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#she opens the door. diary in hand. and she's too late
fandoms--fluff · 6 months
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Mud and Suds
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Flufftober, October 3rd
3 year old Salvatore sister reader x Stefan Salvatore x Damon Salvatore
Summary: Damon makes Stefan give you a bath from you being all dirty, and it backfires on him just a bit
Warnings: None, fluff overload
A/n: may be a bit ooc, but it's really stinkin cute
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It’s been two hours since you went outside carrying a plastic shovel and two different sized containers.
“She’s been out there for a while, what’s she doing?” Damon brought up, looking outside through the open door and can barely see you because you’re too far away. 
“Well you can always check on her” Stefan pointed out, looking up from writing in his diary.
Damon shrugged and went out, walking towards where you were sitting, surrounded by different blobs of dirt and mud. You built all of them forming a little mud kingdom of your own surrounding your vicinity. He walked up to you, noticing all of the mud smeared on your clothing, face, arms, and legs. He raised an eyebrow wondering how you managed that. 
“Hey, Kiddo, I think it’s time to go inside and clean you up” Damon crouched down in front of you. 
“Bu’ mud, Day Day” you pointed at your creations, and called your brother by his nickname.
“Its getting late, you can continue tomorrow, alright?” Damon said and you nodded.
You stood up and walked over to Damon, avoiding destroying any of the mud castles. He took one of your muddy hands and walked you into the house.
"Don't you even think about it" Damon said when you were about to pull away from him and run around the house.
You looked up at him and stuck your tongue out before seeing Stefan sitting in one of the chairs. "S'efan!" You exclaimed and ran over to your other big brother. You wrapped your arms around his legs, unnoticlingly smearing mud all over his pants.
"Hello to you too, y/n/n" Stefan sighed when he saw all the mud on him.
Stefan looked over to your guys' older brother and pressed his lips together for a moment. "At least she only ran four meters away?" Stefan shrugs.
"Really? Well for that, guess who's on bath time duty? You" Damon told him before walking up to his room.
"Okay. Let's go get you all cleaned up! And let's get all these muddy clothes cleaned" Stefan picked you up, not caring about more mud getting on him since he already has to change anyways. "Yeah!" You exclaimed, leaning your head against his shoulder.
He carried you on his hip up the stairs and to his bathroom. Once he got there, he sat you down on the counter for a second while he turned the tap on to gave the bathtub filling up.
"Let's get you out of these dirty clothes, and if you're good during the whole bath, you can sleep in Damon's bed tonight" Stefan smiled, getting back at Damon for leaving him alone with a mud covered and energetic you to get cleaned and ready for bed.
"Yea, Day Day! Bubbles?" You asked him. "Yes, you can have bubbles in your bath" Stefan agrees. He grabbed the bottle of lavender scented bubbles from under his sink that he bought for you a couple months ago.
After he poured some of it in under the running tap, he came back over to you. Getting you out of the clothes was fairly easy to him. Usually you'd have put up a fight about having a bath, but today you're cooperating easily.
"Ready!" You exclaimed and raised your arms in excitement. "Yes you are, good job!" Stefan brang you over to the tub and slowly raised you into the warm water. "Is it too hot?" He asked. You shook your head, immediately playing with the bubbles.
"Okay, I'm going to be back in just a second, I'm going to get all your muddy clothes into the hamper, and change out of my now muddy clothes, you got it?" He said softly.
"Otay" you said before splashing with the bubbles again.
Stefan ruffled your wavy hair before picking up the pile of small muddy clothing. He vamped out of the bathroom connected to his room. He quickly put all yours and his muddy clothes into an empty laundry bin and changed into a tshirt and sweatpants.
When he got back into the bathroom, there was water splashed onto the ground. "Really?" he deadpanned, to which you just giggled back.
Stefan just shook his head with a small smile. He came over to you with a washcloth and body wash. He washed all the mud off of you quickly, surprised that you stayed still the entire time.
"Okay, last time, cover your eyes" Stefan told you, holding a cup of water above your head to rinse out the final suds of shampoo out of your hair. Your head was tilted back just a bit.
You covered our eyes with your tiny hands, while also squeezing them shut. Stefan slowly poured the water over your head, making sure to get the last of the shampoo out.
"Alright! All done" Stefan tells you. You removed your hand from your face and tilted your head back to normal. "Bath 'inished?" You ask.
"Yep, it's finished, time to dry you off and get into your pajamas" Stefan told you and lifted you out of the tub with a towel and quickly wrapped it around your body.
He undid the stopper, letting the water drain out before walking out of his room and over to yours. He placed you on your bed, all dry becuase of the towel now and walked over to your dresser.
He pulled open one of the drawers with your pjs in them. "Do you care which one?" He asked you. "Uh-uh" you shook your head.
Stefan picked out a light purple and white striped lonsleeve and bottoms. "Okay, stripes it is" he said. He dressed you in the pajamas as you started to nod off.
"Day Day" you quietly said, realizing Stefan had picked you up into his arms again. "Mhm, let's go see drop you off with Damon" Stefan said, to which you giggled at.
When Stefan walked into Damon's room, he looks up from where he's sat in his chair. "What do I owe the privilege of seeing my baby siblings" he smirked at Stefan's slightly offended face from being called a 'baby sibling'.
"Oh, just a little gift" Stefan passed you over to him.
"S'eep in Day Day's bed!" You told him before nuzzling into his chest.
"I told her if she was good during her bath she could sleep in your room tonight and she was!" Stefan told him, answering his confused stare.
Stefan quickly bolted out of the room when he got the death glare from Damon, "Have fun!" He yelled before closing his door.
You just giggled at your older brother's expression and poked his face multiple times. "Good thing you're my favorite" Damon whispered in your ear.
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chuuyrr · 8 months
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WOULD'VE BEEN — BEAST! DAZAI OSAMU
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౨ৎ CW(s): gn! reader, beast!au, angst/romance, kinda short
౨ৎ SYNOPSIS: in which dazai osamu's timeless love for you knows no bounds, even in another life.
inspired by: timeless and enchanted by taylor swift !
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it was late afternoon when dazai passes by an antique shop down the block that didn't have customers, but a voice in the back of his head urges him to stop on his tracks and check it out.
drawn towards the antique shop, dazai feels his own feet move and his hands push the door open, causing the bell at the top of the frame to chime as he steps inside.
there was an elderly lady at the cashier and maintaining the antique shop, but when she saw the man clothed in black with a bandaged eye, her face wrinkled into a warm smile as she welcomed him inside. he could see how the old lady was taken aback by his look, yet she remained kind as he was a customer.
dazai merely nods curtly in response to the old lady's greeting before wandering about the shop, unfazed of the old lady's watchful gaze.
he couldn't care less about the trinkets, keychains, and accessories in here, but then his gaze fell upon an open box of pictures, and curiosity gets the best of him when he notices the sign above the open box of old pictures, seeing how each only sold for a couple of cents.
dazai quietly finds himself reaching into the box and seeing that it contains photographs, which appear to have been taken years ago given that they are all in black and white.
he discovers an image of a couple holding hands at the porch of their first home, and then another, but this time it was a photograph of high school sweethearts, laughing and holding hands, looking so happy with genuine smiles.
all of the photographs he sees next show a kind of love that only comes along once in a lifetime.
dazai takes a long breath, his hand reflexively grasping the pictures a little too tightly, causing them to crumple slightly.
normally, something as sentimental as these photographs wouldn't make him feel anything, but when he looked at them again, he saw a different person.
dazai saw you and him instead, and he wished it had really been the two of you instead.
that's when his thoughts turned to you, and you filled his entire mind with questions after questions.
would you have looked at him in the same way just like the lover to his beloved in the photos did? even in the middle of a crowded street?
perhaps in another life, dazai muses as he puts the images back in the box—just not in this one, sadly.
dazai keeps wandering around the antique shop, discovering new things like a stack of books covered with cobwebs.
he takes one in his hand and silently flips through the pages, which are already brown and worn from time, and it doesn't take him long to realize it's a diary. but as he reads the sentences in quiet, he finds himself scoffing, his gaze narrowing as he picks up on the story in it.
what was this antique shop doing to him?
was it to rub in his face of what could've been?
it was just cruel and twisted.
the bell by the door opening brings him back to reality as he feels the heavy burden on his shoulders again. dazai sighs to himself as puts the cobweb-covered book back and turns his head, ready to leave now that there is another customer in the antique shop besides him.
but dazai is unable to move and stands still, completely surprised, by what he sees.
"oh, my. why haven't i come here before?" you exclaim in a soft gasp of wonder as you look around the antique shop with curiosity.
it was you in all your grandeur, looking the same as you did in another life, still smiling warmly, and he is amazed and falls in love all over again at the sight of you in front of him.
the story breaks down his mind and body as it seems to halt when you walk into the shop, catching his eyes and finding the story starting when your eyes finally meet his and you speak.
"hello," your voice was as soothing and kind as it had always been, and it sounded like music to his ears, and dazai had missed it so much.
he notices you tilting your head to the side and hears your eyes ask, "have we met before?"' and felt the want to scream yes.
to tell you how long he had been waiting and longing to see you again in this life, but dazai knows he can't as his breath hitches.
"s-sir? are you okay?" your concerned voice surprises him. you were much closer now.
"huh?" was all he could utter in confusion.
dazai sees you rummaging through your pockets and pulls out a handkerchief, only for you to hand it to him before pointing it out to him, "sir, you're crying."
oh.
he never cries. he never did in his lifetime, but it appears that even in this world, you still hold his heart for him to do so. as dazai blinks, he notices how fuzzy his vision has become as a result of his tears filing his eyes and dampening the bandages covering his left eye.
he shakily reaches for your handkerchief, tears welling up in his eyes as his fingers grazes your warm skin. even your touch in this world was the same as it had always been.
"i'm sorry.. thank you.." dazai exhales, his sullen expression suddenly hidden by an exasperated fit of laughter as he wipes his tears with your handkerchief.
as he finishes, he hands you back your handkerchief, which you accept with a smile.
"it's no problem, but are you sure you're okay, sir?" you ask again, your face concerned.
"hmm? oh, yes. i'm fine, love," dazai laughs and shrugs it off as nothing, "i was going through old photographs and stuff here in this shop and got a bit sentimental, and then i saw you."
"i see, i see," you say softly with a small giggle, shaking your head, "well, i'm sorry to bother you, sir. i'm glad you're okay."
"no need for that, dear. i should be the one apologizing for worrying you," dazai insists with a smile, a genuine smile as he waves his hand.
he sees you nod and smile again before you excuse yourself and move past him to look around the store.
as dazai turns his head over his shoulder, he finds you conversing with the kind old lady of the antique shop while digging through the things you found interesting and charming.
as he recalls the images and book he read over earlier while staring at you at this instance, memories flood his head.
dazai had found you again, and even in another life, you made his head swirl, and all he could think of was how you could have still been his.
if only the story had gone back to the beginning page instead of where it was about to conclude. despite his thoughts echoing your name and filled his mind with memories of you from the other realities, it was already too late.
the pieces were already in place, and how could he take this away from you? to see you happy and safe, thriving in a life where you were just a regular citizen, not a member of an armed detective agency or anything..
and he couldn't stop thinking about one thing;
the regret of not being able to share and live this life with you.
where you could have been his,
where you and dazai could have been the ones in the old photographs he saw earlier,
and where you could have said you two were truly timeless.
nonetheless, dazai is grateful for meeting you again and falling in love with you. he has always loved you in every universe after all.
even in this separate life, even though fate has torn you two apart in this reality.
"we would've been timeless," dazai murmurs softly to himself before leaving the antique shop, his head and heart laden with grief.
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=͟͟͞♡˖ ° niki says ! ༉‧₊˚.
sigh, the kind of things miss taylor swift makes me write with the songs she wrote 💔 oh, and i am also dedicating this beast! dazai fic to @anqelically and @ruru-kiss !! (already hugging you both in advance because 🫂🥲)
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jokeringcutio · 3 months
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Stepdad! William Afton x (f)  Reader: New Year ( Warnings: Smut)
AN: Happy New Year to all my followers and all you WilliamAfton / SteveRaglan / MatthewLillard Fanbunnies. Here’s a little drabble that fits inside the stepdad AU universe.
Warnings: Explicit sexual content. Talk about adultery/secrecy/taboo relationship, mouth on v, p in v, unprotected s*x, threats of stepdaddy wanting to keep you with him.
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The soft glow of fairy lights illuminated the room as you sat at your desk, pen in hand, diligently writing in your diary. The New Year had just begun, and with it came a sense of renewal, of change. You couldn't help but wonder what this new period in your life would bring—new experiences, new people, or perhaps a different side to those already in your life.
The door creaked open, and without looking up, you knew it was him—your stepdad, William. He entered quietly, his footsteps barely making a sound on the wooden floor. You didn't move, not even when he approached and placed a warm, strong hand on your shoulder.
"Enjoying the peace and quiet after all that partying?" he asked, his voice low and smooth like aged whiskey.
"Definitely," you replied, setting your pen down. "Vanessa and Mike really went overboard with the drinking, huh?"
William chuckled, his fingers starting to trace slow circles on your shoulders, drifting lower with each pass. "Yeah, they were both pretty hungover the next day. Serves them right for turning our living room into a war zone."
You shivered at the sensation of his touch, but continued the conversation. "I guess it was a memorable way to start the year." Your thoughts betrayed you, wondering if William's presence in your room held some hidden meaning, some unspoken desire.
"Memorable indeed," he murmured, his hands now dangerously close to the curve of your breasts.
The heavy thud of your diary closing echoed through the dimly lit room. William's blue eyes locked onto yours, a shadowy look lurking in their depths. He leaned in, his breath hot and hushed against your ear.
"Your mother is doubting our wedding," he whispered, his voice laced with bitterness. "She's talking about divorce. She suspects I've been fucking her darling daughter."
Your heart clenched at the words, anger bubbling just beneath the surface. You scowled at him, the unfairness of it all surging within you. It was he who had started this twisted game, manipulating you into secrecy. You would never want to hurt your mother this way. You’d never have allowed a married man to touch you if he hadn’t been living in the same house, under the same roof, manipulating you into this with every breath you took.
"And did you tell her the truth?” you hissed, accusingly. “Did you tell her how often you fuck her little girl?” You used those words on purpose, as William loved to remind you of how much younger and weaker you were compared to him. Nothing more but a little girl that needed to be put in her place. Whether you’d been bratty or not.
A low growl escaped his lips as he grabbed your wrist, flipping you over the desk without a moment's hesitation. Your body tensed, adrenaline rushing through your veins. He pushed your pants aside with rough fingers, and then… he surprised you.
His beard tickling your skin as he lowered his mouth to you.
"Dad!" you gasped, but it was too late. His tongue traced patterns on your most sensitive flesh, teasing you mercilessly. A shudder ran down your spine, the pleasure building up inside, threatening to explode.
The tip of the tongue dipped in. He slurped and sucked and suckled on your nub until you writhed in pleasure. But a strong hand kept you pushed down, your chest against the desk, your diary trapped underneath your tummy.
"Remember who's in charge here," he murmured against you, his voice dark with desire. The air from his lips tickled your wet folds. You felt a shiver run down your spine, felt your walls pulse helplessly with pleasure.
He always managed to do this to you. The strong hand kept pushing you down, giving you no room to move away from the onslaught of his mouth. His lips, his tongue, his beard – he was driving you insane. This must be the reason your mom invited him into her life, you thought through the haze. He was so good in giving you pleasure, that you’d forget whether you had said yes or no or had allowed him in. The sensation of his beard brushing against you only heightened the intensity, pushing you closer to the edge. You were seeing stars.
And then his lips were gone.
"Please," you whimpered, your voice wavering. "Daddy, please." The word felt strange on your tongue, but there was no denying the thrill it sent through you. William's eyes darkened with lust as he flipped you over, onto your back, and positioned himself between your legs.
"Remember, you are my little girl too now," he growled before thrusting inside without warning. The intensity of it left you gasping for breath, fingers digging into the edge of the desk. His movements were rough and hungry, leaving you with an overwhelming sense of both fear and pleasure.
His cock was stretching you impossibly wide, your vaginal walls pulsed around him in an effort to fit him in. Slick lubed him all the way, dripping down and even coating his balls that were heavy and tightened with each thrust, ready to burst.
"Harder," you managed to choke out, driven by a need you couldn't quite comprehend. He obliged, his grip on your hips bruising and unyielding. Your thoughts were a chaotic whirlwind, torn between desire for William and guilt over betraying your mother.
"Mine," he snarled, his eyes locked onto yours as he drove into you with brutal force. The desk squeaked and thudded against the wall, the papers that had been laying upon it fell to the floor, your phone tumbled over the edge. The word echoed in your mind, pulsing with each pounding heartbeat. You belonged to him, body and soul, and there was something undeniably intoxicating about that fact.
As the coil within you tightened, desperation clawed at your chest. "Oh, Dad, I'm—"
"Say it," he demanded, his voice harsh and unforgiving.
"Daddy," you whispered, barely audible. “I’m gonna come on your cock.” And with that final submission, you shattered beneath him, your climax crashing over you in waves. It took him a few more firm thrusts but he followed soon after, his release hot and possessive inside you.
You bit your lip after catching your breath, listening to the low pants of your stepdad as he too got down from his high. You watched as he ran a hand through his wispy hair, grey locks betraying how much older he was compared to you. Not that you minded. You thought the age had added a spark to him – like fine wine.
Withdrawing from your trembling body and leaving a trail of lukewarm cum on the inside of your thigh, William reached down, sliding your diary from underneath you. He flipped it open, his eyes scanning the pages. The thin-lipped serious expression he wore slowly was replaced by a predatory smirk. As he read, his smile only grew wider, more satisfied.
"Look at this," he murmured, his fingers tracing over your words. "You write you can’t wait for us to fuck. So eager during the day, waiting for your mom to go away so Daddy can have his fucking fun on the playground.”
A low groan, an indication of what your words did to him. You knew exactly which parts he was reading. The entries where you described how your body had started to adjust to him. How it felt when he had you warm his cock. How happy you were when he made you cum afterward. How your feelings for him had started to change. Whatever they had been in the beginning, they had been fully replaced with an unadulterated love for him.
His blue eyes met yours, the smirk never leaving his face. “You like it when I fuck you, sweetheart. How sweet. It even says you claim to have fallen in love with me."
He closed the diary, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss on the top of your head. The contrast between his earlier violence and this tender gesture left you reeling. He helped you up into a sitting position before he turned away from you, adjusting his pants and making sure he looked presentable again.
"I'll find a way to keep you with me," he promised, his voice low and dangerous.
You knew you should have been terrified, but all you could feel was that strange, dark thrill deep within your core. William Afton had claimed you, and there was no going back.
~
If you like this kind of filth, I have a lot more of Stepdad!Afton x Reader and more coming up. I also write for other interesting bad men such as slasher characters. If you are feeling generous - as it is the season of giving - you can always leave me a little thank you on my Ko-Fi (:
I’ll post some quick links below to other works. My prompt box is still open, but I will be heading into the hospital at the end of December and depending on my treatment, I might have to close it in the near future. But I’ll keep you up to date :)
Quick links:
~~ Masterlist - Request Box -  Support me on Ko-Fi ~~
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Salvation
Series Masterlist
Kind of a sequel to Say No to Me, but can be read as a standalone fic
Fandom: Narcos
Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader
Rating: 18+ (warnings: mild choking, name calling, Papi kink, Mami kink, handcuffs, crying, spanking, fingering, mild cuckolding kink. Justification of violence and American imperialism?? Idek you guys)
Word count: 5.8k words
Summary: Shaken to his core by witnessing Colonel Carillo shoot a kid, Javier comes home guilty and questioning the role he plays in the war against drugs.
A/N: Say No to Me did soooo well, so I wrote a little more about about Javi and his wife. Hope people like this too 🥺🥺🥺. Warning: The characters’ views on violence and geopolitics are not my own.
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“I don’t see the difference.”
“What do you mean you don’t see the difference? Those assholes poison this country, poison the US. We’re trying to stop them.”
It was their first argument. Leave it to him to bring work home and argue about it with the pretty professor he’d been dating. His job was always a point of contention for them. She didn’t care that he flaked out on dates, forgot to turn up for dinner with friends and slinked into bed late at night with no explanation as to where he’d been. No. What she worried about was the fact that he was a man with a gun.
The first time he met her outside the restaurant the both of them frequented, he was on a raid where her friend happened to live. He’d opened a door, gun in hand, just like he opened many other doors in Columbia in his quest for men associated with the Medellin cartel. He’d surveyed the rest of the place like he always did. Behind the woman was her. The beautiful woman he’d been buying buñuelos for at the restaurant like he’d buy a drink for a woman at a bar. The woman who’d smiled at him in a silent thanks each time the waitress brought her the buñuelos he ordered for her. The one who reciprocated by sending him coffee.
She never saw him the same again. She stopped meeting his eyes when before, she’d always looked around for him shyly. She stopped eating at the restaurant, opting instead for takeaways he found her eating in her car. He’d confronted her, sweet-talked her and gotten her to take his buñuelos again. Talked her into having coffee with him every morning and took her back to his place to fuck.
They always wondered out loud to each other what life would be like had he not done that.
“I wouldn’t be picking up dirty socks from all over the apartment.”
“And I wouldn’t find hair clogging the drain. But I would also be perpetually single.”
“And that’s a good thing or a bad thing?”
“Bad thing. No wife to come home to. No one to wake me up with a warm wet mouth around my cock.”
“Jodón!”
“Te amo, Cariño. Eres mi corazón, mi conciencia.”
If he weren’t a married man, he would have driven to the brothel he used to frequent before he decided he would go on a date with her. He’d take the first willing woman he saw and fuck his pain, his frustrations, his failures into her. She’d be nothing but a warm wet thing in which to bury everything for a bit of cash.
Doing that with his wife didn’t take away the pain or the frustration. It produced guilt. Finding hand-shaped bruises and bite marks on her body made her hide her face in his chest to keep her sweet shy smile away from him. But it just made him feel undeserving of her, like he was tainting the one truly good thing in his life with his violence and brutality.
Her black and white perspective on his job changed eventually. Marriage wouldn’t have been possible without it. For the first time, he felt a pang of guilt for deceiving her into marrying him. When it was just coffee and sex, she insisted that he keep his gun and badge away from her sight. They scared her. He felt offended that she wouldn’t accept him whole.
Eventually he stopped hiding work from her. She grew comfortable with his gun on their bedside table along with her pretty night lamp, books, personal diary, jewelry, and framed picture of their wedding at the embassy. She no longer flinched when she wrapped her loving arms around him and found his gun tucked in the back of his jeans.
He changed her, turned her into someone who could casually listen to him vent about the day to day violences of his job. Turned her into a woman who shared a bed with the kind of man who stood by as his colleague put a gun to a kid’s head and pulled the trigger. He wanted to drive off to the closest bar and drink himself to death, but as though on autopilot, he’d already driven himself home. He parked the jeep in the garage, leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.
What should he have done to stop Carillo? Could he have stopped him at all? It wasn’t as though he knew what the man would do… Or maybe he did. He couldn’t plead innocence over Carillo’s actions when he was the one celebrating his return, knowing fully about his cruel tactics. He sensed something was off when Carillo made those kids kneel on the ground, hands on their heads. Some of them still had baby fat in their cheeks. The Colonel knew what he was going to do. It was why he left Steve behind.
Steve was given immunity from these cruelties. While he’d been a bachelor when he first met Carillo, Steve was always the family man with a pretty wife to go home to. And now a baby. Now, he was also a family man with someone awaiting his return. Did Carillo not know that? Did he not see the glimmering gold band around his finger? Or did Carillo see something in him that indicated he was prepared to witness such horror? Something that said he lacked a heart unlike Steve. How did Carillo manage to go home to his wife and kids? How did he hold them in his bloodied hands?
“Javi?”
She’d opened the jeep door and he hadn’t heard a thing. He was truly out of it.
He whispered her name as she cupped his cheek, taking all the comforts that her touch afforded. He closed his eyes and swallowed as the guilt set in. The kid’s parents would need comfort tonight, not him. He didn’t deserve this. He should pry her hand off of him, reject her gentle touch. Stop her from tainting herself further.
She leaned close to him and he hummed gratefully for the proximity that allowed him to breathe in the fresh scent of her citrusy soap and her coconut shampoo.
He said her name again, like a prayer, like she was his god and he, a devotee who sought her for salvation. “It’s going to be okay, mi amor. Whatever it is…It’s going to be okay.”
“I need you,” he said as he nuzzled into her neck.
“You have me, Javi. I’m right here, whatever you need. Okay?” She swept her fingers through his hair and massaged his scalp, already taking care of him.
He hopped out of the car with a renewed energy now that he had her permission. “Need you right here, baby,” he muttered hurriedly and curled an arm around her waist, picking her up and placing her on the hood of the jeep. He tugged at the satin tie holding the robe together, untying it to reveal her in her purest form. No underclothes, no jewelry except her rings, just her. He palmed her shoulders and pushed the garment off of her, holding himself back from ripping it off when she took a few seconds too long to free her arms from the sleeves.
He spread her legs apart, mumbling, “Need to see you, querida. Need to see your pretty pussy.”
He placed a hand on her belly and pushed, forcing her to lie back down on the hood. It had to be uncomfortable, but he couldn’t think beyond getting his dick wet. She said whatever he needed, so he was going to take whatever he needed. He was going to take everything he could out of her, leave her spent and unable to offer him anything more.
He pushed her legs wider, spreading her out obscenely for his eyes. Her body held marks of their passion. Her knees were bruised from kneeling at his feet and bringing him pleasure with her lips. Bruises of various colors were scattered all over her, tainting the pure smooth skin she brought into their relationship.
She left her marks too. If he looked in the mirror, he would see the crescent shaped scars she’d left behind, some still healing from spilling blood for her. He would find that her name was etched on every scratch and bite she left behind, claiming him as hers and contrasting between the scars he did not ask for, scars he earned chasing sicarios on rooftops.
Javier was marked by all the successes and failures of this perpetual chase of the bad guy. He’d tripped, fallen, jumped from balconies, been shoved into walls, pistol whipped and grazed by bullets.
She’d asked him for one thing only when he was on one knee in front of her— Give me all of you, Javi. So he did. He came home every evening, touched her with hands covered in the blood of the innocent collateral damage in this war.
He bent over her and pressed his chapped lips on her plush ones as his hand found her breasts. She tasted sweet as she always did. There was something beyond the sweet treats she was so fond of. It was just her, just the sweetness of her heart and the kindness of the words uttered by those lips. Once upon a time, she did not like his taste. Their first kiss had her pull away, face scrunched and the lips that’d rejected him complaining about the taste of cigarettes. He used to keep a pack of gum on him at all times- in his pocket, in the glove compartment, on his bedside table, in the living room just to rid himself of the vile taste of his terrible days so he could drink her sweet moans from her lips.
She no longer complained. She’d gotten used to it, had grown to like it even. They didn’t want to waste time washing away the day’s traces before getting lost in each other. They took each other as they were, accepted the ugly and the gruesome, the sweat and the weariness, the mistakes and the guilt.
He released her from the kiss and nudged her chin up by his nose. She whimpered quietly and returned her hand to his shoulders to push his leather jacket off. He helped her out, shrugging the garment off and letting her hands run over his chest with only the thin gray shirt separating them. He nibbled on her chin, reining himself back so as to not bite too hard. She had to be a few orgasms in to enjoy such roughness. He fondled a breast in his hand, pinching his index and middle fingers together to tug at her nipple.
The vibrations of her moan as he kissed down her throat went straight down to his cock. He marked her all the way in his journey from her neck to her cunt. Kiss, bite, suck, nip. Kiss, bite, suck, nip. Kiss, bite, bite, bite—
Mine, mine, mine.
Fingers found her cunt faster than his lips that were busy marking her as his. He rubbed her with his tainted hand and she raised herself off the hood of his jeep to meet his hand. He pushed her back down and placed a firm hand on her belly, pressing down to send a message.
Stay down. Obey.
She stayed put, taking only what he gave. Slick coated the tip of his finger as he pushed between her pussy lips. “Were you touching yourself before I came home, querida?”
“Yeah,” she managed to voice.
“Couldn’t wait for me?” He asked as he pushed a finger in, roughly and with no mercy. She gasped silently as she squirmed on the metal surface.
“Sorry,” she whined as he found the spot inside her that drove her wild, one that her dainty fingers couldn’t reach. “Papi, ‘m sorr—” she shrieked as he pinched her clit.
“What did I tell you about touching what’s mine?” He asked, getting irrationally angry about her pleasuring herself. Useless. Useless on the job, useless at home. An absent and neglectful husband whose wife had to resort to touching herself.
“That everything that’s yours is mine too.” He could hear the smile in her voice as she recalled the sweet beginnings of their marriage even when spread out in the most vulgar way for him.
“Everything. Except this,” he said, palming her cunt. “Let me just have this. All for myself.”
“So you’ll be a good boy and share everything else? Lend my ass to some other guy, it’ll be f—” she gasped mid-sentence as he grabbed her throat and pulled her up to meet him face-to-face.
“You letting other guys in when I’m not looking, baby?” He asked, applying the slightest pressure around her neck. He knew she would do nothing of that sort. He wouldn’t either. For all his faults as a husband, he was loyal. But they liked pretending sometimes. It played into his insecurities a little, into his fears of being so inadequate for her that she had to look elsewhere. It wasn’t a fear for him sexually. Yet. But it angered him when she asked a colleague to do so much as put up a shelf in their living room. That was his job as her husband.
“Hmm, sorry Papi… He was right there and I really missed you,” she played along as she thumbed his lips.
“Told you you were all mine, baby…” he said, pinching her clit just hard enough to bring her the pain she craved from her. She jumped and wrapped her legs around him, the heels of her feet digging into his back.
“You just told me that just now! How was I supposed to know before this?”
“Put a ring on it, didn’t I?” He said before he took her left hand and thumbed her rings. “I put three on it, in fact. What else is a man supposed to do, hmm? Put a collar on you?”
Her breath hitched, letting him know that she very much liked the image he put in her head. He took it as his cue to continue, “Would you like that? Hmm? I’ll finally make you look like the bitch in heat that you are.” She tightened around his finger and dug her feet into his back harder as though she wanted to pull him closer.
“Hnnngg please!” She whined as she began fucking herself on his middle finger. He added his ring finger, making her fuck herself on the finger that showed the world who he belonged to. Showed the world that he belonged. Showed him he wasn’t a lone man, that there was someone home who gave a fuck. He pressed the pad of his thumb on her clit, circling it gently, barely touching as she used his fingers for his pleasure.
“Javiii!” She cried his name, her voice grabbing at his heart. He belonged. He unbuttoned his shirt and pulled her flush against his chest, needing to feel her skin against his.
“Yeah, baby. ‘M here, I’m yours,” he whispered into her neck and sucked on that spot that was bruised from all the times he’d wrapped his lips around it because he knew it made her melt in his arms.
She moaned his name over and over— Javi, Javi, Javiii— and he drank in all of it as he fucked her with his fingers. It grounded him, her moans. Told him she was real, this life they had was real and pushed away the horrors he’d participated in. He was just Javi, her husband Javi who just came home from work and made her scream his name. Not Agent Peña.
“Come for me, Cariño,” he encouraged when he felt her nearing her peak. He continued doing what he was doing, kept up the pace, kissed her neck and squeezed her tits, taking turns between each one when she finally collapsed in his arms, dropping her entire weight on him as she gasped for breaths.
“Want more,” she whined, her voice raspy from screaming his name. She palmed him through his jeans, making him hiss before she moved up to his belt buckle and tugged impatiently. “Want your cock, Papi.”
“Greedy little thing,” he scolded before kissing down her neck. “I just made you come, didn’t I? You’re still shaking but you already want more?”
“Pleeeeease!” She cried, pushing his shirt off his shoulders and letting her hands roam his chest. “I missed you.”
“Missed me? I fucked you silly in the morning before you went to work. Did you forget?”
“Missed you all day. I thought about it the whole time, thought about your cock.” She said, palming him through his jeans. He managed a smirk, trying his best to not let her know how much her touch affected him already.
“Thought you were more professional than that, bebita. Did you rub one out in the restroom thinking of me? Take a break from teaching to touch this wet little cunt for me, Mami?” He asked as he touched her gently, knowing she was still sensitive from how he played her with his fingers.
She shook her head and nuzzled into his neck, her bashful smile catching his attention before she could hide it away from him. “Can’t disappoint my darling wife, now can I?” He teased, quickly unbuckling his belt and undoing the button and zipper of his jeans to free himself. She reached behind him and squeezed his ass before she grabbed his gun and set it aside on the hood.
The cavalierness of her action struck him. The woman who was frightened by the mere sight of his gun was now handling it casually. If he had noticed it any other day, he would’ve been proud. But not anymore… He had changed from the ambitious fool he used to be in Laredo. And he had changed her.
“Hmm yeah, don’t want your wife letting other men in her ass,” she teased as her hands roved over his torso, the pointed tips of her nails making the hairs on his arm stand up. She reached his dick and wrapped her hand around it when he decided enough was enough. He slapped her hand away, pulled her off the hood and turned her around before pushing her back down face-first. It happened so quickly that she didn’t seem to realize what had happened.
Usually, he felt guilty only after taking his frustrations out on her. Now, he felt the guilt had already begun to surround him, thickening the air he breathed until he felt it was choking him.
“Stay right there,” he ordered, holding her down as he reached into his pocket for his handcuffs. He snapped the cold metal around her wrists and leaned over to whisper into her ear, “I’m gonna take you rough, cariño. Can you handle it?” When she nodded, he asked her again, “Will you let me fuck you hard? That’s okay tonight? I need to hear a yes. A clear yes.” The nodding wasn’t enough for him. He didn’t feel right in the head and he needed her to be clear.
“Yes, Javi,” she said, turning a little, her cheek pressed on the hood as she met his eyes. “I want it. I’ll tell you to stop if it gets too much.”
“Okay,” he breathed out as he pulled his leather belt off through the loops of his jeans. As the leather cracked in the air, he noticed her ass clench. He grabbed a handful of her behind and let go before swatting the flesh. Mesmerized by the jiggling of her behind, he let her find reprieve for a few second before he repeated the motion for the other cheek. He reduced the gaps between each slap to her ass, enjoying her screams and cries, unbothered about whether they were waking the entire damn neighborhood.
When he felt she was adequately prepared, he folded his belt in two, holding the metal buckle tight in his hand and wrapping the excess leather around his fist to make sure he didn’t accidentally hit her with it. They liked leaving marks on each other, but none that would be as painful and permanent as the damage metal would cause. He reached between her legs and found her pussy, wet from her cum, making her let out the soft sounds he would lock up in the depths of his mind to look back on whenever he missed her.
“Love the pretty sounds you make for me, bebita,” he praised, pleased with himself as he caught her dazed smile. As much as he liked seeing her in the throes of pleasure, he liked it more when he could bring out her sweet smiles. It made him proud, knowing he could do that to her.
“Think you forgot the belt, Papi…” she said softly, her tone contradicting the depraved thing she was requesting.
“So eager,” he mumbled, his words buried by her scream when his belt made contact with her ass. “Quiet, querida. You don’t want to wake our neighbors. Don’t want them to run over here to check on you now, do we? They might accuse me of being an abusive husband and I will be forced to explain that my little pain-slut of a wife begs for this shit.”
She trembled underneath him, holding her hand up to seek comfort. He took her hand glady, entwining their fingers and giving it a kiss before he dropped it back down. She huffed in disappointment, making him feel just a little guilty for taking her comfort away from her. Promising himself that he would give her all the love and affection she needed after this, he slipped his ring finger inside her. He was met with no resistance and he enjoyed how she took him in, enjoyed how she dripped down his finger and coated the gold band with her deliciousness.
“You would like that, won’t you? My little exhibitionist. I knew you were one when you made me finger you in my jeep before I could take you home for a proper fuck,” he reminded her of their first time together, delighted in himself as she tightened around him. He gave her a few quick pumps before withdrawing abruptly to make her taste himself on his fingers. He tightened his grip around the belt and landed another one, the black leather kissing her skin. His hand effectively muffled her scream, but she bit down on him hard, making him hiss.
He fucked her mouth like he fucked her pussy, aloowing himself to be satisfied with how her tongue swirled around his fingers. Forgetting himself, he pressed himself against her ass, grinding to relieve himself just a little. She pushed back at him and he took a step back, realizing what he’d done.
“Mierda!” He cursed. This was not the right time to rub the rough denim of his jeans on her sensitive behind.
“Lo siento, mi amor…” he apologised, bending down to kiss her temple. “Just… can’t wait to have you.”
“Just a— just few more, Javi baby…then— and you can have me,” she breathed out between pants.
“How many more? How many can you take?”
“Four. Each. No breaks, just go. Alternate it.”
“Sí, Mami,” he nodded, taking her command. He crumbled up the soft tie of her robe and pushed it into her mouth before he stood back and took quick aims, raining her with one hit after another.
Her cries and screams were muffled by the cloth he’d shoved in her mouth, but he was certain she would be heard if someone happened to walk by the garage door. While this was a safe neighborhood thanks to it being embassy staff quarters, late night screams were unfortunately not a rare thing for the city. At other times, it chilled him to the bone and made him want to send an armed bodyguard with his precious girl wherever she went. Now, he contented himself with the fact that nobody would come knocking to check on the poor screaming woman.
He pushed his jeans down to his knees and lined himself up with her tight, wet heat before forcing himself in.
“Feel. So. Fucking. Good.” He grunted, alternating each word with a thrust into her pussy. She gripped him so tight, so good, so fucking good.
“Dios mío, Mami. Tan perfecto,” he spewed praises, grabbing her hair with his fingers and giving her a painful tug to force her to show him one half of her face. She was utterly debauched, freshly washed hair all tangled up in his hand, eyes glazed over with everything he gave her, lips bruised and swollen and cheeks covered in her tears. He was sick in the head, he knew that and God, she knew that too. He was a sick fuck, making her cry for him, getting himself harder in her cunt as he watched her spill more tears from his thrusts.
“Lo siento,” he mumbled, still giving her what brought on the tears in the first place. He knew she wanted it, she’d told him so several times, reassured him as she cradled him in her loving arms. She understood him, sometimes more than he did. She knew the depths of his wretched would and found herself a place in it rather than running away screaming.
But that didn’t make him stop apologizing, “Lo siento, Lo siento, por favor… Mi amor, perdóname, por favor—” his words caught in his throat and he let out a sob around her name. He let his tears fall, bent over her and slipped an arm around her shaking body to pull her close to himself. He buried his cries into her neck as his thrusts slipped out of rhythm.
She spat out the cloth that he’d stuffed her mouth. “Javi? Are you okay, baby?”
He shook his head, unable to hide himself from her any longer. “No te merezco,” he whispered.
“Uncuff me. Wanna— need to touch you,” she begged. He snapped her cuffs open, having left it unlocked for her safety. Her hand was on her immediately, comforting him with her touch.
“Javi…I got you, honey. I got you,” she reassured him, taking his hand in hers and giving him a squeeze. He peeked out a little like a frightened yet curious child and caught the gleaming silvery metal of his pistol on the hood. It simply sat there, too close to his wife, not inspiring the fear it should in her. He’d ruined her so much that she could simply have it in her line of vision when she took him.
“Lo sien—”
“Javi, Javi, it’s okay. Everything’s okay, mi amor… It’s alright.”
“Dime que me quieres,” he begged. He needed to know, needed to hear that she still loved him even though he doubted she would if she knew Agent Peña as much as she knew her husband Javi.
“Te quiero, te amo, Javi. Mi amor, mi corazón, mi—” she whined as he unknowingly hit a spot. All these years knowing her and he somehow didn’t know that this did it for her. He repeated the motion, thrusting in the exact same angle with the same vigor that made her cry so sweetly.
The world turned hazy around him and for just that moment, he was just Javi, just her Javi. He belonged to her and the pleasures she brought him, belonged right in her sweet pussy that made his lips moan her name over and over and— He let out sounds he didn’t recognize to be from his throat as she gripped him like a vice and he struggled with the in and out motions, needing to just bury himself in her for eternity and never leave. As though she’d heard his plea, she granted him the high he’d come home craving, pushing him over the edge yet holding onto him, keeping him safe, keeping him hers.
He stayed put even after he’d spilled inside her, needing the closeness, needing to surround himself in all her goodness whether he deserved it or not.
“Javi…What happened, baby?” She asked, caressing his hand with a tenderness that warmed his heart. “What were you apologizing for? What happened?”
He removed himself from her and turned her around to face him. He kept his eyes on the ground as he retrieved the robe that had fallen to the floor. He draped the fabric around her and she stumbled as she took a step ahead. He pulled his jeans up and zipped up before he surveyed her form. She couldn’t walk without limping. Fuck! He was the piece of fucking shit.
He picked her up and she wrapped her arms around his neck. She kissed him on his chin and then on his cheek, keeping her eyes on his as he carried her through the corridors. It was thankfully too late for anyone to be wandering outside.
He laid her out on the couch when they got home, opting to sit on the floor at her feet rather than next to her. She let him place his head on her lap and even massaged his scalp with her caring hand. He shut his eyes and let himself get lost in the feeling, needing the comfort despite being undeserving.
“You were right,” he spoke quietly into the night.
“About what, mi amor?” Another time, he was sure she would have laughed and said she always was.
“When you said you didn’t see a difference. Our first fight. You said you didn’t see the difference between them and us. ‘S bad no matter who does it, the violence. Guns.”
“That was a long— why are we talking about this now? Is that what’s got you so worried? Javi, I didn’t know what I know now. It was a very…reductive way of thinking about it. I told you that much later.”
He felt he’d manipulated her somehow, put the perspective of the bright-eyed young Javier who’d come to Columbia to be ‘the good guy’ who put bad guys in jail and saved the world or whatever the fuck he thought he was going to do. He had done good, sure, but the bad… Oh god the bad.
“Carillo is back.”
“Yeah, you told me…”
“Whenever we go on a fucking operation, the guys we’re trying to nab are always a step ahead of us. Escobar’s got informants everywhere. Kids. Some the size of your nieces. Couple teenagers. Bad situation at home, either they don’t have a choice, or they don’t yet understand what the hell they’re doing… I thought we were just going to scare them. We rounded them up, Carillo was doing the talking. This kid got too mouthy, you know that kind of teenager with the ‘fuck the police’ attitude and enough blind courage fuelled by his newfound independence… It just felt off, baby. I should’ve done something, but— This is how it’s going to go from now on and everyone will turn a blind eye because we’re just that desperate.”
“Javi… Tell me what happened.”
“He shot him,” he managed to say. “Carillo shot the kid. To make a fucking point.”
Her hand stilled in his hair and her eyes widened. “I want to think there’s a difference, but it’s getting harder and harder everyday to see it. Escobar’s using these kids to save his own ass and we’re killing them to send him a fuckin’ message.”
“You didn’t pull the trigger.”
It was a statement, but he replied as though it was a question. “I didn’t pull the trigger.” He was a piece of shit, but he needed her to know that he hadn’t gotten that bad.
“You can’t carry others’ sins on your back, Javi.”
“I was there when—”
“So were the others. And Carillo pulled the trigger. You think he’s at home apologizing to his wife?”
Yeah but you didn’t marry Carillo.
He shook his head and she took his face in her hand, cradling his cheek like he was something precious. “You do what you can, Javi. Your hands are as clean as can be for a DEA Agent. You can’t bear other men’s sins. And you can’t change how entire governments operate.”
“You wouldn’t have said that before.”
“Yeah. I wouldn’t have. Back then, I didn’t have to stay up all night waiting to hear my husband’s car arrive so that I could run to him and see for myself if he’d come home to me in one piece. I was on the outside before but now I’m in the heart of it, with you. I know you try to shield me from the worst of it. I see how you and Steve whisper about work instead of talking out loud. But I’m not naïve. I know you’re in danger most days and there are some things that you just have to do.”
“I have blood on my hands. I’m not the same man you married. And you’re not the same, I changed you. I made you believe in something I don’t believe in anymore, pulled you into my mess and—”
“It’s okay,” she declared with a quiet smile. “As long as it’s not your heart. As long as you’re not bleeding out on the streets. If you need to get blood on your hands to keep yourself alive out there, I won’t stand in your way. I don’t want you thinking about whether I would approve of the morals of what you did. I don’t care if I change. Change me, get the blood on your hands on mine and I’ll clean you up before I have to send you back out there. I don’t care who has to bleed for you to see another day. I’ll always take the man you are when you come home, no matter how much you have changed. I know in my heart that you’ll never do what Carillo did. I know who I married and it’s not a Carillo.”
She pushed his errant curls out of his face, bent down and placed a kiss on his forehead. “You are the same man I married. You have heart. And you want to do the right thing. Unfortunately,” she said, taking a deep breath. “There are just some things you can’t control and you just have to let go of it to face the next day. You can’t do that with others’ sins on your shoulders. You know you have enough of your own to lug around.”
She allowed him her comforts, her words and her touch and the warmth of her lap as he put his head down. He wasn’t wholly convinced by her words, but closed his eyes knowing she would be there when he came home. She would have him, broken down and full of guilt. He would come home to her for the rest of time and find salvation in her arms and that would be enough.
.
.
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roosterforme · 1 year
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The Deployment Diaries Part 16 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley talks to Mav, and it helps him see things a little clearer. And you know exactly how to make Bradley feel special on his birthday.
Warnings: Smut, swearing, fuff
Length: 5300 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots! Check my masterlist for the reading order!
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The weekend trip to La Jolla had been one of your best ideas ever, if Bradley's opinion counted for anything. He kept thinking about how much fun the arcade had been and how good you looked playing skee-ball in your bathing suit. Plus, you and he had fucked almost nonstop all weekend long, to the point of exhaustion. 
He had woken you up late on Sunday morning and told you it was almost time to check out of the hotel. You'd responded by riding his face until you came and then getting on all fours for him. When you finally checked out of the hotel, looking like two disheveled messes, the woman at the front desk just smirked. 
You had both slept most of the afternoon at home on Sunday, only waking up in time to take Tramp for a nice long walk before dinner. Bradley and Tramp were perhaps a little too similar; the way they both looked forward to family walks was a bit ridiculous. Your laugh in response to he and Tramp both running to get the leash lit Bradley up from the inside.
On Monday afternoon, Bradley got flagged at work to test out the software update that your team had patched for the Super Hornet fleet. He got to take notes and attend a meeting which included you and a bunch of other engineers. 
He was so good about keeping his hands to himself at work. He'd been a model citizen, really. Except for that one time in your office. And that other time in the storage closet in the tower. But that didn't prevent him from needing to adjust himself a bit when you gave a thirty minute presentation to everyone in attendance. 
Bradley was trying his best to pay attention, but there were two problems. First of all, you were way smarter than him when it came to the technical stuff about his aircraft. He was trying his best to follow along, but you lost him a few times when it came to software calculations. 
And second, he knew which bra and underwear set you were wearing under your uniform, because you had gotten dressed right next to him this morning. It was a light pink set that he was particularly fond of. He adjusted himself again. He couldn't wait to get home. 
But that's when the trouble started. When he parked the Bronco in the driveway and walked up the porch steps, you were coming out the door with two huge shopping bags full of stuff. Your hair and makeup were done up and you were wearing a dress and heels. 
"Where are you going, Sweetheart?" he asked, brow scrunched up.
You kissed him hurriedly on his cheek. "I need to go to Oceanside for a few hours. I'll be back in a little bit," you told him, rushing to your car and throwing the bags in the trunk. "You can have leftovers for dinner, or maybe see if Mav is around? Bye, Roo!"
Bradley was still standing on the porch steps as he watched you pull out of the driveway. What the hell was up in Oceanside? And why were you all dressed up?
Bradley found himself bored and lonely after about twenty minutes in the house. He changed and tried to watch a show with Tramp, but he ended up calling Maverick, who was still on base and agreed to swing by with a pizza.
"Where's the missus?" Mav asked when he arrived. "I got the toppings she likes. Assumed she would be here."
Bradley shrugged and made a face. "She ran to Oceanside for some kind of errand or something. I'm not sure." He grabbed two beers from the fridge and opened the pizza box on the island. 
"Everything okay?" Maverick asked, accepting a beer. 
"Yeah, I think so?" Bradley said before taking a bite of pizza, but it was more of a question than an answer. 
Maverick hummed. "I know you said she had an incident with that guy while you were deployed and I was away with Penny. I wish I'd been here, Bradley. I really do."
"Nah, don't say that. You were on vacation! And things have been good since we talked. This past weekend was... it was great, actually," he said, thinking back to pouring champagne all over you and cuddling in bed with you while you giggled. Bradley tossed his half eaten slice of pizza onto his plate. "How do I know if it's too soon to propose?"
Maverick looked at him, completely gobsmacked. "I....well, Bradley, I don't know if you're asking the right person, actually. I've been on and off with Penny for decades."
Bradley ran his fingers through his hair. "But you're serious with Penny now. You have been since Halloween. I just don't know how to do this shit correctly half the time. I never really dated anyone too seriously, I just messed around. And I never intended to fall in love, because it was so distressing to me as a kid, the way my mom was lonely for twelve years. But like how the fuck am I supposed to live like this?" Bradley held his hands up in the air before letting them drop back to his sides. "Part of me is terrified of marrying her and having kids with her, knowing I could burn in one day. Every time I think about that, I convince myself to wait a little longer. But the other part of me, the part that is obsessed with the way she makes me feel.... well, that part thinks we should get married tomorrow."
Maverick studied Bradley, took a sip of beer, and studied him some more. "I wish I could be of more help here, I really do. All I can tell you is that your dad was set on marrying your mom the same day he met her. He said those exact words to me. And they got married after six months together. Six months to the day, actually. And I have no doubt they would still be married now. So no, I don't think it's too soon for you. And if fear is what's holding you back, then you need to decide if you love her enough to trust that she's all in, no matter the outcome."
Bradley felt his eyes stinging. "Fuck. This is so hard, Mav. My mom would have loved her though, I know that much. And I can't run the risk of hesitating and losing her, but that's selfish when she's more likely to lose me. I just wish this was easier."
"Me too," Maverick replied. "It's not fair that Goose isn't here for this conversation. He would have known exactly what to say. But it sounds to me like you're ready, and she is too." Bradley let Maverick pull him in for a quick hug before they returned to the box of pizza. 
-------------------------------------------
"Where the fuck is mommy?" Bradley asked Tramp. He kept checking the time on his phone. It was nearing 11 o'clock, and Bradley was getting a little worried. When he had texted to make sure everything was okay, you simply replied with Yep!
He had also been looking up flights from San Diego to Norfolk and eating cold pizza. God, this house was just sad without you in it. Did you feel this way when he was deployed? Shit. If so, he was never going to leave again, because this was awful. 
He channel surfed and fed pizza crust to Tramp, and about twenty minutes later, he finally heard your car in the driveway. 
"She's home!" Bradley and Tramp both ran to the door to greet you. Your hair was a mess now, and you were wearing different clothes than when you left. "Where did you go, Baby Girl? We missed you."
You hugged him around his waist. "I just needed to take care of something. I'm sorry it took so long. Let's get ready for bed." And that's all you would say about it.
Bradley pushed it from his mind. He focused on work during the day and spending time with you at night. When he brought the mail inside on Friday evening, he opened a thick, cream colored envelope with his name on it. He smiled as he took it over to where you were currently making pancakes for dinner in your tight yoga pants and one of his shirts. 
"Feel like buying a fancy dress, Baby Girl?"
"For what?" you asked, turning the music down on your phone. 
Bradley held up the invitation to the ceremony and reception at which he would be promoted to lieutenant commander. "It's in four weeks, and I'm allowed to bring a date. Please don't make me take Tramp."
You laughed. "Tramp would look adorable in a little tuxedo! But I'm going. I'm definitely going! It's going to be fancy as hell! Better than a wedding! You lieutenant commanders and captains and admirals get all the good stuff."
Bradley wrapped his arms around you from behind and kissed your cheek. "You could just wear your dress whites like me, if you want to."
"No!" you shouted, scandalized. "Absolutely not, Roo! I'm buying something fancy! I can wear my uniform for my own promotion. Maybe I'll go shopping for a dress when I go back to Oceanside tomorrow morning."
Bradley frowned. "Why do you have to go back to Oceanside? I thought we were going to spend the day together."
"I'll be home in the afternoon," you told him, flipping over the pancakes. "We can do whatever you want. And then Sunday is your birthday!"
Bradley let go of you so you could plate the food. "Can I come with you in the morning? I can help you look at dresses."
You frowned. "I'd rather you didn't. I promise I'll be back right after lunchtime."
-----------------------------------
Trying to get out of the house on Saturday morning was made very difficult by Bradley who was actively trying to keep you in bed. "One orgasm isn't enough for my girl. Let me give you another one," he said in his raspy morning voice from where he had his head between your legs. You were still riding out the first one when he looked up at you with hopeful eyes. 
You had told the photographer you would be there at 9:30, but thankfully the photographer was Maria's sister's roommate, and she would probably understand why you were running late if you showed her a photo of your boyfriend without a shirt on.
"Two would be nice," you told him as you tried to catch your breath, and he was immediately grinning and crawling up your body. He was too good at this now. You'd been having sex with him for more than nine months, and he could read you like a book. You wanted him slow and steady right now, and you knew you wouldn't have to tell him that. He would just do it, exactly how you wanted him to. 
And that was how he got orgasm number two to come screaming out of you after twenty minutes of slow fucking and a little dirty talk. 
Bradley looked pretty smug as he strode into the bathroom behind you on your wobbly legs. He kissed your neck while you brushed your teeth, and then you pulled your hair up as neatly as you could. "You definitely made me late," you informed his reflection in the mirror as you put on some lip gloss and mascara.
"Well, since you won't tell me where you're going, I don't feel bad about it. I also gave you a nice hickey right here, so I hope that's not going to be a problem," he said, running one beautiful finger along the side of your neck. 
You turned your face to the side to check out the pink mark he had given you. "Naughty. Don't make me withhold birthday sex."
Bradley's eyes went wide. "You wouldn't."
You just smirked and walked back into the bedroom.
"Sweetheart! I'll be good the rest of the day!"
You ran your fingers along his abs and nodded. "I know you will be."
-----------------------------------------
An hour later you were apologizing to the photographer, Flora, as she handed you Bradley's birthday present. You opened the calendar up to January and almost dropped it as you slammed it shut again. 
"Oh, my God. I can't give this to him! I just... oh, my God!"
Flora just laughed softly and gently took the calendar from your hands as you shook your head. "I get that a lot with this kind of photoshoot. But I can guarantee your boyfriend is going to go bananas over this," she promised, tapping the calendar with one finger. "Here, start with September. You've got a good amount of clothing on in that one, and it's taken from behind."
You took a deep breath and looked at the glossy photo of yourself. In it, you were turning back to look over your shoulder. You were wearing a tiny black skirt and black stockings with seams up the backs of your legs. You had on red heels and one of Bradley's white dress shirts, pushed down to reveal your bare shoulders and upper back. 
"Oh, that looks pretty good," you agreed. Then Flora flipped to April, and it was the photo of you wearing cutoff jean shorts with Bradley's aviators. You were covering your breasts with your hands. 
"This one is great, because your smile is so genuine," she told you.
"I was almost laughing in it, because he had no idea I took his sunglasses with me."
Flora flipped through the entire pin-up calendar with you. You saw the photo of you wearing the red bustier and matching thong that Bradley favored. There was also one of you on your knees with your hands on your thighs, pulling up the hem of your white nightie. One of you in your own flight suit had made it in there, and so had one with garters, stocking and lots of lace.
Then there was one of you laying on the bed with your back arched. It looked a lot like the photo you had sent to him that one time you and he were out to dinner with the other aviators. That evening had resulted in back seat Bronco sex, so perhaps you didn't have anything to be scared about. 
The photo for next June was perhaps the most intimate one. Your hair was purposefully messy, and you were completely nude, tangled up in a sheet with your left breast just peaking out. And your golden necklace charms were visible in almost all of the shots.
"Okay, I think you're right. I think he'll like it." Flora just laughed as you added, "You did a great job, honestly. You can barely see the cellulite!"
"Oh stop, I hardly had to do any touch ups. Some of them just needed a little color saturation. I'll tell you what, if your man doesn't lose his mind, come back and I'll give you a refund."
So with that, you took the calendar to your car and went to find a formal gown.
------------------------------------
As soon as you got home, Bradley was snooping in the garment bag. "What does your dress look like? Are you going to try it on for me?"
"Maybe," you replied with a wink. But you did try it on for him, and he stood in front of you speechless, rubbing his chin.
"Shit," he rasped. 
You looked down at yourself and back up at him. The form fitting, dark blue satin dress was insanely formal for most things, but it seemed perfect for his big day. Plus you figured he would appreciate the slit up your left leg and the low cut front. "Do you like it?"
He nodded his head vigorously. "You look amazing. I can't believe I get to have you there with me." He started reaching for you, but you backed away. 
"This dress is delicate, Bradshaw! Delicate!"
"I can be delicate," he whispered, running his fingers along the enticing fabric as you started to undress. 
You rolled your eyes good naturedly. "I'm saying your birthday weekend starts right now. So what do you want to do for the rest of the day?"
He helped you out of your dress as he told you, "Have sex with my girlfriend, walk our adorable dog to the ice cream place that gives out doggie treats, eat dinner, and have sex with my girlfriend again."
"You're going to give me more orgasms today? Is it your birthday or mine?"
------------------------------------
Bradley couldn't believe he deserved you in his life. That perfect weekend away with you in La Jolla had been enough for him. More than enough, really. But here you were, on his actual birthday, waking him up with a blowjob. He felt your wet, hot mouth on his length, and he opened his eyes to the most glorious sight. 
"Oh, hey," he rasped, smiling at you as he propped himself up on his elbows. 
You popped him out of your mouth, kissed his tip and said, "Happy birthday, Roo," in your sweet voice before sliding him between your pretty lips again. He watched your tits swaying, just getting harder and harder for you. He was aching in your hands and mouth as you sucked and licked him so well. 
When he was almost there, you opened your mouth wide and set him down on your plush tongue. He watched himself paint your mouth with his cum while you gently squeezed his balls in your soft hand. 
"Shit, sweetheart. You look so pretty like that," he told you, caressing your cheek. He really wanted to take a picture of you with his dick in your mouth and his cum everywhere, but he didn't know how to ask you for that. 
Bradley watched you swallow him down and lick your lips. Then you crawled up his body and kissed him. "I'm going to make you breakfast, birthday boy."
Bradley followed you into the kitchen and watched you put on your I Love Meat apron over your naked body. He stood behind you as you cut up vegetables and cracked eggs into a bowl, squeezing your bare ass and kissing your shoulders.
"This is already the best birthday I have ever had," he mumbled against your skin. He so badly wanted to be selfish. Marry you and be with you forever. The deployments sucked, but if that was the worst thing you had to deal with, you'd both manage. He couldn't control anything beyond that. 
"I love you, Roo," you told him, turning your head to kiss him briefly while you made him an omelet. That was it, he would buy a ticket to Norfolk tomorrow.
-------------------------------------
You took Bradley on a lunchtime hike and picnic that ended at the cliffside beach where you and he had played dogfight football so many months before. You ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and laid out on your beach towel, and Bradley tried to convince you to take a week off this year and take a vacation with him. In theory that sounded great, but work was going so well for you right now, it would be hard to take any time off. 
After baking in the sun for a while, Bradley said, "It's fucking hot out now. Feel like jumping in the water to cool off?" 
"In our clothes?" you asked, but he was already taking his tee shirt off and pulling his shorts down.
"In our underwear, Baby Girl."
You glanced around the beach, which wasn't crowded at all. You bit your lip before unbuttoning your jean shorts and sliding them down over your hips. The smile on your boyfriend's face was instantaneous. You glanced around again before pulling your tank top off and leaving it on the towel. You hoped your blue sports bra and green underwear were providing enough coverage for that old guy walking his dog to refrain from yelling at you.
Bradley pulled you to your feet and you ran into the water with him. "It's cold!" you complained, but he had already scooped you up into his arms. You clung on to the front of him, legs around his waist and arms around his neck. "Oh my God, don't go out any further! It's freezing!" But Bradley walked out until the waves were crashing against your back. "Bradley!"
He just chuckled and kissed you. "We'll get used to it." 
You threaded your fingers through his hair and kissed him back. His hands splayed along your back, keeping you warm against the onslaught of the Pacific Ocean. You thought about how many millions of times you must have kissed him since that first time in this beach parking lot. Thought about everything that had happened since that day. Falling in love, and almost losing him, and Tramp, and Josh, and how much you loved Bradley.
"I love you," you whispered against his mouth as he devoured you. "I love you so much."
--------------------------------
It took a bit of coaxing, but you finally agreed to let Bradley carry you up the rocks for old time's sake, even though you were wearing perfectly sensible shoes this time. Bradley listened to your laughter as he climbed with you on his back. Your wet underwear had soaked through your clothing, and so had his. You were both a sandy, sweaty mess by the time you got home. 
Wordlessly, you led him to the master bathroom and turned on the shower. Tramp came to investigate what was going on as you peeled Bradley's damp shirt off and let it fall to the floor. The fabric was replaced by your hands and lips on his chest and abs, and Bradley's head tipped back. Your hands were gritty with sand as they worked down to his shorts, and the sensation had him panting for you. Soon he was naked and you were stroking him.
"Baby Girl," he whispered, and you looked up at him expectantly. He kissed you hard, both of his hands in your messy hair, his front pressed to yours. He lived for these moments. Everything with you was so pure, it was almost painful. "You're mine, Baby Girl," he told you, and you moaned. 
Bradley ripped your clothing off, tossing it across the room and scaring Tramp back into the bedroom. You both stumbled into the steamy shower, hands and mouths everywhere. He had you pinned against the tile wall, one hand wrapped around your neck, the other thrusting two fingers into your pussy until you were soaking wet for him. The steam swirled around your bodies, and the little noises you made were echoing inside the glass shower. 
Then he thrust his cock into you, running his thumb up and down along the side of your neck. He could feel your shallow breaths and gasps as he sped up. When you wrapped your leg up around his hip and whispered his name, he was too close to the edge. He pulled out of your pussy and sprayed your belly and hips with his cum before dropping to his knees in front of you. 
"Mmm," you moaned when his mouth met your clit and you started grinding against his face. He worked his tongue, steadily getting you there as his cum mixed with the water from the shower and trailed down your body. You were his birthday present. He wanted the same present every year for the rest of his life. 
You were still leaning against the wall catching your breath when Bradley got the soap and started to wash your body.  You let him do your hair too, because now you were exhausted from all of the day's activities, and you still had to make his dinner. 
A few hours later, you were perched on Bradley's lap eating Marry Me Rooster and listening to some music. "Thank you," he whispered, and it struck you once again that probably nobody ever did anything special, just for him, from the time his mom died until he met you. It made you want to keep doing it and doing it. 
You checked the time on your phone as Bradley happily twirled his second serving of chicken and pasta into his fork. "I hope you're almost ready for dessert," you told him and he just grinned at you. 
"Oh, I know what that means." But then he jumped a bit when someone started pounding on the front door. 
The smile on your face gave you away. "What did you do?" he asked, but you just laughed and told him to go open the front door. 
"Holy shit," Bradley said, as Phoenix thrust a dozen balloons into his hands and made her way inside. She was followed by Fanboy, Payback, Bob, Hangman, Maverick and Penny. Coyote was missing, as he was currently deployed, but everyone else greeted Bradley while you put a pie and a chocolate chip cookie tower on the dining room table. Penny popped a few bottles of champagne, and everyone started eating dessert. 
When you stuck a glittery pink candle into the top cookie and everyone sang happy birthday to him, Bradley pulled you against his side. And when Fanboy told him to make a wish, Bradley grinned at you before blowing the candle out.
-----------------------------------------
After everyone finally left, it was pretty late. Tramp was already in his bed, exhausted from all of the attention he got. Bradley had watched Nat feed him four treats in a row, and when he said something about it, she told him, "Mind your own business, birthday boy. This is between me and my god-pup."
So by the time Bradley noticed you shifting nervously around the kitchen, cleaning up after everyone, he had already had an epically wonderful day.
"Leave it, Sweetheart. I'll clean in the morning before work," he told you, gently taking your hands in his. "Now tell me why you're being weird."
You sighed. "I got you a birthday present. It's in my dresser drawer." you said, staring at his chest.
"That was nice of you. Can I have it?"
"Yeah...." you trailed off, heading for the bedroom and rooting around in your drawer. "But I'm really nervous to give this to you, so please be kind." You thrust a wrapped box into his hand and backed away a few steps, chewing on your lip. 
Bradley started to unwrap and open the box, brow furrowed about what could be making you apprehensive. But then he dropped the wrapping paper and box to the floor as he read the front of the calendar in his hands. 
Rooster's Calendar starring Baby Girl
"No fucking way," he whispered, meeting your guarded eyes before flipping it open to January. He almost fell over. "Oh my God," he almost yelled, briefly waking up Tramp. 
There was a high quality photo of you wearing a sheer champagne colored lingerie set, and you were laying on your back with your legs up in the air. You had on your bright red high heels with your ankles crossed and you looked like a fucking dream, your tits practically spilling out of the sheer top.
Bradley's jaw was hanging open as he flipped to February. He didn't know how things could have possibly improved, but somehow they did. You were wearing his favorite color, the red bustier and thong. "Shit, Baby Girl," he whined. His dick was plainly hard in his jeans, and he was gasping for air, but you looked nervous as hell now.
"Do you like it?" you asked softly, eyes wide, chewing on your thumbnail. 
He just stared at you with his mouth open, blinking, trying to formulate words. He glanced down briefly at March to see you in a black string bikini he had no idea you owned. You looked sinfully good, and now Bradley was throbbing. 
"Don't look at that one. You can see my love handles," you told him, reaching for the calendar, but he held it up high, out of your reach. Then he tossed it softly onto the dresser and grabbed you.
"Don't talk about my future wife that way," he growled, baking you up to the bed. "She's perfect." He reached down and yanked your shirt off and then your bra. "That calendar is the fucking hottest thing in the world, and I only saw three months," he groaned, grinding against you. "It's safe to say, yes, I like it."
You moaned as he touched you. "You said you wanted it."
"Yeah, I did. Thank you, Sweetheart," he whispered against your neck, placing kiss after kiss there as he worked his hand down to the front of your shorts. "Best gift ever."
"How are you going to thank me for this wonderful idea?" you asked, running your fingertips along his scarred cheek.
Bradley pushed you down on the bed, and you rolled over onto your belly to make room for him. He eased himself onto the bed and straddled your ass, rubbing his hands down the smooth planes of your naked back, making you arch your spine. You moaned and ground your ass up into his dick and balls. He was picturing your nipples straining against lacy fabric, and he was so hard he thought he might explode. And here you were writhing and moaning under him after a few touches.
"I'm going to thank you like this," he told you, grabbing you by both hips and popping your rear end up into the air. He pulled your jean shorts down your legs and tossed them aside, and he ran his finger over your thong before removing that as well. He kissed along your ass cheeks and listened to you moan as he palmed you with his hands. He eased his face down to your pussy and gave you a nice long lick, collecting your sweetness on his tongue. 
"I love it when you do that," you huffed between groaning and whining his name, face buried in a pillow.
He teased your clit and ran his fingers through your soaking wet slit, pumping them into your pussy a few times until you were thrusting back again. Then he let his fingers trail up a bit further until he was gently caressing your other hole. 
"Oh!" you gasped and froze. 
Bradley placed a soft kiss on your thigh and then one on your lower back. "Is this okay?" he asked, and he stopped moving his hand until he heard you gasp out an answer. 
"Yes, I think so."
Bradley groaned as he let his fingers trail along once more, the moisture from your pussy making everything look slick and even prettier. "Can I lick you here?"
"Okay," you whispered, and Bradley ran his tongue back and forth across your asshole a few times, fisting his cock in his hand. He'd never done this before, and it sounded like you hadn't either. 
"Do you like this, Baby Girl?" he asked before pressing a little harder with his tongue, licking up all of your essence that he had brought there with his fingers. You were wiggling your ass a little bit for him as he placed another kiss there.
"I don't hate it. God, your mustache feels good everywhere. I think it made my pussy even wetter for you, Roo," you gasped, and Bradley was immediately in position, thrusting his dick into your warm pussy. He could feel your walls gripping him almost immediately. Everything felt too good. You turned him on beyond belief. 
And when you were both ready for bed, and you had yourself draped across his body, you whispered, "I love you, birthday boy." 
You yawned as he wrapped his arms around you. "Can I have this same day every year for my birthday? Just like this, me and you?"
"Absolutely, Roo," you muttered, snuggling against him and dozing off to sleep. 
-----------------------------
Happy birthday, Roo! SO MANY OF YOU ASKED FOR BUTT STUFF, SO HERE IS A BIT OF THAT FOR YOU! Thanks for reading!
PART 17
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524 notes · View notes
mareposie · 11 months
Text
twiyor hc
Yor is feeling down lately, she’s daydreaming a lot and barely talk. One Friday morning she tells Loid that she will spend the weekend away, she wants to travel to her old village because she heard it had been restored and it is slowly getting repopulated with a great housing program. Loid wonders if she wants to go there alone, as a family or with Yuri. Yor says she doesn’t want to trouble anyone as she is a bit sensitive and might cry a lot, she doesn’t want Yuri or Anya to see her like that. Then Loid asks if he can go with her because he wants to be there for her when she will be vulnerable, since they’re married, they vowed to be there for each other in moments of weakness.
They make arrangements for Anya and Bond who will spend the weekend at Becky’s and there’s no emotional farewell moment because Anya was already running in the mansion with candied peanuts in her mouth before saying goodbye-
Loid and Yor arrive together in the old village and when they try to book at the hotel, the owner tells them there is only a room. So they blush and they act like they don’t mind because they are MARRIED.
The visit goes well, Yor shows all the places of her childhood (when her parents were still alive) to Loid, at least the ones she remembers. Many buildings are brand-new so it looks weird. The few people who lives there are people who came because of the housing program so they are not from the village originally. Loid notices that Yor lost her Southern accent but he can still hear it sometimes as he sees the elderly who survived the war talking with that accent. But Yuri definitely has the Berlint accent.
Yor’s mood is a little bit better as she found the farm with apple trees and the endless red roses bushes that she loved so much. She kicks an apple tree and many apples fall down “just like old times” (Loid just stares in silent, he’s used to that, not even questioning how a little girl could have done that.).
Her old preschool doesn’t exist anymore as it had been destroyed by bombs, she tells Loid that it was the only time she went to school and after that she didn’t receive an education because her parents died and she had to take care of Yuri... Sometimes she feels embarrassed because Loid and Yuri are super smart and sometimes she feels out of place. Loid tells her she is “street smart” which is even better because she knows things that books could not teach Loid for example, understanding children and kicking angry cows to calm them down.
They finally find Yor’s old house and guess what ? It’s one of the few houses that hadn’t been destroyed. They knock at the door and a pregnant woman opens the door and welcomes them, she got the house from the special program and has recently moved in with her husband. She allows Yor and Loid to visit the house but everything inside has been replaced or restored. Yor still find scratches in the kitchen and she reveals her mother used to cut the meat with a lot of strength and her father was tired of buying new cutting boards everyday. Loid laughed because Yor also cuts with a strong hand. The garden is large and they used to have chicken and would grow vegetables, Yor smiles when she remembers how she caught a rabbit in the garden with her bare hands when she was 4 and how her mother cooked it for dinner (Loid questioning himself again then smiles).
When they’re about to leave, the husband of the new owner arrive and said he found something hidden in the wooden floor and he shows them a box filled memories of the Briar family, there are albums filled with pictures, diaries, baby clothes, jewels and other things. He wanted to bring it to the government just in case the family was still alive. The pregnant lady says she is so happy that she and Yuri are okay and promise to take care of the house. She also wants them to visit as much as they want.
When Loid and Yor are back to the hotel, they remember the single bed crisis but Yor is too busy with the Briar box to worry about the bed. They spend the whole evening looking at the baby pictures of Yor and Yuri with all the missing information like the birth charts. She found her mother’s recipe book filled all the dishes she used to cook, that stew is not exactly like the one she cooked with Camilla but she is glad because it’s her own cooking inspired by her mother’s. Loid suggests to help her to prepare those recipes and Yor is just so happy. She cries when she sees pictures of her parents because she had forgotten their faces and Loid makes sures to comfort her. Yor and Yuri took their whole look from their mother but the funniest thing is that Yor’s father is actually a pretty blonde blue eyed man, just like Loid, Yor mentions that she thought he was brunette but now she really see the ressemblance with her dad, even in kindness and patience. Her mother was actually the strict parent.
Loid shares details on what he remembers from his childhood and he wondered if they could have been friends as children. Yor thinks no because Loid seems to come from a distinguished family and there’s an awkward silence. Then they find her parents’ wedding vows and also the rings as if her mother knew that something would happen to them so they hid their memories in this box. Yor find a very long letter written by her mother and this letter explains how she knew Yor and Yuri would be orphan because of the war and how they would always be watching them from the sky and many angsty stuff that just makes Yor cry even harder. Loid and Yor spend the night in each other’s arms, comforting each other and Yor says she is glad there’s only one bed because she doesn’t know how she would have made it alone. She was tired of feeling alone.
The day after, they go to the library and they manage to get all the Briar family related documents. Yor’s mother used to be a well known performer from the Far East who retired after getting married while her father was...a doctor. A military doctor though (not Loid wondering why there are too many coincidences --many that’s why Yuri hates him so much). Yor’s mother used to be a “performer” who has a great physical strength ? Hm. Loid thinks a lot.
When they are in the train back to Berlint, Yor thanks Loid for taking care of her when she was vulnerable and as a present, she proposed to him one more time with her parents’ rings. He gladly accepts and he says he would do it a thousand times because he is her life partner.
Anya is happy to see her parents again (yeah she miss them) and she suddenly tells Yor that she loves her, and even calls her “Mommy” for the first time. Of course, Yor cried and calls Anya with many pet names.
Now Yor is always bubbly but gets flustered when she remembers how close and touchy she was with Loid during that trip. And also how they slept in the same bed.
“Papa and Mama kissed in a bed ?”
“NO WE DIDN’T”
Fin.
243 notes · View notes
garrison-girl-08 · 9 months
Text
Dangerously In Love
Pairing - Modern Thomas Shelby and Reader
Part 11- Previous Here
Warnings- Sexual content, swearing, violence. 18+
Thank you for all of your support on this fic! Would love to hear your thoughts!
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"Honestly, you two need your heads banging together," Ada sighed out, picking up her gin and tonic. "So he wants to try again?"
Sipping your own drink, you shrugged. Layla was with Tommy tonight, you had agreed to an after work drink. "He said, I just need to say the word. Me, like say what? Ok, move back in. We will be blissfully happy, never argue again?"
"Well, everyone argues, Y/n. So maybe that's not realistic," she laughed, trying to cheer you up. "You too are just crazy! Crazy in love, both love the chase that's what it is,"
Shaking your head, you thought back to some of the arguments. Tommy coming home late, not communicating with you. You were convinced he was having an affair, at the time.
Flashback.
You had been sat on the top of the stairs, for over an hour. Layla sat with you breastfeeding again. That’s all you seemed to do, feed her, change her, pace the floor with her. She was only there months old, but with the lack of sleep.
You were struggling. But would you admit that? No. You tried to push through.
Tommy was meant to be home, three hours ago. He wasn’t even answering your calls. Things had been strained between you, this week. You were tired, taking it out on him. He was working long hours, trying to grow the business.
It was 10pm now, and pitch black. Stroking her hair, while you fed you sighed. Was he with a woman? Someone younger? With no stretch marks and perfect boobs?
“Jesus, you scared the shit out of me,” Tommy hissed, as he walked in the door. “What are you doing, eh?”
Throwing his keys, he looked up at you. Waiting for an answer. “Waiting for you,” you mumbled, back aching from feeding in this position. Slightly adjusting positions, you let your eyes run over him.
What were you expecting? Lipstick on his collar? His shirt open? You were getting paranoid. Feeling like you were going crazy.
“On the stairs, babe?” He chuckled. Wow, he seems in good spirits, you thought bitterly.
“Why aren’t you answering my calls? Are you ignoring me?” You quizzed, knowing you were probably over reacting. Climbing the stairs tiredly, Tommy sat beside you stroking Layla’s cheek.
“Babe, my phones dead. I was over in Digbeth,” he tried to explain. Not in the mood for another argument. He knew you were struggling, used to working, and being busy.
“Doing what?” You snapped, pulling your nightie up as she finished feeding.
Standing, Tommy took her from you. Kissing her little nose, “Not this again, babe, eh? Check my diary if you don’t believe me,”
Turning, he walked away to the bedroom.
Flashback over
Taking another sip of your drink, you pinched the bridge of your nose. “The chase…. It …. can only last so long, Ada,”
“What are you up to, sexy?”
The message from Jax read, you had just walked into your house. The house… that had never felt so big, and lonely. You felt down tonight, needing some company. Sitting on the stairs, you typed back
“Just got home, how about you?”
“Night off, fancy some company? Xx”
God, he was pushy. It wouldn’t hurt to have drink with him. Would it?Twenty minutes later, your doorbell rang. You had quickly freshened up, changed into jeans and a bodysuit. Taking a deep breath, you opened the door. There he was, flowers in hand, a bottle of Merlot.
“Good evening, Y/n,” he winked, stepping forward, planting a kiss on your lips.
Tommy checked Layla, before heading back to his laptop. A Ring doorbell notification, had popped up on his phone. At your house, who the fuck was going there at this time? Flicking through the camera, he spotted a man.
His blood starting pumping through his body. Feeling sick, you had a man over. In your house. Fuck….
Jax walked around your open plan kitchen, admiring what he saw. You knew the house was big, too big for you and Layla. But, you and Tommy had worked hard to buy it. Just before you got married.
“Fuck! You live here?” He exclaimed, as you opened the wine. Suddenly feeling inferior in your own home.
“Yeah, me and Layla. Well.. we all lived here. Before, before me and her Dad spilt up,” you couldn’t hide the sadness, in your voice.
Walking to the back door, he looked into the garden. “You have a gardener?” He mocked, gesturing to the luxurious lawn. Getting irritated, you thrust the glass of wine into his hand.
“I’m proud of my home, it took us a lot of hard work and saving to buy this,” you snapped. If he was going to be like this, you would tell him to go. It was becoming apparent, your lives were just too different. Did you even like him?
Taking the wine bottle from your hand, he pulled you close to him. "Just relax, hmm? I was only teasing, you have a lovely home," His hands began to sneak around your waist, holding your body tight.
Pressing a soft kiss to your lips, hands stroking your hair. He smelt good, a deep musky scent. Manly.
"Come, let's sit, tell me about your day?" Jax suggested. Guiding him into the lounge, you both sat for the next hour. Chatting, and drinking wine.
Tommy laid in bed, wide awake. Debating whether to send someone over. Pretend Layla had forgotten her school bag. Interrupt your date night. Turning over again, he huffed. It was his own doing, he had messed up. Letting you see him with Clarissa.
Tommy needed to talk to you. Ada would know who this man was. He would start there first.
Sitting on his knee, you kissed Jax back. It was only a matter of time, before this was going to happen. But, would he think you were easy? Squeezing your ass, he ground his hips up to yours.
He had undone your jeans, without you even realising. Slipping them over your hips, he flipped you over. Hovering over you, pulling them off swiftly.
“Your body... fuck," he growled, kissing along your breasts as he pulled your bodysuit down. Pert breasts springing free, while he attacked your nipple. Licking small circles around it.
You began feeling exposed, your confidence had been knocked. Since the incident with Chris, you hadn’t told Jax anything about your ex. Wanting to keep that private, but you did hardly know him.
“Slow down,” you giggled, as he grabbed your hand. Holding it over his growing bulge. Pushing hard against your body. Fingers slipping inside of your silk panties. Exploring your folds, finding what he wanted.
“Jax, just slow down. You’re squashing me, I can’t breathe,” you protested. Wriggling under him.
Sitting up, he palmed your breasts. “Let’s go upstairs.” He stated, pulling you up with him.
This was happening fast, did you even want it to? Picking you up, you wrapped your legs around him. His cock pressing against you, begging to be freed from his jeans.
"This way," you mumbled through kisses, his hands holding your ass. Thoughts of Tommy and Clarissa entered your head, he was probably with her now. Fucking her, while your daughter slept.
Dropping you onto the bed, he quickly pulled his jeans off. No underwear, palming his cock in his hand, he licked his lips. He wasn't as big as Tommy, but he had the girth.
Stop comparing, Y/n!
"Come here," he beckoned, pushing your head towards his swollen member. Pushing himself into your mouth, as you tried to look sexy and not gag. "Yeah that's it, suck me hard, take it," he encouraged. "Suck me, baby, suck me hard!"
His words didn't feel sexy though, it felt like a command. Holding the back of your head, he held it tight, you trying to breathe through your nose. "Yeah, your mouth feels fucking good," He started to buck his hips, fucking your mouth. "Take it all,"
Releasing your head, he held your hair. "Take it," Pulling back, you had to catch your breath, eyes watering. “So close there,” he sighed, he had wanted to fill your small mouth with his cum. Watch it spill out.
Pulling your bodysuit from you, he left you naked. “We can be good together, Y/n,” he stated stroking your cheek.
His middle finger sipping into you, despite being wary. You could feel your body react. “Condom,” you mumbled, as he nibbled your neck.
“Really?” He laughed, as you moved away from him. Fumbling inside your bedside drawer. “It’s better without,”
“I’m not on the pill,” you lied, as he reluctantly slipped it on. Sinking deep inside of you.
You couldn’t help but worry, he thought there was something special between you. You weren’t going to commit, to any other man. It was meant to be fun…. but, it suddenly didn't feel fun. Not at all.
Tags-
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tiredly101 · 11 months
Text
A picture not ment to be seen part 4
Pairing: Wally Darling x Writer!Male reader
New Neighbor Masterlist
Summary: Wally was sitting in his tree while his mind was plaged by multiple memories, all of them involving you but then one hit him with a strength he didn't know existed...
Illustrated Au, picture done by @nonomives
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Wally was now staring at the tree, he has never shown anyone where he hid from others for some quiet and peace but apperently he showed M/n. The beautiful man who was hunting him and whom he also didn't remember.
Wally stared at the distance while feeling someone leaning on him, he looked briefly to see M/n with a huge smile while giggling softly and then he was gone which made Wally sight heavily and then he felt drops; rain started pouring down at him and he climbed down the tree.
When Wally was going to walk towards his house he felt a hand drab his and he could swear he could actually feel the warmth radiating in his palm and the little squeeze he received from however was holding his hand, he knew it was M/n because it felt familiar. It felt like if he was finally at home...
"Go to the little star's house, she is one of the few that can actually give you answers to your questions... Love you my artist," said a voice softly in Wally's ear and he fastly recognized it as M/n's. He knew it was his brain playing cruel tricks on him but he couldn't help but whimper when he felt the warm presence holding his hand leave, when M/n soft hold on his hand left.
Wally walked towards the only star he knew and that was Sally's house and quite literally open the door with brutality which made Sally squeak when she saw him. She tried to kick him out but it was too late, he saw the pictures that had M/n which decorated her walls and the stack of scrips that had in a soft handwriting the words "Written by M/n Cherry" which made his heart clench painfully.
"Sally, I want answers...," said Wally softly feeling how his blue hair was starting to get on his face letting him know that the rain ruined his pompodur.
"NOW!," Screamed Wally making Sally, who was previously looking at the ground with guilt, flinch at the sudden raise in Wally's voice. This is the first time she has ever heard him scream but Wally soon felt his anger dilate when he felt that familiar warm presence hug him from behind making Wally shake slightly since he wanted to actually see and hear M/n. Snapping his attention back to Sally when she stumbled while moving some things around until her hands stopped taking a hold of something, it seemed like a... notebook?
"M/n said to give you this, I took it and never gave it to you but I think is time...," Said Sally while Wally held the notebook in his hands with curiosity picking at him. Wally ran his fingers through the broken spine of the notebook and his confusion was clear on his face so Sally told him what the notebook was.
“It's M/n's diary”
Part four is done peeps! Let me know if you wanna join the tag list!
Tag list from New Neighbor because this is season two:
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whinlatter · 5 months
Note
HEYYY I really want you to reflect more on Ginny’s insecurity when it comes to her relationship with Harry. I’ve been thinking about it since your latest chapter. I don’t know how you can portray all these emotions tbh😭 it’s just way too perfect
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ok the inbox is aflutter with questions along these lines so! with no spoilers for the rest of the fic, here's a little (big) lunch break meta on my read on the tensions and insecurities in harry and ginny's post-war relationship, and where harry and ginny are at at this point in beasts. thank you anon! 💞
spoilers for chapter 9 are below the cut!
in chapter nine, we see harry and ginny physically the closest they have been to each other in months, but beginning to discover the real distances between them at play in the current version of their relationship, and see the symptoms showing up in their interactions and (lack of) conversation. after the flashback, this chapter begins with ginny, back an awful time at school, waking up in her boyfriend’s bed, enjoying the luxury of time together and opportunities for physical intimacy. as @ashesandhackles pointed out in her very lovely comment, physical touch - particularly a very natural and instinctual expression of intimacy - is a defining feature of harry and ginny’s romantic relationship in the canon series. canon’s also full of examples of them communicating silently/non-verbally (their in-jokes, as early as PoA, but also the various moments that the two read each other’s minds or have entire interactions without having to say a word). these are obviously important, lovely things and something both of them value in their relationship. but, in this case, where ginny is hiding so much, they can quickly become things to hide behind. tellingly, ginny does not wake up thinking oh good now I have all this time to tell harry what’s up with me, and, over the course of the chapter, finds that secrets have a way of slipping out even if you try your very best to keep them under wraps.
why won't ginny open up?
without spoiling the rest of the fic (!) i think there are few things to bear in mind about why ginny isn't opening up to harry, and what insecurities she might have about the relationship that are preventing her from being honest about the hardships she's going through.
the first is that ginny, canonically, is an extremely guarded person who does rarely opens up, including - or especially - to harry. late canon is full of examples of harry seeking reassurance and emotional comfort in ginny, but examples of ginny doing the same in harry are few and far between. 'lucky you' is a reminder that ginny's own distressing experiences credential her as someone harry can seek reassurance and answers from; it is not a cry for reciprocal help or support. her mentioning riddle's diary in HBP when she finds out about the prince's book works similarly - though harry reassures her about it, her concern is for him, not herself. in the birthday kiss scene, only the 'there's the silver lining i've been looking for' line gives away that ginny has been going through emotional difficulty. in fact, it's ron who conveys that ginny has been 'really cut up' over the breakup. throughout the series, ginny consistently practices a kind of emotional selflessness and self-sufficiency. she understands how important she becomes as a source of comfort and safety for harry, and she is happy and proud to fill that role. she cares deeply about harry, she wants to meet his emotional needs, and she does it very well. she's canonically a fantastic liar, too, which is maybe my favourite characterisation note from her - while hermione and ron are both very easily emotionally read, ginny has an incredible poker face and can lie so well she can have literal dung on her hands and convince her own mother that it was crookshanks throwing dungbombs at the door of the order meeting. in canon, we see ginny crumble only once in her emotional stoic-ness in front of harry (in her bedroom after the birthday kiss - and even then she turns away and tries to hide it). we can speculate about why it is that ginny is like this (...), and i talk more about what this means for harry and ginny long term below. but for now suffice to say that ginny doesn't have a track record of divulging her emotional state and anxieties in very many people, including harry.
the second is that ginny is fiercely protective of harry and tries to shield him from pain, including her own. from CoS thru the rest of the series, ginny cares about shielding harry from criticism, distress, and emotional harm ('leave him alone!') it makes sense that, given ginny's interest in safeguarding harry's happiness and keeping her own sufferings private, she would also seek to protect him from information about herself that would upset him or make him feel worse when she recognises he's already going through a tough enough time. (harry himself practices this form of love in his parental relationship with sirius, eg. trying to retract 'my scar hurts' in GoF - sweet child).
the third - relatedly - is that ginny has begun to link her symptoms to her own wartime experiences, and to torture she endured under the carrows, the full extent of which hasn't been addressed at this point in the fic and which harry doesn't know. harry spends most of DH ignorant about what is happening at hogwarts - he worries for ginny post-sword-stealing, but he's reassured that she won't have been tortured because she only got sent into the forbidden forest. cue neville in the hog's head tunnel quite modestly revealing what really has happened at hogwarts, that the torture of children by way of the cruciatus curse has become a daily occurrence, and that the DA, ginny especially, have gone through a fresh hell. that harry crucioed amycus carrow for so much at spitting at mcgonagall tells us something about how harry might take the news of what actually went down at hogwarts during the war and especially what happened to ginny. in ginny's mind, the idea of strolling up to harry and banging on at length about the sufferings she has endured would be to lay more at his door than he deserves to have to worry about.
there's also this other point, the only issue between harry and ginny that is verbally addressed (but not resolved) in this chapter, which is ginny's lingering insecurities about her relationship with the trio, which also colours all of this. the conversation with harry and ginny in bed about harry staying for at the burrow christmas in ron and hermione’s absence is actually the first section i wrote for this chapter, and one of my favourite parts to write. it picks up this theme of ginny’s ambiguous relationship to The Trio as a unit, something i think a lot about and which i play with a bit in other writing (it comes out at a few points in orchards). i want to write a proper meta about this one day, but running thru this canon is a dynamic of ginny constantly being left out of the trio, from ‘go away ginny’ in PoA (‘oh, that’s nice!’) all the way thru DH. ginny only rarely explicitly complains about this exclusion, though it’s clear she has both noticed it and is irked by it. by the series’ end, this dynamic remains unresolved, even though ginny has become emotionally important to all three of the trio individually.
so why doesn't ginny get angrier about it? we know ginny is a stubborn person perfectly capable of sticking up for herself when being mistreated. that we would expect someone as outspoken and stubborn as she is to actually kick off many more times suggests not that ginny doesn't care, but that she has learned to actively fight her impulse to raise the issue and demand better for herself. my read is that the trio excluding her is, like harry's chosen one fate, just another thing ginny has had to (privately) be hurt by, but get her head around and accept because she recognises it’s part of a bigger picture and, by hbp, connected to a broader more serious quest that has something to do with the. (lots of hinny fics have ginny get mad at harry after the war about the break-up and for keeping her in the dark, and, sometimes, for keeping her out of the trio, but i think actually ginny is too far down the self-denying i-just-have-to-deal-with-this path to get mad without external stimulus. she hasn’t let herself be mad about this sort of thing for a long time, much as she has a right to). as a result, the ginny we see in beasts is a person who has become very self-denying, and who has spent a lot of time telling herself she shouldn’t be selfish or let her ego or pride get the better of her, and to accept certain lots in life for the greater good. would harry/ron/hermione be horrified if actually made to confront this? yes, i think so, absolutely! but they have done this to her and are yet to face the music on how they have excluded her so consistently throughout her teen years. it's a tension that absolutely still needs to be raised and resolved.
what will happen now harry knows something is up?
this chapter sees harry start to realise something's going on with ginny. he finds out ginny saw her ex, michael, about a health condition he's having that might be related to hogwarts last year, that ginny describes 'DA stuff'. luna later accidentally clues him onto the fact ginny, too, has had some mysterious health issues she hasn't raised with him, despite their near constant letter communication over the past four months (luna, your bluntness is extremely narratively convenient, thank you). ginny's blurted out question to harry - ‘you still want to stay, right?’ when finding out romione aren't spending much time at the burrow that christmas - echoes harry’s own at the start of the fic (‘you’ll write, right?’). it’s meant as the same act of a character blurting out a revealing question that speaks to a big insecurity and need they have. when harry calls her up on it before bed later that night, ginny tries to reassure him by showing him some of this mental work she’s done over the years to understand and accept what he + ron + hermione are to each other, reassuring him that she doesn’t want to intrude on that, and to go as far as to say that although he’s extremely welcome at the burrow for christmas, he doesn’t have to spend his christmas there if he’d rather be with his best mates. and what we have in harry’s response is him having to face up, for the first time, not just to the extent of ginny’s exclusion from his friend group, but how much work she has done to be at peace with her exclusion from parts of his life and particularly from his friend group which includes her own friend and brother. in her most insecure thoughts, ginny’s thinking oh god what if harry doesn’t want to be here with me as much as he does with ron and hermione; harry’s like, i’m just now realising the person lying next to me seems to think i want to leave to go hang out with my friends instead of spend christmas with her during this awful time for her family, seems to think i’m doing her a favour by staying, and seems to be hiding something from me that is connected to her own wellbeing.
what will harry's reaction be?
i will be keeping my cards reasonably close to my chest on this one, but i will say this... it was important for me to have two issues come up at the same time: harry working out ginny's keeping secrets while also finding out that she feels much more insecure about how important she is to him and how much she just wants him to be happy even at her own expense. i also wanted it to take place in a chapter that hammers home how much the weasleys, including ginny, are people grieving a great loss and struggling with it, harry a witness to ginny's attempts to hold her family together and make this time together special. of course harry's suspicious, and, likely, hurt. but he's also aware of what she and her family are going through, watching them all suffer extreme pain, and he's also just accidentally been informed of some of his own failings and shortcomings when it comes to ginny and her insecurities about her place in his life. that harry isn't immediately demanding answers and calling ginny out is a sign of him both processing dynamics years in the making, but it's also him reading the room. it would be extremely entitled to storm in and demand answers from ginny when he is seeing her and her family in such extreme distress - so instead he's keeping quiet for now, showing her wordless physical affection, and really deeping what's going on here.
harry and ginny will be facing the music very (very) soon. so far in the fic, the moments where ginny has come closest to giving the game away have been whenever harry and ginny are physically in the same place (st andrews, hogsmeade midnight field picnic). i wanted all the issues to start to come up this chapter now that harry and ginny are back together 24/7 and can't hide behind carefully chosen words in letters, and for their physical displays of intimacy and affection to start to stop working as well as strategies to paper over deeper conversations that need to be had. hence ginny waking up in harry’s bed with no nightmares after physical intimacy at the start of the chapter, but going back to the nightmares despite his proximity and physical displays of affection by the time we get to the chapter's end. their coping mechanisms are running out of road.
would harry be jealous of ginny telling michael?
harry (and ginny) are canonically a bit jealous, absolutely. but they're only really jealous when they're broken up and have more reasons to be insecure about their relationship (ginny with cho, harry with dean/krum - all are tensions that happen while they're broken up. when they're together, it's something they laugh about, eg. romilda and fleur). some of the responses to the fic (understandably) have focussed on oh my god ginny saw her ex. but i think ginny seeing her ex (which she doesn't deliberately keep from harry but realises after the fact she should tell him about, and is careful not to lie to him) is less likely to be upsetting to harry than the idea that ginny went and saw someone that she shared intense, traumatic experiences with that harry wasn’t a part of, and that, throughout DH, he’s in the dark about. that it's michael doesn't improve things, but it's the bigger context that makes the act more upsetting.
are harry and ginny doomed?
a lot of hinny critics cite various versions of the above dynamics as reasons why hinny would ultimately not make it long-term as a couple. i (obviously) disagree with that, because i believe these are two characters willing and able to make this relationship flourish and thrive. with that said, i don't think people writing harry and ginny as a pairing should ignore the existing dynamics within hinny as a relationship that would need to be unpacked and worked on as they rebuild their relationship as a foundation for a happy, healthy future together. this includes the fact that their relationship has been uneven in the level of mutual emotional support in canon, and full of cultivated omissions and silences. i'm not blaming harry (much) for this - i think harry has had, if not good reasons, then understandable reasons why, in the canon timeline, he gives ginny less emotional support than she gives him, not least because 1) he has (frankly) needed more (not to diminish ginny's post chamber trauma, but i think this is fair to say), 2) because ginny has great trouble accepting emotional support, and 3) because the arc of the later series is harry slowly accepting the role of the chosen one, deciding that he is not a normal person, and setting himself on a singular path to destruction stripped of ties to other people, even though he longs for the life of a normal person deep down. less dramatically, harry also ends the series a repressed 17 year old boy with some obliviousness issues and some growing up to do in ways that make him actually extremely typical of even emotionally healthy teenage boys (do i think every kind supportive man i now know in my late twenties was the best at emotional literacy and maturity at age 17? no no i do not. having met some of them at that time, i can you for a fact that they were, in fact, Not, and none of them were the subject of a terrible prophecy and all fought in precisely zero wars).
i believe harry wants a mutually supportive relationship with ginny. i believe him capable of having just that, and willing to do the work to build it. we know in canon he wants to build a family and instinctually practices reasonably healthy dynamics within one (in his familial relationship with sirius, it's often harry who sets the boundaries and healthy precedents). harry also often worries about ginny's wellbeing, physical and emotional, in his internal monologue, and sincerely wants to make her feel better about the awful things going on around them and that he is putting her through (see the birthday kiss scene - his instinct is to comfort her, and it's ron's rage that stops him). i'm always struck that in DH he starts to watch ginny on the map not when she might be in physical danger (eg. when she comes into contact with carrows/snape), but when she is in bed, alone with her thoughts/dreams/nightmares, and imagines himself reaching into her brain and hoping she's doing ok. in the battle he tries to reassure ginny in the thick of fighting even though he knows they are 'empty words'. across all his relationships more generally, he does show capacities for emotional awareness and generosity, consistently building loving, supportive connections with other characters throughout the series arc, and worrying particularly about the emotional state of the people he views as family (sirius chief among them).
when push comes to shove, harry potter, by the end of DH, is getting much better at knowing how to make his closest loved ones feel better. my favourite example being his perfect detonation of words and physical comfort to ron in the forest of dean - ron feels forgiven, loved and understood by harry so beautifully in that scene. i argue that he would take this hard-won work-in-progress trait and run with it when it comes to building his postwar relationship with ginny. but i think harry has a lot still to learn about how to communicate effectively, how to verbalise that concern and action it into meaningful emotional support and comfort, and at this point in beasts, he's perhaps beginning to realise how deficient he's been in this department. ginny, too, has a lot of work of her own to do. and it's my pleasure to try and figure out how they do that, and i'm grateful for the faith in me having a go at writing a version of it in this fic!
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yanderelionwrites · 11 months
Text
Just Let Me Adore You - (Female Yandere x Reader)
A one-shot I wrote using my OC Adore. Just wanted to practice my writing really.
Content Warning: yandere, obsessive/delusional and creepy behavior, invasion of privacy, implied fem reader?? I don't specify pronouns, but they share a dorm with the fem yandere
Word Count: 1.1k
Your roommate, Adore, sighed blissfully as she watched you sleep, smiling at the way your face was completely relaxed and devoid of any worry or stress the day always brought you. She loved seeing you like this. She wished she could always have you look this peaceful, but for now, she would have to settle for these early morning observing sessions. Adore stifled a coo as you murmured in your sleep, turning to the side to get more comfortable. Your alarm was due to go off soon at 9:00 AM, so you were most likely stirring awake now. It’s time for her to get into position.
Adore sat down at the desk on her side of the room and opened her laptop, pulling up a random assignment that was due in the near future. She wanted you to think she was a hardworking and studious person, after all, since that was the type of person you said you admired when she read your diary. Adore began to idly work until she heard the cute jingle of the alarm on your phone. She couldn’t help but grin ear to ear at the sound of you grumbling and hitting the ‘off’ button. You are absolutely adorable when you’ve just woken up.
You yawned and hopped out of bed, the little taps of your feet against the tile floor resounding throughout the dorm room. Adore knew that you liked to put socks on before doing anything else.
“Morning, Adore,” You mumbled in your still-sleepy state, pulling on a pair of pink ankle socks.
She turned around in her chair, chipper as always, and said, “Good morning! Sleep well?”
You hummed and nodded. “I did, actually. I think it’s been getting better recently.”
Adore was delighted to hear that. She knew that carefully watching over you late at night and early in the morning would do you good. Her heart soared at the thought of being able to help you.
“That’s great to hear!” She clapped her hands together. “Say, now that you’re awake, would you like to go and eat breakfast with me? I hear they’re having a waffle special at the dining hall today!”
You gave her an apologetic smile, saying, “Ah, I’m sorry, I already agreed that I’d meet up with Isabella and help her study before her test. Maybe tomorrow though?”
Her eye twitched, but you didn’t seem to notice. “Sure! We can do it tomorrow.”
Adore turned back around to face her laptop once more and scowled. Why were you hanging out with lowlifes like Isabella when you could be spending time with her? That bitch hadn’t an ounce of love and appreciation towards you like she did. Couldn’t you see that?
You finished getting ready for the day and slung your backpack around your shoulders. Opening the room's door, you leaned back and waved. “Well, see ya later, girl! I’m off.”
Snapping out of her thoughts, Adore enthusiastically waved back and said, “Yeah! See you later!”
Right after the door closed, she stood up and shut her laptop lid with a little too much force necessary. How long has Isabella been getting one-on-one time with you recently? I bet she doesn’t even need the tutoring lessons. She just wants you all to herself! Adore thought, chewing on her thumbnail while pacing around the room. 
She sighed as she collapsed onto your bed. You make her worried sick, you know that? And yet you’ll never be aware of how much she cares about you. But that’s okay. She’s content with just pining from afar. For now.
Turning to lay on her stomach, she reached for your blanket, taking a deep and long sniff of it before returning it to where it was. It did little to calm her beating heart, so she tried the pillow next. Now that was good stuff. She pressed her whole face into the softness, ingraining the scent into her memory. It smelled just like you, specifically your shampoo. Adore couldn’t get enough. She was so glad that she had her classes later in the day.
Taking one last whiff, she rose up from your comfy bed, meticulously making sure everything was back in place. She doubted that you would even notice, but better safe than sorry. She’d done this plenty of times, and you haven’t said a word.
Adore moved on to the next part of her routine: checking your desk for any loose thing she could keep for herself. She had a small collection of things you wouldn’t miss or have thrown away, and she’s been adding to it almost every day. Usually, she would rummage through your trash first, but you had taken it out the other day, so no dice there. She scanned over each item on your desk before opening the drawers and searching there. Her eyes lit up at seeing a stray pencil in the bottom drawer and quickly snatched it up. Darn, no bite marks on this one, but all well. I’ll take it anyway.
Finally came your closet. Her favorite part! Flinging open the doors, Adore giggled in delight at seeing your cute clothes hanging all nice and neat on the rack. She sees them all the time, but it never fails to fill her with joy. Gently running her fingers over the variety of fabrics, she stopped at one particular sweater that was her absolute favorite to see you in. It was pink (her favorite color!) and decorated with black cats. She wasn’t sure what drew her to it, maybe the fact that you looked so good in it? Who knows. Adore wished you wore it more.
She pulled out a few other pieces of clothes to admire, sometimes just to smell the laundry detergent you used. Oh, what she’d give to wear these. Maybe if she asked nicely, you’d let her? Adore got to the end of the rack, only to stumble across your shower towel. Your used shower towel. Now this was a wonderful treat.
Gingerly, she took the towel off its hook, just wanting to feel it in her hands. She blushed as she thought about where this had been. Does she dare do what she’s thinking about doing? Yes…she does…
Slowly, Adore brought the cloth up to her face. What usually made her heart beat calmly was now making it beat out of control. She sunk her nose into the softness of the towel and sniffed, rubbing her face all around it too. 
Intoxicating…absolutely-
“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” An all too familiar voice spoke from behind her.
And for the first time ever, Adore didn’t want to turn and see your face again.
I'm so bad at endings Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading! 💕
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thesirencult · 7 months
Text
ICY DIARIES 💎 2 : NEVER JUDGE A BOOK'S ENDING BY ITS FIRST CHAPTER
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On this episode of "Icy Diaries" we will explore the dynamic of personal timelines, divine timing and why you shouldn't listen to the "gurus".
Back when I was in highschool I used to share a desk with a girl named Marie. Most people wanted to leave our small hometown and move two hours away, to the big city. Everyone was obsessed with leaving and never coming back until their success could make people jealous on a cliché highschool reunion.
Marie though was different. She decided to stay in our hometown and focus on herself. She was always very overweight and never had a boyfriend. Once we were talking about first kisses and she confessed to me that she had not even held hands with a boy, let alone kissed one.
She also didn't know what career she wanted to follow, even though she was a straight-As student, highly emotionally intelligent and very tech savvy and intelligent.
Marie was a late bloomer.
A few years passed, C*VID hit and I decided to visit my hometown.
I got off the train and I started walking towards my childhood home, thinking of warm cups of cocoa and waffles.
As I turned the corner I saw a long haired brunette in tight gym clothes getting off the passenger side of a Porsche. Her man was holding the door open, waiting for her to get off the car.
Looking my way she smiled and waved. I immediately recognized that warm smile and those caring brown eyes ! It was Marie !!!
Turns out, Marie trusted her path and didn't listen to others around her urging her to go to the big city. She worked part time jobs and started attending an online European university program that she could afford without going into debt. For 4 years she had worked on building lucrative online businesses and had founded several projects along the way, even selling a couple of e-commerce stores and a SaaS web app. She had tried moving to the city and had been accepted to a good school but she didn't want to burden her family. People made fun of her for not leaving the town and said that she was scared to get out of her comfort zone ! Who knew !
One day she decided to hit the gym and she became friends with her mentor (a story for another day) and a guy who went to our middle school but switched to a different highschool. He didn't leave our hometown too. His family owned a business and he decided that he wanted to learn the ins and outs of it to take over at some point. It was a very very lucrative venture. Like in the MILLIONS. I learnt that they were planning on getting married and moving in together in their home.
I would have never imagined these two together, but seeing them now side by side something clicked in me :
It all happens for a reason, at the right time.
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The story above, portrays to me the importance of following your heart.
I know that many people tell you to suck it up and go cold. Sometimes we need that. Other times though, we need to trust the journey.
Marie never seemed like the type of person who could build businesses. She kept private. Marie played the game right though.
She didn't go after the BIG city sharks. She opted for her small town boy who kept her satisfied. Because that's what she wanted.
She didn't force it and she made the best she could with the tools she had.
Now she can enjoy her life, just at 25, while other classmates of ours are slaving away in corporate offices to pay off college debt.
That was the right decision for her.
Each one of us is on their personal journey. Your timeline is yours. It's not your mama's, neighbour's or friend's. If you can utilise a cheat code don't make it harder just to feel like a victim.
You won't get a prize for suffering.
After my meeting with Marie I started seeing life differently. I decided that I would never let anyone shame me for my choices. Your inner voice holds the answers, you just need to listen.
I always wanted to follow my passion for astrology and helping people to reach their highest potential. Actually Marie was one of the first people I analysed the chart of. She was super chill and open minded from the start. I'm very happy that she let her light shine to the world, in her own way.
You are a queen and you are always on time 💋
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heavenlycloud · 1 year
Note
soft hours! I’m not sure if you’ve seen chaewon’s fim log where she was making this strawberry scented candle, but just imagine her doing that for you or making it together as a cute date activity:(
strawberry candles ︵‿๑₊˚꒷🍓₊˚๑‿︵
warnings: none
authors note: i'm sorry for taking so long to get this up! thank you so much for sending this in, and hope you enjoyed it <3
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chaewon spent the remainder of her evening running frantically around the kitchen to make her strawberry candle set. the project was an impulsive late night decision because it was too early to sleep but too late to go out somewhere. besides, she'd been meaning to use the little candle making set you'd given her after she mentioned mindlessly that she'd wanted one.
the instructions that came with the set were fairly straightforward so she skimmed through them without realizing she definitely messed up a few places. much to her luck, you knowing that she would screw up the first one, purchased two just in case. from your room you could hear the microwave beeping on and off followed by the door opening and closing every few seconds. chaewon's somewhat quiet mumbles to herself made you smile as you scrolled through weverse and answered the messages fans left for you.
nearly four hours passed and you had finally grown tired of tiktok, weverse, and netflix. chaewon had finished in the kitchen hours ago so you figured she was asleep, and there was no use in trying to find her before bed. however, just as you went to turn off your bedside lamp there was a knock at your door.
chaewon opened the door and walked in with a candle in her hand, "look, i made one of the candles from the set you gave me." you sat up in your bed and looked the small jar over. compared to the picture on the box, the wick was off center, one of the strawberries was on it's side and missing a top, and there were multiple wax drippings on the side of the container.
your leader grinned sheepishly as your fingers brushed hers when you took it from her hands. her cheeks flushed pink as she explained, "it looks a little messy because i screwed up a few places-" you set the candle on your side table and told her, "i love anything you do, unnie. thank you, i'll use it until there's nothing left." chaewon's ears burned a bright shade of red and she internally cursed herself for letting you make her this flustered. yet her heart thrummed in her chest and she loved the butterflies you released into her stomach by the smallest actions.
you brushed one of chaewon's hairs from her face, "thank you for thinking of me." internally the older woman thought 'that's all i ever think about. you.' she was pulled from her thoughts when she felt your arms wrap around her body in a warm embrace which she melted into. you tucked her head beneath your chin and murmured, "you smell like strawberries..."
chaewon felt her heartrate double and you'd be lying if you said you didn't too. she pulled away from you quickly and laughed awkwardly, "okay goodnight y/n! sleep well!" before you could even tell her the same thing she was gone, running back to her room to hide her face in her pillow as she wrote to her diary how she was so completely and utterly in love with you.
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vickyvicarious · 1 year
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A take on outside perspectives on the Crew of Light, arranged from most to least suspicious:
Jonathan Harker - I don't think Mina or Mr. Hawkins were spreading the news about his disappearance, so aside from his closest friends it seems like he left on a work trip and then came back months late newly married and acting very different. Much more world-weary but doesn't talk about it. Inherits money and the law firm but immediately just fucks off after being chief mourner at the funeral rather than taking care of what he's been given. Obviously he got sick and then his boss died and it's very sad, but someone said they saw him wandering around London buying drinks with various workmen and there's a lot of paperwork to be done here at the firm! Not to mention, was that him scribbling away into that notebook on the train? Couldn't have been, Jonathan was always a friendly and mild-mannered man, and that person had a dangerous aura and a very large knife, not to mention shockingly white hair. Still, he looked just like Jonathan...
Arthur Holmwood - The poor young Lord Godalming had had a very trying end of summer to be sure. That said, he has responsibilities as the new Lord. He only spent a few days at home mourning his father and fiance before leaving on the evening of what was meant to be his wedding night and coming back deeply shaken. Then he went off again the next morning and came back far worse, staring at his trembling hands, sobbing behind closed doors. The third time he left, he hasn't come home, but his messages are progressively odder. He's spending money all over the place, in very odd ways. He's hiring people for unusual jobs, he's sticking his nose in all sorts of people's business, what is going on with him? It's probably the bad influence of his American friend.
Jack Seward - Hennessey has been sort of wondering when his boss would have a mental break. He's been looking more and more exhausted/making questionable decisions over the past few months, and everyone knows he was first rejected by, and then failed to save the life of, the girl he loved. Also, sometimes he phonograph diaries with his door open; the man is sad. The loss of his most interesting patient appears to have been the final straw, and now he's gone off on some sort of hopefully healing vacation with all his odd friends and that professor he's always raved about. It's pretty inconvenient timing but hopefully he gets some rest.
Mina Harker - She obviously has friends other than Lucy but they don't seem as close. So the sudden marriage abroad is a little surprising but then again she and Harker have always been mad for one another, and apparently he's gotten promoted so it makes sense. Quitting her job is expected, and her withdrawal from much public life for the period right after her wedding/when her husband is either very busy or going mad, only makes sense. A little worrying that she hasn't been writing lately but not too alarming, especially given her best friend's abrupt death.
Van Helsing - With the many hats this man wears, frequent and unpredictable travel doesn't seem out of the ordinary for him. Nor does going down an esoteric research binge or being out of touch for a while. The garlic flower orders were a little odd, admittedly, but hey, easy profit. He probably had some kind of experimental treatment in mind. Maybe he has a unique private patient.
Quincey Morris - No one who knows Quincey has any idea what he's up to at any given moment, unless they are physically in the same room as him. Sometimes not even then. Equally, no one who knows Quincey will find "visited a friend in London, fell in love, got rejected, hung out for a while, started shooting bats, went vampire hunting with some new bosom friends" difficult to believe coming from him.
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peterrefur · 9 months
Text
Afraid of the darkness ⅏ Simpbur x F!Reader
Summary: Your co-worker, Simpbur, breaks into your house after being late for a meeting with you. His knowledge of you and your behaviour leads him to believe that at the meeting at your house, you were supposed to profess your love and start a relationship. However, the fact that Wilbur was late caused you to go to bed on a summer's day, which did not make it easy for the man to stop himself from having you. Notes: Hey Mate!!! I’m Peter and I say right away that English is not my first language. I’m curious to hear your opinion about this work in the comments! Enjoy!
The story features: - TW! Rape
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"𝔹eautiful. Smart. Loved. But him! He has ruined everything! He doesn't need her, she just needs ME! Today I will prove it to her. I will prove to her that I am everything she needs. I am able to make her life a dream. Every day I will adore her and show her how much I love her. That no one else is able to make her life better. I am hers!  After all, she loves me! And I love her!"  
He abruptly closed the diary, bent down to see your window better from the car. The lights in the bedroom are fainter, he knew well after hours or even days spent watching you, that this faint light is a small night lamp in the shape of a toadstool. 
When you talked to him, you never mentioned that you were afraid of the dark, but he knew it well, because whenever you were in the office together, you didn't go into the room until you turned on the light. He found it charming. Maybe you were afraid that this asshole would come back to you? Or you wanted the soft light to illuminate your perfect and most beautiful body when he would enter your bedroom. That's what he thought, imagining you in every pair of pyjamas he could think of. No matter what material, what cut, you'll look gorgeous. And you will definitely look more beautiful with his hands around your waist, your neck, your wrists, between your thighs. His hands are meant for your body. 
ℍe got out of the car and slowly looking down the streets, headed towards your front door. Standing in front of the beige door, he could feel his hands shaking, he had been to your house several times, you invited him and other employees for tea, and of course Wilbur was in your house without your knowledge. But he never broke in, after all, it will also be his home in the future,  'I'm just checking where what is so I don't get lost in the future.' is how he explained it to himself. But why was he so stressed out tonight? He had already seen you sleep several times. He pushed back the doormat with an asymmetrical pattern with his foot. A key with a red key ring showed itself to his eyes. 
Wilbur is intelligent and knew full well that you were leaving this key for him. There is no other logical reason for you to leave the key under the doormat in the twenty-first century. 
"Oh! What are you doing?" the brunet heard, he stood up abruptly, for a few seconds he lost control of his body as he stood up too quickly. He shook his head, "Mate!" the man took a few steps to see better who was at the door "Ah! Jared, that's you! I already thought it was a burglar! Good night Mate!" Wilbur watched as the man walked away. He opened his mouth and smiled strangely. "Me, I'm supposed to be the asshole !? I'm a hundred and one from him... NO! I'm so much better than him that it's impossible to tell! Jared. Jared... Fucking Jared!" he mumbled under his breath, eventually kicking the keys that were still lying on the ground. 
All fear from the fact that he was just about to enter the house turned to anger. Mashing his eyebrows, he looked at the red key ring. 
"Jared is just a problem. He made her sad. With me, she'll never be sad!" he said, violently taking the keys. He looked at them in his hand to turn them in the lock with a calm smile and step inside. 
𝕀mmediately the smell of you attacked him and gave him pleasure. He closed the door gently, putting the key back in place beforehand. He locked the door and began to pull off his shoes. Hearing no sound other than his own as he walked down the hall, he looked quickly into the living room, making sure you had cleaned up for him. Surely you know he's coming to see you tonight. 
Like he was running for his life, he quickly climbed the stairs to the floor. Surely, even with his eyes closed, he would have been able to make it to your bedroom. 
ℍe grabbed the door handle, feeling his hands instantly sweaty. He looked into the room to see if you were you were asleep. Looked around the room, which is illuminated by a lamp he knew well. Opening the door wider, he stepped inside, closing it carefully behind him. The summer night gave him the perfect opportunity to see your body, you were lying on your stomach in shorts with the duvet thrown to the ground. The fan in front of the bed moved the air and slightly your hair. 
He slightly bit his lip, looking at your buttocks, even without touching them is able to say that they are soft and firm like the softest pillow. He came closer, looking at you. 
"Do you know you're beautiful?" he asked himself, crouching in front of your face, kneeling down, looking at you as you breathe. He looked at the lamp and gently touched it, turning it off. Darkness has engulfed the room, leaving you in a room illuminated minimally by the light of the lantern, which get gently through the curtained windows. "You don't even know how much you need me." he said, taking off his summer jacket and putting it down on the armchair beside him. He unbuttoned his white shirt, continuing to look at your sleeping figure. 
He walked back to the bed when he noticed that you were trying to turn your back in your sleep. He jumped abruptly onto the bed, sitting astride your butt, preventing you from moving through your sleep. With that one move he didn't plan, he just wanted to keep looking at your body, he made him feel his heart beat faster. 
ℍolding his hands close to his chest, he bit his lip painfully, trying to stop himself from starting to touch you. Looking at your hair, your neck, your shoulders, your back, your waist, your hips, your bottom where it sits. Everything perfect. Everything in place and in perfect proportion. His perfect other half, who is not fully aware of how much they need him. He finished taking off his shirt and threw it on the floor without the same care as his jacket. 
He leaned in slightly slowly, bringing his chest closer to your back. Your warmth began to give him more pleasure than it should. The wind now blew perfectly against his back and your legs. He could already feel himself getting hard from the moment he entered the bedroom, but now as he sat on your butt, now as he touched your back with his slightly hairy chest, now as he could easily sniff your hair. Each inhale, each second was better than the last. 
He inhaled your scent and then carefully, lying down on top of you feeling his heart speed up, hiding his face in your neck. He felt your warmth, which he needed so much, he knew that you needed him. His heart beat faster and faster with every breath you took, as you moved closer to his chest with each inhalation.  
He leaned on his hands, looking at your back. His thoughts were focused on remembering every element he could. The moles, the scars, the discolouration of your skin. Everything he could, he must know everything about you. He brought his lips closer to your shoulder by placing a gentle kiss on your skin. Feeling a lack of resistance, he contoured. His hands wandered over your hips as the kisses he gave you traveled down your spine. So that when he reached the material of your shorts he stopped and looked at you and your sleeping figure once more. 
He sat on your thighs, looking at your veiled body. He placed his hands on your bottom, feeling how soft it was even through the material of your shorts. He slowly massaged you, gently as if he were kneading dough. Slow movements that slowly made the bulge on his trousers more visible than before. 
He got out of bed, pulling down his pants, staying in white socks. He leaned over you, slowly so as not to disturb your sleep, slipping off your shorts, which showed him how beautiful you are when you're not wearing anything. 
𝕃ying on top of your legs, he massaged your butt, being on the edge of his own control not to start eating you. He spread your legs so that they fit perfectly under his hands, now he could see your pussy perfectly. He swallowed his saliva, feeling his heart beating fast, feeling as if time had stopped. With his eyes wide open, he looked at you, took his hand off your buttock and gently touched your pussy. To take his hand abruptly after a while and look at his palm. Looking for a moment, he smiled, slowly with three fingers he ran from the end of the spine, through the tailbone, gently touched ass, to run them over your pussy with a little more pressure, and finally with his middle finger made a few circles on your clit. 
"Are you dreaming about me?" he asked, looking at his slightly damp fingers, "You're so cute." he added after a while, grabbing your ass again with two hands before moving close enough to start slowly riding his tongue over your entrance. 
He ran his hands from your buttocks to your thighs to get back to your buttocks. He could feel his nose touching your anus. He could feel how simultaneously sweet but somehow salty you were, in his mind you were perfectly balanced. Delicious, perfectly balanced between the sweet and the bitter. He stepped back to catch his air, breathing in, watching how wet you had become. The question that plagued him was 'did he make you like this' or perhaps you were already awake after all, and how well he treats you led you to this state. 
𝕀n fact, the answer was not important. What matters is that you don't protest, meaning you want him to continue. You want it, you don't even know how much you need it. How good he is for you. How much he loves you. How much he can do for you. 
ℍe looked at you, ran his fingers over you again, but stopped, come your entrance, with his other hand he reached down to his crotch, with two fingers he pressed lightly against you, at the same time slowly starting to pleasure himself. Very slowly, as if he was afraid that he would hurt you, he put his middle finger in you, which, compared to the rest of his body, felt how much you needed him. How wet, tight and throbbing you are. With his long finger he explored you, only to stop in one place other than the rest of you. He put on his second finger and slowly began to caress you from the inside. 
If you were lying on your back right now it would make it easier for him to caress your clit, but he knew well that he couldn't have it all at once. Feeling a shudder pass through him, he stopped his movements, pulled his fingers out, wet from caressing you, and smiled triumphantly. 
He was looking at you. The first time, since he met you, the first time since he began to approach you, the first time he stopped in his movements. Holding his dick, he looked like he was thinking through every scenario. 
He wrinkled his nose, staring at you, but he couldn't see anything to stop him. After all, you both want it. You invited him today, the fact that he was late, it was an accident. He didn't want to be late, and since you went to bed wearing only shorts, since you cleaned the house, it only means that you want this. That you invited him over to confess your love to him and, at the end of the day, start your relationship with very good sex, which you both wanted. 
Right?  
You moved under him to be in a more comfortable position. Comfortable for you and more comfortable for him, because now you are perfectly exposing your pussy for him. Just for him and only for him. 
He leaned over you, level with your entrance. With a slow motion, he entered you, gripping the sheets. "So tight. Warm. You're more pleasant than I imagined." He could feel his breathing speed up every second as he was in you, but he didn't move. He slowly pushed his hips to pull himself back, looked under him, watching his dick fit perfectly into you. With slow but more confident movements, he moved, squeezing the sheets harder every now and then. 
If he felt so good, that means you must feel just as good if not better. 
He put his right hand on your hip, as if catching his balance more, he sped up minimally. He looked at your profile, watching you wrinkle your nose slightly. When the two of you are at work, you usually wrinkle your nose like that when you feel uncomfortable. 
"Don't like it? You want me to speed it up. Forgive me, however, I'm doing it for the second time, in my life I'm.... heh. I know, I'll try." he led the monologue. 
He ran his hand over your thigh, gently moved it to have better and more comfortable access to you. Placing his hands between your hips, he held tighter, the sheet speeding up his movements. He could feel the sounds slowly, becoming slightly less distinct and tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. Immediately knowing that he was on the verge, he slowed down to come out of you, jerking off at the same speed at which he was entering you. 
ℍe closed his eyes and tilted his head, feeling the release, coming over your ass, breathing heavily. Even the fact that the fan was still running didn't help, as he felt as if his body was on fire. It was burning for more. And he knew very well that he was going to get more. 
He tried to normalize his breathing as much as possible, but the moment he entered you again did not help him. The warmth again, the warmth of you, it's so pleasurable he wanted to stay inside you for as long as possible. He knew you were his, he knew you wouldn't say 'no' to him. However, he knew that such behaviour was unhealthy. Sometimes you need to take a break. 
ℍowever, a break was not an option now. Not when he felt that he was once again getting close to coming. With quick movements, he pushed at you. He watched as his every move made your butt wavy, the mattress creak slightly. 
He looked at you, at your slightly open mouth "Now is it okay? Not too slow? I like it too. It's perfect." He froze in his movements and thoughts as you let out a quiet but perfect moan. Smiling as if he had won a prize, he immediately resumed his interrupted bluntness. Maintaining his bluntness, he felt the first drops of sweat appear on his forehead. 
He would like to speed up the fan now, but he does not want to stop the moment he is in. He does not want to let you down. He needs to make himself and you happy. He can't think about anything else right now. What is important now is you and him, him and you, no one and nothing else. 
The way he says your name is the simplest proof of how much he loves you. The way he tries, to touch you, without breaking the blunt, without disengaging, you is erotic. The increasing frequency of your silent moans gave him even more pleasure, he knew you must be enjoying it. 
Accelerating his movements he watched your every move, every breath. Trying to read you, breathing hard he rested his whole body on his right hand. His left hand slid under your belly to easily find your pussy. He leaned in more, but continued to penetrate you, at the same time attacking your clit. He could feel the heat starting to fill him again. As the blood began to sound in his ears. 
He slowed down in movements that became more aggressive than faster. To stop his movements after a few thrusts and pull his wet hand out from under you. 
"You don't even know how happy I am," he said, leaning over your ear. "Can I do it again? Please," he asked, looking at you, at the tears you had shed in your sleep. Saying your name, he ran his hand over your cheek, nodding. 
Still inside you, he sat up, watching as his dick hid inside you. Keeping his knees against your hips, again that night he leaned over you, catching your wrists, settling into a comfortable position to move again. With decidedly more slow movements than the previous ones he entered you. He felt as if he could hide all inside you, how good you were to him. With every movement he tried to prove to you how you needed him. How much he loves you. How much you need him. How good he is to you. How much you need him. How good he treats you. 
How much you need him.  
Because you need him don't you?  
A sharp blink and wide open eyes did not show this. As soon as he noticed that you had woken up, he sped up, trying to get as fast as possible. 
"𝕎hat the fuck!" you shouted, starting to wriggle your body. "Stop it!" You began to twist your head, trying to turn in some way. Returning to his previous position, he straightened his legs, still holding you, continuing his movements. 
Clenching your hands into fists, you tried to break out of this grip, from him. Who is he! Didn't you lock the door? Why is the light off? The tears that gathered in your eyes did not help you see your torturer. Again writhing, you screamed for him to stop. 
His movements became more and more sloppy, his breathing sped up. Grabbing you tighter, he turned you forcibly onto your backs. He easily held your wrists in one hand as he lifted your leg with the other, giving himself easier access to move inside you. 
"Wilbur!" you stated, more than asked, looking at the brunet with curly hair. Despite the low light, you could easily recognise him. Your view of him was completely shattered. A kind, hard-working, slightly secretive but good man is now causing you the most pain. "Stop it!" 
"Shh, it's okay darling. I'll be coming soon." he said between sighs. Looking at you, At your weeping eyes, he was smiling. That bastard was smiling. You opened your mouth slightly, trying to catch your breath. Shaking your head, you closed your eyes tightly, trying to stop the approaching feeling in any way possible. However, his fast and violent movements were not helping with that. 
Contracting both legs, you felt your muscles begin to shake on their own, his movements slowing as you felt his dick begin to pulsate inside you. Snorting your nose, not opening your eyes, you tried to wake yourself from this nightmare. . Feeling the man come out of you, you felt your legs fall inertly onto the mattress. Opening your tear-filled eyes slowly, you saw your co-worker move closer to you and lightly but passionately steal kisses from you. 
"I knew I was doing the right thing." he said, breaking the kiss. 
"What!" you growled, trying to straighten up, but Wilbur, being stronger than you, put his forearm around your neck, holding your body to the mattress. Catching your leg with his leg, he inserted his middle and ring finger into you. 
"You like it." he stated, forcing you to stay in bed. With your hands you pushed him away with all your might, despite the fact that he was touching you so well. Despite how pleasurable it was and how much inside you wanted to have such a moment with Wilbur, you now felt nothing but disgust for him.
Feeling a barrage of resistance from him, you put your hand to your mouth, biting your thumb, trying to stop the moans, and with the other you kept trying to push the man away despite the lack of results. 
"Stop it!" he said, slapping your clitoris lightly but nevertheless with discipline "You like that! You know it, so don't pretend!" he raised his voice. You don't know whether a shudder went through you from pleasure or from the fear that had been building up inside you since you woke up. 
𝕋ears streamed down your cheeks as pleasure turned into over-stimulation. Biting your hand harder you held back your words, your moans, your movements. You stared blurry-eyed at him, the headache making your whole body feel like it was pulsating. 
"You're beautiful." you heard, feeling your thighs clench again, trying to hold back the pleasure, feeling the cold sweat pour down your body. Why Wilbur? Why him? After all, he is incapable of saying an unkind thing about a person. So why is he hurting you. 
Feeling his head fall against your chest and his movements stop, you rested your hands on his shoulders to push him away. He raised his head and looked at you frantically, entwining his arms around your waist. 
" I love you. " he said, hugging you tighter.  
"You're a monster." you said, feeling the tears run down your face even more. 
"Maybe," he said, then raised his head. "But at least yours." You tried again to push him away. 
“You love me, no matter what I do.”  
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your-nanas-house · 3 months
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LOVE UR PAGE SMMM😭
if you feel like/have time would you be down to write something abt Jerome and a psychiatrist reader?
if you don't like the idea or anything just ignore this :))
AWWWW THANK YOU! for the compliments and the request. I really miss our Romie 🥺 he isn't as famous as he used to be lately. Our poor baby 😭 Sorry if it took me so long, dear.
Just a kiss for Christmas
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◇ Pairing: Jerome Valeska X psychiatrist!Reader
◇ Warnings: fluff, Jerome Valeska..we know how our lovely crazy ginger is, kiss, unexpected touch, flirting.
◇ Summary: Jerome is locked in Arkham but he still wants a Christmas gift.
◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. Credits to the owners of the pictures.
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Finally after the last patrol of the guards, two stopped in front of Jerome's cell who was waiting impatiently in front of his door, his hazel eyes carefully observing whoever passed in the corridor.
He was adorable, despite being a known and feared serial killer, with a childish but sadistic personality.
He really looked eager and excited that day, maybe for the upcoming festivity or the session he was about to have with his psychiatrist— a she psychiatrist, like Jerome kept pointing out at every patience there.
Miss Y/l/n, a young psychiatrist that was pretty good at her job, treating everyone with respect and professionalism even in a madhouse like that. 
In all his staying, the ginger never felt the want or need to see a doc there but everything was different with his Y/n. He was kind of smitten, to not say obsessed.
That's why he was so excited to go on Christmas Eve for a session with her, thus spending an hour alone in the room talking about himself while sneakily trying to hit on her, even though it never worked. But a man had his needs, hadn't he?
His pace was fast as he walked, carrying with him his diary, holding it tightly in his strong big hands till they  finally arrived at their destination.
The door slowly opened, allowing him to step in and sit innocently at the table, handcuffs still around his wrists and ankles— he looked like an innocent child in that moment, just waiting with a puppy face that broke as soon as Y/n moved closer to the table 
“Why are you acting like that, Jerome?” she asked, not managing to hold back her own smile while she sat down in front of him
“Nothing, doll…I mean Doc” he replied smoothly, a smirk slowly creeping on his scared face.
His gloved hands kept resting on the table, his eyes never leaving hers as he moved his fingers tapping the surface there.
.
After the session, which went pretty good, almost too good…Y/n took a moment to look at him for a couple of seconds, just staying in silence— just waiting for something to happen, to understand the reason for Jerome's weird behavior.
“So?” The beautiful psychiatrist asked, leaning closer to him, allowing her arms to rest on the table that way— her eyes still scanning his freckled face
“So what, Doc?” Jerome replied smugly, moving carefully his hands to search something in his pockets while she was still studying him
“What's on your mind, huh? Searching for another reward since you were such a good boy?” She asked in a soft but teasing voice.
Well, it was actually like that.
Jerome pulled quickly out what looked like a broken mistletoe and moved it between them as best he could, letting her hold it above their heads for him
“Been a good boy all week, doll. Lil'ol’ me isn't on ya naughty list this year” he murmured, smiling slowly with his scared lips, his smile big and almost scary for someone who wasn't used to it.
He received no response for a couple of minutes, his psychiatrist just kept watching him with a serious expression before finally cracking and nod
“You've been pretty good, yes…guess you really earned this Christmas gift, huh?” She murmured, mostly to herself before she leaned closer.
Jerome did the same as soon as she saw her lean in, he was still tied but he managed to connect their lips in a french kiss, slipping his tongue as best he could in her mouth to taste her— his handcuffed hands cupping her clothed breasts when she was focused on returning the forceful kiss.
“Jerome! Should have expected it…still a naughty man with a puppy tricky face” she joked softly, not really made at his childish antics.
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Taglist:
@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj @wife-of-magic-monkeys , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny, @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher, @sleepycreativewriter
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roosterforme · 1 year
Text
The Deployment Diaries Part 2 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: You and Bradley get a taste of that deployment life.
Warnings: Fluff, swearing, angst, adult banter
Length: 2300 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots! Check my masterlist for the reading order!
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You don't remember climbing back into your car or driving home. You don't remember unlocking the front door or taking your contacts out. But you must have, because now you were laying down in the middle of the huge bed, dry sobs still wracking your body. 
You couldn't seem to calm yourself down completely. And now it was very late. You'd stayed on that dock until you could no longer see the lights from the aircraft carrier out in the dark distance. You were one of the last people there, unwilling to rush back to this empty house. 
It was so quiet. You missed the noises Rooster would be making right now. You never realized he was always humming or singing something softly until he wasn't here. "This sucks," you muttered into the empty room. "Only six weeks to go."
You tossed your glasses onto the nightstand and rolled over onto your pillow. Something crunched underneath it, and you remembered Bradley told you he left you something else.
Without hesitation, you tossed your pillow onto the floor to see what he'd left for you. There was his tee shirt, and you instantly smashed it against your face. It still fucking smelled like him. You felt tears welling up in your eyes all over again. There was also a paper airplane and a small box. The paper airplane had your name written on it. You carefully unfolded it.
Happy Valentine's Day, Sweetheart. I wish we could be together today. I guarantee whenever you're reading this note, I'm either thinking about you or dreaming about you. I can't wait to see you again.
I love you, Roo
Now the tears were coming faster again. You hesitated with your hand on the small box. Should you wait until Valentine's Day to open it? That was more than two weeks away, and you knew you'd never make it that long. You carefully removed the lid, wiped away your tears and looked inside.
Bradley was perfect. Your boyfriend was the most perfect man who gave you the most perfect gifts. It blew your mind that someone like him could still occasionally doubt if he was good enough for you, if you had somehow settled for him. 
You pulled the gold chain from the box and examined the charms more closely. There were two of them: a small golden airplane and a small golden dog tag with Baby Girl inscribed into it. You squeezed them tight into the palm of your hand and let them really dig in as you cried. Then you promised yourself these would be your final tears for the day.
After you brushed your teeth and changed into his UVA shirt, you clasped the chain around your neck. You were never going to take it off. 
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Five days in and Bradley decidedly had a decent bunkmate. His name was Trent, and he was quiet, he didn't snore, and he hadn't invited anyone back to their quarters yet, so he would call that a win. He and Payback had been meeting up for most meals, since they were already spending a lot of time together in strategy meetings. 
"Wow, you must really miss your girl, man. You're hardly eating," Payback said while they were having lunch.
"This food tastes like shit compared to what she cooks at home," Bradley mumbled. "She makes this chicken and pasta that I would be happy to eat for every single meal for the rest of my life."
Payback shook his head. "Jesus, Rooster, just marry her already. You guys are both pathetic."
Bradley sighed. "I would if I thought she would go for it. It's too soon for her though, I'm almost certain."
"I don't know about that. She yelled at me once for being mean to you, if you recall."
Bradley smiled, "Yeah, I recall."
"Fuck, I wish I had a girl like that."
Bradley just grinned and forced down the rest of his lunch.
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You had to admit, the first few days were definitely the worst. You hadn't been able to sleep, and you couldn't stop thinking about Bradley being taken down behind enemy lines again. But now you felt like you had rounded a corner. 
You had been eating lunch with Cam and Maria every day, and they had been doing a great job of helping you keep your mind occupied. Maria liked her new roommate well enough, but she said she missed movie nights with you. So you planned on having her over to the house soon to hang out for an evening. Cam was seriously dating the financial planner, and you wanted to hear all of the juicy gossip that entailed. 
You knew you'd have to find other ways to stay busy, too. On your way home today, you were planning on stopping to buy paint samples to paint an accent wall in the living room. And you had signed up for some yoga classes to help keep yourself calm and centered.
You had reached the end of week one without Bradley, when you were sitting in your quiet office trying to finish working for the day. Your phone went off in your pocket, and when you saw it was an email notification, you almost put it away for later. Thankfully you checked it, because it was from Bradley.
can you facetime friday at 8:45 pm your time?
That was tomorrow night! You wrote one sentence back to him: FUCK YES I CAN!
You kept your phone out and told Phoenix you'd have to meet her at the Hard Deck a little later tomorrow, because Bradley would be calling you. She sent back the heart eyes emoji and you just laughed. This was the best you'd felt all week. 
Six weeks would be fine. It would be a breeze. You would have Bradley back with you soon enough. 
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Bradley couldn't wait to talk to you. Just a few more hours to go. He had been bored pretty much constantly so far. He'd seen absolutely no time in the air and Payback was his only friend onboard. To help combat the boredom and work off some of the weight he had gained from eating your homemade food all day every day, he was hitting the gym pretty hard. Might as well come back to you looking good.
As he wrapped up his second workout of the day, he turned off the playlist you'd made for him called This is what a gym playlist should sound like, Bradley, and removed his headphones. He stood and stretched his arms over his head, craving a hot shower.
"Hey, Rooster, I heard you were onboard," someone said next to him. He turned to see a woman in skimpy workout clothes who looked kind of familiar. "Do you remember me?" she asked coyly, taking a few steps closer. "Amaya?"
And then it clicked into place. He had hooked up with her maybe a year ago during a long deployment. "Hi," he managed to say, and he would have taken a step backward, except that the weight bench was currently preventing that. But once she ran her hand along his sweaty, tee shirt covered abs, he almost risked trying to jump backward over it regardless. 
"If you're interested, I could make some time for you. Maybe later tonight? My bunkmate works overnights," she whispered, and as she slid her hand up a few inches, Bradley caught it in his. He pulled her hand away from his body and gingerly walked around the bench.
"Uh, no thanks," he told her, releasing her hand once he had the bench press positioned between them. "Not this time."
"Seriously?" she asked, looking slightly offended now
"Seriously," he replied. "I have a girlfriend."
Amaya rolled her eyes. "Really? I didn't know you did that kind of thing. Besides, you know this doesn't count for you guys when you're deployed. Didn't you explain that to her? Nobody would have to know anyway." She was grinning and leaning across the bench, shrugging her tits together in her sports bra.
Bradley took a deep breath. God, he wished he could just disappear. "I'm in a serious relationship. In fact, I'm about to go facetime with her, if you'll excuse me." He nodded at her once, grabbed his headphones from the bench, and stalked to the locker room.
"What the fuck," he muttered, grabbing his shower stuff from his locker and slamming it shut. Now he was going to have to avoid Amaya for the next five weeks. Not because he was really tempted, but because he just did not want to have to deal with this shit. 
Suddenly he felt exhausted. And he knew if he let himself, he would start to doubt if he was really good enough for you. He was hoping to have a nice conversation with you, but now he felt a little off. The hot shower helped him some, and he stayed in there for a while, letting the heat soothe his shoulders. 
Once he was dressed and made sure he looked okay, he headed for the quiet area where he would be able to grab an ipad and get on facetime with you. He could hear some others talking with their families, and now he couldn't wait to hear your voice. While he waited in line, he took his phone out and thumbed through the photos you'd sent him. Fuck. He'd definitely made the right decision giving Amaya the full brush-off. There was just no comparison. 
"Bradshaw," a crew member called, and Bradley strode to one of the empty seats and entered your phone number into the ipad. Your face appeared almost instantly. 
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The amount of time you had spent getting ready to talk to Bradley should have been embarrassing. He already knew what you looked like first thing in the morning. Hell, half the time you woke up drooling on him, and he'd definitely watched you floss your teeth before. 
But shit, you missed him so much, and you wanted to make sure he was missing you. You changed your shirt five times before settling on a low cut red one. You were applying a little bit of matching lipstick when you checked the time. You grabbed your phone and sat impatiently at the kitchen island. It was 8:48 and you thought you might pass out if he didn't call soon. You started chewing on your nails when your phone rang. You slammed your finger against the screen when it said Restricted Caller and smiled brightly.
"Bradley!" 
He looked so handsome, you could have melted off of the stool. 
"Baby Girl," he said, smiling at you and shaking his head. "I miss you."
"I miss you so much! Tell me about the carrier. What have you been up to? How's Payback?"
He gave you a quick rundown of his training schedule and let you know Payback was doing fine. He also told you he'd been going to the gym a ton to try and stay busy. Then you watched as Bradley's gaze drifted toward your cleavage, and his smile grew. "You're wearing your necklace."
"Of course I am!" you replied as you wrapped your hand around the little charms that you had already gotten used to feeling against your skin. "Best Valentine's Day gift ever. I hope you don't mind that I already opened it."
"I was hoping you would. God, you look so pretty, Baby Girl. I think about you all the damn time."
You smiled coyly, actually blushing as you asked him, "Have you been using those photos I sent you?"
He nodded, smirking and licking his lips. "Every fucking day."
You giggled and bit your lip. "Your bunkmate cool with you constantly jerking off? Oh, maybe I shouldn't say that! These calls are probably recorded, right?"
Bradley laughed loudly as your eyes went wide. "Yeah, they are recorded, Sweetheart. But I'm pretty sure me telling you that I jerk off to a photo of you is not actually a matter of national security." You giggled a little more and he lowered his voice before adding, "So I'm going to go ahead and tell you, that photo of you in my shirt with your tits on display? Fuck...." He bit his knuckle and you laughed in delight. 
"You can have the real thing in exactly 34 days. I have a countdown in my phone. My next period will be over by then too, so we can do it all over the entire house. Maybe I'll take a day off work, Roo. Sound good?"
He groaned and tipped his head back. "I can't fucking wait."
The sight of his Adam's apple straining against his thick neck as he swallowed had you squeezing your thighs together. When he looked at you again, he could definitely tell exactly what you were thinking about.
"You doing okay without me?" he rasped. You knew what he meant. He wanted to know how you were taking care of yourself in bed. You decided to make it a fun update for him.
"Nothing is as much fun without you. My fingers aren't as big as yours, and my toys aren't as creative as you."
His smirk was so sexy, you actually took a screenshot of him. "I fucking love you."
"I love you too, Roo," you whispered, really turned on by this point.
"Shit, I just got my one minute warning. I think next week I can call you, but I'm not sure when I'll have access to facetime again." He looked disappointed, searching your face like he was memorizing it.
"Call me whenever you can. You can wake me up in the middle of the night, I don't care. And I've been keeping my ringer on at work."
Bradley smiled and said, "Be good, Sweetheart. I'll talk to you again soon."
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Thanks for reading along with this series! I hope you're enjoying it!!
Check out part 3
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