into Hotch’s office, causing him to move back, still watching as you closed the door in his face.

While you spoke to Hotch, catching up, Spencer was down in the bullpen at his desk, barely even trying to move them away from the windows. 

JJ and Derek stood around his desk, looking from the office to Spencer and back again. 

“She’s back.” He said simply when Kate approached them, wondering why they were all standing around, staring at Hotch’s office. 

“Who?” Kate crossed her arms, looking between the agents, hoping for an answer.

Spencer said your name for the first time in a very long time. And it was almost as if his brain whirred to life, like some part of him had been dormant for a long time. 

“Doctor.” 

Spencer gave Derek a weird look. “What?” 

“It’s Doctor Y/N Y/L/N now, Pretty Boy.” 

Spencer let his mouth fall into a small oh, letting his mind sink deeper and deeper into the pit of you. 

When you had originally left, Spencer decided to try and ignore you. It didn’t work, but he wouldn’t seek you out purposefully. He never looked up your name and tried to steer clear of the conversations involving you. But he wondered why you had never mentioned wanting to get a doctorate beforehand. He would have remembered something like that. He should have remembered something like that. ______________________________________________________________

The thought of Spencer’s fingers on your waist was the only thing you could think about for the rest of the day. Your skin hadn’t stopped tingling, and suddenly you wanted to drown in his touch, let his hands roam over your body and— “Stop it.” You said out loud as you put in your earrings. 

Your mind wasn’t playing far. 

“What did you say, sweetheart?” 

“Nothing, just talking to myself!” You called back, sighing as you smoothed out the front of the dress you had changed into. 

The team had decided to throw you a welcome-back party that night, generously hosted by David Rossi. And since they had all wanted an excuse to get dressed up, you gave them that much, meaning you had to dawn heels and a touch of makeup to accentuate the features you wanted. It also meant you got to pull out another stunning dress you had bought. 

Celebrating your doctorate, which you completed a year early, you had flown to Milan with Emily Prentiss and decided to go shopping, which is how you ended up with the current dress you were wearing. 

It fits you in all the right places, showing off just enough cleavage to be tasteful but maybe tempt something a bit more. You wondered if Spencer would like—

“God, I forgot how hot you look in that dress.” 

“Emily Prentiss, I could kiss you on the mouth.” 

Emily laughed and looped her arm through yours, staring at the two of you in the mirror. 

“Thank you for flying in on such short notice.” You whispered, unable to take your eyes off of the reflection staring back at you.

“We can call the whole thing off right now…”

You shook your head and smiled at her. “It’s for me. And I really want some of Rossi’s cooking right about now. Especially now that I can compare my worldly experiences with the Italian Masterchef himself.” You laughed, causing Emily to laugh with you. 

“Let's get going, yeah?” 

The ride to Rossi’s house on the outskirts of Washington D.C. made for a relaxing drive, filled with updates from your best friend about each other’s lives, even though it had only been a month since you had seen each other last. 

“I think you’re being perfectly reasonable, hun.” 

“You’re saying that because all I do is cry these days,” you grumbled, kissing the head of the black cat in your lap. 

Emily laughed and took a sip of her wine. “Or maybe I just know that you need a change of scenery. You’ve dedicated your entire life to the BAU and now you need to explore the entire rest of the world.” 

“I think you just want to go to Greece with me.” 

“You know how much I love Mamma Mia….”

You cracked a smile and picked up your glass. “Maybe Em, I’m not sure…I just…”

Emily watched as you looked up, trying to keep the tears from your eyes. 

“I know he’s not worth the tears,” you mumbled, but you exhaled slowly. “It’ll just hit me sometimes.” 

She stayed quiet, watching as you slowly worked through whatever was happening in your head. 

“It’s like he’s right next to me sometimes. I…It’s like sometimes my own head is against me for not talking to him. I heard a song the other day, and I immediately turned to tell him something about it and–It’s like he’s ruling over my mind—” You huffed angrily. “I feel like I’m not making any sense–god.” You downed your wine and placed the glass on the table. “Maybe I’m just meant to wallow and drink wine and be completely useless for the rest of my life…past my prime, past my worth. I was so—I was so fucking sure he was the one…Like there's this strong attachment to my chest and I’m connected to him for eternity, regardless of whether he loves me or not.” 

Emily pulled you into her arms while you cried, rubbing your back. 

“You are so much more than him, hun. You will go out in the world, figure out who you are again, and stand so tall, just how you’re supposed to.”

“So tall.” Emily looked at you as she parked the car in Rossi’s driveway. 

“Just the way I’m supposed to be.” You whispered, looking over at her, smiling.  ______________________________________________________________

You’ve been to Rossi’s more times than you could ever admit, but it managed to take your breath away every single time. After his first wife had passed away, he had put in a garden near the edge of his backyard, providing beautiful color for you to look at from the porch. 

Somehow, you always had a half-full glass, managing to have someone always get you a new drink when you seemed low. 

You managed to talk to Jack and Henry, telling them all about the wonders of the world you had seen, then being pulled away by Garcia to discuss that brief love affair you had in Argentina, which then led to telling Derek about your time in England, studying for your doctorate. 

Gratefully, you excused yourself when Rossi announced that dinner had been served, leading you to the tables set up in the backyard, filled to the brim with all your favorite foods. He had simply done too much. 

Dinner was filled with smiles, laughs, and chatter about the ‘good ol days’ and the newer memories being made. You had become acquainted with Kate Callahan, Emily’s replacement. She seemed nice enough, but you both were hesitant of one another. 

Spencer was sitting across the table from you. The two of you would catch glances at one another, passing moments where you couldn’t help but notice the way the wind ruffled his hair or the way the garden’s fairy lights reflected in his eyes. 

“So, what brings you back to Washington,” Hotch asks you the question every person at the table has been dying to hear the answer to. 

“Oh! Well…” You blushed slightly and shrugged. “It’s not that big of a deal, but I was just offered a position at Georgetown as an adjunct professor. If I take it, I’ll teach classes for at least the next semester. That is if I like it more than King’s College in London..”

The table erupted into congratulations, ending with a toast from Rossi.

You all raised your glass in “Salut”, and took a sip from your drink, but you couldn't help but look at Spencer, who was already looking at you. 

Excusing yourself from the table, you went inside quickly, walking towards the kitchen sink. You ran your hands under the cool water before splashing it across your face. 

“Y/n…”

There it was. The moment you had been dreading. The two of you were alone, no one else to buffer you, no one else to take your arm and drag you to the dance floor. 

“Spencer.” You turned around, your body leaning against the sink. God, you felt so small, so unable to watch yourself. 

“That’s a–that’s a beautiful dress.” 

“Milan.” You mused, fiddling with the ring on your pinky finger, unable to look away from the man before you. 

“Ah.” 

The silence hurt. Watching the two of you must have been painful because you could feel it. You once told this man everything about yourself; he once knew how your day went by one singular sigh. He could have told you what you were in the mood to eat for breakfast just by how you woke up. 

But now, you didn’t even know what to say. 

“Georgetown.” 

You nodded and looked down at your nails, seeming that they felt like a safer bet to look at. “Yeah, uh…should be fun. Can I–” You looked up at him. “Can I ask you something?” 

Spencer’s head nodded, and you pursed your lips, looking out the window and watching as your friends and family all laughed together and ate together. 

“When I was…um.” You cleared your throat, willing away the tears that had instantly sprung to your eyes. “When I was packing up all my stuff two years ago…I found the…W-Was it for her or…” You braced yourself for impact. Waiting for him to respond. 

Spencer’s eyes glassed over, and his mouth formed a small oh. He fiddled with his ring finger and looked out past you through the window. He couldn’t bear to watch the travesty he was about to cause. 

“You.” 

“Oh.” Fuck this. Fuck. You had sobbed over finding it for three hours while packing and then  sobbed again as you moved out. Somehow, hearing it out loud was worse. 

He was going to propose to you.

Spencer Reid had wanted to marry you. And god, that hurt. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, and then he told you that he wasn’t in love with you anymore. 

You didn’t care if you were reserving a spot in hell for yourself by damning an already dead woman. Her death meant Spencer could feel an ounce of the grief you just dug up. A sliver of the pain. 

Suddenly, you felt his hand on your jaw, a thumb on your cheek, wiping away the tear that had escaped your eye. “I am so sorry.” He whispered. 

And that broke the damn. 

He pulled you into his arms, and you let him, surrounding yourself with Spencer. Letting the smell of his cologne wash over you, letting him squeeze you tightly like he used to so long ago. The feeling of his chest rising and falling gave you such comfort that your brain was screaming at you to run away from it. You had finally built all your walls back up; you felt as if you could finally exist, but here in his arms, the world was silent. 

In his arms, you felt fragile; you felt so small. All of the strength you had was gone. And it felt so fucking good to not have to be the strong one, the person with the brave face. 

“I’m so sorry.” 

His lips kissed your hair, arm running up and down your back, trying so desperately to bring back that sense of comfort he once could provide you. And it was fucking working. God, why was it working. Why did it feel good? Why couldn’t you pull away? 

“Spence…” You mumbled into his shirt, that had been stained by your tears. You shook your head. “I can’t…We can’t…”

He pulled away from you slightly, eyes saddened, and you couldn’t tell if it was because you were rejecting him or because he still loved you just as much as you loved him. 

“I love you.” 

You pulled away from the kiss, hand on his chest, smiling brightly at him. “What?”

It was the most beautiful you had ever looked, Spencer decided. 

Your lips were puffy from how much the two of you were kissing, hair messy from his hands running through it, eyes wide with just as much love repeated in his own. 

“I love you.” He repeated, smiling beyond measure.

“Say it again.” You mumbled, yanking him back down to your lips, kissing him again and again. 

“I love you so much, y/n y/l/n.” 

You pulled away, laughter filling up the entire room. Pure joy echoed and bounced off of the walls. 

Spencer bit his lip, pulling away slightly. You hadn’t set it back. 

“Spence…” You cupped both cheeks with your hand, thumb rubbing over his bottom lip. “I love you too.” 

Just saying it caused you to giggle, full of love and pure joy. 

Loving anyone else would have caused you to gag–it still does. 

But the memory makes you shudder, causing you to step out of his arms, quickly wiping away your tears or trying your best to. 

The thought of love made you want to rip your head off. It made you want to sink to the bottom of the ocean and never resurface. 

Spencer said your name, making you shake your head. 

“You don’t love me Spencer. You haven’t for a long time.” The admission caused a resurgence of tears, making him take a step towards you. “No, Spencer, no.” 

You shook your head again. “I-I can’t…you hurt me. You…you left me for someone you had never even met. She was–god.” 

“I never loved her the way I love you.” 

“No.” You whispered, chest heaving. “No, no. You can’t..fuck. Don’t say that shit–why would you say that shit to me.” 

“Because it's the truth.” He said softly, too calmly for you to just ignore it. 

“How can you stand there and say that to me? You don’t mean it—You can’t..” The past two year’s worth of therapy, of moving on, of becoming your own, came crumbling down because fuck, you didn’t know what to believe anymore. “How can you just…You don’t fucking mean it.” 

“I know you don’t believe me, but I–”

“Don’t believe you?” You laughed at that, tears mixing with the stabs in your chest, dropping past your mouth as it laughed and laughed and laughed. “Then why did you fucking leave me. Why–Why–Why did you tell me to move out and…God Spencer, why did you come here tonight.” 

You were almost hysterical at that point; all Spencer could do was watch. He couldn't touch you because every time he tried, you’d move away or lose some part of your mind even more. 

“What about me was so–so–so, so boring, so understimulating to you, so desperately ignorant that you told me you didn’t love me anymore, that you kicked me out of our home, that made you reconsider wanting to marry me. And you know, I get it, I do. You found someone on your level intellectually, I get it. But still, I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life–what did she have that I didn’t, huh? What about her made her more appealing to talk to than me? ” 

“She…”

“She what, Spencer.”

“I wasn’t–”

“No.” You were leaning back against the counter, trying to gain some semblance of yourself back from the spiral you were on. “Don’t lie to me. Don’t give me some ‘unworthy’ thought process because maybe you’re fucking eidetic memory doesn’t remember all of the conversations we used to have, but I fucking do. I couldn’t cut them out of my skin if I tried, and god did I try.” 

Spencer stared at you, dumbfounded. He didn’t know what to do; he couldn’t function. All he could do was watch the pieces of you shatter all over, reliving the exact moments you were, but instead of being able to make it right, all he could watch as you closed yourself off more and more. 

“Y-you tried?” 

“God, Spencer, did you even look at me during those months.” 

“I…” He just looked at you, really looked at you. “I couldn’t.”

You scoffed, wiping away the tears on your cheeks, and straightened out your dress. 

“The only fucking thing I know is that if I don’t walk away now, then I will hate myself for the rest of my life for letting you talk me back into loving you again. And the worst part is, I still do. I don’t think I could ever love anyone again because of how much love I have for you, after everything we had been through, but—”

He kissed you.

Or you kissed him. 

You weren’t sure. 

But all you knew was that his hands were on your waist, and your hands were on his cheeks, and his lips were touching yours, and everything felt so right within the world, and your body was against his and just–

“Fuck.” You quickly pulled away, both of you panting, staring at one another, unsure about what happened. 

You two just stared at one another for what felt like forever until you heard Emily call your name from the porch. You took another step away, back against the kitchen counter, smoothing your hair and crossing your arms. 

Emily walked in and eyed the two of you, misreading the tension as something more antagonistic from before than what had actually happened. 

“Uh, Rossi made you a cake…” She looked between the both of you, watching as you nodded at her, standing up fully. You followed behind her, sparing one last look at Spencer, who was just looking at where you were standing. 

______________________________________________________________

“Uh, hi, sorry, could you point me toward Agent Hotchner’s Office.” 

The person whose shoulder you tapped turned around and gave you one of the most beautiful smiles you had ever seen. 

“Well hello, gorg–”

“Derek. Don’t be rude.” The woman next to Derek had elbowed him in the ribs, preventing more HR training for the both of them. “Hi. You must be Y/n. I’m Penelope, and that’s Derek, don’t mind him.” She looped her arm through yours and started to lead you towards the little staircase on the side of the room. 

“Hotch’s office is right up here.” 

“I–Thank you, Penelope.” You smiled at her. 

“I’ve read your file.” She whispered, smiling back at you. “I’m really excited to work with you because you are one impressive woman, let me tell you.” 

You blushed slightly, about to respond, but Penelope had knocked on Hotch’s door, causing a voice to tell you to “come in.” 

“Welcome to the team.” She pulled away, leaving you to enter Aaron Hotchner’s office for the first of many times. 

You opened the door and smiled at the man at the desk. “Hi, I’m–”

“Y/n Y/l/n, You have a very impressive resume. Please, take a seat.” He stood to shake your hand, gesturing to the chair before his desk. You quickly scanned the photos along the walls, the books on his shelves. 

“Everyone knows who I am before I know who they are.” You laughed slightly, taking the seat. 

“Yes, well, We’re all very excited to have you join us here.” 

The memory of your first day hit you like a wave when Aaron pulled your seat out for you back at the table outside. You stalled for only a second, but it was long enough for any of the various profilers at the table to notice something was off. 

You smiled through the speeches, and you laughed at the jokes and cried at the sweetness of your friends, but you were somewhere far away, dreaming about the moments that led you up to where you were. 

“And that is why I am glad to have you back because clearly, the universe respects you enough to let us all come together to celebrate the return of our Y/n.” You raised your glass and cheer with Rossi, standing up to hug him. 

“Now.” You smiled at all of the faces that looked up at you. “Let us eat cake!!” 

The table erupted and while Rossi cut slices for each of you, you sat back down, listening to what Garcia was telling you, but your eyes kept darting to the person directly across from you. 

You could feel his eyes any time they were on you, and you knew they were fleeting glances, but it was just too much. 

“Want to take a walk with me through the rose garden?” 

You nodded, standing up and accepting Derek’s arm, letting him lead you towards the garden, enjoying the fresh air and the sudden weight off of your shoulders. You couldn’t feel his gaze anymore but you knew he was still looking at you. 

“What’s next on your list of adventures.” Derek looked at you, watching the millions of emotions race across your face before settling on a smile and a shrug. 

“I’m not sure yet. You know about Georgetown, but I don’t know about D.C. anymore….”

Derek nodded and pulled out the chair at the small wire table. It sat under a trellis filled with gorgeously bloomed roses and baby’s breath. The smell was almost overwhelmingly fragrant. 

You gratefully took it and watched as he went and sat across from you. 

“You looked like you got a bit overwhelmed back there.” 

“What happened to not profiling me like I asked?” 

Derek chuckled, “It’s not profiling if it’s written on your sleeve.” 

You sighed and looked out at some of the flowers. “I don't…”

He let you work through it in your mind, just glad to keep you company while you figured your shit out. 

Eventually, you spoke up. “It’s weird.” 

Derek hummed in agreement. 

“I don’t know. Just. I felt like I was doing so well, and I was becoming my own person, figuring out who I was, and then I come back here, and suddenly I’m back to being that twenty-two-year-old kid who breezed her way through the academy. It’s like I did everything in my power to end up where I did, and then the universe told me I fucked up and should have done something else.” 

“I don’t think you fucked up in the slightest. Do you know how many people you saved?”

You went to brush off his comment, but Derek didn’t let you get a word in. 

“I know your entire world got completely fucked over, but you were meant to be in BAU. You were supposed to be there. I cannot think of my life without you, I know Garcia can’t, and I know Emily would tear you a new one if you even brought up to her the possibility that you being in her life was a mistake.” 

“Yeah, and now I’m thirty, with a doctorate and a cat, and no idea what to do with my life.” 

“But you also just spent the last two years seeing the world–how many countries did you go to…”

You pursued your lips, trying to count in your head. A blush spread across your face as you mumbled the number. 

“Sorry, wanna repeat that for me?” 

“At least fifty…” 

“That’s what I thought.” A very proud look crossed Derek's face, smiling at you. 

You looked down at your left hand, fiddling with your ring finger. No matter how hard Derek tried, no matter how much you enjoyed his company and the way he was keeping your ego healthily inflated, you couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that you could have been married–you could have been happy. 

“He told me when he bought it.” 

Your eyes snapped to Derek’s, and he looked at you with such soft eyes. 

That was something you had always loved about Derek. No matter how much he cared for you, no matter how gently he was being, he never treated you like a piece of glass.

“He, uh, I was the only one he told.” 

You nodded, waiting for him to continue. 

“When did you find it?” 

“When I was moving my things out of the apartment.” 

“Damn…” 

“Yeah.” You laughed. It was colder than usual but still antagonistic at the whole situation. “I…um. I found it on the last day when I was cleaning out my bedside table. He knew I never went into the bottom drawer because I literally never kept anything in there, but I checked because, you know, I was asked to leave, and…there it was. It was just…It’s ironic, really, how perfect it was, too. They say that if a guy can’t get the ring right, then he’s not the one for you, but no one preps you on if it’s the perfect ring, perfect size, but you had just broken up two days before you found it…” 

Derek nodded, letting you ramble. 

“I feel like I’m being weighed down by a million different things, yet they’re all him.” 

“What are you going to do about it?”

“I have no fucking idea.” 

"Sometimes good things fall apart, so that better things can fall together." ~ Marilyn Monroe

Part 3

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Tags: @lilrios-world @gubzgirl @mynameisnotokay @hereforfun22-blog @yoursarahg @mega-kittyglitter-1 @onlyspence

#x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader fluff #spence reid x reader angst

[alastrrz]

ive had this idea for a while but idk if you have already done it (if you have please tag me) but like them being lovesick? like they are so in love with you, ive have literally seen ZERO of this. please and thank you!!!

YUP I LOVED WRITING THIS bc i myself get lovesick so EASILY so this came super easy to me

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。 sick for you ; blake, tanner, isaac

　 ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

genre; fluff

type; headcanons

read below!

BLAKE ;

Definitely keeps it to himself, doesn't let anyone else know he's feeling the way he's feeling.

The only one that would know he's feeling lovesick would probably be Isaac. Only because Isaac catches on to the small things really easily.

Isaac catches all Blake's little glances at you, he notices when his face goes red when you're mentioned.

As for how Blake feels when lovesick, he's super confined to his own brain and tries not to hang around you a whole lot, because he's scared he'll reveal himself and how he feels.

When he has to be around you though, he's always red in the face and trying to make small conversation with you.

Whether the conversation is awkward or not, he loves every time he talks to you, because he's getting somewhere.

He likes to buy you little gifts, just because. Y'know, he's in love with you. He takes note of stuff you like, because he wants to show he cares.

When he finally asks you out, or more so whenever Isaac told him to ask you out, and you say yes, he just pulls you in for the tightest hug ever.

TANNER ;

Oh my god he's such a fool when he's lovesick. He's the kind to feel physically sick when he's crushing on someone, because it hits him HARD.

Always feels giddy and happy around you, so he makes it a point to hang out with you when he can.

He's always cracking his best jokes around you to try and make you laugh, because when he hears you laugh it makes him so unbelievably happy.

Definitely the type to leave notes around you and label them as "-ur secret admirer <3" but he alters his handwriting so you don't actually know who it was.

The type to make jokes like "What if.. What if we held hands? Ahaha, only joking!" He is not joking.

He makes it so obvious, but you'd never tell him it was obvious, it'd break his heart.

After about a year of these shenanigans, he finally builds up the courage to ask you out. When you say yes, he has to stop himself from just jumping on you and kissing you.

ISAAC ;

He's subtle, but he's also not.. not subtle.

He likes to crack jokes like Tanner, "Hey, Y/n, how funny would it be if we dated?" "What?" "Nothing."

The only one to actively seek you out; he actually calls you and texts you daily. He isn't afraid of being straightforward!

He always texts you to see if you're down to hang out, and if you say yes, he feels physically sick all day.

Absolutely loves being around you, but it also makes him feel like he's gonna vomit.

That feeling doesn't stop until you guys are actually dating.

Him and Tanner are pretty similar, aside from the fact that Isaac actually makes moves.

He peppers in some pet names that could kind of be passed off as platonic, but his heart could burst when you smile at the fact of him calling you 'dear'.

When he finally asks you out, and you say yes, he could fall to his knees right then and there.

#alex's writing #arachnoo.txt #tgc x reader #tgc #tgc x you #tgc x y/n #the group chat x reader #the group chat x y/n #the group chat x you #the group chat #isaacwhy #isaacwhy x y/n #isaacwhy x you #isaacwhy x reader #yumi #yumi x you #yumi x y/n #yumi x reader #big t #big t x y/n #big t x you #big t x reader

[jksprincess10]

Big man, little dignity

Summary: Joel saves your hopeless ass and he gets stuck with you for a while, but it doesn't seem to bother him.

TW: attempted rape, violence, age gap (yn is legal)

Tags: y/n is hella dumb, one bed trope, daddy kink, smut with plot, some fluff and petnames 

It was dark and you were dumb enough to go outside because you couldn’t sleep. You thought this city was safe enough. A community of squatters that got together after The Day. So you left your decrepit apartment where you lived alone and you walked under the stars, knife on hand just in case. You were still mindful of the fact that you were a woman, and the new world liked to remind you even more.

The area was cleared out of clickers and runners regularly by volunteers. You were useless in fights, but you were grateful of all the people who wanted to protect each other. You preferred staying behind and taking care of the gardens.

You wandered in the community gardens, passing a dark alleyway, when suddenly, you heard a noise. Like someone approaching slowly, mindfully but somehow still fucking up. You turned around, but it was hard to see anything in the darkness of the night. Soon enough, you felt strong arms grabbing you and pulling you in the closest alleyway. You dropped your knife on the way.

 “Get the fuck away from me.” You tried to sound menacing, but your voice was so low and so, so useless.

 He pushed you against the brick wall, facing away so you didn’t see who were attacking you. He was trying to take off your clothes. You cried silently, awaiting the moment where you were once again violated just for existing in a girl’s body.

 Without warning, the sound of a gun tore up the night sky. Then, a loud thump. Then, no more pressure on your hands. You were free and there was blood everywhere. You turned around and you were faced with another man. You felt the urge to run away, but he dropped his gun and put his hands up in the air.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” And you wanted badly to believe him.

He had a raspy voice and a thick American accent. You wiped your tears away, eyes still red and hands shaking. You slowly went towards him to see if you knew you savior. You didn’t.

He was almost 6 foot tall, in his late forties. Salt and pepper hair, patchy beard and a mustache that belonged in the 80s, tired but soft eyes.

“T-Thank you…” You finally managed to articulate.

He just nodded, then said. “You should sleep somewhere else tonight. I think they followed you.” But you had nowhere else to be, no one to go home to.

You had been so fucking reckless. So fucking stupid. And the time you get caught finally arrived.

You weren’t moving, except your shaky legs and hands.

“Here, come with me.”

He seemed especially awkward about it, like he hasn’t been much in contact with humans he didn’t kill. You nodded, then followed him. The road to the building he wanted to take you to wasn’t usually that long, but he did a few detours to outwit the people that wanted you dead or worse, enslaved.

Under his boots, the stairs creaked. The building was mostly abandoned, and he brought you to a door, which he locked behind him. He lit a few candles that made his tan skin look even tanner. He probably was outside a lot. You looked around to see a place that was as “charming” as where you lived.

Awkwardly, he gestured to the destroyed couch, where you sat, while he stayed up in the corner, analyzing your trembling movements.

“I can boil some water, do you want some tea or anything ?”

You nodded and he disappeared in the kitchen, coming back with only one fuming cup. Even a warm drink in this time was a luxury, so you were thankful.

 You looked like a scared little girl, hands gripping the cup like you were gripping on life.

 “What’s your name?”

 You told him. You had no reason to lie to him. He saved your ass back there.

“I’m Joel, nice to meet you. How old are you ? Young girls like you shouldn’t be outside at that time… it’s dangerous. Bunch of creeps.”

Well that felt… patronizing. He was probably a dad before all of this, so you couldn’t blame him. He looked like a dad. But you knew your short hair, big doe eyes and round face made you look like a teen when you were closer to 30 than 18.

“I’m 26. Not that young and helpless.”

That’s it, you slowly got your personality back. You could’ve sworn you saw a smile tug the corner of his chapped lips.

“So, what the fuck where you doing outside ?”

“Taking a walk. Couldn’t sleep with my dumb anxiety. And you?”

He seemed to understand. You sipped your tea, warm beverage going down your throat and warming up your body.

“Doing a delivery. I got… stuff for that if you need. Contraband. Will make you sleep through the night with no problem.”

A Ziplock bag appeared in his callused hands with a few white pills in it.

“What if you want to drug me?”

Your fear was legitimate.

“I’ll take one before and you’ll see it’s harmless.”

“Deal.”

So, he did, and you waited in silence. You looked at your clothes once you were done dissociating. They were covered in blood and having them still on made you feel dirty.

“I’ve got extra clothes if you need.”

“Do I wanna look like a middle-aged dad? Sure.”

A silent laugh escaped his throat. He got up to get you clean clothes: men’s shirt and loose joggers in which you would probably float. He pointed you to the bathroom, where you silently went. The mirror was half broken, drugs, alcool and various sketchy bottles covered the counter that was falling apart. In what’s left of the mirror, you could see your red eyes and trembling lips. You decided to look away and got changed. The joggers were hanging on by a thread on your boney hips.

“Do you live alone?” You asked as you went back to what was left of a living room.

“Yeah. You’re safe here. And I didn’t die yet, so take a pill and rest.”

He left you the only mattress in the apartment and he slept on his couch. The white pill slowly rocked both of you guys to sleep. It numbed your brain enough so you didn’t have to relive the last hours.

The next days followed almost the same routine. Joel seemed determined to keep you under his wings. You didn’t leave and he didn’t ask you to, even if his back hurt him because of his long nights on the destroyed couch. Soon enough, he brought you on odd jobs with him, but he discovered fast enough that you didn’t know how to shoot a gun to save your life. So, he taught you.

You were in an empty field, not a human or a runner in the horizon. He had put up some kind of homemade targets for you to shoot.

“How did you live for so long if you didn’t know how to fight, lady?”

“I took care of plants and stayed inside. You’re welcome for the food I’m growing, by the way.”

He laughed silently, like he always did. You never heard his actual laugh.

“Let’s get back to teaching you some things, sweetheart.”

It was the first time he gave you a pet name. You tried to ignore the jumping sensation in your heart and your flushed cheeks when he said it. Thankfully, his body was behind yours and he couldn’t see your face.

“Is it okay if I come closer and touch you to help?”

“Y-yeah, go ahead.” You liked that he cared enough to ask.

You felt his torso come closer to your back and his big hands grabbing yours so he could direct the gun correctly. His body was so warm against yours, his hands so rough. You tried to distract your mind with something, anything else.

“So you hold like this, and pull the trigger like this…”

He made you shoot and you jump a little at the loud sound, only getting closer to him.

“…And then here you can reload. Here, try for yourself.” He dropped his arms to his sides.

You did what he told you to do and managed to shoot the target. It wasn’t perfectly in the middle of the red circle, but it was a start.

After training for what seemed like hours, you went to the garden you cultivated to grab some food and put them in your bag, so you didn’t attract any unwanted attention.

“Hm, we should also get you a new mattress.”

“So you’re not going to leave?”

You smirked.

“Not until you tell me to.”

You were bad news. He felt like he was getting attached and losing you would break his heart.

“Tomorrow, we’ll get one.”

But they never did.

On a colder night, his warm body joined yours on the mattress. You felt strong arms pulling you closer against his chest and a breath got caught in your throat.

“Is this okay?” He murmured against your ear, sending shivers down your whole body.

“Y-Yes.” You sounded more breathless than you wanted to.

You turned around so you faced him, body still nestled in his strong arms.

“Look, I don’t want to be creepy or anything… I know I’m much older than you. Say the word and I’ll leave.”

“Joel, stop. You’re not creeping me out. I… like this. ”

His tense shoulders seemed relieved for an instant. Without thinking more about the complicated situation that would await you two broken humans, you pressed your lips against his. First, slowly, almost timidly, before fully tasting him. He had an aftertaste of coffee and whiskey, which you did not mind. You felt his palms cup your cheeks and his weight shift unto yours. You sunk into the mattress under his weight.

“Can we keep going?” He asked as you parted ways, breathless.

“Yes daddy.”

You said it without thinking, but he didn’t seem to mind, the lust in his warm eyes actually showed you how much he liked it. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, like the fire lit in your lower abdomen.

His lips smashed against yours once more, this time, rougher. His fingers hastily took off most of your clothes except your panties, leaving you vulnerable in the chilly air. You were suddenly self-conscious under his gaze. You had lost so much weight since the apocalypse; you were almost skin and bones. You hated this body that was given to you. It wasn’t healthy. Your boobs were always small, and you hated wearing bras, so they kind of had a mind of their own.

“So pretty, my sweet girl.”

He managed to reassure you a little bit.

“Take off your damn clothes.” You responded.

Your delicate fingers undid his green shirt, revealing soft trails of black hair leading to the mystery that was hidden under his pants.

“Sorry, I’m old and probably not as fit as –”

You cut him off with a kiss. “Stop, you’re so hot, my daddy.” You whispered against his lips.

He groaned and undid hastily his belt and soon, he was free of any fabric. He held his erection in his hand and gave it a few pumps.

“Please, let me…”

You shifted your weight on him, pinning him on the mattress. Your soft lips grazed his chest, following every scar and every crease. Finally, you put your prey against your lips, before taking him in. He groaned instantly.

“My sweet, sweet girl…”

You bobbed your head slowly, sucking in your cheeks so he could feel every surface of your wet mouth. His hand reached your neck and pressed, making you see stars. You sunk your lips deeper on his cock, almost choking on his length.

“Take your time, baby girl.”

And you did for a few seconds, before he pulled you away. You almost protested, but he grabbed your ass and pulled you on his face. He pressed you hard against his lips and his hands on your hips prevented you from moving away.

“W-Wait…”

Your cunt sat on his nose for a few seconds and the sensation of it already made you moan loudly. He licked up a stripe and teased your clit with his tongue. His beard felt rough on your thighs and would probably leave burn marks there. It seemed like he had done this so many times and it left you whimpering and helpless on top of him. Your hands pressed against the tapestry.

“F-Fuck, Joel…”

He sucked on your clit, harder, until you cried his name before your release. You came, hard. You moved away from his face, legs shaking, and saw his lips glistening with your juices.

“Will you let me fuck you now, sweet girl?”

His lips pressed against your chin, before touching yours. You nodded enthusiastically.

“Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Yes, yes please.”

His hands took their reserved place on your hips, guiding you over his erected length. He guided you as you slowly went down on him, slowly stretching your hole to fit him. Then, you didn’t have to do any more work. He pressed your body against hist chest and started thrusting your hips against yours. It was messy, dirty, even, but it was the first time you felt safe with a man in the same bed.

“Y-You’re so tight for me, sweet girl.”

His warm lips traced an invisible path on your neck as you moaned softly in his ears. His thrusts got rougher, and rougher, until you felt his release. His warm liquid filled your insides.

Your body dropped beside his, limbs weak.

“Fuck the new mattress.”

“Fuck the new mattress.” You agreed.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x reader #pedro x yn

[heartsofminds]

Blooming (II)

So instead he settles for an affectionate squeeze to the right side of her face with his palm. “I wish you weren’t so young.” or Bradley Bradshaw is emotionally immature and he knows it, but she just wants to kiss him. 

Warning: Contains curse words, a failed age-gapped relationship, and sexual connotations. 18+ readers, only. 

A/N: Welcome to part two of my new series, Blooming. Here we learn about Rooster and Hangman’s past and his lack of emotional stability. Stay awhile, and enjoy 9.1k words in honor of our favorite aviator’s birthday.

Read Blooming and Blooming III here. 

i. 

Bradley knows he has a temper. 

One that makes his face hot and his chest flush a deep pink. His ears are always scarlet and the vein in the side of his neck attempts to become four-dimensional. The voices of everyone around him become muffled and he breathes deeply through his nose. His view of his immediate surroundings becomes blurred; almost as if he’s underwater and opening his eyes without goggles. 

And although Bradley knows he has a horrible temper, he also knows that he desperately needs to work on keeping it in check. It’s been a long time since he’s blown up. It’s been an even longer time since he’s felt so angry that he couldn’t breathe; his lungs feeling crushed and like he’s up in the air with no oxygen. 

He doesn’t know who he inherited his short fuse from. His mother was the most patient and kindhearted woman on Earth and his father, from what he had been told, was an oddball who was so obnoxiously goofy that nothing would ever be taken seriously enough by him to set him off in such a volatile way. 

And then there was Bradley. 

Bradley Bradshaw, who already had a chip on his shoulder from his father’s reputation, his mother’s death, and the fact that his beloved godfather didn’t believe in him enough to hold his own that he pulled his papers from the Academy the first time he applied and refused to acknowledge why Bradley was so pissed at what he had done.  

So that’s how he found himself in a class with people younger than him, literal infants in his humble opinion, and was embarrassed knowing that he stuck out the minute someone asked him how old he is. 

He made friends there, of course. He even had himself something sort of a girlfriend too. Her name was Tanner, and she was a knockout; tan skin and curly red hair with freckles that dotted her skin like how craters kiss the moon. But she was only nineteen and here he was at twenty-four; hopelessly in love with her and treading in the dangerous waters of knowing that their relationship was going to inevitably end. Mostly because they lived in such different worlds. 

Venus always looks close to Mercury until you realize that they orbit at different speeds. 

And despite it all, he was ready to bite the bullet for her. He was ready to settle down the minute she said: “Go.” He was ready to do any and everything she wanted if she just as much as felt the need to ask him. She was his everything because he had nothing and he knew it was a dangerous game to be playing; putting all that trust and responsibility in a person, let alone a nineteen-year-old girl. But Bradley pushed this fear aside and realized that this was his new normal. With his mom dead and Maverick out of the picture, she was the sole proprietor of his grounding and he assumed that he would be her’s as well. 

Bradley knew that he liked being comfortable and because he loved this girl so much, he was willing to swim in a sea of unknowns and discomfort. It was uncharted territory but it couldn’t be so bad. And boy, how that came back to bite him in the ass. 

While he did trust her fully (well, three-quarters of the way if you were to be exact), Rooster knew that they probably were not on the same page. Reading the same book? Yes. On the same page? Maybe sometimes, but definitely not reading the same paragraph and he’s for certain they’re not comprehending any of the words the same way.  

He knew she was young and still in college, a breeding ground for meaningless hookups and boozy frat parties, but he never wanted to be too controlling. He had seen enough of that bullshit in his fellow midshipmen. He had witnessed the kicking of walls when their significant others pissed them off or even the disgusting “locker room talk” that he assumed all guys grew out of after they graduated high school. But with each “Her tits are huge!” and “God damn I’d do anything to fuck her!”’s he hears when getting dressed after an intense training session, he realizes that a lot of the people he’s around are still boys and teenaged ones, at that. 

And then the realization clicks again that man, sometimes it fucking sucks being so old. 

But despite it all, Bradley knew that he wasn’t in control of her and couldn’t make himself have the heart to if he tried. So he didn’t loom over her the way that he would’ve liked to sometimes and understandably, he did get rather jealous every now and then. And he was working on being more open and communicating what he’s feeling when he’s feeling it or whatever his friend Phoenix was always on about when he came to her with relationship troubles. 

While Phoenix’s advice did work and he had admitted to himself that the female pilot is more emotionally intelligent and sensitive than she ever let on, the fights and disagreements still happened despite him using her tactics. Sometimes he would find himself shouting hurtful things at her or refusing to speak whenever she was attempting to rile him up so he would yell at Tanner. She had told him once during a late night pillow talking session that she picked fights with him so she would have some reason to actually be mad at him. 

But whenever he felt his cheeks get hot and his ears turn red while arguing with her about spending too much time with one of her male friends (for what feels like the eightieth time in the nine months they had been dating), Rooster remembered that he was yelling at a nineteen-year-old girl, with turquoise bedsheets and fairy lights all around him in a shitty dorm room with a nosy roommate on the other side of the door.  

So while Bradley does have a temper, he learned rather quickly when to pick his battles. He took deep breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth. He clenched his fists at his sides and closed his eyes. His thumb rubbed circular motions over his pointer fingers and he would picture his mom’s face, bleach blonde hair, and ocean blue eyes giving him a soft smile and saying, “You’re alright! Just calm down, babycakes.” 

When he would get like that he would always think of what his mom would do and he knew that his mother was the kindest woman in history and that she raised him well. He would always see women as an extension of themselves and not an extension of him. 

Girls have their own brains and own consciousnesses and own sets of morals. Bradley recognized that keeping his unwarranted thoughts to himself was easier than letting them out and causing an F6 tornado of problems that were just a poor projection of his own unhealed trauma and insecurities.

And while this along with Phoenix’s pep talks helped him be the best man and boyfriend he thought he could manage to be at the ripe age of twenty-four, Rooster realized that he had some shortcomings and that he kept failing to realize one thing: That not every girl he’s with is meant to be his. 

One thing that routinely had Rooster seeing red regardless of how much self-soothing or how much he tried to focus on his mother’s voice in the back of his head is whenever Tanner would visit him on base. 

Jake Seresin was not shy in the slightest and Bradley was (and still definitely is) convinced that God put him on this Earth to see if he had a hidden brain aneurysm because he’s sure one will erupt from how much stress the blond regularly puts him through. And yeah, Hangman’s annoying, and yes, Rooster is definitely not one of his biggest fans, but his girlfriend’s wandering eyes on the younger pilot wasn’t Jake’s fault in the slightest. But since he can’t force himself to be angry with Tanner, he settled for directing his anger towards Hangman and God, did that make his blood boil.

He had already brought it up to her numerous times before; telling her that he wasn’t trying to be a dick or prove that he was an Alpha male. Just that the idea that she always seemed more intrigued in what Jake had to say or was doing whenever she comes around bothers him like no other. Of course, that started a screaming match with her face as red as a tomato and his breathing resembling that of a woman experiencing contractions, but he had thought they worked it out. 

Well, shit, the make-up sex they had after was enough of an agreement, he had thought, but obviously not because it was happened again and this time, it was enough to make Bradley lose it entirely. 

Bradley knew that their relationship was probably coming to a close soon. He had a sixth sense for these kinds of things and he didn’t know if his intuition was really strong or if he just had a propensity to worry himself to death, but he felt like he could always tell when people’s feelings about him had shifted. 

Well that, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that Tanner was losing interest. She didn’t remember the small things he had told her in passing like she used to and she never divulged much into her daily life with him over the phone anymore. She always sounded tired. Bored, even, and he couldn’t tell if she was bored of the conversation or bored of him. 

He chose to ignore it. He chose to ignore the sounds of unfamiliar voices in the back of their phone calls. He chose to ignore the fake interest she had while giving him the little reactions people usually have when you’re talking to them. He had caught her a few times laughing at morbid things he would say, which proved his theory that she was hearing him but never really listening. He chose to ignore the fact that she never told him she missed him anymore or that all the letters she would send would be signed with her name neatly at the bottom. 

She clearly had surpassed the need to declare her love for him with a comma following her signature on a piece of stationery paper.

Bradley chose to ignore all of this because living in denial is always better than having the burden of proof thrown in your face for you to forcefully accept it. 

So as a last-ditch effort to mend the relationship before biting the bullet and calling it quits with her, he invited her to the base to visit him. He made a deal with himself; if it went well, he would leave it alone but if she seemed like she’d rather be strangled with barbed wire than be there with him, he would let her go. 

When Tanner arrived, it was all butterflies and rainbows. She engulfed him in a hug and kissed his face like crazy. He didn’t remember her being such a fan of lipgloss when he had seen her two months prior, but he figures a lot can change about someone when you very rarely see them. So when she laid sticky cherry flavored kisses on his cheeks and neck, he didn’t question her on it and relished in the fact that she was there with him and that maybe, quite possibly, she was still in love and that this was it for him. 

She’s eager to hold his hand and to listen to his stories about whatever bullshit he has going on at the moment. She even gives him a rundown of her current friend group at college and what drama is brewing between whichever group of people and how she found out about it and what she intends to do to prevent things from getting so insanely messy. 

She’s basically glued to his hip the entire weekend. Her hand is always twisting their fingers together and the band of her purity ring (which has definitely been rendered useless since she’s been dating Bradley) rubs against the junction between Bradley’s thumb and pointer finger and fits like a cog in a wheel; as if it had always belonged there. She smiles sweetly at him, and he has her full attention whenever he speaks or walks into a room. 

When Tanner asks to use the bathroom and insists that she can find it herself without his help, Bradley doesn't think anything of it. She’s a big girl and as much as he wanted to go with her so he could soak up every second of the limited time they had together, he had to be laissez-faire. He couldn’t control her and he knew that lurking around every corner would make her feel like a child. 

So Bradley settled on passing the time by sitting down and relaxing. He leaned forward slightly, his elbows rested on his knees and his legs were spread enough to be proportionate with his torso. He tapped his feet, drummed his fingers on his legs, and fiddled with his watch. He knew that she was a slow walker with zero sense of urgency to her. There were some exceptions to that; those only being if she was running late for class and she had an exam that specific period or if she was horny beyond belief and was begging him to “fuck the shit” out of her on a shitty ass college dorm mattress. 

It didn’t seem weird that fifteen minutes had passed and there was still no sign of her. As a means to prevent himself from worrying to death or pacing around the base like a fucking lunatic, Bradley decided to busy his mind by going over his ever-growing “to-do” list that he kept in the back of his head. 

Despite all the mundane tasks and intrusive and borderline obnoxious thoughts he had going a mile a minute in his brain, Bradley was surprisingly an organized thinker when it came to remembering all the things that he had to do. He carefully sifted through his responsibilities and assigned them blocks of time and where they would fit in his day before he checked his watch again and realized that an entire forty minutes had passed since he had last seen his girlfriend. 

Something was off, and the familiar impending pit of doom that often plagued his stomach made a reappearance as he sped walked up and down the hallways of the base. 

She’s fine, right? The base is huge and she’s terrible with directions so she may have just gotten lost, right? And figured that he would come looking for her, right? She’s fine. She had to be. 

And when Bradley rounded a corner and was met with a supply closet at a dead end, he paused at a loud thump that followed a high-pitched moan. 

“Oh God!” he heard a breathy squeak from a female voice, “Harder, daddy. Please, I’ve been so good!” 

The pit in Rooster’s stomach turned into a ball of fire. He recognized that wheezy gasp anywhere. Hell, he had heard it two nights ago when he had her face down in the backseat of her 2002 Ford Focus. 

He should be the only person eliciting those kinds of sounds from her. He had a death wish for whoever was on the other side of that metal door, because one thing about Bradley Bradshaw was that you never messed with anything that was his. 

Rooster kicked open the door with his fists clenched to his side. He knew his ears were bright red and he felt himself starting to sweat bullets through his uniform shirt. The anger was hot as hell, and if he was in a better mood, he would make the joke that hell was right in front of him.  

Her blouse was unbuttoned and it's been shifted over to one side of her chest, her nipple poking out through the gaped hole the button was supposed to secure. Her bra had long been taken off of her and the denim shorts she had worn to the base are hanging off of a random filing cabinet that was stored in there; showing that they were taken off in a frenzy. 

And low and behold, the man of his disdain (even more so now than ever before) was in front of her, hoisting her up around his waist and fucking into her relentlessly. His uniform top was unbuttoned and his slacks were limp around his hips. 

The sudden kick of the door opening did little to interrupt them, but Jake noticed Bradley standing in front of them; a damn near homicidal gleam in his eye and his entire body flushed pink with red hot anger. And like the asshole that Hangman is, he sent him a smirk and a wink before leaning forward to suck a hickey behind the redhead's ear. 

“You son of a bitch!” Bradley screeched, “I’ll fucking kill you!” 

He barreled his way into the small and rather dingy supply closet. Bradley grabbed Jake by the collar of his shirt and pushed him into the wall. Jake sputtered a cough; the wind knocked completely out of him. 

His girlfriend (or soon-to-be ex-girlfriend, really) shrieked and gawked her eyes in horror at the scene taking place in front of her. Bradley wasn’t supposed to find them, and he wasn’t supposed to know that the reason for their break up was because she was unfaithfully faithfully fucking another man. 

Tanner buttoned her blouse as fast as she could and pushed her denim shorts up her legs speedily. She had been embarrassed and ashamed before, but this was a whole new level. Not only had she been caught red-handed, but caught doing something dirty and quite possibly something illegal. 

Hangman had finally caught his breath. His blue eyes gazed up at Rooster with a gleam of mischief. He knew that there was no way for him to charm himself out of this one, and if he was gonna get his ass beat, the least he could do was have some fun with it. 

Jake sits up, tightening his belt his head, a smirk still on his face as he pulls up his pants and tightens his belt. “Oh look, it’s Chicken,” he scoffs, “I mean Rooster. How are you, man?” 

Bradley seethed with rage. His fist went straight to Jake’s eye, the impact making the blond pilot stumble back a bit. Jake had to admit, Bradley was one strong mother fucker and his eye swelling shut definitely proved his realization right. 

Bradley paused, trying to calm his breathing a bit before speaking. He knew that if he didn’t get himself under control, he may actually fucking murder Jake Seresin and although that wouldn’t be half bad, he worked too goddamn hard to get kicked out of the Navy and face criminal charges on the base. 

His ears were still glowing red and his breathing even heavier than before. Tanner stood in the doorway of the supply closet in shock and utter panic. 

“Ooh, you’re lucky you didn’t get my good side, Bradshaw,” Jake taunted, “But I’m sure Tan over there thinks every side is my good side. Don’t ya, baby?” 

And oh shit, Jacob Michael Seresin did have a fucking death wish and in that moment, it was evident that he really didn’t give a fuck what Bradley could do to him. Any opportunity to get underneath Bradshaw’s skin was a golden one, and Jake just couldn’t bring himself to not be an asshole. 

And oh, how Bradley fucking hated that. He grabbed the blond pilot by the collar and yanks him up to stand. He was too angry to speak. Shit, his brain was so fried from all the heat his body was exuding that he couldn’t even begin to think of words to put into sentences that would even make any fucking sense. 

“Bradley, stop! Let him go!” Tanner yelled, and all of his senses in his body are turned off except for his tunnel vision sight and his sense of touch. That was made unmistakably apparent as each blow delivered to Hangman’s face and torso kept coming and coming and coming. 

Jake’s face was black and blue and he’s sure he has baseball sized bruises all up and down his upper body, but he didn’t care. He finally had another missile to add to his arsenal of things to fuck with Bradley’s head. The result of that alone outweighed the healing time he would need. 

Eventually, a commander walks by and pulls Rooster off of Hangman, and that was how he and Jake and Tanner all found themselves outside of Admiral Gadson’s office to tell their accounts of why Tanner’s bra was in the hallway and why Bradley’s face was beet red and why Jake’s right eye was swollen beyond belief. 

Rooster sat straight up and looked ahead, choosing to ignore the sounds of Tanner and Jake’s hushed conversation beside him. 

So that’s how Rooster found himself on garbage duty (”indefinitely”, Admiral Gadson had said, but he liked the kid and felt bad for him, so really, he said it meaning two weeks) and with no girlfriend. 

And yeah, Bradley Bradshaw definitely had a temper and was definitely naive. And as he’s picking up orange peels and scrubbing dried piss off of toilet bowls, he made note of two things: One, he desperately needed to keep his temper in check and two, he would never make the same mistake to trust a young girl like that ever again. 

Man, does it fucking suck being so fucking old. 

ii. 

(Y/N)’s body is on fire. 

She’s not particularly hot, per se, but she most certainly is flustered. And for once, the source of her panic isn’t from a deadline or an application or some bill she had to have transferred over from her college apartment to the new one she would be living in come fall semester for law school. 

No, (Y/N) is on fire because of the sandy-haired pilot beneath her right now. 

Bradley Bradshaw’s old Bronco was a lot roomier than she ever anticipated it being, but then again, she wasn’t that great with dimensions (Damn you, astigmatisms.) and she wasn’t big on cars or motorcycles or boats or planes or anything that supplied humans with transportation, really. 

She had just been responsible for closing the Hard Deck by herself again and like clockwork, the handsome aviator wandered his way inside to tell her about how he had misplaced his sunglasses and despite the fact that they were closed, he just had to find them tonight. 

(Y/N) knew it was a ploy for him to get to talk to her alone. The mischievous glint in his eye when the words came out of his mouth told her so and besides, his beloved aviator shades were practically glued to his face. So how the hell did he manage to lose them? 

“Crazy how they’re basically glued to your damn head and you managed to lose them,” (Y/N) teases, rounding out from behind the bar to help Bradley search for the glasses, ”How the hell are you a pilot? Get lost often, too?” 

Rooster shakes his head, his gaze falling on the floor and his hands finding the sanctuary of his front pockets. The smile on his face gives his true intentions away, but he’s unaware that (Y/N) notices this. 

“Directions are different than placement,” he jokes, “I do happen to be smarter than a fifth-grader, you know.” 

The joke sits in the air for a few seconds before (Y/N) realizes that she has a stupid grin on her face and that damn, he looks really good in the lighting of Hard Deck. 

“Obviously not because you can’t do simple math,” she chides, “I’m twenty-one. Not ten, jackass.”��

“Hmm,” he leans on the side of the bar top with a smug look on his face, “Couldn’t tell. That baby face of yours says otherwise. I think it’s the dimples.” 

She scoffs and puts her hand to her chest. “Jesus, Bradshaw. Weren’t you just trying to take me out on a date last week? Now I’m in fifth grade?” she starts looking around the bar floor for his sunglasses, “Seems pretty fucked up for a Navy man, don’t you think?” 

“Pretty fucked up that you know I’m in the Navy and have a rank but refuse to use it when you address me,” Rooster quips. He starts to look on the floor of the booths near the area (Y/N) is searching. 

(Y/N) stands up straight and crosses her arms. She takes a deep breath before approaching Bradley, putting a hand on his chest and giving him her doe eyes. 

“I’m so sorry, Lieutenant Bradshaw,” she adds extra thirst to her tone, ” How could I ever can I make it up to you? I’m just so young that I don’t know any better.” 

Bradley grins and takes (Y/N)’s hand on his chest in his and entangles their fingers. He looks down at their conjoined hands, his pointer finger running across her newly obtained class ring. 

His tongue comes out to lick at his bottom lip before his gaze shifts from their hands to (Y/N)’s face. 

“I can think of a few things.” 

He reaches up to grab the side of her face and pulls her in for a kiss. It’s soft, sweet even. It reminds her of how grooms kiss their brides during their wedding ceremonies. His lips are soft and plush, she thinks, and that was the best goddamn kiss she’s ever had in her entire life. 

(Y/N) detaches their lips and reaches up, taking both of her arms and looping them around Bradley’s neck. His hands move to her waist and he leans down to kiss her once more. This time he deepens it. The kisses are still soft and on target, never leaving her lips once at all. He’s not messy or miscalculated. It’s almost eerie, how his kisses are deep and starting to get rough but yet he was still thoughtful and delicate with her. 

His tongue swipes against (Y/N)’s top lip, and she opens her mouth to let it enter. (Y/N)’s not super experienced. She’s only ever kissed her college ex-boyfriend like this and they had broken up the summer going into her Junior year so it’s safe to say that it’s been a while. 

The sparkle in both of their eyes says the same thing, and she’s taking his hand in hers and leading him out of the front door of Hard Deck. He hugs her from behind as she struggles to lock the door, the kisses he’s planting on her neck making her giggle and lose focus. 

“Stop it, Bradshaw,” she says between laughs, ‘Penny’ll kill me if this door doesn’t get locked which means you can’t keep coming back to get me alone because I won’t be allowed to close by myself again.” 

Rooster giggles into her neck, his chuckle and the hairs from his mustache tickling her neck. 

“I bet I could sweet talk her,” he says, landing another kiss on the dip of skin just behind her earlobe, “She doesn’t call me sweet pea, for nothin’.” 

(Y/N) turns around and kisses him on the lips. “You stole my nickname, you fucker, so matter of fact, maybe I won’t lock the door because you can’t be trusted anymore.” 

Rooster brings her face closer to his again. His teeth tug on her bottom lip, not hard enough to draw blood but hard enough to make her wince. 

“She was my aunt before she was yours,” he says, lips grazing over hers, “Remember to respect your elders, chick.” 

“Well if you’re going off of that guise, I’m not sure how Penny would feel watching us make out in front of the door when she watches the cameras back tomorrow morning.” 

(Y/N)’s statement makes Rooster back up and embarrassment washes over his face. (Y/N) had only ever seen the pilot with a smirk on his face; confidence and glee the primary emotions energizing his expression. To see him embarrassed was a sight for sore eyes. 

“Let’s move our transaction to my car, hmm?” he asks, hands finding her hips. (Y/N) nods eagerly and Bradley takes her to the beloved 1977 baby blue Ford Bronco that he had inherited from his father when he had turned sixteen many moons ago. 

He opens the passenger door for her before walking to the driver’s side. (Y/N) climbs in and shuts it, and the soft sound of metal falling on the floor of the car can be heard. She cranes her neck and moves her knees to the side to retrieve whatever had fallen from the force of the door closing.

And fuck, Bradley Bradshaw was either blind or a liar because low and behold, his “lost” sunglasses are in her hand. 

He shuts the door to his side of the vehicle and a small smile is on his face. He doesn’t turn to face her just yet. He knows that she’s found them and if he’s starting to figure her out as well as he thinks he is, he knows that her voice will be pipping up from the right side of his car in three, two, one- 

“You know, if you wanted to make out with me, Bradshaw you could’ve just asked,” she says, placing the aviators in his cupholder, “I’m not a floozy, but I wouldn’t have said no to you.” 

“Where’s the fun in that?” he asks, turning to face her head-on, “And I don’t think you’re a floozy, baby. If so, only for me, right?” 

He gives her a smile and the inky blue of the California night sky paints a mural for her eyes. She never thought she would be into pilots, let alone older men, but yet, here she is in the passenger seat of a Ford Bronco, trying to debate if she should leave him hanging and only make out with him, or go all the way. 

He’s so damn fit and such a good kisser. The way he looks at her makes her mouth water and the way he teases her makes her so fucking wet. The ball is in her court and the hard part isn’t playing, but deciding when to start. 

(Y/N) leans over to kiss him again and this time, she grabs his face with both hands. There’s a warmth in the pit of her stomach and a hunger in her eyes. Bradley reclines his seat with one hand and guides her over to straddle his lap with the other. 

He thought he was way past the need for messy sex in the driver’s seat of his car, but you can never set expectations without some minor setback now, can you? 

(Y/N) is so goddamn horny and ready for him. She can’t remember being this desperate for anyone, really, and of course, she’s had sex before but she never remembers it being exceptionally good. It was just okay enough to get by and she always figured that she had enough time to have all the mind-blowing sex in the world the older she got. She was only twenty-one now, for fucks sake. 

Bradley’s as hard as a fucking rock and he doesn’t know if it’s the adrenaline pumping through his veins at fucking in the parking lot of such a popular place or if it’s exciting because he has a knockout sitting in his lap, her clothed cunt (that he knows has to be absolutely soaked for him) grinding like hell over his growing erection. 

He’s not been this horny since high school and if he was in a clearer state of mind (and maybe a better man too, he thinks) he would’ve opted to have taken her to dinner and then back to his place. At least there he had a bed and a couch they could fuck like rabbits on. Both pieces of furniture are government property technically, but then again, so is he until his service duty is up, so what even is the big deal? 

“Fuck, chick,” he breathes, grabbing her hips to push her down on his hardened clothed cock even more, “You’re such a good kisser.” 

She giggles into his mouth and fuck, he’s a goner. 

‘Yeah?” she asks, grinding herself even more onto his erection. She lets out a small moan (one that she thought Bradley couldn’t hear but his slight chuckle of amusement lets her know that she’s been caught) as the layers separating her bare pussy from his denim-clad package catches on her clit just right. 

“Yeah, baby. You’re a fucking knockout.” 

This makes her smile even more. Their kisses are sloppy now, the constant grinding crafting a veil of ecstasy around them both. 

“(Y/N)?” he asks. His fingers unbutton her shorts and starts to slide them down her legs.

“Yeah?” she answers. Her cut-offs are completely off her legs and on the floor near Bradley’s feet. The lilac-colored panties she had on were completely soaked where her weepy hole sat. 

If it was under any other circumstance or with any other person, she would find herself flushing pink and attempting to hide her face in her hands. But her arousal and also the fact that she feels so secure in what Bradley is doing with her prevents that. 

“Are you awake?” he asks. 

She doesn’t answer him, just continues to move her hips in circles in his lap. Her head is thrown back and the pressure and slight burn his jeans are providing her hardened clit feels like a slice of heaven. 

“Sweet pea? Are you awake?” he asks again, but this time, his voice doesn’t sound like his. 

It’s too high pitched; too womanly. 

“What the fuck?” she questions and then she hears it again, and the view of her surroundings starts to blur and everything starts to fade.

She’s completely pantless standing in a sea of black and then she hears it again. 

“(Y/N )? I’m headed out. Text me if you need anything!” and she recognizes it as her godmother’s voice. And then it clicks, and holy hell, the idea of Penny finding her like this terrifies her. 

(Y/N) shoots up in her bed, the sleep shirt she had worn completely soaked through with sweat. 

“Jesus Christ,” she sighs to herself, palms rubbing at her eyes to help process what the actual fuck just happened. 

And as she stands in the shower with the cold water running and the sunlight shining through the stained glass window Penny had in her guest bathroom, she feels ashamed. 

She just had a wet dream about Bradley Bradshaw like a fucking teenager and shit, maybe he was right. She was too young for him to take her out. 

iii.

Bradley was always surprisingly nervous. 

As a pilot, he was a total adrenaline junkie and small things that make his heart race satiate him enough to get through the day. He was naturally inclined to panic but every time his stomach dropped or he felt like his heart would stop from how hard the muscle was pumping, it filled him with a sense of euphoria. 

Pilots can’t be nervous wrecks. Especially naval pilots, and that was a lesson he had learned rather early. He picked this up through recounts of his Uncle Mav and Uncle Ice’s stories when they would be in charge of watching him while his mom worked the night shift. The mission impossible-like stories replaced his bedtime stories when his mom wasn’t home and Bradley never had the heart to tell her, but he would rather listen to Maverick and Iceman before he ever heard her rendition of “Goodnight, Moon” ever again.

But one thing was sure and that one thing stuck with him forever. Pilots can’t be nervous. Getting nervous would get you killed; whether that be shot down, captured, or ejected from your aircraft was up to the pilot and the cockpit was already small enough as is. There is absolutely no room for such a large feeling like nervousness. 

So his entire life up to this point at thirty-five years old, he always found a way to dodge his nervousness. Is it healthy? Not really. Does it help? Well, not really either but he doesn’t really have much of a choice now. 

Wanting to ask a girl he liked out on a date? Oh, the fast beating of his heart when he approached her wasn’t nerves, it was just because he liked her so much. She thought that him saying his heart “Beats louder for you because it wants you to hear how much you mean to me,” was endearing and Bradley knew he was lying and he was literally about to shit himself from the anxiety looming in his chest. 

He was the starting pitcher for the boy’s high school state game? He wasn’t nervous, just excited, he would say even though the blown look of his pupils and the gnarly sweat stains near his armpits told everyone else otherwise. 

He was getting ready for his promotion to Junior Lieutenant and had to be absolutely perfect and could not afford to fuck up under any circumstances? Bradley wasn’t nervous. He was just so undeniably ready to work his way up the ranks. But really, his palms were so goddamn sweaty he’s sure that he grossed out two Captains and one Admiral when he went to shake their hands. 

And there are so many other instances that he could name and correct his nervousness for another feeling, perhaps. 

Unbeknownst to him, Rooster Bradshaw never really knew that thinking about his feelings this way was unhealthy and was probably (well definitely, really) preventing him from being a fully emotionally intelligent man the way his mother would have liked him to be. 

So no, Bradley Bradshaw didn’t get nervous per se but when the dark-haired pilot walks into a room filled with twelve of the best naval fighter pilots in the nation, he’s alarmed. Bradley is competitive, no doubt about that, but at the end of the day he can’t help but remain the team player his parents had raised him to be. 

His “no man left behind” mentality had gotten him caught up numerous times before and his need to ensure that everything was fair made him known to be a stickler. 

But is he nervous? Hell no. Just slightly worried; scared, even because when the nation’s best is sitting in a squad room with their flight suits on and no information about what was going on, whatever was to come had to be huge; even bigger than all their egos totaled together. 

Hangman makes some shitty joke about Bob’s glasses; something along the lines of “four eyes” and how the Navy doesn’t need satellite cameras to spy on people. They could just look through Bob’s glasses and see all that they need to see. 

It earns a few chuckles from the other pilots sitting around and even if Rooster was itching to talk or do something to occupy his mind, he absolutely refused to acknowledge Jake Seresin more than what was necessary. 

Phoenix walks to her seat and “trips” on Hangman’s chair, tugging the leg back not enough to pull him out from under completely, but enough to startle him and make him choke on the words he was fixing to leave his mouth. 

Everyone chuckles a bit before they’re made aware of Admirals Simpson and Bates coming to speak to them. Bradley straightens up in his seat. He was always so painfully self-aware and he didn’t need something else to pick apart about the interactions he had had today while he lays in bed at night.

They’re given the run down of why they’re all there which, in Rooster’s mind, is always the same. 

They get told how talented they are and how well they perform in their roles. It’s always one big confidence boost before getting pushed off the cliff to the reality of the situation. Because they’re so good they’re going to be shipped off to play mission impossible, and because it’s mission impossible, there’s an even larger chance that they won’t make it back alive. 

Rooster’s had at least twelve of these talks in the last ten years he’s been flying and before, the thought of being up in the air, unaware if clouds and a blue sky were the last things he would ever see scared him. 

But then he kept making it back and he kept getting “invited” (more like ordered) to carry out more prestigious and dangerous missions. So no, Rooster isn’t nervous at all. There’s nothing new to the expectations he and his fellow pilots are under. The word “curveball” ceases to exist in the Navy’s vocabulary, anyway. 

And as much as he tries to be respectful and attentive, his mind starts to wander and the evasive thoughts that he usually has take precedence over what’s currently unfolding in front of him. 

He looks the Admirals in the eye, but little did they know that his mind was far from the pupils of the respected Navy men in front of him. 

It’s not until he hears the word that he freezes. His heart stops. His blood runs cold. His ears start to glow red and he has to flex his fingers on both hands repeatedly to keep it together. He’s not felt like this since high school when he had to give his Valedictorian speech. 

“Maverick.” 

He didn’t know that the word alone would make his blood run cold, but it does. 

It’s then when he realizes that fuck, he should’ve allowed himself to feel nervous every once in a while because he’s not even sure what feeling he’s feeling right now is even called. 

He’s scared. He’s angry. He’s hurt. He’s saddened. He’s resentful, and he guesses that all of this can be added up and made to equal out to simply being nervous. 

Bradley figures that Maverick feels the same way too because it’s obvious that his gaze refuses to catch his the entire time he’s speaking. He hadn’t seen his Uncle Mav in years, and he certainly wasn’t planning on the first time he saw him being today of all days. 

It’s hard to believe that he was his stand in dad for so much of his life. He was the guy that attended his Kindergarten graduation. The guy who taught him how to shave his face and how to talk to girls. He was the guy who came to as many baseball games that he was able to fit into his busy military schedule and the guy who he practiced his Valedictorian speech in front of for weeks. He was the same guy who held him when his mother finally passed away and the same guy who let him sleep in his bed while he slept on the floor when he had nightmares after her death.

Maverick encapsulates what Bradley’s childhood was and even though he can’t help it and wants to hate him, he can’t stop himself from looking at his godfather with child-like wonder. 

But then Bradley shuts that down as soon as it enters his mind. 

Fuck that. 

He was Bradley then. He’s Rooster now, and Maverick had his chance and blew it. 

Pilots don’t get nervous because it can get you killed. But what they don’t clarify is that you can be killed physically or emotionally and Bradley is too damn prideful to figure out which one they really meant. 

iv. 

It’s been two days since (Y/N) found herself closing the Hard Deck by herself with the unwarranted help of Bradley Bradshaw. 

It’s been forty-eight hours since he flirted with her and offered to take her out on a date. It’s been two-thousand eight-hundred and eighty minutes since he smiled at her and asked her how old she was. And it’s been one-hundred seventy-two thousand eight hundred seconds since he laughed at her and told her that she was too young. 

And although two days isn’t a long time (unless you’re five years old and your perception of one minute is a literal fucking second) it feels like a lifetime and God, the counting and the flashbacks and the remembering has been eating her alive; even more so than her being bored. 

The embarrassment of her recent wet dream is all consuming too, but she knows she’s too shy to ever utter that admission out loud. It’s one less thing she has to worry about, but five new insecurities and emotions she has to face now. 

(Y/N)’s kept her eye out for Bradley the entire night. 

She had seen the familiar gang of Navy pilots come in. Hangman had come in and sat with her at the bar for a little bit, telling her about his day and throwing in some cheap flirtatious remarks here and there. She has half the mind to ask him where his friend is, but from the interactions between the two she had clocked from the corner of her eye two days prior, she knows better than to do so.

Jake would probably laugh in her face and accuse her of having some school girl crush on Bradley. The blond was relentless with his teasing, and if he had come across a weak spot, he would use it until the river of discomfort it caused the other person ran dry. 

“Don’t look so sad, pretty girl. I’m here now,” he had said, and all (Y/N) could offer him was a free beer and a soft smile. 

But that was two hours ago and the fleet of Navy pilots had long since left Hard Deck. Jake had mentioned something about early training tomorrow morning and how he had to leave so it left no surprise that once he headed out, everyone else who was in Miramar for the same mission followed. 

(Y/N) is slightly relieved that she didn’t have to face Bradley tonight. She knows that she has a tendency to ramble when she gets extremely nervous and the fact that she dreamt about dry humping him in the driver’s seat of his car definitely adds fuel to the fire of embarrassment that burns deep in the pit of her stomach. 

It’s a Monday night and the bar closes at midnight rather than its usual 1 AM. Aunt Penny had let (Y/N) close the bar by herself for the past two nights so when she had slipped out with some excuse about Amelia (which (Y/N) knows is bullshit and that her godmother was really going to visit Maverick, but nevertheless she doesn’t call her out on it) it was decided that (Y/N) was responsible and ready enough to close on her own. 

Even though the bar has been closed since midnight, (Y/N) can’t help but take her time shutting down for the night with hopes that the brunette pilot would show face before she turned the lights off and locked the door. 

The jukebox had been unplugged and the glasses had been washed and set out to dry. The bar top had been scrubbed clean and all the napkin dispensers were full. (Y/N) even went the extra mile and made sure all the bathrooms had soap and paper towel because she was that desperate for stupid Bradley Bradshaw to come in and kiss her breathless. 

She doesn’t think of herself to be a hopeless romantic, but she does have a tendency to hope for the best and sometimes the best isn’t realistic in the slightest. She would probably never see him again and he probably was turned off by how young she was. He was probably ready to settle down soon and get married and be a homeowner and have kids and the thought of something so permanent made (Y/N) a little nauseous. 

Sure, she wanted to be a wife and a mom and a homeowner but that’s some day and not any day soon. She hadn’t even gotten a chance to live by herself with no roommates yet, so how could she possibly be ready for marriage or kids? 

(Y/N) then realizes that she’s being extremely theoretical and that she should just turn her brain off and stop being delusional. Bradley Bradshaw was not walking through those doors tonight and Bradley Bradshaw was definitely not thinking about her the same way she was thinking about him. 

So as she scrubs the bar top counter one last time before she gets ready to leave, she hears the bell above the front door go off. She has half the mind to look up and to yell out that they’re closed, but she stays quiet. She figures the person who walked in would take the hint and see the bar basically abandoned and would turn on their heel and walk right back out. 

But when (Y/N) doesn’t hear the bell ding again signaling that the person had left, she puts the rag down and looks up. 

And holy shit, it’s Bradley standing right in front of her with his arms outstretched and leaning on the bar. 

He’s wearing a gray t-shirt with “NAVY” written in the middle and black running shorts. He has on Birkenstocks and his sunglasses are pushed up to rest on the top of his head. 

“Penny here?” he asks, “It’s kinda urgent.” His eyes look around, taking in the surroundings of the bar and fuck, he may be too late. Matter of fact, he knows that he’s too late. 

(Y/N) shakes her head. “We close at midnight during the week and it’s,” she looks at her watch, “Nearing one-thirty. You missed her by like two hours, Bradley. Sorry.” 

Bradley shakes his head and locks eyes with her. His eyes are filed with so much emotion and she can almost see his subconscious drowning in whatever sorrows he was battling with internally. He looks hurt, scared even. It was totally opposite the fire and childish twinkle they held two days prior as he mindlessly flirted with her when searching for his wallet. 

(Y/N) knows something had happened but she figures that it’s not her right to pry. She’s quite a private person herself and knows how annoying it is when people try and get into her head. 

Some things just aren’t for other people to know. 

“Hey, why don’t we go for a walk or something as soon as I close this place up?” she offers. 

She only does because she knows that he needs someone to talk to and something to take his mind off of whatever was troubling him, but she also does it selfishly; knowing that this was also an opportunity for her to get him alone and actually get to know who Bradley Bradshaw is. 

He offers her a soft smile. “Yeah. Yeah,” he says, wiping the corners of his mouth with his pointer finger and thumb, “I would like that. A lot.” 

(Y/N) offers a grin and a light laugh before exiting the bar and turning off the lights. He opens the door for her and she locks it, putting the keys in her car before they head out to the beach near the strip of buildings where the Hard Deck is located. 

The inky blue sky takes (Y/N) back to her rather embarrassing but hot dream about the Lieutenant and she feels her cheeks getting pink. She thanks God that they’re outside and that it’s dark and that he’s not really looking at her because her sudden flush would be hard to explain. 

While they walk down the beach they talk about any and everything. 

She tells him how she choked on a Lifesaver once in first grade and cried so hard that she threw it up. He tells her about how he sliced the back of his ear open in third grade from climbing on top of his kitchen counter and banging his head on the door to his mom’s spice cabinet. She talks about how she had totaled her first car when she was sixteen because she was riding an old lady’s ass and didn’t have enough time to brake before a turn. He tells her about the time he concussed himself from hitting his head on the glass of his aircraft because he wasn’t strapped in tight enough. 

The silences in between stories is comfortable and his voice soothes her. Her heart isn’t beating out of her chest like she thought it would be doing. She’s not anxious or panicked. She’s relaxed and she realizes then that that’s what Bradley Bradshaw’s aura does to her. 

They walk back to the parking lot of Hard Deck and he walks her back to her car. 

He opens her car door for her and she teasingly gasps, “Oh, what a gentleman, Bradshaw.” 

Bradley gives her a grin, “Can say my momma raised me right. Nothing but the best for you, chick.” 

Chick. 

It makes her tingly inside that he calls her that. It’s her nickname for him and although it’s kind of funky, it’s sweet, in a way. Well, she relishes in the fact that Penny calls her sweet pea still so chick can’t be so bad in comparison to that. Besides, what else did she expect from a guy who goes by “Rooster” casually? 

“Told you I wasn’t cheap, Bradley. None of this should be a surprise to you.” She smiles at him and he steps closer to her. 

He looks down into her eyes and his hands go up to cup the side of her face and for a second, (Y/N)’s heart stops. Is this really happening, or is this some plot to another one of her embarrassing wet dreams again? 

Bradley wants to kiss her. He wants to kiss her so fucking bad but it’s almost like there’s some invisible force preventing him from moving. He knows that that’s not true and that the force is himself because he tends to be his own worst enemy in situations like this. 

So instead he settles for an affectionate squeeze to the right side of her face with his palm. “I wish you weren’t so young.” 

And with that, he walks to his car and shuts the door, starting his car and sitting in it until (Y/N)  decides to pull out of the Hard Deck parking lot. 

He wishes she wasn’t so young and that he wasn’t so old as he drives back to his government supplied housing and little does he know is that (Y/N) lays in bed with a frown on her face thinking the opposite. 

#bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #top gun #top gun maverick #miles teller #mt #rooster bradshaw fic #rooster bradshaw fanfic #rooster fanfic #bradley bradshaw fic #writes #rooster

[valaenatargaryensdragon]

Hiii could you some breeding smut with prince consort aemond of drone with his wife ? Like they already have kids but he just can’t get enough of his ruler of dorne.😅

A/N: I hope you like it!

pairing: Aemond x Wife!reader

summary: breeding smut with prince consort Aemond of Dorne with his wife ? Like they already have kids but he just can’t get enough of his ruler of Dorne.

Word count: 1,9K

Warnings: Fluff, smut, breeding kink

Masterlist 1

Masterlist 2

You felt hot, way too hot, naturally in Dorne it was hot all the time but today it was exceptionally hot. You groaned trying to roll over in your bed to find a colder spot but was held back by someone. You cracked your eyes open to be met with the blazing sun of Dorne. You looked over your shoulder to find your husband sound asleep, is white-blonde hair around his head on the pillow and he was holding your tightly against his chest.

"Aemond" You tried pulling away from him but he only held you tightly. A sheer layer of sweat had covered the both of you throughout the night.

"Stop moving" Aemond whined with his morning voice. You sighed when you felt something hard rub against your thigh from below. Yet Aemond made no move to do anything except hold you.

"You seem to facing some trouble, husband" You teased flexing your thigh against his hard cock. Aemond groaned opening his eye to glare at you. His eyepatch long gone and the sapphire shinned under the sunlight.

"Stop that" He ordered. He pulled away from you laying on his back. The sun made his sweaty skin shimmer lightly. You turned to face him and placed a hand on his chest, he was much tanner now than when he first moved here to Dorne. It was not as smooth as it was now, he was cold and calculated shocked by the freedom you had in here. He scrunched his face in disgust at the fact that your father the prince will give you his position instead of your younger brother because you were older. However now after many years of marriage and several children and your father's passing he accepted your traditions and ways of life, he beamed with glee at the fact that your daughter Viselora will inherit the title princess after you.

"Let me help you" You whispered in his ear. You let your fingers run down his chest and laid it flat over his hard length. Aemond whined desperately rolling his hips to get some type of friction.

"The power you have over me woman" He groaned grabbing your hand to roll you over him to the other side of the bed climbing on top of you. You giggled wrapping your arms around him.

"How come you still look so beautiful even after four children?" he asked lips brushing against the skin below your chin. Small moans and heavy breaths escaped your lips as he began mouthing at the sweaty skin. He licked at the salty sweat not caring but instead loving it now that he grew used to it.

"What can I Ah- say the gods love me" You moaned. One of his hands trailed over to your breast giving it a small squeeze. He tweaked your nipple over the fabric of your very-very thin nightgown that was see through. His lips moved down to cover your other nipple, licking, bitting and sucking on it.

"Aemond-" You head fell back onto the pillows. He gave a harsh suck to your nipple imagining them filled with milk again. It has been two years since your last child was born, your only son named Rhaekar.

"I love you more" He raised his head up to look at you. He looked much healthier now than he did when he first arrived, his fave glowed and he no longer looked solemn and ready to murder someone at any given moment, he smiled more and he showed his softer side more.

"I know" You ran a hand through his hair. His eyes watched you reaction as he ran a hand up your though touching your hole softly. You huffed rolling your hips down. He always found a way to make you feel wet without even touching you.

"I wish to fuck a new babe into you" he admit moving to lean his forehead onto yours. His finger pushed inside smirking at the lack of a small cloth, you were used to his sexual appetite and have not worn underwear to bed for the majority of your marriage.

"What are you waiting for?" You asked teasingly. One hand into his hair and the other around his shoulder pressed him down claiming his lips with yours hungrily. He kissed you as if you water and he was a thirsty man who have been walking in the unforgiving dessert for the past at least decade.

"Fuck! You're so beautiful" He cursed pulling back to look at you. His hands scrambled to pull your night gown off and threw it somewhere in the room. His breeches followed your night gown, you knew the maids would know what you two did once they came to clean but you did not care, you never did.

"You are handsome as well, my prince, Prince Aemond of Westeros and Dorne" You ran a hand through his hair, it was untied as usual in bed an framed his face making it look almost like a mane around his head or a curtain shielding him from the world except you.

"The most handsome man in this world" You wrapped an arm around his shoulders pulling him closer. Aemond groaned leaning his head down to press desperate kisses to your throat.

"You have the tongue of a snake, my love" He jested against your ear. One of his hands moved down grabbing at his cock pumping it slowly making sure it was as hard as possible, only the best for his devoted wife.

"Only for you, husband" You whispered in his ear, tongue sooting out to lick a strip behind his ear making him shudder. Aemond let the tip of his cock run over the folds of your hole. You sighed in content rolling your hips up to meet his flesh.

"You surprise me, wife" He pushed himself inside of you. You mewled holding onto him tightly. His has always been too big for you. His lips mouthed at your neck slowly creeping down to the top of your breasts.

"Why so?-ah Aemond" You questioned. He rocked back and forth slowly trying not hurt you. One of your hands racked down his back as a punishment for making you wait for him to fuck you like you wanted, like you deserved.

"You could have a hundred lovers yet you chose to cum only on my cock" He answered. He pulled back to look down at your face. Your face grew red from anger at his words. You pushed him on his back much to his surprise making him yelp. You climbed on his lap literally shoving him inside of your tight pussy. He cried out holding onto your thighs in a deathly grip.

"Your cock is the only one I want in my orvorta" Private part/Pussy. His eye rolled back as you bounced up and down with no mercy on his cock. The sound of High Valyrian rolled off your tongue like a prayer, his lessons where not going in vain.

"My love-ah" Aemond was usually quiet in bed but right now at the sight of you on top of him, riding him like the dragon he was had him like a squirming teenager.

"Se mērī orvorta jaelan iemnȳ yno iksis aōhon, se mērī nūmo jaelan naejot plant iā riña iemnȳ yno iksis aōhon se daor else" The only cock I want inside of me is yours, the only seed I want to plant a child inside of me is yours and no else. Your hands ran up his chest feeling every muscle flex under your hands. Sweat doubled in amount on his skin making you want to lean down and lick it off him, you were twisted like that. Aemond's eye snapped open in shock when one of your hands wrapped around his long delicate neck.

"Gaomagon ao shifang?" Do you understand? You asked. He nodded whimpering below you. You leaned down claiming his lips and giving him space to move his hips against yours. he wrapped an arm around your waist holding up and jackhammered inside of you feeling his peak approach.

"Kessa qogralbar nyke hae se zaldrīzes iksā" Yes fuck me like the dragon you are. You cried in his ear. His cock filled you so good, it made you want to tear at your own flesh from how good it felt. You leaned your head between his neck and shoulder biting down on the flesh but Aemond did not care anymore.

"Iksan jāre naejot tepagon ao another riña" I'm going to give you another child. Aemond promised in the shell of your ear. He rutted inside of you like there was no tomorrow, like he will die soon and won't be getting to fuck your cunt anymore.

"I an feel you tightening around my cock, my love, are you close?" His voice sounded husky as he whispered in your ear. You nodded your head letting go of the flesh. Your eyes sparkled with pride at the red mark left behind and stuck your tongue out licking on the abused skin.

"Fuck, so good for me, princess" He moaned rolling you over. Your eyes met his the second your back was on the mattress again. His hand both of his hands beside your head hammering inside of you like there was no tomorrow. Your insides were twisting almost as if they were trying to make room for his cock inside of you.

"Aemond!" Your head fell back on the pillows eyes not daring to move away from his singular one and the sapphire, it looked like it was gleaming with pride, withe emotions. Your legs wrapped his waist locking just above his bottom pulling him closer if that were possible.

"So close" You heaved. Aemond smirked moving one of his hands between your sweaty bodies. You felt like your were crashing the second his pointer finger touched your clit. Your mouth fell open with a loud cry, one that you would hear in a brothel usually faked by one of the workers trying to get her costumers to cum but yours was anything but fake, it was real and the evidence was the wetness that coated the bed and Aemond's cock.

"So tight" The veins on Aemond's neck looked like they were on the verge of popping, his hips only stuttering when you squeezed him so tight, he was unable to move. You ran a hand through his hair and the other down his back letting some moans leave your lips at the overstimulation, you were trying to get him to peak faster.

"So good for me" He praised stilling inside of you balls deep letting his seed seep inside of your womb.

"You were so good for me as well, my Aemond" His heart soared at the nickname. He claimed your lips in a heated kiss as he pulled out of your cunt swallowing your gasps of shock. He pulled back only to watch as his seed seeped out of you. He ran the tip of his soft cock over the mess pushing it back inside of you and let his cock settle there.

"I love you" You moaned squeezing around him. He let his weight crush you but in a painful way. His head rested in between your neck and shoulder, arms laying on each side of you while he rested atop of you.

"I love you too" He whispered. You peppered kiss on his shoulder and neck, over any freckle you could find, peppering him with love and saliva the same.

"So much" He whimpered rutting his hardening cock inside of you. Aemond was determined to get you with child again. To show who you belonged to, who owned your body and heart. And you accepted with an open heart, open arms and legs and a weeping cunt, only for him.

#aemond imagine #aemond fluff #aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #house of the dragon aemond #aemond smut #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x oc #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #hotd aemond #hotd #hotd imagine #hotd smut #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #house targaryen #request #requests

[tkwrites]

Happy Birthday, Sarah

gif by @gabelandeskog

Title: Happy Birthday, Sarah - Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts (ofc)

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts

Warnings: None. Just some fluff sweet enough to rot your teeth out. 

Summary: Quinn is gone over Sarah’s Birthday. 

Word Count: 1,500

Comments: I don’t really have any, other than this turned out so sweet, and I love it.

If you liked it, please let me know! Your comments and questions inspire me to keep writing! 

Happy Birthday, Sarah

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

“Happy Birthday, Ms. Roberts,” Quinn’s doorman said as he welcomed her into the lobby. 

“Thank you, Reese. How’s your day so far?” 

“Oh, can’t complain. Lots of studying to do today?” 

“Yeah,” she took a deep breath, “I've got a test on Thursday to prep for.” 

“Well, good luck.” 

As she waited for and took the elevator, she wondered how he knew it was her birthday. Perhaps they had some kind of calendar that kept track of their tenants' important dates. When Quinn gave her a key, she had to submit her drivers license and complete a background check, which she thought was wild, but Quinn assured her was routine with the building. Even Petey had to do one when he stayed with Quinn for a week earlier in the season. 

When she scanned into the apartment, it became clear exactly how he knew it was her birthday. A bouquet of flowers sat in the middle of the dining room table. They definitely weren't there when she’d left the night before. Quinn must have had Reese bring them in that morning. 

Tears sprang to her eyes, and she laughed a little as she shook her head. 

The flowers were stunning. Pink peonies in perfect, full bloom. They were in an interesting square vase with some small white and purple flowers and fronds of a velvety looking greenery nestled in among them. They must have cost an enormous amount of money. Peonies weren't in season until later in the year and there had to be at least a dozen and a half in there.

Two small gifts and a card were in front of the chair she usually sat in to do her homework. 

Quinn was certainly trying to make up for the fact that he wasn’t here. 

They’d talked on the phone for a long time the night before as she lay in his bed. He'd sounded genuinely distraught to be missing her birthday. 

She assured him it was just another day, and they would celebrate when he got back. Besides, she was used to missing people on her birthday. 

Now, standing in this enormous apartment, she sighed, wishing he was here. Yes, she was used to missing people, and knew Quinn didn’t necessarily choose to be gone. Still, she would rather give back these beautiful flowers and any gift he may have bought her to have him here. 

At least she had dinner with Travis, Tanner and the kids, and then drinks with her roommates later on. 

She wiped her eyes and picked up the card. Her name was on the envelope in Quinns untidy, cramped handwriting. 

The card was simple. Nothing more than a folded piece of pink cardstock with ‘Happy Birthday’ written on the front in delicate gold calligraphy. 

He’d written in black ink on the inside: Happy Birthday, Sarah!  I hope you have a great day. I wish I could be there, but I’m excited to celebrate with you in a few days. Call me when you get this - Quinn

She wiped her cheeks again, clearing the mascara stains from under her eyes and facetimed him. 

Before she caught more than a brief glimpse of his face, the phone was wrestled out of his hand.

The camera was turned around as he protested, “Hey!”

She had to close her eyes as the picture shook with the ensuing scuffle. 

“Guys! Guys! It’s her!”

Someone finally gained possession and was pointing the phone around the bus. 

All at once, an entire team of hockey players was singing Happy Birthday to her. Some were standing out of their seats belting it out with all their gusto, and others were just singing along, not looking up from their devices. 

Sarah laughed, blinking back a fresh wave of tears. It sucked to have him gone, but this was sweet. 

They ended with a very off key “Yooooou!” and the camera turned back to the front, showing Elias with a teasing, mischievous glint in his eyes, “Happy birthday, Sarah!” he said. “Thanks for making Huggy bearable!” 

Lots of guys around them laughed, and Quinn took the phone back, shoving him out of the picture. 

“I’m sorry about that,” he said, switching the audio to his airpods, “Some of the guys found out it’s your birthday and, well, you saw.” He smiled through the bright blush on his cheeks, “Happy birthday, beautiful.” 

“Thank you so much,” she said, her voice a little wobbly. 

“Happy birthday, beautiful,” Brock mocked over the back of Quinn's seat, forcing his way into frame. 

“Get out of here, dick,” Quinn said, shoving him away. 

She heard someone cackle. 

“I'm sorry about them,” he said, blushing somehow brighter.

Sarah grinned, “it's fine. That was really sweet.” 

The guys had finally gone back to their own conversations. Elias had even moved to the row behind with Brock to give Quinn a bit more privacy. 

“The flowers are so beautiful,” she said. 

“Eunice said Peonies are your favorite.” 

“They are. They're so lovely.” 

“The florist put some other stuff in there. He said they're your birth month flower.” 

“I thought those were daisies.” 

He shrugged.

“Well, whatever they are, they're so beautiful. Thank you.” 

“You're welcome. Did you open your gifts yet?” 

Shaking her head, she propped her phone up against the vase and sat down.

Each gift was wrapped in shiny ocean-like blue paper with the kind of precision that told her someone else did it. Quinn would never have the patience to wrap gifts this tightly. 

One was long and thin while the other was more of a cube. 

She had a sudden, consuming worry that he had bought her jewelry, which seemed too formal for the fact that they hadn't even been dating for six months. 

Hesitation building in her stomach, she asked, “should I open one before the other?” 

“The long one first.” 

She could tell from the look on Quinn’s face that he just wanted her to tear into it, but she took her time, trying to calm her nerves. A flat white box greeted her. As she pulled the paper away and realized what it was, her eyes darted to her phone, where he was watching, smiling expectantly.

“Quinn,” she said, bringing a hand to her mouth, “this is too much.”

He shook his head and held himself back from telling her it wasn’t enough. “I know you have to keep your phone in your bag at the aquarium, so I thought this might help,” he said. “It’s the new one that’s really water resistant so you don’t have to worry about dunking it in the tanks.” 

It was like he knew she’d been lusting after an apple watch since they were released, but couldn’t justify the cost with the risk of water damage that came with her job.

“I know you don’t like the silicone bands, but that was all they had at the store,” he said. He’d tried to give her a silicone bracelet once, and she’d grimaced apologetically as she told him she hated the feel of them on her wrist. “I ordered some different straps, but they haven’t come yet.” 

Behind him, he heard Elias and Brock sniggering. He flipped them off with the hand not holding his phone and they howled with laughter.

When she looked back into the camera, there were tears in her eyes. “Thank you. I wish you were here so I could kiss you.” 

“I wish I was there, too.” 

The other gift was a set of airpods. Quinn insisted they came with the watch as a kind of promotion. She wasn’t totally sure if she believed that or not, but she was thankful all the same. 

“I really don’t even know what to say,” she confessed, “Thank you so much.” 

“You’re welcome. Happy Birthday.” 

They chatted for a few more minutes before the bus arrived, and Quinn had to hang up. 

Unable to help herself, Sarah googled the watch, and gasped when she saw the price tag. The underwater capabilities came with a hefty price increase of nearly three times more than a regular smart watch. 

Quinn! she sent him, This watch was $800! 

When her message came through, Quinn laughed a little. He’d been expecting it. 

Was this more than he’d spent on a gift for someone he’d been dating less than six months in the past? Yes. But things felt different with Sarah. He wasn’t waiting to see if they would work. He’d never felt like this before - like he knew they would be together for a long, long time. That first time he talked to her, it was like finding a sudden, missing puzzle piece in his life, and they had only continued getting better since then. 

Plus, he had the money to solve a problem he knew bothered her, so why not just do it? 

 I’d spend it again to make you happy. 

Happy Birthday, Sarah. 

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

#quinn & sarah snapshots #quinn hughes #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x oc #qh43 #vancover canucks #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey romance #quinn hughes oneshot #nhl oneshot

[toxicanonymity]

Woke up trying to be productive today but my brain is like "no, we will only think about raider!joel today <3". So that's how my day is going.

Could we maybe get a nsfw alphabet with raider!joel (or literally any/all of them 'cause I'm obsessed)? Or maybe some similar hcs?

Thank you for being that into raider!Joel! 🤍 I Included the few I did elsewhere. . .you asked first but the other one was easier lol. Did these pretty quick, might expand later. NSFW 18+ Misc

A = Aftercare - Will say you did good, help you get dressed. Calls you sweet pea / baby. These twisted moments of affection, combined with your orgasm hormones, bond you further to him. Messed up.

B = Body part - Loves to parade his raging erection.

C = Cum - Won't warn you. Typical load is 7-10 mL in 7-8 spurts. Has a vasectomy. May come on you or in you.

D = Dirty secret - IDK if he has any shame that would lend itself to having secrets. Maybe the fact that he was a father. He's buried his old life way down deep.

E = Experience - Expert and very smooth operator.

F = Favorite position - Gets off on making you choose. Otherwise, depends on the setting and situation. Does he need to show you off/possess you? Does he need to dominate you?

G = Goofy - He has sick ways of amusing himself and having fun. Like making someone jack off for their life. The first time he fucked you he made a depraved joke right after it. Very dark sense of humor.

H = Hair - Ungroomed, mostly black.

I = Intimacy - Not romantic or intimate but will praise you. And his possessiveness (ex: holding you tight at night, protecting you) could be mistaken for intimacy. It's not that he puts it on fakely - he's kinda treating you like a kitten.

J = Jack off - Before he met you, if he didn't find anyone worth fucking on a raid, he might have jacked off then come on someone.

K = Kink  - Major exhibitionist.  Had a good time cucking Jack, might try it again sometime. Likes how you look tied up (for your own good). Dacryphilia.

L = Location - Dirty mattress since day 1. But anywhere. May get off on making you choose this too.

M = Motivation - His own dominance turns him on. Including when you're vulnerable/pitiful.

N = No - Not a good guy.

O = Oral - He's good at it even if he's not trying to be (like erasing someone's touch). And yeah he does like his cock sucked, might fuck your face. Ultimate dominance.

P = Pace - He's concerned more with power than pace. Moderate pace but adjusts to whatever suits him in the moment.

Q = Quickie - Any time, anywhere

R = Risk - He's a walking risk. Idk if it would even occur to him whether something might be risky. He's so self-assured.

S = Stamina - Very high stamina.

T = Toys - Not unless you count restraints/blindfold. This is post-outbreak.

U = Unfair - Doesn't want you to come if you haven't been a good girl.

V = Volume - Moderate by default but as loud as he needs to be (depending on the setting) if he's showing his dominance or possessing you. Sometimes quiet just for BDE effect like when he fucked you in the van.

W = Wild card - He's like sugarcoated poison. He calls you pet names, praises you, but he's just vile and depraved. Has a gentle touch but also manhandles you and gets rough. And he'll get turned on at the most offensive times.

X = X-ray - 20 cm (8”). Proportional girth.  Middle is slightly thicker.  Kind of duo-toned, pink and tanner pink, tip is pink. Grower.  Balls on the larger side.  Relatively veiny. 

Y = Yearning - Very high. He fucked you three times within a few hours the day he took you.

Z = Zzz - Falls asleep very quickly if he wants to.

-

RAIDER JOEL MASTER LIST

Master List: TLOU - Joel Miller

-

All joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime   @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose  @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda

#raider!joel #joel miller hcs #dark!joel #dark!joel miller #toxicanonymity ☠️

[transformation4life]

Do The Chul Dance!

"Alright Darren, get ready!" The dance director shouted with his megaphone.

Darren the scrawny white man walked onto the stage.

"Okay Darren, we need you to do something like those KPOP stars now chop chop!" The director waved his baton.

"U-Um sir... I don't... watch KPOP-"

"Nonsense! Just feel it in your body!" The director interrupted Darren.

"N-Not to be mean sir but I'm just a an american white guy..." Darren isn't korean let alone someone that's ever left the U.S. so he wasn't sure how he could "feel it in your body".

Infact this whole gig was weird from the start. Darren was an amateur dancer and was trying to find a bit of work to fund his student loans and this job just came to him on a phone ad one day.

Dance like a star!

Get money and change your life!

K-Star~

The tagline was a bit weird but money is money. But now... he was at a loss.

"Now now darling, how about you put these on!" The director got out of his chair and handed Darren an impressive pair of shades with Darren reluctantly putting the eye covers.

"Let's take it from the top! Show your korean gusto, Darren!" The director shouted into the megaphone once more

"S-Sir... like I told you before I-I'm america-"

"What are you talking about my good chap? Being korean was part of the sign up process. You are 100% one!"

"But I'm not-"

"You are Korean. Always have been," The moment the words left the director's mouth Darren's new shades began to glow and Darren's body began to change.

Darren lost a bit of muscle as he became a bit skinnier while his face was restructured to be much more authentically korean with narrower eyes, a bit plumper lips and slimmer nose. The final physical change for now was Darren's becoming a bit tanner. Memories of being on American soil all Darren's life were replaced with memories of korean city skylines and immigrating at age 20. Despite it all he's somehow pretty good with english but still stumbles from time to time. Darren's mom was always enamored with american names so she named his son with one.

"Ah, right. So sorry! Don't know what came over me!" A korean accent quickly overtook Darren's former voice like it always been there.

"No worries no worries! Now you said your name was Darren correct? That's not a very korean name is it? Why did your parents choose it?" The director gave a curious smirk.

"Oh! Well my mom has always been fascinated with american culture so she named me something american so she felt like it was always a part of her life-"

"Good. Great. Fantastic even. Just one tiny problem with that. It says on this paper here your name is 황철순..."

"Hwang Chul Soon? Like the famous bodybuilder? Oh please the fact we're the same race is more insane than anything let alone me sharing the same name as him-"

"Your name is definitely 황철순," the shades glowed again as Darren's or rather Chul's timeline was changed to fit the director's vision.

Chul's mother never had a knack for american culture. Instead it was just pure coincidence that he would share the name of famous South Korean Bodybuilder Hwang Chul Soon. Chul felt like he never deserved the name and yet he still had it.

"Apologies. I slipped up again... yes... my name is 황철순... But can we get to the dancing now? You've been asking a lot of questions-"

"It's all part of our process for a perfect korean dancer, Chul! Just a bit more now!" The director smiled

"Okay... what else do you want from me?"

"Hmm... how well do you know your korean?"

"I was born and raised there so I would say it's about as perfect as it can be..."

"Excellent! How about your english? Doing good on that front?"

"My english? Not too bad... I do fumble a bit sometimes though,"

"그래서 당신이 말하는 것은 당신이 더 이상 영어를 몰라도 괜찮다는 것입니까?" (So what you're saying is that you wouldn't mind not knowing english anymore?)

"어… 뭐?" (Uh... what?)

"당신은 더 이상 영어를 모른다," (You don't know english anymore.) The shades shining glory returned and absorbed all knowledge of the english language from Chul. Despite immigrating to America he never quite figured out the language so he stayed in mostly korean immigrant areas leading to this korean dance company.

"...더 이상? 그래 내가 영어를 전혀 못하잖아..." (…Anymore? Well yeah I don't speak english like at all…)

"좋아요! 스타가 될 순수한 한국인!" (That's right! A pure korean that will be a star!) The director was being especially loud this time.

"어… 그래? 난 널 위해 한 번도 춤을 춰본 적 없어-" (Uh… yea I guess? I haven't even danced once for you-)

"나는 당신의 조급함을 이해합니다 하지만 여기서 거의 끝났습니다. 조금만 기다려줘 알았지? (I understand your impatience but we're almost done here. Just wait a bit for me okay?) The director gave a look that gave Chul chills in his spine.

"자, 당신의 체격을 어떻게 설명하시겠습니까?" (Now, how would you describe your physique?)

"오, 별거 아니에요 선생님… 저는 평생 체육관에 가본 적이 없어요. 황철순 같은 사람과 이름을 공유하는 것조차 의욕이 없었어요-" (Oh, it's not much sir… I've never been to the gym all my life. Even sharing a name with someone like Hwang Chul Soon I've just never been motivated to-)

"무의미한 말! 당신은 신의 체격을 가지고 있습니다! 누구나 당신이 되고 싶어할 것입니다!" (Nonsense! you have the physique of the gods! Anyone would want to be you!)

"부럽긴한데 근육이 거의없어서..." (I'm flattered but I barely have any muscle… ) Chul twiddled his thumbs in shame

"나한테 거짓말 할 필요 없어 철. 카리스마처럼 근육이 엄청나다!" (You don't need to lie to me Chul. your muscles are huge just like your charisma!)

"선생님… 저는 그 둘 다 가지고 있지 않습니다-" (Sir... I have neither of those-)

"신의 근육과 고기 가득한 근육과 HIGH 카리스마," (You have the muscles of gods and the pecs full of meat and HIGH charisma.) The shades shone like never before as Chul began to pack on muscle at an alarming rate.

First there was the massive biceps, then the faint appearance of a sixpack with Chul's back widening soon as his neck become thicker and his adam's apple more prominent. The star of his upper half began to show itself as his flat rack became massive chunks of meat that could rival the most gifted of women. Chul got a bit taller as his swishy pants rode up exposing the thicker legs that he just obtained. A smirk overcame Chul as his hairstyle become much more suave and he threw his lousy shirt side exposing his new muscle body and charisma.

"알아차리셨다니 다행입니다! 이제 충분히 말하고 더 춤추세요!" (So glad you noticed! Now enough talking and more DANCING!) Chul's new charisma immediately showed itself as Chul began to show his moves.

"내가 찾고 있는 바로 그 철! 나를 위해 밈 댄스를 해주세요!" (That's the Chul I'm looking for! Do a memey dance for me!) Chul nodded and began his routine.

"그리고…. 플렉스!" (And... Flex!) Chul walked up to the stage and flexed to the director.

"잘했어 철! 당신은 당신의 분대에 완벽합니다. 당신은 내일 시작합니다." (Great job Chul! You're perfect for your squad. You start tomorrow.) The director stood up and clapped.

"이런 기회를 주셔서 정말 감사합니다 선생님. 내일 봐요!" (Thank you so much for this opportunity sir. See you tomorrow!) Chul waved goodbye to the director and left the building.

With no one in the room the director began to laugh manically.

"Heh... another transformation complete I almost surprise myself with my power. I'm going to have the greatest bodybuilding dance group known to HUMANITY!" The director laughed even harder.

"Poor ol' Darren..." The director pulled up a picture of Chul or rather Darren.

"He doesn't know anything... how much happier he is now."

#race change #bodybuilder tf #chul soon tf #male tf #muscle tf #reality change #mind change #mental change #korean tf

[jungjungmochi]

How you met - The Group Chat

- BigT, Issacwhy, Softwilly, Yumi, Larrrycroft, Grunk

- Reader has no gender and is not descriptive in any way. Please imagine the reader as you wish!

- Grunk’s is pure fluff! And note there will never be smut! I will not overstep his boundaries with nsfw!

- Grunk’s name is in here but note that he really just prefers you calling him grunk! Only because he really only wants people close to him to call him by his name, so reader will refer and learn him as grunk.

- Reader is Isaac’s sibling! By birth or adoption is up to you!

⤓ Headcanon’s Down Below

BigT ((Tanner))

You met Tanner through Yumi’s birthday party

He would not let you back down from meeting everyone

It all started when Yumi had called you up to let you know him and his housemates would be throwing him a birthday party. Despite the desire to stay at home and enjoy yourself on a day off from work, you knew deep down, you in fact did miss your best friend, especially when he relocated to Austin, Texas. No denying it, you wanted nothing more than time with Yumi, life’s been boring without him and having him gone sucked. So when the agreement fell from your lips, you felt yourself not regretting the happiness in his tone. It was nerve wracking, you never met his housemates, this was a first but if Yumi seemed happy with them, that means they were good people, right?.

The drive was dreading, very but calling to take your vacation and just spend time with him, it was enjoyable. Yumi made it clear it was going to be late when you showed and there’s a chance his friends would be asleep but you couldn’t keep him up. “Just go to bed” you spoke as he sighed over the phone. “I can stay awake?” He raised a brow. “No it’s fine. Traffic is awful anyway. I’ll get a hotel, be there for the party, I promise.” You hummed. Yumi knew you were a bit stubborn and he never attempted you to be pushed to the edge of doing or agreeing with things. Which you enjoyed most when you two held small banters. And just like that, Yumi agreed and let you know you were always welcomed, hotels cost a lot and creeps were always around. So just to let him know you made it safely.

The stay there wasn’t bad, indecisive on what to wear to the birthday party, you decided not to show up and show out. Again, you didn’t mind but Yumi made it clear they’d be having the birthday party at the house, and had no intentions to relocate the party elsewhere so dressing like a star wasn’t entitled nor obligated. And with your best outfit on possible to at least look decent, it was time to show yourself at that party for the sake of your best friend.

“Y/n!” Yumi spoke loudly as he walked towards you, one hand holding a drink as he approached the car you just got out of, hugging him tightly back, you missed your best friends embrace. “It’s so good to see you again Blake!” You chuckled lightly. “Tell me all about it” he shakes his head playfully. It was nice to be back and around one another but of course, you knew you’d have to meet his friends eventually but again, you just had nerves, normal when it was around new people. “Come in!” He gestured, you could hear chattering and a bit of music, he meant it, you would in fact be stepping into the home.

With your best friend walking off to make conversation as his name was called, that’s how you found yourself alone, but only for a split moment till someone approached you. “Stiff much?” The person asked. Looking over at the voice, you found nothing but a guy standing beside you. “Oh. Well I’m pretty unfamiliar with this layout.” You spoke back with some hope your tone didn’t shake. “Oh no worries. BigT.” He held out a hand, looking down before your grabbed it with yours, giving a careless shake. “Y/n, drove all the way down here for Yumi.”. Tanner knew your name, Yumi never shut up about his best friend Y/n showing to his party. He was pretty aware of who you were. “Heard all about you. Get yourself comfortable. I’ll take you to meet the others.”

Tanner didn’t want you to feel like a stranger amongst them. You were a friend of yumi’s who took vacation days to make it to Texas just to be there. No way in hell would he waste your trip to be a stranger the whole stay. When he formally introduced you to the others, you realized they genuinely weren’t bad people and your nerves sort of washed away. But that didn’t stop you from spending some time with tanner before you got dragged off by Yumi to come check out something cool. So much for the fun you two were having.

Hours passed, people left the party and you wished them all a safe trip back home or wherever they’d be going afterward. You noticed the boys fast asleep, flushed face indicating some of them did some serious drinking. Gently placing the blankets on them to leave them to rest, you overlooked them, noticing tanner was missing. “You going?” Tanner spoke as you turned around. A smile on your face as you nod your head. “Yeah. I’m staying at the hotel in the meantime…” you shrugged. “You’re fine here.” Tanner nods his head. Though you knew the boys were playful, tanner couldn’t help but notice the drinking you had done and the sleepiness in your eyes. You were in no state to drive to a hotel. “Take Yumi’s bed, he’ll be asleep down here with the boys. I’ll show you to his room.” He smiled. “Thanks BigT…” you said as he chuckled. “Just call me tanner.”

Coming to Austin wasn’t a bad idea, considering you had time with Yumi, met his friends, and had the most fun talking and drinking with tanner. Who made your stay worth it.

Isaacwhy ((Isaac))

You met Isaac through your job

Upon meeting, Isaac stuck behind just for you

The boys had decided to film that day, making a blog for Willy's channel. Isaac tagged along with them since they would be going to eat and thankfully it wasn't as packed as they thought. When you glanced over, you took the sight of the table you would be serving, seeing if they were troublemakers you'd have to kick out or not. Thankfully though, they didn't bother people like most other young groups did when they came in.

You had approached the table and offered to get drinks for them, Isaac thought you were very beautiful when he first laid his eyes on you, you were a bit nervous but pushed past your nerves to tend to orders for the boys. Once you got their drinks down, you went to make sure it was placed, hiding the hue on your cheeks from the man that stared at you. Even if you couldn't fully see his face, he seemed to be a handsome guy and thankfully he and his friends kept it down.

"Are you boys ready to order or do you need more time?" you asked as the boys shake their heads, it seems they very much were ready for food. You checked every order they possibly made, Issac of course, deciding he would speak to you. "If you want...for the video we're making, I can make sure your face remains blurred?" He raised a brow. A little confusion happened, maybe the first ten seconds till it clicked they were vlogging. "you're all good, no worries." You shake your head. "Well, you guys heard it, Y/n is going to be serving the table," he said as you waved at the camera before clearing your throat. "I'll get the food for you boys already!" you assured.

And you did, you made sure they ate plenty, refilled drinks, and listened to them chatter at the table and share laughs. Sadly though, your time to hit up the masked man came to an end when you realized closing came around the corner. You didn't want to say bye to the boys since they made your night at work entertaining. What you didn't expect was the masked man, walking over. "Excuse me," he said as you turned to him with a raised brow. Not many people stayed around later than usual, so you assumed you charged too much or not enough. "I just...without the camera here." he sighed as you noticed he had something to ask. "Are you cool if I come back?" he asked. "If you boys like to film here?" You shrugged as he chuckled. "No. I mean just to come here and eat if you work here tomorrow again. just me, not my friends." he said. That's when you caught on to what he meant, he wanted to come back and eat so he could see you again.

"I don't work tomorrow. I'm sorry, it's my day off." you winced slightly as he nods his head. "Could I get your number?" he asked. "Without treating me to a date?" You teased. He chuckled as he shakes his head. "so?" he smiled under the mask as you nodded your head, taking out your phone so he could get your number. After the exchange, he noticed his friends waiting outside and they were ready to get home. "I'll see you another time masked guy!" you said as he smiled. "Just call me Isaac, Y/n," he said as you hummed. "Got it."

Softwilly ((Nick))

You met Nick through social media

And you two actually lived around the same area

You were a content creator yourself and usually when you posted it was either to update people about your upcoming plans or you posted gym videos, even going far as to encourage those around you. Often your streams did good and people would go to your latest post to check out every aftermath of a chill and vibrant stream you held. Which you didn't know would reach Nick, something about you spoke to him, in a way he couldn't let go of, he was intrigued but he knew his audience watched him. Some fans would put themselves in the spot to stop romance or a chance to connect, Nick knew if he followed, someone might mention it but again you were two creators, and this would be normal to do. So he did. He followed your Instagram and Twitter.

Upon some passing days, he would tend to like your latest gym post or stream post, even a random photo here and there. When you mentioned wanting to vlog with your home in Austin, Texas. Nick knew right at that moment you were possibly nearby somewhere, maybe even the same area, so he hit you up. Sitting on the couch and noticing it, you felt a bit nervous, usually, messages were with love or by haters, and often you would get the between deal. Or just creeps who troll online. Assuming that's what it would be, you wouldn't expect to see him in your messages and didn't waste a single bit of time replying to him either. The two of you hit it off and it became an instant-like thing for you both, you could hold a conversation and have no issues.

Over time, the two of you agreed to collab to surprise his viewers and yours, agreeing on where to meet and how to make the collab possible with both of your points of view you even found out that he lived nearby, so it became an even bigger bonus to spend time together. The two of you would finally meet right in town, a smile on his face. "Y/n!" he chuckled as you waved at the camera, walking over to him. You gave him a hug, one arm wrapped around you as he gave you a slight squeeze. "Good to finally meet you!" he chuckled. It felt like a dream come true to both of you. Finally being this close, face-to-face. Both of you wanted to keep a decent conversation on camera as you did off of it, and even went far to make the most of the vlog with the idea to go do something.

A large part of Nick had enjoyed what felt like years already with you. The two of you brought topics for your channel to discuss, laughed, and played around. Both of you go places together and just spend time as if there was never a camera involved. When it came time to split ways, you couldn't help but yawn. "We filmed today..." You chuckled as he nods his head. "That we did." he nods his head in agreement. "Even though it was our first time meeting, I did enjoy your company." you hum. "I enjoyed yours too." he looked over at you. Half of you wanted to spend more and more time, you were sad deep down that the day was going to end soon. "One more?" You opened your arms, and Nick nodded his head as he hugged you, sinking into your embrace. "Next time let's hang out...without the vlog." he said as you smiled. "yeah...without the vlog."

Yumi ((Blake))

Met Yumi through your best friend Nick who held a surprise party for your birthday

You two hit it off really well and Yumi liked your personality, a lot

“My friend is coming over tonight, don’t spoil it.” Nick said as he overlooked the boys who were ready to get it started. Nick had planned a surprise party for you at the house and the boys agreed to help despite not knowing much about you or what you’d like but thankfully Nick was able to get it perfectly prepared for you and tell them exactly what they needed to know. While you glanced at your phone, laying in bed. He hadn’t sent you a happy birthday message and it hurt because you instantly assumed your best friend forgot all about you. Wanting to sleep it away, you closed your eyes and decided a nap was better than nothing.

Time passed and you woke up to the sight of the sun going down, days almost over and you were thankful deep down it was ending. Grabbing your phone to glance at the time, you checked the countless miscalls and messages from Nick, apologizing and claiming he was super busy but he didn’t forget, some relief washed over you. That’s when you encountered his message telling you to come over so you can spend it together; thinking nothing of it, you were out of bed and getting ready to go spend time with him.

Arriving to see your best friend, you noticed the lights out and a small sigh left your lips, did they fall asleep already?. Either way, you weren’t backing down, you wanted an explanation. So marching to that door and opening it, you were going to yell out to Nick for how bad that hurt you but not before the lights came on and a large group of people wished you a happy birthday. “Nick!” You said as he hugged you tightly. So that explains a lot. “You are so lucky you had this party in mind! Cause I assumed you just pushed it aside.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Saved you from getting yelled at.” You giggled. “Well. Happy birthday! Let’s get the party started!” He said as everyone agreed.

With people enjoying themselves and Nick off talking, your face was a tint of red, the liquor setting into your system. You had no reason to be shy, you were actually enjoying yourself and you pushed all feelings out to feel good and happy. Isaac pointed it out that you were drunk, even giggling that you were a light weight but Nick alerted them you couldn’t hold much before you became that type of person. “Careful. You’ll fall back and hit someone or the floor.” Yumi spoke as he held your arm, guiding you to the kitchen. He was over crowded along with you and the kitchen wasn’t too full. “Y/n? Right?” He asked as you raised a brow. “Whose that?” You slurred as he chuckled. “You.” He said as you hummed. “You have a cute smile. So how do you know Nick?” You asked as you leaned against the counter. “I’m surprised we never met.” He smiled.

Yumi explained everything to you and a lot of what he said made sense, you two went from that to drinking together and doing something stupid. “His face is squishy.” You smiled softly as you squeezed Grunk’s face. He let out a laugh as Yumi chuckled. “Happy birthday to you!” You said as Grunk shakes his head. Moving from grunk you two had fun a large time of the night and you couldn’t recall ever having a bad encounter amongst the whole night but Nick knew you were enjoying yourself and that’s what he wanted.

With the party coming to an end, Nick couldn’t find you and you went searching for you to see if you left. But instead he found you out in the backyard, sitting by Yumi, he decided to give you two alone time, he’d have a talk with you later or by tomorrow. “Thank you.” You hummed as he raised a brow. “For what?” He asked as you shrugged slightly. “For wishing me a happy birthday. And helping nick fix up a party for me..thank you.” You hummed. Yumi watched as you laid your head against him, a small chuckle passing his lips as he let you remain passed out. “You’re welcome…” he soothes your hair. “You’re very welcomed.”

Larrrycroft ((Larry))

You met Larry during moving in

And when you two finally talked, everything went smoothly and just right

You didn’t always like the spotlight, or making the biggest deal out of things, so you hardly spoke to family about the big move to Austin. Sure, you were young but you and your friends were gonna be moving in together and it was all mapped out and going to plan so it seemed fine with you making the drive just so you can have a fresh start plus everything was talked about, how could you pass up the chance like this.

The U-haul was open and your friends were inside claiming bedrooms while you were sighing, the huff falling from your lips. You made this whole drive, got here late because of stupid traffic and they haven’t even come to help you. You glanced over at your neighbors before giving a small wave. “Sorry if they disturbed you with the yelling they were doing out here.” You apologized but the tall guy shook his head. “No worries, we came to see if you needed help?” He asked. “Uh…sure! Yeah! That would be great! Thank you!”

Thankful you were that your neighbors were helping you move every single bag and box of you and your friends stuff inside since you struggled with it a bit. It was going by very fast. “Oh cool! What’s this?” One of them asked as you glanced at what he held, a small chuckle leaving your lips. “My friends collect some weird things…I think it’s like something old. I’m not sure.” You shrugged. He nods his head as he clicked his tongue. “How old?” He glanced over at you as you smiled. “Honestly. She’s cleaned it but it’s had some dust on it so probably really old or the store is just dirty.” You two chuckled at your reply. It felt natural to have a talk, almost like you two had known each other already. “So what’s in your bag?” He asked as you sighed. “I hate to disappoint but probably not old collectibles with dust.”

You didn’t disappoint at all, you spent a lot of time showing Larry something’s you brought. His friends were smiling ear to ear, they’d tease him about this later for sure. You two held up in conversation for hours. “So your all housemates? Wow. Wanna exchange?” You asked as he shakes his head. “You’d hand them back over after an hour.” He said as you shake your head. “How bad can they be?” You asked as he smiled. “You’ll figure that out yourself.” He said as he took your bag. Your friends had been upstairs bickering and bantering on a room you’d sleep in but nonetheless it was fine. You had your room chosen.

“What are you even putting in it?” Larry asked as you sat on the floor together in your new bedroom, door closed as you went through some things. “Probably gonna decorate it a lot more than my last so it’s not so bland.” You shrugged as he hummed. Hours and hours passed, jokes and countless laughs, conversations about hobbies and such, it was all there. Your friends weren’t even minding it, assuming you were too busy, they did their own things.

It was now around four in the morning, Isaac grew concerned and went to make sure that Larry was okay since the lights were on in your room but no one was speaking and no noise was heard. He gently knocked on the door as your friend opened it, rubbing her eyes. “What’s up?” She whispered as she yawned. “Larry still here?” He asked as she shrugs. “You can check. Y/n’s light is on, she might know” she stepped aside. Isaac thanked her as he quietly made his way to the source of your bedroom.

When he opened the door, he found you fast asleep with Larry, heads laid back on the pillows you brought. It was a relief to Isaac that he was okay and he left you two to be alone and sleep, but not before he placed the blanket over you both, keeping you warm. The photo he had taken would be shown to tease Larry when he woke up and got home the very next day.

————————————————————————-

- Thank you for reading! Remember if you send in request, you can request three at a time before requesting more♥️

#the group chat podcast #streamer #x reader #gender neautral reader #female reader #male reader #non binary reader #BigT #isaacwhy #softwilly #yumi #larrycroft #grunk #youtuber #youtuber x reader #bigt x reader #isaacwhy x reader #softwilly x reader #yumi x reader #larrycroft x reader #grunk x reader #fluff #fanfic #headcanon #tgc x reader #fluff fanfic #twitch streamer

[queenaryastark]

So you think you find a post with accurate commentary:

Yes, this is true. Exactly zero members of House Martell and zero Dornish characters have any animosity toward House Targaryen. They rightly blame Tywin and Gregor Clegane for what happened to Elia. They also avidly support Targaryen Restoration, eagerly trying to marry Arianne to Viserys and then trying to marry Quentyn to Dany. They even speak positively of Rhaegar, who did not abuse nor abandon Elia. House Martell are among the Targ loyalists in Westeros.

Sadly they didn't stop there.

In short, this person, like the rest of the fanon crowd, did not read any of the chapters Aegon is featured in. They also don't seem to have read the books in general since we know that Rhaegar was anything but indifferent and scornful toward his son who he believed was a hero out of prophecy and gave him a king's name since he saw Aegon as the future king. Plus, anyone who has actually read Tyrion and JonCon's ADWD chapters where Aegon appears will know that Aegon is 100000000000% in as a Targaryen.

Aegon claims Rhaegar as his father by name and mentions Elia (not by name) in passing as part of his own supposed backstory. Aegon even asks for info about Rhaegar, but not about Elia.

He's also all in for the Targcest as he wants to marry Aunty Dany.

He refers to himself as a dragon and hopes to ride one.

He's also misogynistic toward women in power, which is very unDornish of him, but a reflection of non-Dornish Westerosi values.

Tyrion considers Aegon’s temperament as proof of his Targness. He also uses the lure of emulating Aegon I to manipulate the current Aegon into doing what he wants, which works bc Aegon is proud of his Targ heritage.

Seriously though...

Aegon mentioning Elia:

“That was not me. I told you. That was some tanner’s son from Pisswater Bend whose mother died birthing him. His father sold him to Lord Varys for a jug of Arbor gold. He had other sons but had never tasted Arbor gold. Varys gave the Pisswater boy to my lady mother and carried me away.” -- Tyion VI, ADWD

Aegon mentioning Rhaegar:

“Your father knew the dangers of being overbold.”

“Did you know my true father?”

“Well, I saw him twice or thrice, but I was only ten when Robert killed him, and mine own sire had me hidden underneath a rock. No, I cannot claim I knew Prince Rhaegar. Not as your false father did. Lord Connington was the prince’s dearest friend, was he not?”

Young Griff pushed a lock of blue hair out of his eyes. “They were squires together at King’s Landing.” -- Tyrion VI, ADWD

----

And then Prince Aegon spoke. “Then put your hopes on me,” he said. “Daenerys is Prince Rhaegar’s sister, but I am Rhaegar’s son. I am the only dragon that you need.” -- The Lost Lord, ADWD

The difference in how he talks about his parents couldn't be more different. This makes sense because he was raised by Rhaegar-loving and Elia-hating JonCon. Had Aegon been real and raised by the Martells, he likely would have cared about both of his parents and felt connected to both Houses he's descended from.

As someone who wastes a considerable amount of time on the content Aegon is featured in, I have to wonder why these people fixate on him. It reminds me of how Stansas use Jon while knowing exactly nothing about Jon Snow. They take the somewhat outward trappings of the character -- able bodied king candidate -- and project inaccurate ideas onto him. They should hate Jon bc he is sexist against women like their fav and has more sympathy for the grown man who married her than he does for his 12-year-old sister. Similarly, fanon!Elia stans should take issue with the fact that Aegon focuses considerably more on his father and being a Targ than he does on his "mother" who supposedly worked to save his life. As an actual Elia fan, I know I consider Aegon's apathy toward his "mother" to be a flaw of his.

#elia martell #aegon vi targaryen #rhaegar targaryen #asoiaf

[thesalemwitchtries]

Dreaming Of a Grave: Chapter One

Word Count: 1.5k-ish

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Named! Fem! Enhanced! Reader

Warnings: physical assault without any specific depiction, existential ruminating, mentions of a bad childhood, also apologies to people from nyc, I went once when I was 7 and my dad dislocated my shoulder pulling me out of the way of a truck that almost ran me over, I don’t really remember much else.

Masterlist

Thank you so much for reading! Any comments or feedback are much appreciated!

It was a small life that Charlotte Tanner had built for herself, but she loved almost everything about it.

Especially complaining. 

Char loved being jostled on busy sidewalks and watching weird trash float down the gutters when it rained. She liked the frustrated looks strangers shared when the train was late, despite the fact that it was “In-Transit”. 

New York was a great place for blending in, and people in the city loved to complain just as much as she did. It had so many things that she adored: weird, smelly, kind of terrible and nonetheless lovely things.

There were buskers playing instruments that she’d never heard of, in keys she’d never heard before, and the sound that neon lights made, and how she was a regular in more than one place. People knew her. Maybe not her name, but they knew her face and because of that Charlotte belonged. 

“Commiserate” had been the word of the day a few months after she moved to New York, and she adored both the word and the action. It was like a big mental shrug. Was she suffering? Did things kind of suck sometimes? Sure, but she wasn’t alone.  Someone was going through it right beside her, and had felt how she felt.

Well, maybe not exactly how she felt, but as close as they could get.

Ten years had passed since she came to be known as Charlotte Tanner. Now she was a Real Person, free from the monsters of Before, and safe from having to hide. Well, mostly safe. Char had documents now, in a special folder, and a bank account for money that she could earn.

As long as she didn’t make waves or commit crimes, then she never had to go back to being Six again, that was the deal. That was how she went from being alive to having a life to live.

Char had a place in the world now.

In the frozen aisle, contemplating her options for ten minutes before getting the same flavor that she got every Sunday— she belonged there. In line at the coffee shop, nodding a little too eagerly at a gray-flecked person griping over the prices, Char belonged there too. Complaining about the weather, taxes, and Daylight Savings Time, all with a quirk to her lips that she couldn’t fight down.

It was so wonderful being able to complain, having things to whine over that meant nothing in the grand scheme of life.

Since she'd once known misery and been unable to even speak about it, there was nothing Char loved more than making her discomfort known. Even undercut as her swearing may have been with the smile twitching across her cheeks.

Whining was a privilege to her, it meant that there was a better before and after, a more comfortable baseline to return to. 

It sucked stepping in a puddle and having to walk around in wet shoes all day, and she loved to whine about it, because almost every other day her shoes were warm, comfy, dry. She luxuriated in being able to take things for granted, just like people that learned how to talk and read before they were fifteen, and weren’t extra-mutated lab experiments. 

Char liked to play-pretend that she was a Normal Person with a Regular childhood, and the easiest way to do that in NYC was by voicing your complaints.

Icy rain slipped down her back because of some jerk with an umbrella? She’d say something about it, doing what she could to tamp down the cheerful tone. Door slammed in her face? Someone would get an earful of “how fucking rude”, even while Char’s spirits lifted at the reminder that people usually held them for her.

Everyday brought more opportunities to practice being grouchy, and the performance was becoming steadily more convincing.

When the long day of working, taking a whine-walk, and being a functional human was done, she got to hole up inside of her own apartment.

Char had rented it with her own money, filled it with stuff that belonged to her— that she liked and got to keep. It was the one thing that she wouldn’t complain about, even though the first two floors were filled with scary and smelly people, the elevator had been “under repair” for all 5 years that she’d lived there, and the garbage chute might have a dead body inside if the odor was any indication. 

How could she voice any faults in that? The one thing she’d wanted since she got Out and began her own life was a place of her own.

Inside there was a very round cat named Garbanzo, a workshop that she'd had built herself, and her first creation on it, her home-care assistant, Igor.

Her companions would tangle up between her feet as she walked into the kitchen for a Cup of Joe, Garbie crying for food and Igor reciting the weather report. Char would play music and watch tv and look at her collection of free art that she took from walls and cork boards, sitting on her couch that was mostly being held together by decades of cigarette ash. 

In her apartment she could watch steam float from her coffee cup and dance in the sun, and after a day of working, Igor would ram into her ankles until she made a meal. If she managed to ignore him, then one of her neighbors would be by, offering a plate of what they’d made. When she invited them to come in and chat they would, plopping down in the extra chair, giving Garbie a scratch and Igor an awkward pat.

People would ask about her day and talk about their kids and their hometowns, and she was their neighbor just as much as they were hers.

Sra. Elena in the apartment below hers insisted that Char visit once a week. Such visits involved Elena sitting in a chair across from Char and painting colorful stories about her life while they ate pastries that she didn’t dare ask the names of. It was considered strange to ask about things that were Common Knowledge, and being strange meant people looked for other ways that you might be different. 

Charlie didn’t want to give anyone a reason to do that, especially not here, if they did she might have to leave her hard fought haven. With that fear dangling over her head, Char did the best she could to stay within the normal bounds of strangeness that everyone was allowed to have. 

Mrs. Hernandez down the hall had said there was nothing wrong with being “a little eccentric”. Charlie had responded with a nod and pleasant smile, and searched for the definition the second she got home. Eccentric was one of the rules that she lived by now: be a little eccentric, but never too weird.

Another one was to never take her home for granted. It was a common theme in the media she consumed that people lost the things that they took for granted, and Char couldn’t let that happen.

So complaining was reserved for out on the streets, and her apartment was for washing lasagna from the tupperware that belonged two doors down and waving as she passed people, chuckling about the mailman who was always mixing up the boxes.

This was home, and no matter if she was scared or sad or lonely, it greeted her every morning just the same. Char was grateful just to have this place and the future it represented.

Her apartment was for being herself, and in love with all of the new things that she experienced every day. Warmth, happiness, and security reverberated off of every surface, blanketing her on both good and bad days.

Not once had it occurred to her that anything might happen to it.

Of course she didn’t expect to live there for the rest of her life, but she was Charlotte now. As long as she kept off of specific radars, no one had a reason to come looking for Six anymore. Char had thought that she already knew the dark corners of the world, that her abilities would shed light into them and keep her safe. 

That morning, Igor had informed her of “Hubris”, the newest word of the day. It was a noun, with the meaning: overbearing pride or presumption; arrogance.

It was the fatal flaw of pride and arrogance against the gods that brought tragedy to the characters of Greek plays.

When afternoon had arrived with unwanted guests, and her handmade art gallery was smashed in. When Garbie hid deep in her closet and Igor backed into a corner, Char remembered the word of the day. It stuck in her mind as her home was trashed, when they threatened to destroy her research. “Hubris” bobbed through her head while she tried to shield her work, when the two men told her to get out of the way, and it came in the space between each flash of pain as she was made to move. 

The workmen were long gone by the time Char peeled herself off of the kitchen floor, the ice cream in her freezer had begun to melt, and she thought of a few ways to use hubris in a sentence.

#slim ficc #matt murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #matt murdock #daredevil #daredevil x y/n #daredevil x you #daredevil fanfiction #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock fanfic #doag #dreaming of a grave #enhanced!reader #matt murdock x enhanced!reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #daredevil x female reader #matt murdock fic

[im-captain-basch]

What would be your voice fancasts for your version of Donkey Kong/Donkey Kong Country franchise?

Fun fact: the reason I never answered your DM to me with this question is mostly because I was trying to figure out who would be best for who, but also because I was trying to decide if I should make this a public thing or not, so thanks for helping make that choice. XD

I know this says fancasts for my version, but I went more of a "general voice headcanon" route for most of these. Some also have the actual fancasts, or at the very least the people I wouldn't be upset about having be the VAs even if the voice winds up different from what I hear in my head.

I could really only figure out the Kongs, so uh... Ye. Also, all the underlined names are linked to pages to see more of the stuff they've done!

DK: Mark Fischbach. Zero rhyme or reason, other than I spent a full year drawing practically nothing except DKC characters set to GMOD moments, mostly Markiplier's, so now it's all I hear. However, I would not be mad if Richard Yearwood reprises the role (or even Sterling Jarvis).

Diddy: Ben Schwartz. My Diddy is more teenager-adjacent than most people's probably is (around 14), and I'd be lying if I said my hyperfixation with DuckTales 2017 a couple years back didn't have anything to do with that.

Cranky: This one is surprisingly hard to pin down. Here recently I've been imagining him more with Keith David's voice, but in the past I've also imagined David Tennant, Bernard Cribbins, and Aron Tager (his VA in the cartoon), the latter two of whom have both sadly passed in the last couple of years. I'll also happily take Bill Farmer, tho. For me it all depends on the tone and other factors of the situation presented (eg, an AU, the actual game series, others' interpretations, etc).

Funky: Gotta still be Damon D'Olivera, his VA from the cartoon, but I wouldn't be against Phil LaMarr or Greg Eagles voicing him either.

Candy: I do not hate Joy Tanner's voice for her in the cartoon at all. In fact, like Funky, it's mostly all I can hear for her. If I had to choose someone else to fill the role, it'd probably be Jennifer Hale.

Dixie: I think I had the most trouble with her surprisingly. I didn't necessarily like or hate her voice in the cartoon, but I have to go with Mae Whitman on this one. I was thinking along the lines of how Amity from The Owl House sounds, if you wanna know the thought process.

Wrinkly: Wendie Malick is the only voice I've really actively pictured for my specific version of her. The second I heard the line "Wait---those are MY dumb kids!" in The Owl House, my brain has never let the idea drop. However, if there ever actually is a show version of the DKC series that included her, I would not be against Tress MacNeille being her VA.

Swanky: Will Arnett is just how I hear him by default (I blame DK Vine in part). IDK, similar reasons to Diddy in that it has to do with other fixations of mine colliding into my brain. However, here recently my brain has also been tickled by the idea of James Monroe Iglehart being his voice in a version of the show that actually uses him.

Kiddy: OK, so y'all know how my brain runs. Sadly, sometimes I forget about him. However, I feel like Dee Bradley Baker is a safe bet.

Lanky: Rob Paulsen. IDK, even his normal voice just works.

Tiny: Kristen Schaal, solely because sometimes there's moments of her that cross my mind that make me go "Oh that's Louise Belcher (or Mabel Pines) vibes."

Chunky: Of all the actors, voice or otherwise, I've dug through today to find voices for characters I otherwise couldn't picture... I'ma have to give Chunk the monk Richard Horvitz. It also helps that this is literally one of those VAs I grew up hearing, so I can imagine the role working well, although other VAs mentioned throughout this list could potentially also work well.

Originally the Kongs from the actual DKC series proper is all I was gonna do for now, because it's late and brain hurty, but y'all know me a little better than that. I've got at least two bonus people for y'all.

K. Rool: Similar to a couple of characters above, I'd love it if Benedict Campbell could reprise the role, as he's literally the only voice I've been able to hear for him for years. However, that being said, there are a few others I will accept in his place, being Mark Hamill; Keith David (mentioned above); Clancy Brown; and Alex Hirsch.

DK Jr.: You said it was a fancast for my version, so while I know some people think Junior and our DK are the same person, in this instance I don't. I've racked my brain for a while trying to figure out who I best hear as his voice, and I had songs from a certain Disney animated show playing on loop last night and anyway, long story short, Jeremy Jordan is the headcanon voice for my version of him.

#alex speaks #asks #yourstrulylightstar283 #fun fact: this took me hours to do because I got lost in bill farmer's filmography #donkey kong #donkey kong country #anyway did y'all know ben campbell was also the voice of papa bear in the berenstein bears because i didn't #headcanons #headcanon #why alex hirsch? because why not #anyway i didn't wanna put him in the list because he's not really a character canon to dkc but asari is either rob gavagan or b dylan holli

[oinkz]

off season

— something about waking up to oikawa after a long season makes your heart so full… makes you want him close first thing in the morning. (f!reader)

— tooru fingers you first thing in the morning <3, so so sappy, vanilla, finger sucking, 1.7k words, 18+

Oikawa Tooru has had the world at his fingertips this September, cheers screaming his name from all over the court and on national TV, and words of praise from reporters, articles, and whatnot. It’s beautiful, watching his dreams come into fruition, watching him on a stadium screen, searching for you in an endless sea of people after the final point. Watching his eyes come in contact with yours, how they light up once they’ve found you.

You. You. You, of all people.

What’s even more beautiful though, however, is the sight you get to behold the morning of every off season. Tooru is not the same as he was when he was 18 - he’s buffer, tanner, and his freckles have expanded past his nose. Yet funnily enough, he’s also a bit softer. He’s become… less intense.

Over the years, you’ve watched him sleep countless of times, watched his eyebrows relax in his slumber. From furrowed to loose. To focused to secure.

He’s grown to be so terribly beautiful and you’re so terribly lucky that your eyes sting a little. You can’t recall a time where he wasn’t yours, where he wasn’t the first thing you searched for every morning.

Where he wasn’t the first thing you watched every morning.

Gently, you push your chest closer to his bare one. When he doesn’t move, you take it as a signal to reach out and cup his freckled cheek. It’s cold to the touch, so terribly deprived of touch all night, you think. Poor little thing.

Despite just waking up ten minutes ago, it doesn’t take you much strength to lean over and kiss his cheek. In fact, you’ve been aching to kiss him all of those ten minutes... You would kiss him in your sleep if you could.

(You probably do.)

You take your sweet time kissing his face, running your lips across the expanse of his freckles and his lightly sunburnt nose - which you linger on. For someone like him - someone with a five step skincare routine - it’s unusual to see him with a sun burn.

Perhaps the busyness of yesterday’s game caught up to him.

But he’s done for the season, and therefore he’s no one else’s but yours. Not even the sun can get him now.

So you kiss and kiss, murmuring ‘I love you’s’ and grinding up against him till he absentmindedly reciprocates, grinding his hips with yours. Even half asleep, he’s perfect. So eager, so hopelessly in love with you the way you are with him.

“Wake up,” you whisper, lips hovering above his. “I miss you.”

He hums, arms tightening around you. “Five more minutes…”

You pout. No fair. He’s been sleeping for almost nine hours.

“Pleeeeease? I want to kiss you. And touch you.”

He’s laughing but you’re not amused, not one bit. You’re terribly lovesick and want an out.

All this grinding doesn’t seem to phase him the way you want it to affect him, either. He’s definitely hard - as expected - however, the fact he isn’t already leaning over to kiss and ravish you is a crime.

“Please, Tooru, please,” you breathe out. “Miss you so much.”

He grins, and your heart does a somersault. “Missed me? We hung out yesterday.”

You shook your head. “Not enough. You passed out the moment you got home…”

You’re definitely aware that you sound like a brat right now, but you’re lucky to know that it eggs on his ego. Maybe you’ll get him back for teasing you one day, but now, you’re just putty.

Relief floods your senses when he doesn’t wait a second any longer. You find his lips on yours, the warmth familiar and new all at the same time. Perhaps being so busy was a perk in its own way - every kiss felt like the first. But it was hell, feeling so much for him and not having him around enough to show him.

Legs shuffled and hips gently thrusting as he kisses you, you can feel your heat, desperation, and love grow even more fervently all at once.

Tooru never fully pulls away from you, either. Instead he kisses your face the way you did with his. And you welcome every bit of it.

“I love you,” he tells you firmly. Kiss. “You’re so beautiful.” Kiss. “I’m sorry I haven’t kissed you properly in a while.”

“You are so, so, so important to me,” he says, before kissing your lips again. You don’t mean to, but you whimper.

Being the shithead he is, you can feel him smile against your lips. “You like that shit, don’t you? Like when I tell you how much I love you?”

“Of course I do…” you reply, bashful.

The edges off his lips soften, his teasing smile turning serious.

His fingers trace along the hem of your (technically his) T-shirt, pupils dilating as he stares into you. He doesn’t even have to say anything for you to nod frantically, guiding his fingers to pull your top over your head and off your chest. Not even a second later, your panties are off, along with his boxers. It’s so freeing - to feel his bare chest without any barriers, all his skin mixed with yours.

You miss his warmth when he slightly pulls away from you, but you know it’s to look at your naked expanse. The intensity of his gaze makes up for the coldness of the room. Your body feels like its on fire when he looks at you like that.

“You’re unreal,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you. “I’m so, so lucky.”

Swiftly, he lays you on your back and kisses your lips over and over, his hands smoothly gliding across your torso like your skin was inviting his touch. And take the invitation his hands did, toying with your nipples.

He hums with you, letting all your pleasure become his. He’s enthralled by how amazing he feels without you even having to do anything. His cock is painfully hard, deprived of your warmth to soothe it.

Even with his busy schedule, he still has urges… still gets hard at the mere thought of you. But with strict practice hours running late, most of the time, you were asleep by the time he came home.

Touching you alone right now was heaps more satisfying to him than masturbating in the shower. This was you, the absolute love of his life. And fucking hell, it would be a crime against humanity to not make love to you with all his might - sore muscles or not.

“What do you want me to do, baby?” He coos adoringly, watching your expressions intently like they were most heavenly sight on earth. “Tell me so I can make it up to you.”

You don’t even hesitate. “Fingers. Inside me.”

Your message was crystal clear, however, being the way he is, he doesn’t miss an opportunity to mess with you. Ever. His fingers play with the corners of your mouth before prodding your bottom lip down. “Inside here?”

Tooru doesn’t give you a chance to answer because your lips look so terribly lonely without his on them - they desperately need something to wrap around. He smirks as he inserts two fingers into your mouth, drowning out every little noise you make.

“Pretty girl,” he says, the glimmer in his eyes uncharacteristically soft and gentle as he thrusts his fingers in and out. “The prettiest girl in the world…” A whimper fights its way out of your throat as you begin to follow his orders.

This wasn’t exactly what you wanted, but at this point, you’ll take anything from him. It doesn’t take you long to get comfortable around his long digits, enough so you’re able to eagerly glide your tongue around and in between. You’re a marvelous sight to see, sucking on his fingers like you’d do with his cock.

What an angel.

Quickly, he replaces his fingers with his mouth. He doesn’t fully pull away when he tells you, “Cuddle up to me - need to have you close when I finger you.”

So you do. You even lift your leg up to give him full access to your cunt.

“Good job baby,” Tooru praises, a breathtaking smile on his features as his fingers part your pussy lips. The way the cool air strikes the heat of your cunt makes you hiss.

His fingers lightly brush the inside, just to get a feel for how wet you are. This isn’t the first time he’s had his way with you, but every single time, it’s a pleasant surprise how eager your pussy is. Most times, you don’t even have to tell him you love him - he just knows. As cliche as it is, he really does believe your body was made for his loving. All his for him to sink his fingers into.

He does just that, allowing the same two fingers that were just exploring your mouth to push themselves inside your needy hole. With that, the ache between your legs is all of a sudden alleviated. Hell, he’s even better than you remember.

“Jesus,” he breathes shakily, unmoving, reveling in the way your heat feels around his digits. “You’re so wet.”

It’s relieving, but nowhere close to enough. You push your lips to a pout. “Move, dammit.”

A laugh rumbles out of his chest. “Okay, okay.”

First, though, he uses his free arm to pull you impossibly closer to his chest, his lips over your temple as he begins to thrust in and out. The pace is slow but deep. Agonizing but sensual all at once.

“God you’re so pretty,” He whispers, lips against you like he wants all his praises to go through your skin and into your heart. He wants to praise you till they’re written into your soul.

Just as he brushes up on your g-spot just like how he knows you like it, he pulls away to watch your expression bliss out. You cry out, and he rubs up against your sweet spot just to watch and hear your pleasure all over again.

“Tooru, there!” You plead, and you don’t have to ask him twice - he’s already at it.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says into your ear. Kiss. “I’m so incredibly lucky.” Kiss. “I love you.” Kiss. And repeat.

He’s going to do this all season, he thinks.

#oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #ok this was gonna be like a full thing like with BLOWIES and SEX #but i wrote this months ago and i just cant finish 😭😭 #but idk? it's cute & sappy and i just love him sm

[wordspin-shares]

Chapter summaries for those following the story on [FFN] or [AO3] who wish to refresh their memory due to my infrequent updates. The list will be updated whenever a new chapter is posted.

Chapter 1 Summary

On the first day of the new school year at Mystic Falls High School, 28-year-old art teacher Claire Duval and her class briefly meet an intriguing stranger, though his identity remains a mystery to all. On her way home, Claire finds a stray kitten outside the Mystic Grill and adopts it, naming it Cicero. That night she has a vivid nightmare about a girl attacked in the woods, and although she can't recall much, it leaves her shaken.

Bits of the nightmare worm into her consciousness the next day, and after school Claire visits Sheila Bennett to talk.

Chapter 2 Summary

Claire hears of Vicki Donovan's being attacked by a wild animal during the annual Back-to-School Party the previous night. She doesn't have time to dwell on the fact, as her free periods are taken up by parent-teacher conferences. She meets with both her friend Jenna Sommers and Carol Lockwood, to discuss Jeremy Gilbert and Tyler Lockwood respectively. After school she meets up with Jenna and they go to the Coffee Ground, where Jenna expresses her worries about Jeremy.

The next day finds Claire in a very good mood, something that the school's Italian teacher remarks upon. After taking Cicero to the vet, Claire goes to the Night of the Comet Festival, held in the town square after dusk. She takes to sketching the scene and people around her. Leaving the celebration, she visits her father's music teaching studio nearby, climbing to the roof to watch the square below. She calls her sister who lives in Baltimore, and as the two talk, Claire feels the energy that had fueled her during the day return. She begins waltzing alone, but stops abruptly, getting the sensation someone is watching her. Seeing no-one, she sits and sketches for a while.

Chapter 3 Summary

Claire has another dream of someone being attacked, not in the woods but in an open space, which leaves her shaken. This time flashes of the dream revisit her while she is teaching, visibly affecting her to the point of her students noticing. During lunch break she is told that the new student and football team wide receiver is a distant relation of one of the Founding Families of Mystic Falls, the Salvatores. That evening as Jenna's niece Elena invited her friend Bonnie and her new boyfriend Stefan to dinner, Claire and Jenna have a movie night at Claire's house, with Claire cooking.

The next evening Claire goes to the first school football match of the season, which is ultimately canceled due to history teacher and football coach William Tanner's being attacked and killed by a wild animal in the high school parking lot. The attack brings fragments of old memories to the forefront of Claire's mind, and she goes home in search of the boxed history notes of her mother, who is a historian researching Mystic Falls. She finds newspaper clippings concerning old animal attacks in town and remembers that her grandparents had found one of the victims in 1953. She also finds mention that Thomas and Honoria Fell were killed by a wild animal in 1864. The first doubts concerning the true nature of the attacks enter her mind.

A little over two weeks later, attending the Founders' Party at the Lockwood Mansion, Claire catches a brief glance of someone watching her as she dances with biology teacher Martin Cott, but when she looks again, no-one is there.

Chapter 4 Summary

A couple of days later, Claire takes Sheila to Wickery Pond for the latter's birthday, and they talk about Claire's dreams. Two days later, at the high school car wash fundraiser Claire sees Bonnie unknowingly use magic on a fellow student, and afterwards Sheila calls her to confirm a vision she had. That night Claire has a very vivid dream of a man looking for something in the woods. He comes upon a young man and a girl, shoots the man and raises what looks like a piece of wood over his heart. The dream shifts and Claire realizes there is a third man there, one she thinks looks somehow familiar, and the girl is now bent over a body. After suddenly jolting awake, Claire spends the day on edge, and then hears news of three bodies found burned beyond recognition in the old cemetery. She begins thinking that there is something off about the explanations given for this occurrence and the previous animal attacks — both recent and old. She recalls something her great-grandmother said, and the realization shocks her.

The rest of October passes without incident, the only news being Vicki Donovan's and Logan Fell's leaving town. Much of Claire's free time is taken up by preparations for the high school Halloween Party. She attends as a chaperone, manning the outdoor punch bar. Near the end of the evening she bumps into the stranger who had watched her class on the first day of school and feels a chill spread through her. An old conversation with her grandmother comes to the forefront of her mind, and realization hits once more.

Chapter 5 Summary

The next day Claire tells Sheila of the previous night's encounter, also telling her she feels something's going to happen and that she doesn't want to be a part of it. The end of the month is highlighted by the arrival of the new history teacher, and at the beginning of December Claire runs into a newly returned Logan Fell. The meeting leaves her on high alert, but after seeing him at the high school's Career Night, she is afterwards told by Sheriff Forbes that he is going out of town again.

Two days later, a distraught Jenna tells Claire that Elena found out she is adopted and is angry at her for not sharing the fact.

Chapter 6 Summary

Chaperoning at the school's Decade Dance, Claire learns that the stranger she had been crossing paths with since the beginning of the school year is Stefan Salvatore's older brother, and realization comes once more.

Later that week, she has a recurring bad dream featuring Sheila and goes for an early morning jog to clear her mind. The sense of foreboding doesn't leave her even after Sheila reassures her she is fine. Two days later, Bonnie calls her to tell her Sheila has passed away.

At the funeral reception, Bonnie gives Claire a silver four-leaf clover pendant and a note from Sheila. Claire recognizes the pendant as the one belonging to her grandmother which she had given to Sheila's mother years before. She recalls she had never seen either of them wear it. Bonnie tells her the pendant was meant to return to her.

Claire decides to begin wearing the pendant on her birthday. On that same day, her sister tells her she is pregnant. Claire celebrates her birthday at the Mystic Grill.

A few days later, at the Founders' Day Fundraiser and Bachelor Raffle, Claire finds out Damon Salvatore's name.

Near the end of January, while on a long walk at night, Claire is attacked by a vampire close to the woods. She escapes, running into Damon. When the vampire approaches her again, he bursts into flames and dies. Claire's eyes take on the hue of fire, revealing the fact she is a witch.

Damon invites her to his house to get cleaned up. Once there, they begin talking, and he tells her the vampire who attacked her was one of the twenty-six trapped in the tomb under Fell's Church. It is revealed that Claire has known about the supernatural in town, and she tells Damon that only Sheila Bennett knew about the fact that her father's family are witches.

Chapter 7 Summary

Claire and Damon meet again at the Founders' Day Kick-off Party, where Claire realizes that Damon and Stefan are the Salvatores from 1864, as well as that Damon was responsible for many of the deaths attributed to animal attacks throughout the years. The week following the party, Claire is kept busy preparing for the Founders' Day Celebration.

She and Damon meet a third time at the Miss Mystic Falls Pageant, where Damon approaches her by saying the tomb vampires have left town. Wanting to keep a sense of normalcy to her life, Claire tells him that she doesn't need to know any details. Further conversations lead to her to gain knowledge of Ric's history with Damon and his being a vampire hunter, Isobel Flemming's being turned into a vampire by Damon, and Stefan's addiction to human blood.

A week later, Damon finds Claire's house by accident. They begin talking, and she invites him inside, where they spend hours conversing about both supernatural and non-supernatural topics. Cicero does not take a liking to Damon.

Before the Founders' Day Celebration, Claire has a dream about people and fire in a dark room. At the celebration she sees people crumpling to the ground for no apparent reason, and the sheriff's deputies rounding them up. She recalls what Damon had told her about the Gilbert device, and her dream, but reasons with herself that the first had been deactivated and the second was nothing like what she was seeing at the moment, and ultimately leaves. When she goes for a late-night jog afterwards to calm her mind, she comes upon him, but he is unwilling to talk about what's troubling him.

That same night Claire has a dream of Damon killing Jeremy.

#fts headcanon #fts-summaries #tvd | from the sidelines

[ofwishfulthinking]

if you’re hearing HAPPY PLACE by LYRIKAL playing, you have to know ANTOINE ‘TONY’ FORTIER (HE/HIM; CISGENDER MAN) is near by! the 31 year old CASHIER AT COMIC QUEST has been in denver for, like, ONE MONTH. they’re known to be quite FICKLE but being EMPATHETIC seems to balance that out. or maybe it’s the fact that they resemble DREW RAY TANNER. personally, i’d love to know more about them seeing as how they’ve got those HAIR DYED PINK, CHIPPED NAIL POLISH, AND CASUAL AFFECTION vibes. and maybe i’ll get my chance if i hang out around the DOWNTOWN DISTRICT long enough!

Details:

Full name: Antoine Javel Fortier

Born in California, USA to Edgar Fortier (shout out to the people who were here before -- now you get to see a second gen Fortier) and Michelle Benoit

Family history: the Fortiers are a well known family in Southern France due to the international success of their wineries and wine label. As such, the family has amassed a sizeable amount of wealth. In addition, Edgar Fortier founded Sun Wukong Personal Security, Inc., a company which provides personal security services to the rich and regular alike.

Antoine has never wanted for anything in life. Between his parents, his father’s sister, and the Sun Wukong crew (who were more family than employees), he was a coddled pampered child.

Though gentle and empathetic, Tony has a mischievous streak that’s a mile long. He finds himself pulling pranks and doing things that tow the line between legal and illegal just for the sake of doing them.

For years now, he’s spent every summer visiting his father’s cousin, and apprenticing at his company. Just over a years ago, Tony moved to Denver on a more permanent basis. He still hasn’t figured out what he wants to do with his future, but he’s spending his time hanging out in nature, skateboarding, surfing, and just being.

Potential Connections:

rivals

long term friends

surf buddies

roommate

someone he hooked up with whenever he was in town

any and every thing

#chq;task #antoine. #antoine (intro.)

[sexynbgfpollhost]

My review of ATLA Live Action episode one:

(Keep in mind, at this point I have only seen episode 1 and so this is just my first impression)

Remember, there are spoilers ahead and I seriously think you should watch it yourself before reading any review. Trust me, having your own impression first before anyone else's is way better... Okay here we go:

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Review of episode one, first impressions:

I really loved how we got to see what the air temple genocide looked like. It really shows that they're fully aware that the main audience has grown up. I watched it with my sister, her hubby, and my 5-yr niece and we didn't know that it would literally show people getting burned alive, so we had to cover her eyes a lot lol. I loved how we got to see firelord Sozin when he was first declaring war.

I really liked how we got to see monk Gyatsu (having that name in 2024 is sure rough buddy..) actually want Aang to have a childhood before they told him he's the avatar. The bending looks really cool, not slow and cringey like in the first live action movie haha. I thought the way that one air-bender died, the woman doing the air tornado, was fricken BRUTAL. And it's great to see just how far they're going with the onscreen death.

My brother-in-law (sister's hubby) felt really iffy on the fact that Aang can just sort of fly on his own now, without his glider thing. I honestly don't mind it, I don't think it really affects the story all that much. And it also just.. makes sense, for an air-bender to be able to fly on their own. I love how they got the grandma to say the original intro from the cartoon in a natural way as an explanation to Aang.

I liked how they kept the original motifs. The fire tribe still has that classic "BUM bum bUm baaaaam" idk how else to describe it haha

Aang: I thought his acting was pretty good for a kid. The crying parts were decent at best... but obviously I don't expect a kid to be great at faking tears. I thought his acting was great when he learned that he was the avatar, just that silent panic, the breathing getting faster and darting the eyes. The scene where he closed himself in the ice ball thing looked really cool. (My brother-in-law was fanboying the whole time, so much so that my niece started imitating him by saying "O M G the acting is SO good!" which made us all laugh, she didn't have ill-intent, she was just learning by example)

Katara: Her acting was a little iffy to me, I have hope that it'll improve later on. She had good lines but her face just didn't make me believe those lines. During emotional moments she was just kinda '_' But I know how tough it is to be a child actor so I'll give her the benefit of the doubt. (And to be fair, it is hard to convey emotion as good as a cartoon can) Her water bending looked really pretty, and I love that they kept her hair loopies. And I love that she still has her motherly personality like when she was comforting Aang near the end.

Sokka: Again, I thought his acting was pretty decent, child actors and whatnot. I really love how they didn't just reuse the same jokes from the cartoon and got original. My favorite two jokes were when it cut to him screaming on Appa, and when Aang said that he had to save the world and Sokka's response was like "Gee, is that all?" sarcastically, got a good laugh outta me. I love how his weapon looked exactly like the one in the cartoon. And I love how he got to have a one-on-one stand off with Zuko.

Haven't seen Momo yet, gonna be a bit disappointed if we don't but I mean.... Now that I think about it, Momo didn't really add anything. He was just kinda there in the cartoon for comedic affect...

Anyway, just in case someone is reading this before watching it, I'm not gonna spoil/talk about anything else (like Zuko and Iroh). So please go get your own impressions of it, even if you have to watch it on a pirated site.

Thanks for reading :)

(Side note, I do wish they chose tanner actors for the water tribe but eh, what the hell do I know? Could just be the lighting that's making them look pale)

Edit: So I just found out that Sokka and Katara's actors are not children lol (well, Karata's is 17 but that's almost an adult) so it is now a little less excusable.... But whatever, it's okay.

#avatar the last airbender live action #atla #live action #netflix #the better live action #aang #avatar #airbender #katara #water tribe #sokka #nickelodeon #fire tribe #air tribe #earth tribe