#mmmmm commanding vibes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gretagerwigsmuse · 4 months ago

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The whole look was something you’d sure would come with Cher Horowitz’s seal of approval. However, the patrons of the Hard Deck you were less sure about. - this is such a good visual like i know exactly the kind of vibe she’s going for 🥰 the ivory cardigan is such a cute touch too! the poor thing tho because i know exactly what it’s like to feel out of place

It was all done with a heavy-handed, maximalistic approach that you’d take a moment to appreciate under any other given circumstances. - no because it is kind of camp in a way

Followed closely by the rich chocolate brown eyes that were squarely trained on you with a look that was just as earnest as it was playful. - lieutenant commander cow eyes at your service 🫡

There’s a genuineness in his tone that makes some of the tightness that had settled in your shoulders from the moment you’d walked in release. - sighhhhhh 🥰 that’s bradley for you

To simply call him handsome would be an understatement. - yeah because he’s pretty

more below 🥰💕

“Because if I’m being honest, if that asshole had actually shown up, I don’t know if I would have played fair.” Oh. - well then 🤭 i’d be doing way more than an italicized oh 🤭

“Plus, you’d be doing me a favor.” // Bradley mirrors you, crossing his thick forearms over each other and leans in that much closer. “I haven’t had a Valentine in years,” he says it like he’s letting you in on a secret. - oh my god this would absolutely work on me wow he’s so cute and sweet and clearly he’s flirting, but it’s not like it’s rehearsed if that makes sense?

Those crinkles around his eyes deepen, “Good to know they still work, I wasn’t sure if I still had it.” - bubs please! rein in the charm!

“If they have rosé, I’d take a glass of that.” It isn’t hard to miss the hesitation in your voice, feeling a little silly defaulting to your usual go-to. You don’t imagine they go through a ton of pink wine here. - oh sweet girl! 🥺 i liked this part in the little teaser you posted too!

You don’t believe him, not one little bit. But that’s part of the fun. - HES SO CUTE STOP!!!

“But you’ve got me second guessing myself now.” He gives you a wink and then heads towards the bar. - GOODBYE 404’ing

…before taking a moment to send a string of words punctuated with more than a few exclamation points to the group chat. - ONE OF US ONE OF US ONE OF US

Bradley pulls the straw from his pocket and taps it a few times against the shellacked woodgrain table top. He takes the flimsy wrapper carefully starts twisting it, a little furrow of concentration forms between his brows, spiraling it until it’s pulled taut against itself. - mmmmmmm something about this mmmmm

You note that he wears his watch on the right instead of the left - HOT HOT HOT LEFTIE

Bradley gives you a soft, boyish smile as he holds out his palm towards you, and in the center of it is a perfectly crafted paper ring. “Sorry, I couldn’t find you a Ring Pop on short notice.” - FUCK RIGHT OFF WITH THIS!!!! (also her wanting to take it off and keep it is so 🥰)

Bradley hooks a foot under your stool and tugs you just a few inches closer. - oh hell yes

“You don’t know the half of it. I think I’m about thirty seconds from him queuing up “You Make Me Feel So Young” on repeat just to fuck with me,” Bradley explains. // The sound of a brass band rings out over the staticky speakers and Bradley hangs his head down and lets out a long-suffering groan. - BYEEEEEE

You gather for you purse and sweater as Bradley stands. His hands come to your waist, helping you off the chair, your bodies closer than close. It’s a forward move- he knows it, you know it- but with him, you don’t mind at all. - IT IS A FORWARD MOVE 🤭 i have butterflies

You like saying his name too much to shorten it. - i love this so much awwww

It’s a little thing, but he does it without prompt or awkwardly leaving you to take the initiative yourself. - this is such a big thing! i love how you worded this!

You can tell he’s probably playing quicker than he normally does, clearly trying to hurry up the game for your sake, even though he doesn’t need to. - wait that’s so cute 🥰 also your pool knowledge is very impressive!!

You look at Bradley from over your shoulder, only to see his eyes are trained on the ceiling with his tongue pressed against his cheek. A gentleman, albeit not an unaffected one. - HOT this whole set up is so good

“The atm’s by the restroom.” Bradley sounds only too happy to remind Jake as he closes the gap between the two of you. - DRAG HIS ASS

You wrap your arms around his neck and bring his lips to yours for a kiss. A sound of surprise escapes from his throat. - THIS IS SO CUTE!!! SHE SURPRISED HIM!!!

𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬: 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 - I KNOW THAT’S RIGHT! (one might even say progressive)

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐈 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭: 𝐈 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲. (𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐞𝐫.) - oh my god oh my god this is so smooth but also cute and earnest at the same time!!! and he sent a rose!!!

For the Plot

Summary: Things aren't looking too good for you, sitting alone at the Hard Deck waiting for a man who might not show. Until Bradley Bradshaw sits down across from you and turns your entire night upside down.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Reader

Length: 7.7k

Warnings: fluff, so much flirting, and an italicized oh

Going on a first date on Valentine’s Day is unarguably the worst possible idea that anyone has ever had.And while the sure to be terrible, no good, horribly bad idea hadn’t been yours, you weren’t entirely sure what you were thinking when you’d even agreed to it in the first place.

The guy you were planning to meet tonight was cute enough, even if you were still undecided about the mustache. And while the chats between the two of you had been pretty good as far as it goes getting to know a literal stranger, you were hopeful that it could be even better in person. The fact he was in the Navy was still a bit of a consideration for you, but not a deal breaker.

In retrospect, the name of the bar should have been your first clue and the location paired with the causal beachy exterior covered in planes should have been the second.

You had been expecting to see more than one girl all done up in pinks and reds tonight, but you couldn’t have been more wrong. And you swear to god, somewhere you hear a record scratch as you step into the Hard Deck, because you are surrounded by nothing but a sea of olive green and khaki and denim.

And you have never been so clearly out of place in your entire life.

There was nothing about your ensemble that was even remotely fitting for the literal Navy bar you’d found yourself in.

The ice pink mini slip dress you’d dug out of your closet was admittedly a little much for a first date, but since it was Valentine’s Day you figured why not lean into it a bit. And well, if your date didn’t appreciate it, then that was a him problem.

Or so you’d thought at the time, because now it was a decidedly you problem.

The silhouette was simple enough, with the gentle drape of the cowl neck and the barely-there spaghetti straps, but the shiny sheen of the fabric made a statement of its own. It wasn’t something you got to wear very often for as much as you loved it.

But then you’d gone ahead and paired it with the tallest, most ostentation heels you had. The effort had been worth it though because the pearl encrusted block heels made your legs look like they went on for days. Even if it had been a feat trying to get the dainty buckle done with the way you’d been rushing out of the house with your beaded bag in tow.

The whole look was something you’d sure would come with Cher Horowitz’s seal of approval. However, the patrons of the Hard Deck you were less sure about. And even though there were civilians- like yourself- scattered about the bar, none were anywhere near as dressed up as you.

There are more than a few pairs of eyes on you as you stand there with your feet glued to the uneven wooden floors, as the door with its porthole-shaped window slowly closes behind you with a squeaky creak. The twinkle lights above your head felt more like a spotlight, illuminating how out of place you are in this moment.

Your hand is still clutched on the handle unsure whether you’re going to make a run for it or not. You are more than a little tempted to hightail it back to the parking lot and text your date to claim a bout of food poisoning from the safety of the driver’s seat in your car.

But chances are if your date is here then he has already seen you. A bright beacon of pink amongst varying shades of brown and woodgrain.

“Oh my god,” you mutter under your breath, trying not to panic. Officially a victim of your own bad decision making.

You take a quick scan of the room, trying to decide what your next move should be. There’s a woman behind the bar with kind but clearly inquisitive eyes. A blonde with a wolfish smile eyes you from where he stands next to a man with broad shoulders bent over what must be the pool table, hidden behind the paneled half wall. By a dart board, there are a couple men with their heads turned towards you, the game seemingly forgotten as they discuss the spectacle that is you.

There are hundreds of planes dangling over the bar, patches and plaques littering the walls and rafters, rounders suspended from the ceiling laden with too many ceramic mugs to count. It was all done with a heavy-handed, maximalistic approach that you’d take a moment to appreciate under any other given circumstances.

When you spot an open table tucked away in the corner of the room it feels like life raft to the iceberg of a situation you’ve put yourself in. Mindful of the scuffed, uneven floors- because the last thing you need is to eat shit or twist an ankle in front of room full of curious onlookers- you hustle over to the spot in hopes of having a moment to regroup.

Once you’re situated- shrugging off the ivory cardigan you’d topped your outfit, trying to keep the nervous sweat that wanted to break out over your body at bay- you pull out your phone and check the time only to realize you’re devastatingly on time. Five minutes early, to be specific.

So you wait.

And check your phone again and the notifications in the dating app, just in case you missed something.

And wait.

You try to play it cool, skimming posts on Instagram and replying to some overdue texts. Finding anything you can to keep yourself occupied to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach the longer you sit there. Alone.

Now you’re not just simply embarrassed, you’re mortified.

You can still feel the eyes, the energy steadily shifting from curiosity to sympathy over the last thirty minutes you’ve been waiting all alone in the corner of a Navy bar you had no business being in for a man who clearly wasn’t going to show.

So much for doing it for the plot, you think to yourself with a shake of your head.

Another minute ticks by with no message and you decide you’re more than ready to hightail it out of there. Fully aware that you’re about to become a topic of conversation that won’t have to be restricted to only covert glances and muffled whispers. But hopefully, they’ll at least wait until the door closes behind you before the chatter starts up for real.

With a sigh, you reach for your beaded bag, just as a large body slips into the chair across from you, with an ease that is in contrast to the bulk of muscles you catch in your peripheral vision.

“You look like you’re in need of a date,” a warm, raspy voice offers.

It’s the smile that you catch first. Not quite a grin, but something familiar and friendly and charming in the way it crookedly pulled to the left. Followed closely by the rich chocolate brown eyes that were squarely trained on you with a look that was just as earnest as it was playful. But what surprised you the most was the way he was sitting in the stool across from you just as comfortably as if he was supposed to be there all along.

There was no way you could have prepared yourself for the sheer level of attractiveness of this man.

He was in a league of his own with those curls and wide shoulders. The white and olive green stripped crochet shirt he was wearing didn’t hurt either, especially the way the top buttons were undone giving you glimpse of a chain around his neck and the chest underneath it. He didn’t need to be in uniform- or even in a Navy bar- for you to tell he was a military man. Not with the confident way he held himself.

Even if the mustache he was sporting made it feel like the universe was playing tricks on you, but he more than wore it well.

You huff out a self-deprecating laugh. “What gave it away?” you ask. “The way I’ve been watching the door? Or just the general look of regret and embarrassment?”

“Embarrassed? What do you have to be embarrassed about?” His eyebrows pull together, perplexed. He shakes his head like he disagrees with even the suggestion of it. “I think the only person who should be embarrassed is the guy who is missing out on sitting across from you right now.”

You give him a soft smile of your own in return for the cinnamon sweet words. There’s a genuineness in his tone that makes some of the tightness that had settled in your shoulders from the moment you’d walked in release.

“That’s kind of you, but I think I’m going to head out,” you say, nodding to the door you never should have stepped through in the first place.

He gives you a teasing tsk. “And let a dress like that go to waste? Now that would be a shame.”

The appreciative look in his gaze that sets off a swarm of butterflies in your stomach. And then his eyebrow ticks up, just a little. Part invitation, part dare. And you can’t say you’re not intrigued.

There’s a decision to make.

You could leave now and cut your losses. There was a reason you had a back-up pizza in the fridge and had left you well-loved copy of You’ve Got Mail sitting out on your coffee table.

Or you could stick around and see what happens next.

You tilt your head at him, just as teasing. “Would it now?”

“It would,” he states, sincerely.

Before you can reply, your phone lights up with a new notification, pulling you out of the whisky haze you’d found yourself in.

His eyes dip down to your illuminated screen. “Is that him?”

“It is,” you confirm, almost regretfully. You open the app and skim the message. And then read it again.

There’s no sorry, no apology for cancelling a half an hour after the time for the date that had been his idea in the first place. And then he’d even had the audacity to tack on a cavalier maybe another time at the end.

Unbelievable.

He lets out a low whistle. “That bad, huh?”

“Apparently, I should have been the one to remind him that the fourteenth of February is a calendar holiday and a fan favorite day of the greeting card companies.” It’s so ridiculous you’d laugh if you weren’t so annoyed by the lack of consideration and the not-so-subtle blame he’d tried to shift on you. “Even though I did double check if he was sure about meeting up today, I guess I didn’t realize I actually needed to spell out ‘Valentine’s Day’ for him.”

The man across from you doesn’t bother holding back the less than impressed look on his face. And you decide you like that about him, that he wears his thoughts so openly. It’s refreshing.

“Do you mind if I take a look at his profile?”

You shrug and pass your phone over. You were planning on blocking West the second you had a moment anyways. You see him roll his eyes and guess it has something to do with the amount of shirtless gym selfies.

He snorts as he scrolls, “Please, his mustache has nothing on mine.”

An amused laugh escapes you. “Are we ranking mustaches now? Because if that’s the case, I’m sorry to say that I’d have to give it to Selleck.”

“Fair enough,” he concedes good-naturedly, as he hands you back your phone. “But am I at least a close second?” There’s no mistaking the flirtatious tone in his voice.

You hum and take full advantage of the opportunity to look at him unabashedly, mapping the contours of his face because you can.

To simply call him handsome would be an understatement.

The way the golden light of the sunset is hitting him you catch some sunkissed strands in those soft looking waves of his hair. There’s the beginning of some crinkles around the edges of his eyes. You notice the scars on his face, some that look long healed and others that are still a light pink- like the one on the side of his neck and beneath is ear. And that mustache on him worked for you, one hundred percent.

There’s a playful glint in his eyes as he lets you assess him that leaves no question as to whether or not he’s been flirting with you. You like the way he’s looking at you and the way he’s easily made you forget about being overdressed and how uncomfortable you were even just five minutes ago. You’re having fun. And while you still haven’t answered his question from earlier, you have no doubt that he’d show you a good time if you let him.

“Maybe not a close second, but yours is certainly up there,” you tease.

He grins. “I can work with that.” There’s something about the way he adds on for now that has a spark dancing up along your spine. And then he sticks out his hand, “I’m Bradley.”

It’s a good name. It suits him. It’s one you think you’ll enjoy the way your tongue will curl around the letters of it in your mouth.

When you give him yours in return, he sits up straighter in his seat, like he’s won a small victory.

You don’t doubt that he’s the chivalrous type, the fact that he’s gone out of his way to come over to try and turn this evening around for you says more about him than any dating profile with nonsense questions and overthought answers ever could. But with a man like him, one who’d swoop in to save the night of a stranger because she looks like a damsel in distress, there’s an answer to a question you need to hear first.

“Bradley, this isn’t a pity thing, is it?” You were right, you like the way saying his name feels. You drop your hands into your lap, as you search his eyes. “Because if it is, that’ll make me feel worse than being stood up did.”

The way the words were sitting out and open on the table between the two of you made you feel vulnerable in a way you didn’t like. But you’d rather know now before anything goes further. Doing it for the plot or not, your ego could only take so much bruising in one evening.

He pins you with a look so serious that you feel it down to your toes. “Trust me, this is furthest thing from a ‘pity thing’, as you put it,” Bradley says, his tone slipping down a few gravelly notes. “Because if I’m being honest, if that asshole had actually shown up, I don’t know if I would have played fair.”

Oh.

A thrilling rush of warmth courses through you as your cheeks heat up.

You nod, trying to not look as affected as you feel. “Ok, I believe you.”

“Good,” he smirks, his gaze dropping down and lingering on your lips. You didn’t realize you’d trapped your lower lip between your teeth, you release it immediately. “Because you should know, I would have come over sooner- the second I saw you, actually- if I’d known. That’s some dress, sweetheart,” Bradley continues, “Plus, you’d be doing me a favor.”

You couldn’t help but be curious, so you lean in closer. “Oh, how so?”

Bradley mirrors you, crossing his thick forearms over each other and leans in that much closer. “I haven’t had a Valentine in years,” he says it like he’s letting you in on a secret.

For the first time all night, you don’t regret wearing the dress. You don’t regret the ostentatious shoes or the glimmering beaded bag. You don’t regret walking through that creaky door. You don’t regret showing up tonight.

How could you when you’ve just been served the best plot twist you’ve possibly ever experienced? A meetcute you never could have seen coming.

You realize just how close your faces have gotten and lean back in your seat, from fear of thinking you might do something stupid, like kiss him. “Will you stop with the big cow eyes, if I agree?”

Those crinkles around his eyes deepen, “Good to know they still work, I wasn’t sure if I still had it.”

You press your lips together trying to hide your smile, all too thoroughly charmed, but the corners of your mouth curl up all the same.

“Trust me, you have plenty.”

And Bradley’s own smile gets even wider.

Anyone in the bar can see how pleased with himself he is at your words. It rolls off of him in steady waves and swirls around your shins and ankles.

He makes a show of settling further into his seat, now that it is officially his seat. “What’re we thinking? One milkshake, two straws?”

You play along and pretend to ponder the offer for a moment. “That seems more like a second date type of activity, does it not?”

“You’re right, something to look forward to for next time,” he responds, not missing a beat. “So, can I buy you a drink?”

“I’ll allow it.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

There wasn’t a menu or anything on the table when you sat down, so you aren’t sure what all is offered here. You thought you might have caught a glimpse of a laminated stack near register when you’d first walked in, but you hadn’t wanted to draw any more attention to yourself at the time by getting up again and wandering around and reminding people just how out of place you’d been.

You look around and see a mix of ceramic steins, pint glasses, beer bottles, and a few stems of wine on tabletops and in the hands of the other patrons.

The noise of the bar had become a faint white noise in your ears as the two of you talked, but it comes back in full force now.

“If they have rosé, I’d take a glass of that.” It isn’t hard to miss the hesitation in your voice, feeling a little silly defaulting to your usual go-to. You don’t imagine they go through a ton of pink wine here. “But, uhm, anything on tap would be fine too, if they don’t.”

Bradley’s lips twitch up. Not in a smirk, but something caught between amused and something else you can’t quite describe.

You try not to fidget under his warm gaze, “What?”

He slides out of his stool and rounds the table, setting a big hand on the armrest near your elbow, “There’s something you should know about me, sweetheart.”

“And what’s that?” you ask, more than a little breathlessly. Feeling a little high off of the smell of his leather and vanilla cologne, and something underneath that that reminds you of kerosene in a way that makes you want to breathe him in even more.

Bradley dips down close, his lips just a whisper from your ear, and murmurs, “Pink is my favorite color.”

Your head tips back on its own as you laugh. Its unabashedly loud and bright and delighted thing that fills the nooks and crannies of the corner you’d tucked yourself away into. And if a few heads turn your way because of it, that’s alright with you.

You don’t believe him, not one little bit. But that’s part of the fun. The back and forth, the flirting, the banter, the teasing. He’s so quickly turned this night around for you, you already know your cheeks are going to hurt by the end of it.

The sound of Bradley’s own laughter chases after yours. It’s warm and raspy and boyish, and you like the sound of it. You like him.

“One rosé, coming up,” he says, giving your shoulder a light squeeze before he steps out of your space. “There’s nothing I like more than a girl who commits to a theme.”

You catch his wrist, his skin warm under your palm. “Wait, what’s it really?”

“Red,” Bradley says, then gives you a slow once over, making your pulse spark in your veins. “But you’ve got me second guessing myself now.” He gives you a wink and then heads towards the bar.

You watch stunned as he saunters away, admiring the way the light wash jeans he’s wearing form to his long legs, before taking a moment to send a string of words punctuated with more than a few exclamation points to the group chat.

When he comes back, only a few minutes later, he has glass of familiar pink wine in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other. And oddly enough, a straw tucked into the pocket on his shirt.

“It’s almost a perfect match,” he notes, when he sets it in front of you.

“At least I won’t have to worry about staining if I end up spilling on myself.”

Bradley chuckles and moves his stool in closer to yours, sitting back down with more smooth grace than a man with his build has any right to move. He tips the neck of his beer towards you, and you lightly tap your wine glass against it.

You take a sweet sip. “So.”

“So,” he repeats, with a teasing lift of his eyebrow.

“What’s your move?” you ask, running a glossy tipped finger around the rim of your wineglass.

“My move?” And there’s that grin again, one he doesn’t try to hide as he takes a sip of his own. “‘m pretty sure I’ve been showing you my moves since I sat down. I’ve never been good at being subtle.”

You set an elbow on the edge, resting your chin on your hand as you study him. “But what’s the big move? I know you have one,” you press further.

His hands are big, calloused and rough, but capable. You want to know the story behind the scar that’s near the base of his thumb. You note that he wears his watch on the right instead of the left, and you pocket that new discovery for yourself the way a kid enthusiastically collects rocks in a park.

Bradley takes that piece of paper and folds it in half before twisting it again.

You watch in fascination as that pleased grin transforms into a confident smirk, like he’s enjoying even just the thought of showing you his big move. He looks like good trouble.

Bradley’s eyes slowly lift to yours, his hands pausing whatever he’s doing with that wrapper. He shoots a thumb to the left towards the end of the oval shaped bar. “You see that piano over there?”

“Mhm.” It’s an almost purr.

“That’s my big move.”

You feel your eyebrows lift in surprise. Bradley gave off such hometown golden boy vibes, you’d never have expected that he’d be the musical type too. The idea of seeing those hands fly over a set of black and white piano keys made your stomach tighten deliciously in anticipation.

“Am I going to get to see it?”

His gaze is steady on you when he replies, “Yeah, sweetheart, I’ll show you my move.”

A grin stretches across your face and you feel downright giddy, as you wiggle your shoulders in triumph.

Bradley shakes his head amused, and then refocuses his efforts on the task he’d started with the straw wrapper. He struggles only for a moment- those large fingers getting in the way- as he tries to open the end just enough to slip the tail though. He gives it one more final twist, securing the loop, before inspecting his handiwork.

“Now, since we’re valentines and all, it seemed only fitting that I get you- well, make you- a little something.” Bradley gives you a soft, boyish smile as he holds out his palm towards you, and in the center of it is a perfectly crafted paper ring. “Sorry, I couldn’t find you a Ring Pop on short notice.”

The words escape you for a moment at the sheer sweetness of the gesture.

Gently, you take it from his outstretched hand, and slip it onto the pointer finger of your right hand, adjusting it with care until you have it situated just right.

“I usually wouldn’t be able to accept something so grand on a first date. But for you, I’ll make an exception,” you say, liltingly. “Thank you, Bradley.”

You look down to appreciate it again, more than a little tempted to take it off and tuck it securely into your purse for safekeeping. For as much as you liked your dress and bag and your shoes, that little paper ring was now your favorite piece of the outfit you were wearing.

When you glance back up at him, his cheeks have the faintest pink hue to them. The little nonchalant shrug he tries to give you does nothing to hide how pleased he looks. “I make a mean daisy chain too. We might have to wait a couple months for Spring, but I’m good for it.”

Your mind flashes with an image of you and him in a park with a picnic basket sat between the two of you, and those large hands of his threading celery green stems together. It’s a pretty picture.

“Well, aren’t you just a regular modern day Renaissance man.”

“I’m a man of many talents,” he rasps, silky smooth. It makes goosebumps raise along your arms. “Now, I’ve told you mine. Can’t say I’m not dying to know what your big move is. Am I going to get to see it, sweetheart?”

“Maybe,” you muse, lifting your glass to take another sip, “If you’re good.”

Bradley hooks a foot under you stool and tugs you just a few inches closer. “Just out of curiosity, what’s your position on kissing on a first date?”

You bend forward towards him and think you hear his breath hitch, you smile. “I’ll keep you posted.”

You’re still looking at his lips when a shout from across the bar startles you both.

“Bradshaw!”

Bradley mutters a string of curses and then blows out a breath, giving you a smoldering look that tells you that the conversation is far from over. You’re more than willing to let him try and change your mind about where he lands in the mustache rankings.

You look over your shoulder to see the with the sharp smile from earlier waving your date over to the pool table. “I take it you know, Malibu Ken?”

“Unfortunately.” A mischievous look coasts over his face. “But I’ll get you all the Ring Pops you could ever want if you say that to his face.”

You laugh. “I’m holding out for that daisy chain.”

Another holler rings out from across the room, the same Southern drawl as before.

“Seems like he wants your attention. Is he a Leo?”

He snorts. “You know what, he just might be. But more like he’s been waiting for the right moment to annoy me since I ditched him to come talk to a pretty girl instead.”

You try not to preen at the compliment.

“The relentless type, huh?”

“You don’t know the half of it. I think I’m about thirty seconds from him queuing up “You Make Me Feel So Young” on repeat just to fuck with me,” Bradley explains. There’s a story there and you want to know more. “I know I still owe you the big move, but is it alright if I try to show off a little for you now? Just to get off my back for the rest of the night, then I’m all yours.”

You feel like you’ve just pulled an ace from your pocket.

“What are the stakes?” you ask, intrigued.

“Two hundred dollars and a whiskey,” Bradley replies.

You let out a low whistle, trying to school the catlike grin that wants to overtake your face. “That’s a lot of Ring Pops.”

The corners of his mouth curl up. “I was thinking dinner for our third date,” he says. “I’m buying for our second, of course. But it’s only right that we split the spoils of war.”

The sound of a brass band rings out over the staticky speakers and Bradley hangs his head down and lets out a long-suffering groan. You playfully pat his shoulder in faux commiseration.

You pretend to consider it for a moment, but you already know your answer. “Okay,” you agree, “Just as long as you’re okay with a little respectful ogling. You like my dress, and I like those jeans you’re wearing.”

He laughs, it’s a throaty rich sound. “I’d be offended if you didn’t.”

Bradley offers you his hand and you take it in yours; his fingers slip between yours easily like the two of you have already done this before.

The two of you only make it a few steps before you tug on his hand, waiting until he looks at you from over his shoulder before asking, with a lifted brow, “Bradley Bradshaw?”

He huffs out a not-so-exasperated sigh, “I blame it on the 80’s.”

“Whatever you say, Brad-Brad.” It’s the one and only time you’re ever going to say it, you decide. You like saying his name too much to shorten it. And his back may be turned to you now, but that now familiar chuckle still makes its way to your ears.

Bradley leads you to the bar first, where he buys another glass of rosé and a beer for himself. When you try to pass your credit card to the woman behind the counter, he takes it, and rasps into your ear, “Let me.”

He tucks it right back into your purse as the sound of brass instruments starts up yet again.

“Like a dog with a goddamn bone,” you hear him mumble. And you press your lips together to keep from laughing. Sure, you’d rather be seeing his big move, but you can’t claim not to be amused by all of this.

He nods to a group of people in the corner near the popcorn machine when the two of you enter the alcove with pool table. Some of his other friends of his you assume.

You send them a little wave, one that they return in greeting. You can tell they’re curious, but you’re grateful when they resume their conversation instead of making you feel like your date with Bradley had become a spectator sport for their viewing entertainment.

The first thing Bradley does is introduce you to his friend. It’s a little thing, but he does it without prompt or awkwardly leaving you to take the initiative yourself. You appreciate the way he is still prioritizing your comfort the way he’s been doing it since he first sat down across from you.

The second thing he does is pull out a chair for you. Not with a fanfare, not with a flourish. But like it’s something that’s innately ingrained in him. You get the sense that the gentleman thing isn’t an act with him, it’s who he is.

Jake rests a hip against the table. “Sorry to interrupt your date, but Bradshaw and I had some unfinished business.”

You wave him off, it’s not a big deal. Not when you’ll have the rest of the night with Bradley. Plus, you’re eager to watch this play out between them, curious about their gameplay.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get this over with,” Bradley rumbles, as he arranges the balls in the rack. And you wonder if he lost the lag before he’d made his way over to your table for one.

He comes back over to you, and leans on the ledge next to you as he chalks his cue. You’d thought about slipping your sweater back on, with the outside chill pressing against the line of glass windows at your back, but Bradley had more than enough warmth radiating off of him that you didn’t need to.

“You that eager to be out a couple hundred, Bradshaw?” Jake grins, as he leans over the side of the table. He turns his gaze to you and sends you a wink right before he breaks, sending the cue ball barreling into the others with a resounding clack, scattering them across the table.

And then they’re off.

It’s a rapid fire of back-and-forth banter between the men as they take their shots. Mostly good natured, but undeniably competitive. Smirking when they land their shots, and snarking over fouls. Clear that neither of them wants to lose.

Jake is all confident posturing, playing low over the cue with a lightly too tight grip. It’s the only thing that gives him away that he’s not the easygoing player as he wants people to think he is. Choosing higher risk shots that would highlight his ability versus some of the more straightforward options laid out for him, and skilled enough that it pays off most of the time. But after a couple rounds you note he’s too quick to stand up after taking his shot, not enough follow through because he’s too eager to see if his gamble pays off.

Bradley is all loose-limbed ease, clearly comfortable in both his skin and at the table. You can tell he’s probably playing quicker than he normally does, clearly trying to hurry up the game for your sake, even though he doesn’t need to. Although he does take his time as he positions himself around the table, only adjusting his bridge every now and then. Always with a 1-2 shot, a warm-up stroke followed by a steady hit. Watching him you catch his tendency to throw out his elbow of the follow through.

The two are pretty well matched in skill, you observe with keen eyes, as the balls skate across the Top Gun insignia, against the rails, and into pockets.

When Bradley’s not up to play, he’s by your side, right at your elbow. And when he is, it’s your eyes he’s looking into the moment he stands back up, seeking out your reaction. But more than once you feel his eyes on you as you watch them play.

True to your word, you to admire him in those snug fitting jeans. And when he catches your appreciative gaze, he sends you a wink before lining up his next shot.

Jake sinks another solid into the pocket he’d called only moments ago, and turns his dimpled smile at you, “You still sure about your date with the old man, chickadee? I bet I could show him up in that department too.”

The way he says it, you know he’s just teasing, probably just to rile you date up and get a reaction from him.

“Unfortunately for you, I think I have a thing for mustaches now,” you toss back, unbothered. And Bradley smiles into his drink.

You watch as Jake lines up his next shot and hits the white with a compact stroke.

“Double hit,” you declare.

“Dammit,” Jake curses.

You look over to see Bradley looking at you with a focused look on his face. Like there’s a theory clicking into place, one he needs the answer to. Wordlessly, he hands you the cue.

“You sure?” you ask.

“Two hundred dollars sure,” he states.

You take it from him with a sly grin.

Bradley’s thighs brush against the front of your knees, you know if you parted them even a couple inches, that he’d fit just right between them. His hands landing on your waist again as he assists you off the stool you’ve been perched on. And you’re starting to think he just likes an excuse to touch you, not that he needs one because you already more than like the feel of his hands on your body.

You walk the pool table, running a finger around the rails as you do. Evaluating the balls on the table like they’re chess pieces. The slow clip of your heels on the floor like the tick of a clock as you take your time deciding your approach.

“You’re the stripes,” Jake offers helpfully. “Don’t worry, I’ll even let you have a free shot.”

And you can’t help but laugh because this is going to be fun.

“Bradley?” you ask, leisurely chalking your cue.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Do you mind?” You gesture to the spot behind you, and he catches on quick with a not-so-subtle glance at the short hem of your skirt.

He sets his beer down and comes to stand behind you, there’s just enough space between the two of you that you don’t have to worry about hitting him with the cue, his broad from proving you the coverage you needed to bend over the table. While you don’t think you’d mind Bradley seeing the silk thong you had on underneath your dress, you weren’t exactly up for flashing the whole bar.

You haven’t played in a while, but it’s a muscle memory at this point, as you map out your moves. Seeing the lines and angles and arcs in your mind’s eye before anchoring your bridge.

You look at Bradley from over your shoulder, only to see his eyes are trained on the ceiling with his tongue pressed against his cheek. A gentleman, albeit not an unaffected one. A tendril of smokey gratification curls its way along your spine. You turn your head back to the pool table looking between the cue, target, cue ball, target.

It’s a smooth stroke with a satisfying crack. A clean three-rail shot that lands the striped five into the pock you’d intended for it.

“Damn” is all Jake says. His eyes you up, clearly impressed.

“You sure about that free shot, Jake?” You stand up and smooth out your dress, just for the show of it. “Or do you want to make it double or nothing instead, Malibu Ken?” You hear Bradley snort from behind you.

And just like you thought, he wasn’t one to back down from a challenge, “Deal.” Jake turns to Bradley. “I just let your girl hustle me, didn’t I?”

“You sure did,” Bradley says with a grin, but his eyes are on you.

Neither are surprised when you sink your next shot too. The six sailing into the left corner pocket.

On your next shot, you may or may not deliberately foul. A tactical choice that sets Jake up with a less than ideal position on the table, knowing it’ll be a difficult shot for him to make.

“Now you’re just toying with me, aren’t you?” Jake grouses.

You just smile and take a sip of the rosé that Bradley hands you, neither confirming or denying.

Surprisingly, he banks it. But his good luck only lasting through that one play. Because on his next, the ball glances off the side rail at too acute an angle to reach the intended pocket and he groans.

Not quite ready to be done, you ease off a little. Enough that they both know you’re going easy on him to extend the game longer, just so that he can catch up to you.

But soon enough, soon there’s only your eight ball left on the table.

“Looks like you’re about to be out four hundred dollars, Jake,” you say with a self-satisfied smirk.

“Just put me out of my misery already.”

You turn to Bradley, who has been carefully positioning himself behind you the whole time. You hold out the cue to him and ask, “Do you want the honors?”

He shakes his head. “Go on, finish him off, sweetheart. I’m enjoying the show.”

And when your final ball tips into the side pocket, Jakes resounding groan is drown out by the whistle Bradley lets loose between his thumb and pointer finger, as you turn towards him beaming.

“The atm’s by the restroom.” Bradley sounds only too happy to remind Jake as he closes the gap between the two of you.

You look over his wide shoulder, “As for the whiskey, something expensive please, Malibu Ken.”

Jake huffs a grumble but nods all the same as he goes to round up your winnings.

“Scored four hundred dollars and a valentine, that’s not too shabby, if I do say so myself,” you preen to Bradley.

“Think that might have been the best thing I’ve seen all year,” Bradley announces. “The hottest too, if I’m being honest.” You feel your cheeks heat under his gaze. His finger slips under the thin strap of your dress that had fallen off your shoulder somewhere along the way. He slides it back up and into place, treating it like some delicate thing the same way he did that paper wrapper. “Where’d you learn to play like that?”

Normally, this is when you’d rerack, but you’ve never had a Bradley Bradshaw looking at you before.

“I took a class in college over the summer as an elective credit, and it turns out I had a knack for it,” you explain with a playful little shrug.

“I’ll say.” He takes another step closer. “Did you just show me your move, sweetheart?”

“One of them,” you grin.

You don’t have to press up to his height, not with your pearly heels.

You wrap your arms around his neck and bring his lips to yours for a kiss. A sound of surprise escapes from his throat. You feel the curve of a smile before his hands slide around your waist to pull you closer.

The scrape of his mustache against your upper lip sends electricity racing along every nerve ending in your body. In that moment you are Midas touched, the blood thrumming through your veins feels like liquid gold. It’s unhurried, like he’s been waiting to savor the feel of your mouth against his. Exciting and new as you learn the taste and touch of him. You knew it was going to be good, but even so, it’s better than you could have expected.

“Think you just snagged that number one spot of my list of favorite mustached men,” you say against his lips.

“Suck it, Selleck,” he rasps.

You inhale the amusement of his light chuckle, letting it go to your head like champagne bubbles, before he slips a hand around the base of your neck and pulling you in close once again.

A couple hours later, you find yourself at home on the couch. Your cheeks a little sore from how much smiling you’d done tonight, as Tom and Meg trade words over a plate of caviar on screen.

It was only much later that night you’d gotten to see Bradley’s big move.

He’d surprised you with his voice and the talented way his fingers glided over the white and black keys. An expensive glass of amber colored liquor sitting atop the old piano as he played, and four hundred dollars tucked safely away in your purse.

You’d given him your number when he’d walked you to your car, only distracting you for a few extra minutes with his mouth, before you’d left for the night, hoping that you’d hear from him soon.

A notification lights up your phone, and a ribbon of thrill unspools through you.

You sigh when you see that it’s a notification from your dating app. You’re wary to open it, not wanting anything to color your night, but you figure now is as good of time as any to block the guy who had nothing on the one you’d spent your evening with.

When you see the name of the person who’d sent you a message, you click into his profile with lightning-fast fingers, skimming all the details to things you hadn’t had a chance to learn yet.

𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐰

𝐀𝐠𝐞: 𝟑𝟓

𝐉𝐨𝐛 𝐓𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: 𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐭

𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥: 𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐚

𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬: 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥

𝐙𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐜 𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐧: 𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫

There is a picture of him in uniform, grinning to someone out of the frame. And another one of him shirtless on the beach, surrounded by some of the faces you’d seen tonight at the Hard Deck.

But it’s the answers to the prompts that he’d picked, that set your heart fluttering.

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐈 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭: 𝐈 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲. (𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐞𝐫.)

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐬: 𝐈 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬, 𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬.

𝐈 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭: 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬.

That one makes you laugh.

You open the message from him, one that had been sent with a rose.

𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐰: 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞? 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨, 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧? 𝐈 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐈 𝐨𝐰𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐨𝐩.

You don’t even have to think.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐤𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝?

And you can’t help but grin to yourself as look at that paper ring still on your finger. Because you know, this app won’t be on your phone for much longer.

Not now that you’ve met him.

Happy Hearts Day, friends! Thank you for reading!

And a big thank you to Jordan ( @gretagerwigsmuse) for all the support and encouragement and general woogirling over Bradley Bradshaw!

You can read my other stories here!

Taglist:

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

#bradley fic #i’d swoon so hard i’d be rendered mute

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sukunasfourtheye · 4 years ago

Text

Late Night Texts- Eren x reader

Minors DNI, 18+ Adult Content 🔞

Masterlist

Summary: It’s midnight, you’re kinda tipsy, and you text your friend Eren.

Warnings: Smut smut smut, minors DNI. This is pure pure fucking filth. Yoinks.

Contains: swearing, sexting/texting, sexting turned to FaceTime sex/phone sex, dirty talk, ‘good girl” used multiple times, masturbation

Words: 1.2k

Note from the author: I personally have such a thing for phone sex/sexting so much so this is a personal fav gahhhhhh. I debated this being a Levi or Eren fic but feel like Levi would literally just get up and go to your house and wouldn’t have the patience for sexting LOL so Eren it was

———————*~*~*~*~—————-*~*~*~*~*~————

>>> heeeeeeey haha whats upp

Eren raised an eyebrow as he glanced down at your text. Hmm, he thought. Kinda late. He squinted at the clock on his night stand that read 12:31am.

> Sup

Probably just bored, he thought. He hit send, and not even 15 seconds later his phone *dings* again.

>>> nothing hahaha kinda tipsy but oh well

He hated to admit it, but he felt a small flutter in his chest reading your reply. You’d been friends for a while, but he never picked up on any flirty vibes from you, but drunk texting at midnight? Hmm...

> Fun. Did you go out?

>>> yeah clubbing with sashaaaa haha so fun:) you shoulda caaaaaame

Ok, this is definitely flirty, he thought. The thought of you in a tight dress, all dolled up, swaying on a dancefloor....phew.

> Damn, yeah I should’ve come. Would’ve been fun seeing you.

He hesitates, thinking he’s definitely breaching into flirty territory with this one. He thinks, fuck it before he presses send.

His phone *dings* and he sees the text preview on his home screen:

>>> [y/n] sent you a snap!

>>> now you see me :)

His excitement started to grow as he saw the Snapchat and text double notification on his screen. Despite himself, he felt his cock twitch in his boxers, and he reflexively reached his hand down to start to rub himself lazily.

He opens the Snapchat notification.

It’s a video of you laying in bed, your phone held up at arms length, smiling with your tongue sticking out playfully. You were wearing a strapless v-neck leather top and tight black pants, your face alight with glittery makeup and a clear drunken stupor. Your smile was radiant.

Fuck, she’s hot, he thought. His hand had a mind of it’s own and started to rub himself through his pants, with a bit more purpose now. He groaned, shifting his hips up at his own contact. He replayed the video, stroking himself.

>>> replayed my video? ;)

Whoops. He forgot you get notified if he replays your video. He goes to at first make an excuse (”whoops my bad”) but instead decides against it. Fuck it shes drunk maybe she’ll forget it, he thought. He hesitates, but presses send:

> Yeah, damn you look good

Why did i just send that. The tension of seeing you typing back made him even hornier, letting out another groan as his dick began hardening under his boxers.

>>> reaaaally? :) youre not too bad yourself ;)

Oh yes. It’s showtime.

> So that’s why you’re texting me so late. Just wanted a little attention?

> Yeah, you’re low key hot as fuck

There’s a long pause as he’s waiting for you to reply, terrified he fucked it up and went too far.

Then....you sent a voice note. He hit play:

>>> “Mmmmm... I wish you were here right now.”

Your voice is almost a moan, going straight to his dick. Fuck, she wants it. That’s so hot. His hands go inside his boxers and frees his now fully hard cock, giving it a few pumps as he does. Before he can even respond, another *ding* makes his cock twitch.

>>> Attached: Image

It’s a picture of you leaning forward towards the camera, giving a clear shot down your cleavage as you looked up at him, a mischievous smile on your lips, biting your tongue

> Pretty girl. Tease.

>>> im not teaaaasing i actually want to fuck you :p

The blunt text you sent made him gasp, his dick hot in his hands as he worked himself.

> You’ve got a filthy fucking mouth

>>> you can make it filthier if you want ;)

Fuck. His throws his head back jerks himself faster, before stopping to squeeze the base of his cock. Fuck I want her to suck me so bad. Before he even registers what he’s doing, he hits the “Facetime” button to call you.

>>> [y/n] is unavailable for FaceTime

He groans in frustration. Fuck, i wanna see her.... she really is a fucking tease.

>>> we cant facetime right now im doing naughty thingssssss

>>> this convo is making me crazzyyyy shhh

> Good. That’s a good girl.

>>> *Incoming Facetime call from [y/n]*

Too easy, he thinks. He chuckles as he swipes open the call. The camera is angled at the ceiling, the room dimmed.

He chuckles into the phone. “All I had to say was ‘good girl’ and suddenly you calling me now, huh?”, he says, cocky as all hell.

“Hmmm....”, he hears you say, drawing out the ‘mmm’ suspiciously.

“Hmmmmm?” he questions back, mimicking you. “What’re you doing right now, [y/n]?”

“M’, Ummmmm, nothing....” he hears you say faintly, innocently, phone still pointed at the ceiling. He thought he was imagining it at first, but he can barely hear the sound of fabric shuffling and shifting on your end.

“Nothing? Doesn’t sound like nothing, pretty girl”, he teases, stoking his now leaking cock. He sighed heavily on purpose, suggestively, making sure you heard him.

“What’re you doing right now?” you asked lightly, breathlessly.

He feels himself starting to slowly lose his restraint when he hears your breathy voice. “If I tell you, will you tell me?”, he grumbled, panting obviously now, loudly and into the phone, clearly out of breath from the effort of jerking himself off, hard

He hears you sigh, the sound of shuffling fabric getting louder. He hears you shift in bed. “Yes”, you say.

Through obvious gasps, he grills you: “You promise you gonna tell me what you’re doing, hmm, baby? You gonna tell me what you’re doing after you made me so fucking hard for you?”

He hears you moan loudly now, obviously meant for him to hear, panting.

“I’m stroking my fucking dick right now, that’s what I’m doing. I’m thinking about bending you over and fucking you stupid” he moans in unison with you, hearing himself admit it making him feel even dirtier

“Are you touching yourself, [y/n]? Your pussy wet for me? Hmm?” He hears your high-pitched moan and your body shift quickly in your bed.

“Use your words, I wanna hear that pretty little mouth say my fucking name”, he commands, heat flushing his face.

“Ung! - Eren...ugh....” you finally mewl, sounding just as desperate as he was to cum

“Fuck i wanna stuff my cock in your mouth so fucking bad, [y/n]” he moans, babbling off strings of dirty talk, barely able to catch his breath as he gets closer and closer. “You’re a naughty little girl aren’t you? Were you touching your pussy while you were texting me? Hmmm? Dirty girl. You wanted me to make you cum, yeah? You thinking about my dick fucking into that messy little pussy? I wanna hear you say it you needy little---ahhh! fuck. speak to me.”

You finally break your silence: “Ugh, Eren, ah!-- you’re gonna make me--fuck, you’re gonna make me--!”

Fuck

He lets out a string of swear words, cursing through both your orgasm and his: “ah, fuck thats such a good fucking girl yes, cum for me baby, cum on daddys cock, cum on this fucking cock babe, uuung...!”

As you both catch your breath from the thrill that just ran through both your bodies, he pants “That....was hot”.

“Yeah”, he hears you say, the camera finally moving away from the ceiling and onto you. You looked dazed, a thin sheen of sweat smudging your makeup. Still, a satisfied smiled was painted on your pretty face. “You’re so hot. Wow. I haven’t cum that hard in a long time. Next time you’ll have to come over?”

“See you then, princess”

#eren jeager #eren jeager smut #Eren yeager #eren yeager smut #eren jeager one shot #eren yeager oneshot #aot smut #attack on Titan #attack on Titan smut #eren smut #eren oneshot #Eren filth #Eren #aot #this was originally gonna be Levi but oh well #aot fanfiction #smut

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emmymaehereeeeee · 3 years ago

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heeeeyyyy emmyyyyy

so i had my first day of college classes today and i figured i’d tell you about them😩

so first of all for context i go to kind of a religious school?? idk not my choice🫡 so my first class was philosophy of the human person (snooze fest) and uhhhh my teachers lowkey a dilf???? he was GIVING likeeee 😩i literally cant it was so hot and i ughhh. i have no words all i could think was “professor/student” trope bc bruh he fr gave off like shy vibes but bro he also fr could be a freak in the sheets BC of the shy vibes. like manz had a quiet voice and everything and he wore GLASSES and lowkey that’s mad attractive to me for some reason idk i’m weird. but gorl, he took off his suit jacket and then rolled up his sleeves mmmm😩like it wasn’t even hot in the classroom it was like a freezer fr. i wasn’t even listening to what this man was saying all i was looking at were his hands bc MMMM VEINS AND HANDS BRUHHHH. it was a good class even tho i didn’t pay attention lololol

my next class of the day was a night class (boooo) and it was precalc (*gag*) and it wAS 2 HOURS AND 40 MINUTES LONG LIKE WHAT. granted it only meets once a week bUT WHY😭 there’s a 10am class for it that meets 3x a week but ehhh i think im gonna stick to the night class that way i’m not being like “fuuucckkkk i have math today” 3x a week and i can only say that once a week🥲but we have 3 assignments to turn in this week already bc it’s like 3 classes within one day so😃👍. tbh i don’t even remember what the teacher said bc he went so fast and i suck at math so👁🫦👁. guess i’ll fail but it’s fine

anyways both classes sUCKED ASS THEY WERE SO BORING.

BABES WE LOVEEEEE A DILF PROFESSOR, THERE IS ONE TEACHER THAT I HAVE THAT I AM LIKEEEE MMMMM HE PROBS GOT SOME ACTION IN THE BED LIKE MEN WHO WEAR RINGS AND BLAZERS AND WHO CAN COMMAND THE ROOM oohhhhhhhhh. i have 3 classes mwf and then I have two classes Tuesday and Thursday

#emmy mae chats with nonnies

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mist-the-wannabe-linguist · 4 years ago

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Asks! :]

1. Do you wish you had a different name/want to change your name

2. Last dream you had or you remember

3. Favourite soup

4. Song currently stuck in your head

5. Favourite dinosaur(s)

6. Tell me name of a movie more people should watch

1. Honestly dunno, on the internet I really vibe with Mist which I've been using since at least 2017 and irl I prefer my actual name (well, a shortened form since the full name always makes me go "oh shit what did I do") but I'm slowly getting used to my internet name being used irl by my classmates. But I definitely don't want to change my name legally

2. Last dream was from the night between Monday and Tuesday this week, the dream was just me doing my job of mail delivery but with some minor spooky shit mixed in for whatever reason and then it switched to me being at the dorms and realizing I did my job wrong/forgot something/didn't finish it in time. When I woke up I was really stressed because I couldn't remember if I actually did everything right in the job that Monday. Still don't but it's too late to worry about it so yeah

3. Kulajda, it's sort of like a milk soup with potatoes and hardboiled egg in it. Some people put mushrooms and dill in it but I hate mushrooms and we don't use dill either. We usually make it for Christmas and it's very soft and filling and tasty and makes serotonin go brrr

Second favourites are bean soup or lentils soup with heavily roasted sausage. Salty and fatty and mmmmm

4. Good Kid from The Lightning Thief musical. Even though I've never seen it and never cared about the books either. I just saw it used in a Warrior Cats animation

Specifically this cover

5. All time fave velociraptor at least since I was like 4. Both the real life animal and the Jurassic Park version. And dromaeosaurids in general. Sinornithosaurus. Yi qi. Love me sum wyvern looking lad

6. Habermann/Habermannův mlýn in Czech, if youre interested in WWII but I think it's worth a watch even if not, because of the psychology and to see how bad the situation was back then. But watch it in Czech with subtitles, I heard the English dubbing is shit

Also Master & Commander: The Far Side Of The World

Because fuck yes

#thanks for the ask <3

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bamf-jaskier · 4 years ago

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mmmmm fringilla vibes? bc shes your icon and u kick major butt and are very smort :)

That is a massive compliment. Fringilla so my fav. She’s great. I want her vibes and command

How do u perceive me? Voice?

#asks

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starbuck · 5 years ago

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Terror Notes: “Go For Broke”

well… I guess I’m really doing this! Some proper, bullet-pointed notes for each episode of The Terror, starting with ep 1: Go For Broke!

I wrote these out last night (and edited them this morning to make them readable - you’re welcome!) so I hope that y’all enjoy my thoughts and assorted nonsense! I tried to save my comments for points I actually wanted to make because I feel like they bring something to the table but I still ended up writing A Lot lol

I love that Crozier couldn’t even be bothered to be present in welcoming Sir John and Fitzjames onto Terror, making Little and Hodgson do it by themselves. One could argue that he had important captain-y things to be doing at that time or something but I’m not 100% sure that wasn’t the case.

idk if it’s just the angle, but I paused the episode just as the shot of the officer’s mess is coming in from above and Hodgson’s hands make me so uncomfortable. They look so bone-y and weird. (Just what you came here for, I know. Hand commentary.)

Cannot tell you how uncomfortable it is, after many rewatches, to listen to Fitzjames recounting in a casual, lighthearted manner 1) shooting people 2) people catching fire (and burning to death), and 3) their burning flesh smelling “like roast duck” (so, like something edible) and it’s even more uncomfortable to have the closeup be on Hodgson’s face as he laughs at the ‘roast duck’ comparison.

On a lighter note: I love that Fitzjames felt the need to remind everyone what size cherries are by illustrating it with his fingers. In case they forgot, I guess? As someone who occasionally speaks unnecessarily with my hands, big mood tbh.

I LOVE it when Fitzjames gives Little that affirmative tap on the arm after he compares Fitzjames’s injury to Lord Nelson’s. My friend Eli and I refer to it as The Fitzjames Arm Tap. I would like a Fitzjames Arm Tap, pretty please.

God, Sir John loudly setting his hands on the table to try to dispel the tension from the ‘birdshit island’ debacle as he attempts to change the subject is so funny. I’m gonna stop just pointing out things I find funny soon, I swear, but I just cannot handle this scene.

Between Hodgson looking horrifically embarrassed by Crozier’s outburst at Fitzjames and Little looking nervous when Crozier shoots him a look as Sir John says that there’s no reason to be concerned about the ice, it really does seem that they were having to ‘manage’ him even back in ep 1 when his alcoholism wasn’t completely out of hand.

Personal sidenote about this: My Pop-pop is often rude to workers in stores and restaurants (he doesn’t drink thank goodness but he has Alzheimer’s coming on which has worsened his temper) so I very much understand the feeling of being on-edge that an outburst is going to occur and trying to deal with the fallout when it does. Just going by my own experience, I can imagine Little apologizing to Fitzjames for Crozier’s rudeness as soon as they were out of Crozier’s earshot (not that anything Little could say would heal the deep psychological wound that Crozier created but hey, it’s something).

The way that Sir John brushes aside Dr. MacDonald’s and Crozier’s concerns about moving Young when he’s in such bad shape never fails to upset me but also ~foreshadowing for hauling the ill on boats oooohhh~

I said I was done pointing out random things that amuse me but the speed and agility with which Des Voeux pops out of the hatch and onto the deck after Orren falls into the water is just so funny. I could watch that two second clip on repeat all day. Might gif it so I actually can.

Is this a good time to point out that there’s also a scene in Moby-Dick where someone falls from high up on a mast and drowns? It’s in a chapter all about bad omens experienced by the crew of the Pequod and The Terror definitely has some similar vibes going on with the sun dogs displayed in the establishing shot of Erebus in that scene and David Young, a “warning of things to come,” on his way over.

The second(?) time I watched the part where Young tells Stanley that he didn’t think anything of getting headaches since he’s always gotten them, I had this thought pass through my head that was like “oh god, I had chronic migraines for years so I’d never have known if I had lead poisoning either!” but then I realized that this probably was not a relevant concern I should have.

Not sure I have any deep commentary on this but as Gore informs Sir John and Fitzjames about the blocked propeller, he’s standing in the same spot, in the same room as Goodsir will stand next episode to tell them about his death.

Also regarding this scene, I love how Gore waits for Fitzjames to give him the go-ahead to leave before actually going. I know that Fitzjames is his superior officer too but, since Sir John already dismissed him, it seems like waiting for Fitzjames’s approval isn’t really necessary, yet a nice thing to do. Perhaps this is a legitimate formality, but something similar happens later in this episode in the command meeting when Crozier asks Gore how many sun dogs he’s seen; he looks to Fitzjames and waits for his nod before answering Crozier. He doesn’t look to Sir John, he looks to Fitzjames. I know that we know essentially nothing about Gore but like.. underrated ship???? Just saying…

Ten nights ago, I was unable to get to sleep for at least an hour because I started thinking about David Young’s saying “I want to go to my grave as I am” and, of course, that ultimately doesn’t happen for him but also, this, like all things about him, is a “warning of things to come.” I’m pretty sure that no one else was properly buried until, arguably, Fitzjames and ironically, that was explicitly not what he wanted done with his body (and, since his grave was later looted by Hickey, similar to the way that Young’s autopsy ultimately achieved nothing, it didn’t really matter anyway).

I know that this happened exactly ten days ago because I forced myself to wake up and write it down in my notes app, lest I forget, which only prolonged my sleeplessness. I suffer for my analysis.

Ah yesssss Tozer’s lesbian haircut. We love it! Why does my hair not look like that when I take a hat off? I’d like to file a complaint.

Was just thinking the other day about how Hartnell being the one to notice that there was something up with the ice in ep 1 is followed up on with Blanky complimenting Hartnell’s ability to read the ice to Crozier in ep 7. I wonder if Blanky ever gave him like. ice-reading lessons after becoming aware of his interest and natural talent at it in ep 1? That makes me happy to think about.

The two people who we’re shown awoken by Young’s screaming are Sgt. Bryant and Morfin and like. Do I even have to explain why that’s an Oof?

The way that Goodsir hesitates before knocking on Stanley’s door and Stanley irritatedly closing his book before answering the knock in an exasperated voice would be comedic in any other context. If I’m being honest, it still makes me laugh. As does Stanley’s “As if that weren’t plain.”

I’ve pointed this out before but mmmmm... that shot of Stanley in profile with the open candle flame in the background… the foreshadowing in this ep is thicker than the smoke at… Oh alright, I’ll stop.

God, the autopsy/dive scene…. Collins being lowered down and entering the water paralleled with Goodsir’s initial cutting into Young’s corpse, the breaking up of the ice paralleled with the cutting of the bone-saw. But most significant to me is the parallel of what is seen/not seen and the long-term effect that this has. Collins sees Orren’s corpse (and then presumably never tells anyone about it), reinforcing his guilt over Orren’s death, the beginning of his mental health decline. Goodsir doesn’t see the cause of Young’s death in his autopsy and this not knowing about the lead poisoning until it’s too late to do anything about it is the cause of many of Goodsir’s later problems as well. And, to finish it all off, both the autopsy and Collins’ dive were ultimately for nothing (considering a spinning propeller is useless when your ships are frozen in).

Crozier and Blanky’s simultaneous face journeys as Sir John rambles on about how there’s nothing to worry about and they’ll find the passage any day now are truly legendary.

I wrote some pretty extensive tags on this already but man… Crozier’s comment about how not all of Sir John’s men returned from one of his previous arctic expeditions is just so nasty and awful. Like, yes, Sir John is wrong to undersell the danger they’re in and Crozier is advocating for the correct position here, but that was completely uncalled for and horrible to say, particularly in a command meeting, in front of so many people. And Sir John looks legitimately upset by it too. He gets over it quickly, at least on the outside, but I still feel really bad for him (and I NEVER feel bad for Sir John so this is weird for me).

“But of course we will not be abandoning Erebus, or Terror…” Let’s check back in six episodes and see how that’s going!

Crozier slamming his fist on the table to prove he’s not being melodramatic reminds me of this one post (that I sadly can’t find rn) about Jesus Christ Superstar that’s like “‘CUT OUT THE DRAMATICS’ Judas hollered dramatically.” It’s such an Overall Mood.

I don’t have a developed commentary on this at the moment but it’s an interesting reverse-parallel that Sir John had no concern for Young’s well-being when he was alive, ignoring Crozier’s concerns about moving him from ship-to-ship when he was in such poor health, yet now that he’s dead, Sir John is the one to recommend that Young be buried which Crozier is surprised by, and seems to feel is unnecessary.

There’s been so much amazing commentary already made about Young’s burial scene so I’ll skip it except to say that Hickey’s irritated sigh when he hears footsteps coming towards the grave is SO funny. That’s exactly how I feel when I know that someone is about to tell me something that will annoy me.

Goodsir was really getting into the emotion of Sir John’s “eulogy”/motivational speech before he remembered the promise he made about Young’s ring. Also, what triggered his memory was Sir John saying “We shall earn our loved one’s cheers and embraces,” so no doubt a reminder of the traumatic “Your loved ones will be there in Heaven to welcome you! :)” “I never knew my mother or father” exchange (or maybe just a reminder of the fact that he was supposed to get Young’s ring to his sister but just let me scrape a little humor out of this. God knows I need it).

The shot of Bryant praying in his hammock the night before they get completely frozen-in is honestly deeply upsetting to me. Especially considering he’s a marine so he Did Not Ask To Be Here, yet there he’ll die.

According to Melville, ship’s compasses occasionally spun round-and-round when a ship was caught in a severe storm and this was an incredibly upsetting thing to behold because of how disorienting it was. So, considering that, Fitzjames keeps his composure pretty well but he clearly has some reservations about how things are going and Sir John has no comforting-sounding remark about ‘Magnetic North’ to offer him now.

The bit where Sir John “sees” Crozier, on Terror, turn away from him with a half-smirk on his face is interesting because there’s no way he could have possibly seen Crozier’s expression at that distance and I’m doubtful that he’d even have been able to make out the identity of anyone he might have been able to see on Terror’s deck. So really, it speaks mostly to Sir John’s mental state; his seeing their getting frozen in as a loss against Crozier and imagining that Crozier would see it as a victory for himself.

Ugh the final shot is making me think about @catilinas’s post comparing a shot of the two ships stuck in to the shot of the ink drops from ep 3 and I am LOSING IT but I was losing it anyway because it’s 2AM now and my entire body feels like gelatin.

THANK YOU AND GOODNIGHT!

SEE YOU NEXT TIME!

#the terror #i'm REALLY proud of these!! this was so fun to do!#i definitely intend to do this for each episode #no promises for the timing on that but i legitimately have nothing better to do so lol hopefully ep 2 will happen soon!#hope y'all enjoyyyyyyyy #feel free to add comments if you like or you don't have to! whatever is good - i just appreciate anybody slogging through this lol

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theswiftarmy · 6 years ago

Text

#5 - The Call

The phone rang. Scooter placed the caller on conference call.

“Sara?”

“Hi!” Her voice cheerful. “Is now a good time to chat?”

“It’s as good a time as any.” Scott replied still standing by the window, watching the crowd of Swifties outside the Big Machine offices grow by the second. The street was filled. Every single one of them wearing a shirt with the words ‘FREE TAYLOR SWIFT’ plastered over Taylor’s face on the front. The back read, ‘love her, she’s a lover’. That’s actually pretty witty, Scott thought, and then he wondered where they ordered so many shirts in such a short period of time. Talk about speedy order fulfillment.

“Yeah, about that...” One of Sara’s tactics was to make her opponent question what she said next. You have to make people second-guess themselves, and then hit them straight up with an honest question.

“What does that mean?” Scooter asked.

“Quick question for you, do you have the masters there in the office with you?”

Scott turned from the window, he pointed to the phone and made a scissor motion. Scooter shook his head back, ‘I can handle this!’ he whispered. “They’re in a… Safe location.” He finally replied.

Justin nodded, the cat on his lap also nodded.

“Let me ask you this, would you be willing to bring them with you to the negotiation?” She inquired. As if he had already missed an appointment that had been previously set. Another of Sara’s tactics, make them think they had missed something that never existed in the first place.

“What negotiation? There was no mention of a negotiation before this moment. I was told Taylor just wanted to talk over the phone. You want us to go out there?” Scooter asked. “With HER army of fans?”

Taylor suddenly chimed in on the call, “Scared of meeting me face to face, Scooter?”

Scott rushed across the room, leaving his post at the window, he slammed his finger down on the red END CALL button disconnecting the call.

“What the? As I said before, I can handle this! You don’t own this company anymore, SCOTT. I do!”

“I’m feeling too much hostility here… I’m not quite sure I dig this vibe.” Justin commented.

Scott brushed off Scooter and walked back to the window. “Scooter, you’re not going to like this.”

“What?” He jumped out of the expensive leather chair and rushed to the window.

“Okay, What is she doing?”

“Live streaming.” Justin clued them in, “Just got a notification from my boy, Ed.”

“Taylor’s live streaming?”

“I told you I’d get the inside moves.” Justin made a Billie Eilish ‘DUH’ face.

“Thanks Justin.” They both replied in unison, “Real helpful.”

“I thought you said things were going well between the two of you, as far as talks about her masters?” Justin asked.

“Umm, yeah, like, two weeks ago—” Scooter replied.

“Oh. Well, a lot can change in two weeks… Oooo, that’s a good song idea, mmmmm baby… Uh huh… A lot can change in two weeks… Mmm hmmmm… Oooo ooo ooooooo.” He broke out into song.

“Sounds good. We’ll get you in the studio as soon as this Taylor thing is over.” Scooter said in a distracted manner.

“I already just live streamed it to my Beliebers from my second phone that I use for live streaming, they’re working on the beat for me right now. I watch streams on my first phone, make streams on my second one.”

“How many phones do you have?” Scooter asked.

“Twelve—One for each day of Christmas.”

“Really?” Scott asked, genuinely.

“No, of course not, they each do different things. Come on pops! Keep up with the times! Speaking of live streams, this live stream of Taylor is weird, yo. She’s just singing one of her new songs off the Lover album and everyone is putting a heart emoji on it. But she has an old song playing in the background, why would you sing a new song over an old song? I mean I get what Kanye did with rapping over Gold Digger—Ray Charles in the background, that was genius, but your own song?” Justin started to sing along with the old Taylor Swift song in the background of the video but stopped when he noticed everyone looking at him. “Sorry, that was weird, I guess I can’t help myself. It’s just such a good song! I feel like the old stuff is always classic, for any artist really.”

Scott and Scooter looked over at the other man sitting quietly on the couch beside Bieber then back to Justin. “Maybe she’s trying to start a new trend… Artists should always be trying to reinvent themselves, keep their fans hooked and coming back for more.” Scooter stated.

“True, true, but this is just weird. It’s eerie. Like she’s doing it on purpose, trying to make something happen.”

The expression on Scott Borchetta’s face changed to a much more concerned one. As though he was picking up what Justin was putting down. Almost as if he knew exactly what Taylor was doing by singing to her followers placing the new song over the old track.

The phone rang again.

“This time, let ME handle things!” Scooter yelled at Scott as he pushed the answer call button and placed her on speaker.

“Hi!” It was Sara Swift, again. Her voice sounded, slightly, different this time. He could hear Taylor singing in the background of the call, the same feed as the one from the audio of the live stream, he couldn’t tell exactly why but, Sara sounded different. Then it clicked, Sara’s voice sounded almost Siri-like, Sara “Siri” Swift, Scooter thought. That’s weird.

“Hello Miss Swift.” Scooter spoke in his usual cordial tone. No one makes business deals bossing people around. You’ve got to be friendly to get them on your side.

“Scooter. I think we got cut off there. Everything okay at the office?” Sara spoke in her usual cordial tone with the Siri like addition to it. No one makes business deals bossing people around, you’ve got to be friendly—Get them on your side, she also thought. Two can play at this game.

“Yes. We’re fine.” He glanced at Scott, Justin, and a legal representative from the Carlyle group.

“Oh, good. Just to confirm, where did you say the masters were again?”

Scooter hesitated; he didn’t want any more bad blood on this call after Scott hanging up on her. “They’re right here with me in the office.” He lied. “Safe and sound. I’m looking at them right now, actually!”

“Good.” She replied.

Just then, a loud bang could be heard from below them. It was coming from the ground floor of the Big Machine offices.

“Oh, my, what on earth could that loud sound have possibly been that sounded like someone trying to break down a door—” Sara asked, innocently, in a tone that indicated she already knew the impending answer.

“Whoa, you guys NEED to see this!” Bieber lifted his cat off his lap and placed Sushi on the couch beside him, the cat jumped from the couch to an adjacent coffee table and began to pick through some leftover sushi— I mean what did you expect to happen when you leave sushi around with a cat named Sushi around? Justin raced towards Scooter and Scott, oblivious to his cat beginning to gnaw on the very last Alaska roll in the container. Boy that’s a tongue twister. Last-a-las-ka-roll, say that ten times fast!

Scott viewed the phone screen from an angle while Scooter took hold of the phone. “They’re about to bust through the main front office doors—” Scott commented in a matter of fact voice as Justin doubled back to try and save his sushi from his cat Sushi, it was too late. The sushi was gone.

“You realize we’re watching our own demise, right?” Scott continued speaking in a voice reminiscent of Professor Snape from The Harry Potter series.

Scooter tossed the mobile phone across the room back to Bieber and leaned in towards the conference telephone device sitting on the desk, “Sara, tell your client to stop this nonsense. This is not how you act professionally. We’re talking! Taylor said she wanted to talk, SO, let’s TALK!”

“Mmmm… Baby, let’s talk…” Justin started to sing again.

“Not now Justin. Not now.” Scooter said, ruffled. “Tell Taylor to get back on the phone.”

Sara noted Scooter’s agitation and continued in her cordial cheerful Siri-like voice, “I’m sorry, Scooter, I don’t tell Taylor what to do, she outranks me—Taylor outranks us all…”

Another loud bang from downstairs could be felt beneath their feet.

“Sara, what does that mean? Listen, we’re all adults here. Just… just, tell Taylor to stand down, tell her to command her Swifities to STAND DOWN—“ The call ended abruptly. “Hello? Miss Swift? Sara? Are you still there?”

Scooter sat for a minute dumbfounded. What the heck is happening? This is not real life, right now… This is… Madness. He thought.

Another loud thunderous thud followed by the sound of broken glass shattering on the floor “They’re through the first floor doors! They’ve broken through all the windows!” Justin held up his phone to display the live stream feed.

“Quick everyone, to the helipad on the roof!” Scott shouted to the group.

“You have a helipad on the roof? Of Big Machine Records? That wasn’t on the tour when I bought the place.” Scooter questioned, perplexed.

“It’s a new addition.” The Carlyle legal rep explained.

“Well how convenient.” Scooter replied.

Another loud bang as a second wave of Swifties poured in through the entrance. They could hear chanting in the distance growing louder, “TAY-LOR! TAY-LOR! TAY-LOR!”

“Uh, guys… Let’s get moving here!” Scott screamed out, raising his voice.

Justin grabbed Sushi, his cat, not the leftover container of sushi, just in case anyone needed clarification; they rushed to the back stairs and climbed their way up to the helipad on the roof. The Swift Army continued to swiftly storm the Big Machine offices, a full-scale attack.

Scott led the pack as they emerged on the roof to a waiting helicopter, blades starting to spin faster and faster.

As the blades whirred, they created a heavy wind, making it hard to walk. Justin’s cat jumped out of his arms as they neared the helicopter on the rooftop helipad, “Oh no! SUSHI!” The sound of the helicopter scared the cat back to the edge of the open rooftop access door.

“Justin, we have to go!” Scott yelled over the sound of the spinning blades.

“No! Not without my cat!”

“JUSTIN, LEAVE THE CAT!” Scooter ordered.

“I have to go back!” Justin pleaded.

Just then the first wave of Swifites arrived at the door, one of them scooping the cat up in her arms.

“GET IN THE HELICOPTER JUSTIN!” Scott and Scooter yelled to him as he looked longingly back at his cat. A Swiftie smiled at him as she held the cat in her arms, he recognized her, a once faithful Belieber, but she had been turned… She was now a Swiftie soldier.

Justin pushed back tears; he ran to the door of the helicopter and was helped inside. The door slammed shut and the helicopter lifted into the air just as a flood of Swifties poured out onto the helipad. They formed a semicircle around the doorway, Taylor strode slowly from the entranceway walking with prowess and purpose, walking… with power—with pride. She was handed the cat by the Swifitie soldier who had captured the prisoner of war. Taylor continued her live stream now with Justin’s feline friend in the frame. She held Sushi up for the camera to see and walked to the edge of the rooftop and held the cat high in the air, the Swifties in the streets below Big Machine cheered at sight of the cat capture. The KatyCats and Animals also yelped and howled and yelled out. The Lion King song played. No, I’m just kidding, The Lion King song didn’t play, but that would be funny if it did, right? It’s like when Simba was held up on the rock—Wait, why am I explaining this, you know what reference I’m making here. Anyway, back to the story—

An officer of The Swift Army emerged from the rooftop doorway slightly out of breath, “The masters aren’t here, Taylor. We searched the office, we’ve searched all of Big Machine. They lied. They must have them!” She pointed to the helicopter in the sky hovering above them.

Taylor smirked. “That’s okay, we have something they want, now. Don’t we, widdle kitty, awww… You’re a little cutie, aren’t you? You’re going to stay with us for a while, we’ll make you an honorary Swiftie kitty.” She said with smile. The Swifties around her smiled back. Taylor handed the cat to a team of KatyCats working in alliance with the Swifties. “Keep that cat safe. NO ONE lets that cat out of their sight.” Taylor commanded.

The KatyCat kitty cat guards nodded back.

“Also, put it in a really cute cage. And go get some treats and fancy food and toys for the cage too—My heart melts. Such a cute cat.”

“Yes Taylor.” They replied before ushering the cat away.

@taylorswift

#taylor swift #taylor swizzle #justin bieber #cats #theswiftarmy #the lion king #big machine records #big machine label group #katycats #lover #billie eilish #@taylorswift #istandwithtaylor #ed sheeran

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soignante · 6 years ago

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J (for Kintsugi), V, and T!

I’mna save J for last. T: I don’t know about “can’t stand,” but I am intensely turned off by the dominant/submissive trope that seems to keep reasserting itself in the phandom. Christines who are frail, submissive, and helpless just make me worry. I just want them to get some therapy and leave all these men behind them. Similarly, abusive Erik and abusive Raoul stories bug the nuts out of me, especially if the story never addresses the abuse in a serious enough way. I get it; that is what floats a lot of people's boat. I just wish it were more clearly signaled in the intro. I’ve gotten into a couple of phics, really liked them, and then this weird D/s vibe just...starts. V: Mmmmm.... I think I’d write a sequel to “Balcony Duet” by @sfiddy They ended it in exactly the right place, but I was digging the relationship between those two characters and just. wanted. more.

J: oh, wow. an alternate ending... I legit never imagined it ending any other way. Mmmm... but if I did:{{After clearing the land for days, Nadir, Erik and Christine stand just outside the perimeter of the building. Corrugated metal does not burn, but the cut, gasoline doused, and rapidly drying brush stuffed in every room and corridor will. They can only hope that the conflagration will be sufficient to bring the whole of that hell down. Christine hands Erik a wine bottle half full of a pungent fluid and trailing a long white rag. He looks down at it and across to her. A small smile crooks one corner of her mouth and is answered on his. “Light it?” He looks to Nadir, man of the law, and extends the Malatov cocktail, still with a grin creasing his withered face.“I still think we could ha...” Nadir begins.“Light it.” For such a diminutive person, Christine produces an impressive tone of command. Shrugging off a mental litany of the misdemeanors and felonies they are committing, Nadir raises his silver-plated Zippo lighter and the rag is aflame. With a calm fluidity, Erik sends the dangerous thing sailing through ‘his’ door. A satisfying crash and the sound of flames leaping to life confirms that his aim was true. With the sunset behind them and flames leaping ever higher before them, they stood arm in arm, as Erik’s past burned to the ground. When sirens sounded in the distance, they ran, laughing like children. Free.}}If I did, it would be something like that.

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hummingbird-and-the-bear · 5 years ago

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We'd been working together again for around 3 weeks and it was around day two that I realised wearing underwear was a waste of time. We worked well together, you being the front man doing the sales talk, and me happy to be in the background, on your lap mostly, doing the paperwork. We started early to get work done before play and you were always there before me in the morning to greet me with fresh coffee.

"Morning baby", I said, plonking myself across your lap and cupping your face for a kiss. Our hands are everywhere as always, we have this magnetic attraction to each others skin and smells that keeps us addicted. I rub my thigh into your crotch as you unbutton my blouse, cupping each breast for a kiss, your tongue running firmly over each nipple and sucking gently as I shudder in delight.

"Morning girls" you growl, showing restraint as you button them up again. Your left hand travels under my skirt for your morning check.

"Mmmmm, wet already?", you murmur as your finger runs lightly over my lips, swirling once inside before you bring your index to your lips to taste me.

"Always", I grin as I remove myself and walk to my desk across from you. My nipples are hard as rocks and so sensitive that I partially regret not wearing a bra as the sensation of them rubbing against my blouse is quite intense.

We settle into our morning routine, you make sure the teams are on site, sorting any issues and making appointments for new jobs, while I get started on finalising yesterdays quotes. Is barely 10am andI'm quite lost in my spreadsheets when I hear your command.

"Hands".

Wordlessly I walk around to your desk, removing my blouse and discarding it on the floor, and lean forward, placing each palm on the marks at the front edge. You unzip my skirt and slide it down my legs and I am left naked except for my heels. I part my long legs slightly, presenting myself. You slide a drape of loop carpet between my front and the desk and I smile at your thoughtfulness to protect my upper thighs from the bruising they had when you pounded me against the desk edge last week. I hear you rummaging in your drawer and shiver as I feel the cool drip of lubricant being squeezed onto my arse. I shiver slightly, knowing what is next, and then moan deeply as I feel the firm glass plug pushing against my hole. It doesn't take much for it to ease past the outer muscle and sink into place as I sigh contentedly. You give it a slow twist and then run your hand down my arse cheek towards my cunt. I expect to feel a finger or tongue against my entrance, instead I feel something foreign being slipped easily into my wet pussy. I clench my pussy around it trying to figure out what is pressed against my walls filling me. You walk around the desk, standing naked before me, your beautiful cock inches for my mouth but not looking at me, and I'm confused as you're busy playing with something on your phone. As the object inside me buzzes to life, you place your phone down looking smug and I realise you are operating the vibe on an app.

"Oh bubba" I manage to mumble happily as your cock enters my warm mouth, my tongue running over your length and sucking you deep. My hips are bucking to the vibrating pattern you have selected...it's teasing a steady beat against my gspot, my arse and mouth are full and I'm moaning around your cock as you start fucking my mouth. The vibe starts increasing its tempo and so do you, holding the back of my head as you force into my throat, I'm swallowing around you and sucking hard as you withdraw in a steady rhythm. My mouth is a slurping mess as your hips buck harder and its not long before you're holding my head pressed against you as you moan my name and your sweet cum explodes into my mouth. You slide out as I gasp for air, panting to catch my breath. I see you're still hard as you walk around behind me and I hear the clank of your belt buckle as you pick it up from the floor. The vibe is pulsing hard but I can't get the relief I need to make me cum, as it edges me to the brink and backs off and I'm moaning in frustration. I let go of the desk with my right hand and reach for my clit to get relief.

"Hands baby", you scold and smack my cunt making me yelp. You pull my elbows back behind me, looping your belt around them so you can raise me slightly from the desk and use it to keep me arched back in position and my hands immobilised. Your fingers find my clit, pinching and rubbing as I moan and beg to cum. You know I need to feel you in me. In one movement the vibe is pulled out and you enter me hard, pulling the belt towards you as you start fucking my needy hole. Every time you ram in to the hilt, the plug in my arse is pushed forward making it feel like both holes are being fucked. My breasts are swinging freely, my nipples grazing harshly against the piece of carpet sending me wild and I realise that its purpose was twofold. The multiple stimulation across my body and your hunger for me is relentless and my moans are increasing as the electricity builds. "Cum for me baby" you say and with those words the rush of bliss explodes as I scream out, my body shuddering, my cunt gushing over you as you continue fucking me through my orgasm and you start to cum also, flooding my insides as you moan my name. Holding yourself tight against me, you release the belt to reach forward and squeeze my breasts in each hand, massaging firmly, as my body still tremors under you. Slowly you withdraw and kneel behind me, lapping at my pussy lips, cleaning my juices, soothing me with your tongue, and chuckling as you set off new tremors through my sensitive lips. You gently undo the belt and lift me back off the desk and onto your lap, cradling me against your chest, holding me tight. My breathing finally calms and you sit me up. You pass your belt behind my neck, threading the buckle at my throat loosely and letting the length fall between my breasts, the end tip of the belt brushing my pussy lips.

"Rest bubba, you're exhausted". You carry me to your couch and lay me down. Your hand slides over my arse and you slowly twist the plug to ensure it's secure. "That can stay there for later". You cover me with a blanket and my heavy eyes close, drifting off in bliss with the smell of your leather belt and its presence around my neck bringing peace to my mind.

I awaken to the sound of you talking on the phone.

**********

You hear me stirring and swivel your chair around, smiling at the sight of me sitting naked with your belt. You beckon me over with a finger while you continue you conversation. With a smile I crawl across the floor and under your desk, positioning myself between your legs, already so hungry to have your cock in my mouth again.

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survivormontenegro · 6 years ago

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Jury Rites of Passage

Before we wrap up this season, here’s what the final 4 had to say about our lovely jury.

Ali - Alex, you were someone who from the cast reveal of this season I was honestly terrified of lowkey. You just give off such a smart, strategic energy that makes you someone who is very daunting to play against, particularly since we didn’t meet till merge and I had just heard stories about your influence from OG Durmitors. While I stand by the necessity of voting you out, in that you held a lot of sway over the tribe, and were seemingly tight with Jones and Mo, I genuinely was so sorry to see how upset you got in the aftermath of your vote. I felt like the move needed to be swift and clean to remove such a threat from the game, but I apologise, a move so brutal and so blindisde-y would’ve been rough to be apart of, and for that I’m really sorry.

Benj - You were one of the first people to make me feel welcome when we swapped together thank u for always being so open to things and ur passion for the game was undeniable.

Caeleb - I can’t tell if Alex is gonna hate me or respect me. Regardless, I had to vote him off because he was too strong of a player. Everyone was just waiting for his command and then running with it, and I didn’t want to play that game. Plus, I didn’t think that Alex was alwaysss being truthful with me and just pulling me along until he was done, so I kinda felt like we had a little showdown. It was either him or me, and while he’s a sweetheart and a really amazing guy, I kinda consider him my TS rival. Love ya. I’m glad we were able to crush butt with our Grandma’s Boys in the premerge.

Tom - oh boy big boy Alex you are a killa of a game player I must say going against you really spooked me because you had a solid group of people but I’m sorry it had to be done :(

Ali - oh my god. When I saw that THE Jules was cast for this season, I can’t even describe how excited I was to play with you. Playing and working with you was everything I could’ve hoped for and more, you are smart, savvy and just a joy to talk to at all times, and we vibed on SO much this game. While I think your robbery was disgusting, I understand why others did it, your savvyness and strategic mind speak for themselves and you were of course a major threat. It’s been a pleasure to work with you and to be able to call you my friend.

Benj - LEGEND!!! When I saw you on the cast reveal I was actually shaking bc as u already know my friends who played almia with you said u were such a queen and so nice and they weren’t wrong!! It was a pleasure to get to play with you even though it was so short, and it was sad that we never really got to strategize and work together game wise but I enjoyed all of our talks sm!

Caeleb - Jules was always fun to talk to. She was super sweet and very good at figuring out where the majority was gonna be in the votes. I was really surprised that she cursed me because while I did tell her that I was gonna vote with her, I didn’t message her for a couple of hours before tribal so I didn’t think I was even being very believable. Overall tho Jules was sweet, fun, a bundle of astrology knowledge, and threw in a little bit of sass to make things lively and interesting.

Tom - wowee Jules you social butterfly icon. I’m sad you were eliminated and that I literally did not help at all by saving you I was in my inactive stage. I commend you on how bloody open you are about your sexuality and gender I guess you really are something special and this is not just because you’re on the jury I love how passionate you are about astrology and hopefully one day you can make something out of it

Ali - I love you and stan you unapologetically. We had a bumpy ride this season, and my one regret from this season, was not telling you about the Alex vote. I’m sure you would’ve been down, and it burned a bridge for me with someone I genuinely trusted and had a lot of time for. While I think your blow-up was ill advised, given that me/Tom/Jason were angling to save you, I can’t fault you for distrusting me after the Alex vote. I felt awful voting you out but once you set my game on fire, with the choice being you vs Tom, I had to side with who had my back and I felt would be a consistent ally moving forwards, so kept Tom and voted for you. You were also apart of some of my highlights from this season, like calling to work through JJ’s… JJness or drinking white wine on the tribe call. I know you’ve now hexed me three times, but I’ll take being hexed a fourth time, if it means we can be friends after this.

Benj - I have never met anyone quite like you before in an org and even though we didn’t talk much your presence in the game was so fun from calls to call outs. Icon! My FB org friends stan u

Caeleb - Easily, the person I talked to the least in the merge, Ian included. For some reason, Julia didn’t want to talk game with me ever, even though we would vote the same. Every conversation we had would kinda trail off with her failing to respond. I know she was active in calls, and since I wasn’t I think that made her write me off. I kinda wish things were different and we could’ve had a different demeanor throughout the season. Who knows maybe we could’ve made something actually happen.

Tom - lol

Ali - MY SON. The Nemo to my Marlin. While we like… never voted together from jury onwards, I am genuinely proud of you this season. We didn’t particularly vibe as players, and I don’t think I ever got the chance to see your strategic mind in action, but you played a great game this season, and I’m super proud of you. You kick-started some of the key debates of the season, like this stupid mountain llama mess, but you also kept the mood light and had a consistent positive impact on the season as a whole.

Benj - (El)MO! You were really nice in the game and we got along well on swapped tribe but didn’t have the best connection at merge so sadly ended up on the opposites sides a lot but I think u played a good game! I loved how happy u were to be here

Caeleb - A hero. I have such a tumultuous relationship now with Grandma’s Boys because I had to vote off Alex first, switch and vote Mo in the revote, and then fail to save Jones in F6. I think they might think I am a little bit scheming and never really was working with them, but honestly, I voted with Mo and Jones post Alex because they both were easily the most fun to talk to in the tribe. Mo was hilarious, a true king, and loyal to a fault. When Benj told me that he was voting Mo, I had a sinking feeling that Mo was gonna leave that day, but I held on hope that Ali would still vote Tom. I’m sorry that didn’t happen Mo.

Tom - this is a shame this one we got along quite well on durmitor then the tribe swap really uhm separated us literally. Two seperate bridges that just never came together unfortunately. Good luck and stay safe on that grindr game u play

Ali - Okay… of all people this season, we have had the most rollercoaster ride I think possible. Whether you know it or not, from me almost voting you out prejury, to voting you publicly at F10, to us somehow working together moving forwards. While I knew you needed to go around the time you were idoled out, I was genuinely so sad to see you go home, because I think you played one of, if not the strongest game this season. You took my vote for you in your stride, and being on calls with you and our weird fake rivalry was so much fun. We were on the first cast reveal together, and I hope we can be friends after this season is all done.

Benj - omg MITCHHHH I wish you had stuck with my plan otherwise you prob would have stayed LOL. King you were one of my favs from the first tribe and we stuck it out thru the swap and kept working together for basically every vote until you left! It was so fun to play w you. Ps… I was the 2nd vote for you when Jared left LMAO… I ofc never wanted u gone but me and Ali didn’t want Jared blowing up the fact we were allies so had one of us randomly vote with him.

Caeleb - The strongest player in this season imo. Like everyone talks about Ali being the favored to win rn because of his immunity run and his social butterfly nature. Mitch was stronger strategically by far. His moves were calculated and always put him in a better spot than he was in before, while also never putting a target on his back. I had my eye on voting him for awhile, and when Jones wanted to idol him out it was like some ESP type shit. He was so strong, and also funny, this season would not have been what it was without him.

Tom - mmmmm big ol mitchy boi is it toiLET or toilet that’s the true question, an amazing ally friend and strategist who was skeptical of everything but had good intentions thank you for saving my ass in this game multiple times because I wouldn’t be here without you

Ali - when people google robbery, if your picture is not the top result, i will SCREAM. It says a lot that we literally never voted together during merge, and yet I stanned for you with my whole heart, and would’ve voted for you in the end. You have this raw likability, that makes you the best ever, but also SUCH a threat in these games, and after your iconic idol play, it was incredibly clear that you were the biggest threat and so critically needed to be voted out. You are such a joy, and I hope we can be friends after the season.

Benj - JONES!!!!!!!!!! Omg I was gagged when I saw that you were playing this season I had heard a lot about you but never met you until now and I was sooooo excited when we got swapped together!! Joining your side back then was such a good decision and ty for making it so easy to accept me and I loved talking to u throughout the whole game even if we were basically on diff sides most of merge! You would have wiped the floor against anyone at the end and I know one day u will get ur win! ILY

Caeleb - My true Grandmother. Honestly, I hope that post-game we can rekindle and be harmonious because I TRULY thought that Jones was one of the friendliest, kind, and joyous people. I worked to get people to switch their votes from Jones in F6, but I kinda expected that it wouldn’t happen because even I recognized that no one could beat Jones in a FTC. I felt like Sierra voting off her mother in BvW. It was truly my saddest day in Montenegro BY FAR.

Tom - I’m sorry Tunnel vision really got you good, You played such an amazing game and honestly to get to final 6 the way you did you should be so proud, you were by far the biggest jury threat because everyone absolutely loved your personality including myself. I really hope we can keep talking on the outside and your artistry takes you amazing places

Ali - I spent 40 days on a tribe with you, and I want to say it was a pleasure throughout. From talking about Big Little Lies to bonding over our warped sleeping patterns, we genuinely really vibed as people. One thing I loved about our relationship, was our ability to be rational and logical, even when we voted against each other, after the Jules and Ian votes particularly. I genuinely had so much respect for you as a player and your attitude after the Ian vote, and it was something I attempted to mirror after the Jules vote. You had to go at F5, because you played a phenomenal game, surviving being one vote from going home at merge, and it was for that reason I had to vote you out, but it’s been a pleasure, all fourty days of it.

Benj - We had the most up and down relation probably of anyone LOL from me voting you 4 times to us working together for the rest, it really was a ride and even tho we weren’t the most connected im so glad u had such a great season to return to after so long !

Caeleb - Omg go get ur Donna Summer record. Jason was probably the person I talked to a bunch but barely talked game with. We were always on differing sides of the vote, and kinda to my own demise for many of those, but as a result we talked about different things like eggs and records and gay stereotypes. It was a bold and profitable move when we talked post-Ian vote and set us both up for success for the rest of merge. Let's talk soon :)

Tom - Ahhhhhhh my closest ally in this game, i am so proud of the way we survived this game. I was really skeptical about working with you on budva but i am so glad i stuck to my gut of working with you and ian. Round 1 of merge we got absolutely blindsided and destroyed and every since then we had to fight so damn hard every single round to survive together. We were arguably the tightest duo in the game, we voted together every single round , 23 votes combined 8 tribal councils we were targeted at yet we made final 5 together. Through the dark times we stayed loyal to each other and got ourselves in such an amazing position in this game by getting with mitch and ali whilst also working caeleb. We truly went from the bottom to the fucking top and as much as i dont think i can pull this one out for us, i will give it my best shot. It was an amazing experience with you through all of our paranoia and stress that people were going to split us apart. Lets hope lightning strikes twice and i can pull out this win for you and ian because you both deserve to be right next to me <3 <3 Luv you mountain llama <3 <3

#rites of passage

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