#god its such a relief to not have to hold my tongue now

[ethereal-mists]

There's this one guy in one of my friend groups that's always calling people names 'as a joke', despite being told several times to stop, and is just generally not a great person. The other people we're friends with are too kindhearted to kick him out, so he just gets away with it and it pisses me off.

BUT

I recently figured out a way to sort of deal with him

He called my friend a bitch, and she was very Not Happy about it, but has given up trying to stop him. So when she went quiet, I added, 'And a boss'. Asshole guy said, "No, just a bitch". So I said, "A bitch and a boss, and she shines like gloss, what's not clicking?"

And he kept insisting "She's a bitch" and every time he did, I finished it with those dojacat lyrics and he got increasingly more frustrated until he left the call. Guess who stopped calling people bitches since?

#after he left we actually talked about trying to deal with him so im hoping this time it works #we've had so many interventions with this guy over the course of YEARS #he doesnt have any other friends #hes very much the kind of person who goes for people who are too sweet to stand up for themselves #and these friends are too nice to try and kick him out of the friendgroup because 'we're all he has' #not saying this is their fault at all! it just kills me that theyre so nice to him and he pulls this crap #but yeah. after he left we talked and i basically said im done watching him treat them like this #if he starts being an ass i will call him out. I will get in his face about it #i was a bit worried theyd be upset with me for being confrontational but they said they were fine/happy with it #and then we talked about ways to gently get him out of the group #theyre taking the reins on the planning for that im basically just security at this point #like if hes in call starting shit they'll message me to hop in. if he does something when im around now i fully call him out #hes starting to act nicer when i join #god its such a relief to not have to hold my tongue now #people who are sweet and sensitive are incredible and people who take advantage of that make me so mad #'maybe they shouldnt be so sensitive' maybe you shouldnt be an asshole how bout that?

[draconic-desire]

Ad Experimentum

Yandere Dr. Ratio x Reader

Veritas catches you reading one of your dirty books.

Warnings: Implied kidnapping, forced imprisonment, NSFW scenes being read aloud, Dr. Ratio being a dick as always

Within the confines of Veritas’s home, you feel like a mouse in a maze, reduced to a caged animal, always under scrutiny and experimentation.

Escape is impossible. Dr. Ratio has ensured that you’re never out of his reach, even though he acts as if you are the burden and he didn’t kidnap you and imprison you in his home. Sometimes you wonder why he even keeps you; surely he has better things to do than to quip at your inadequacy or lack of genius. But alas, the pretentious prick seems keen on pushing every one of your buttons to see how you tick. You might even call it intimacy if he wasn’t so clinical and judgmental about it all.

Because physical escape is impossible, you’ve turned to escaping within the confines of your own mind.

Books provided the perfect retreat. You’ve since abandoned any non-fiction to focus on fantasy, to worlds that effortlessly whisk you away. Novels that depict true, romantic love, not the twisted ownership you’ve grown used to. Like you’re some pet to be controlled and prodded at, like Pavlov’s dog, waiting and drooling for its master’s hand at the ring of a bell.

So, in your hopes to feel something real, you’ve started to delve into stories that are a bit…spicier.

With the latest read in your hand, your eyes skim hungrily over the pages as the tension between the protagonists builds. The lovers begin to undress each other, the one spreading his partner’s pussy as she grinds into his hand—

Veritas effortlessly plucks the book from your hands, earning a cry of protest. You try to snatch it back, but, with the help of his towering height, he dangles it just out of reach. “What in the heavens is this?”

The way he holds the book between his thumb and pointer finger, as if merely touching it would taint his self-proclaimed perfect set of knowledge, was almost comedic. You would laugh if he wasn’t such a condescending asshole.

Instead, you scowl. “Give it back.”

He merely hums and turns the novel in his hands, inspecting the cover. Licking his thumb, he flips to your bookmarked page and begins reading aloud. “My hand caressed her core as I speared her with two, thick fingers. She moaned and arched into my palm in response, causing my cock to twitch in anticipation. God, I wanted to taste her arousal. Her pussy was perfect, so wet and tight and ready for me to claim, to fuck.”

Embarrassment rages across your cheeks like a burn. You fling yourself at him, pounding your fists against his chest when he lifts the book out of your reach easily. “Stop, just stop.”

Amused, Dr. Ratio continues to narrate the scene in painstaking detail. “I lowered my head, letting my tongue swirl around her clit and rendering her voice to nothing but pitiful mewls. She tasted like heaven, like my own personal feast. I buried my tongue in her, then, and held her hips as she bucked into my mouth, begging for release—”

“I will do anything,” you beg, face in your palms, “just please stop.”

Finally, mercifully, Veritas closes the book and lowers it down enough for you to snatch it back. You cradle it against your chest, heart pounding and palms sweaty with a chaotic blend of shame, anger, and relief that it was over.

“This is what you indulge in while I’m working? Though you are hardly an intellectual exception, I believed you to be above this brain-rotting nonsense, (Y/n).”

In spite of your embarrassment, you boldly meet his golden eyes. “And what do you care? I enjoy it, and it’s not meant for you. Go stick your nose in a dictionary for all I care.”

“At least I’d be learning something,” he sneers in return, looking down his nose at you. He sniffs, tilting his chin up. “What do those books have that I can’t offer you?”

You still, observing his features. Now that the fun of teasing you has worn off, his eyes flare with loathing. With a jolt, you realize it is not aimed at you but at…the book?

Wordlessly, you glance between Dr. Ratio and your novel. Then, a stilted laugh escapes your lips. “Wait.. Are you seriously jealous of a book?”

“Don’t be preposterous,” he scoffs, though you notice his white-knuckled grip against the back of the armchair you were previously lounging in. “I would never stoop so low as to associate myself with that plebeian filth. I simply wanted to ascertain your reaction to it being read aloud.”

You resist the desperate urge to roll your eyes. “Fine, then. Please leave me to my uneducated filth.” You spin around, intent on finding a new place to finish your reading.

“Not so fast.” Veritas is on you quicker than a cobra, large hands gripping both your shoulders. “Perhaps all is not lost. We may yet transform this circumstance into an educational opportunity for you.”

A chill runs down your spine at the heavy touch, and a sudden sense of foreboding warns you to run. You’re all too aware you’re the mouse being fed to the snake in this moment.

Veritas spins you to face him, eyes slowly trailing down your form, as if taking you in with a new perspective. “I believe an experiment is due.”

You go rigid. “I’m sorry?”

“If you’re so intent on reading about all those fantasies in your books, let’s go ahead and put them to the test, shall we?”

At his clear implication, you yelp and make a run for it. In that moment Veritas strikes, fisting your hair with one hand and cupping your chin with the other as he presses your body flush against his own. You can already feel his hard desire digging into your back.

“Here’s my hypothesis,” he purrs in your ear. “I predict that by the end of tonight, you too will be begging for my cum, whether you want to or not.”

His theory, as always, was proven to be correct.

#yandere dr ratio #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr #yandere #honaki star rail #hsr dr ratio #hsr drabbles #dr ratio #dr ratio x reader #veritas ratio #hsr veritas #veritas x reader #yandere veritas ratio

[purinfelix]

Hello! I love your writing 💕 can i request something fluff with gavi?

post-match routine ˙✧˖°

pairing: gavi x reader (established relationship) summary: your plans for post-match cuddles with your boyfriend are interrupted when he debuts a new haircut at a game warnings: none - just fluff !! w/c: 988

a/n: thank you sm for the rq and kind words anon!! <33 i had an idea to write smth like this a while ago (when gavi first cut his hair lol) but i'm missing him a lot now so :"") here it is - consider it a love letter to his long and fluffy hair

The jingle of keys echoing through your empty apartment alerted you of your boyfriend’s arrival home after a match. You craned your neck from your spot on the couch, where you had made yourself comfortable to doom scroll on your phone. Due to an overload of work you had had to miss this game, but had just been catching up on its events after finally muscling your way through your workload. The boys had won, of course, but there was something else that had caught your eye when looking through match highlights  - your boyfriend’s hair. 

You almost didn’t believe it when you saw the clips of him walking out from the locker room, seeing how short he had cut his hair almost sent you spiralling. Obviously, you would still love him nonetheless, but his fluffy hair had always been one of your favourite things about him. And now, it was just so short. And you may or may not have taken to your various social media platforms to express your disdain for it, which you may or may not have overexaggerated for the sake of humouring his fans. 

As you heard the door swing open though, you tossed your phone aside to focus your attention solely on the heaving mass that was your boyfriend as he staggered in. He really looked like hell, and you weren’t just talking about his new haircut, you would choose to bite your tongue on that for now. After an intense match, without having been subbed off once, he stood there sweaty, visibly aching with a pained expression. 

“Hello baby,” you coo smoothly, watching as the bags he was only just holding onto fell to the ground around him. Usually after long matches, espeically one’s you couldn’t attend, Gavi would come home and collapse into your arms. It was his way of ‘recharging’ before getting cleaned up. 

But today was different. He simply stood there, swaying side to side - although you were sure this was more a result of the unstoppable force of fatigue than any actual deliberate choice of his. There was one feature though that told you all you needed to know - a familiar pout spread across his face as he looked down at his own feet. 

“You really hate my hair that much?” His tone was quiet, his voice nothing more than a small, meagre ask. He must’ve seen your tweets, and your story, and maybe the few messages you had sent to him in the blind flurry that had followed first seeing his hair. You almost felt bad, hearing how guilty he sounded and it took everything within you not to give into your cuteness aggression and smother him right there and then. 

“No,” you let out a soft laugh, “I was only kidding,” 

“But, your tweets … and your stories …” he began, sounding so upset you couldn’t help but interrupt him. 

“It’s not my favourite of your looks, but I still love you, hm?” 

“Oh, thank god …” Gavi let out weakly, followed by a sigh of relief as if he had been waiting an eternity just to hear those words. Finally he managed to stagger over to where you were, albeit unsteadily, before collapsing onto you. 

You let out a soft exclamation at the feeling of your boyfriend’s entire body weight pressing down on you, a feeling you had come to not only find familiar but also a great deal of comfort in. He was sticky with sweat and his body radiated a heat you could only barely stand. But despite this he was still your boyfriend, your Gavi, and so you did the only thing you knew to do - wrap your arms around him and pull him closer. 

He let out a croak of thanks at this, shifting into a more comfortable position with his head turned to the side as he offered you a weak smile. 

“You played well today,” you mumble endearingly. 

“You say that every game,” he was quick to respond, even through the fatigue his attitude was strong. 

“Not my fault you play well every game,” you shot back even quicker, fingers coming up to delicately brush away the stray strands of hair stuck to his forehead. You let your fingers dance across his face, his cheeks, his eyebrows, each touch softer than the last. He only let out a hum in response, closing his eyes at the feeling he’d come to love far more than he’d ever admit. 

You two sit in silence for a while, and you had thought your boyfriend had drifted off to sleep on your chest as it would’ve been far from the first time he had. Rather though, he had just been listening in silence to your heartbeat, ear pressed to your chest, rising with each breath. Suddenly, the silence was broken by his soft voice coming once more. 

“Do you really think Pedri’s hair is nicer than mine?” You weren’t even looking but you could tell these words were coming from pouted lips. He must’ve been making reference to one of the throwaway tweets you had made about his haircut, because you could barely remember now. 

“Maybe,” you start, but as you watch his eyebrows furrow you’re quick to change your answer, accompanied by a laugh, “No, of course not.” 

At this, Gavi smiled, letting out a soft laugh of his own - music to your ears. He used what was left of his diminishing energy to take your hand, which up until now had been softly stroking his nape, and press it languidly to his lips. It was about as much affection as he could show in his tired state and you knew that all too well as you gazed down at him fondly. 

“You’ll be the death of me someday,” was the last thing he confessed, barely above a whisper but loud enough that you caught it, before drifting off to sleep.

#pablo gavi #gavi #gavi x reader #gavi x you #gavi fluff #fc barcelona #football #football fanfic #fanfic #purinfelix #jet writes ★ #jet answers ✧

[xiaosonlybeloved]

First Words~ Gojo Satoru

featuring:- Gojo Satoru, fem!reader, Megumi, Tsumiki, [d/n] is your daughter's name tags:- fluff, reader has a child with Gojo, Megumi and Tsumiki are still kids and live with them, reader is called mama a/n:- oh my god people writing this killed me how do yall write fluff T.T the next fic i write is gonna be hardcore angst as compensation dudhsufi, also my first time writing fluff and jjk hope u like it :)

wc:- 1.1k

masterlists

“Excuse me, sorry to bother you, but have you seen a white-haired man with a small kid anywhere?” You frantically asked the nearest shop employee. You had turned your back on your husband for just a few minutes, which had apparently been enough for him to disappear somewhere into the large supermarket, with your child. Thank the gods atleast Megumi and Tsumiki had the good sense to not follow him. Unfortunately, neither of them had caught Satoru disappearing. 

You tightly held Megumi’s hand to ensure that you two wouldn’t be separated, keeping your eyes peeled for the albino male. Tsumiki, being a little older than him, had decided to independently search for Satoru, both of you agreeing to return to the billing counter once you’d found him. “I swear, when I find him, he’s gonna have it from me.” You muttered under your breath as you hurried with Megumi through the endless rows in the supermarket. 

And voila, where do you finally find him? In one of the multiple rows of the sweets and deserts section, one hand carefully balancing your child and keeping her from grabbing at the chocolates, while he stocked the cart with packets of chocolates, in addition to the pile of donut packets and sweets and what not. You narrow your eyes as you leave Megumi’s hand and angrily stomp towards him, causing him to freeze as if he’s been caught red-handed -which he had been. He hadn’t even finished the humongous stock at home, and he was buying more! At this rate, he deserved to develop diabetes with his crazy sweet tooth.

Satoru nervously grins at you as you narrow your eyes at him. “Oh, darling, there you are-” “Cut the crap, Gojo Satoru. You had me searching for over 15 minutes, do you know that? You weren’t even answering your phone, the sheer audacity. We are outside right now, so I won’t make a scene, but you damn better be prepared when we get home.” You shift your attention from your husband to your daughter, whose eyes had lit up on seeing you and was grabbing at you with her chubby fingers, almost falling out of Satoru’s arms. You let out a sigh of relief as you take her into your arms, giving her a kiss on her forehead, which made her giggle and laugh as she started babbling, attempting to say ‘Mama’. It was always so adorable to see her say gibberish- she was starting to speak these days, much to your and Satoru’s elation. From beside you, Megumi gently held her hand, and she closed her fist tightly around his finger. You gently bend down a bit so that Megumi can squish [d/n]’s cheeks and she can grab his spiky hair with her other hand as both you and Satoru chuckled. 

“Gu.. Gu..Mi… Gumi!” Your daughter suddenly exclaims after many attempts, using the nickname you two had given Megumi. All three of you freeze, amidst [d/n]’s babbling of “Gumi! Gumi!” Satoru is the first one to break out laughing as he throws an arm around Megumi, saying with a grin, “Well, would ya look at that? Her first word isn’t Mama or Papa, its you! Man, I’m a bit jealous, but oh well.” Megumi looks stunned as she sticks out her tongue at him, something she recently learned from Satoru. But slowly, a soft smile spreads across his face as he hesitantly reaches his arms out, asking you if he could hold her. You readily give him his little sister as she starts laughing once again, grabbing two fistfuls of his hair. He doesn’t seem affected as he gently plays with her a bit.

Just then, Tsumiki comes running in. “I see you found him!” She exclaims between pants. “What did I miss?” Satoru happily tells her what happened as [d/n] again shifts her attention from Megumi to you, reaching out for you again. He quickly hands her over to you, satisfied, and she snuggles into your shoulder, mumbling her second word- Mama, as you grin and play with her hair affectionately. Satoru excitedly hurries behind you to see his adorable little daughter’s face, but all she does is frown at him for ‘disturbing her time with her mom’. She turns her face away, burying it into your neck, when Satoru tries to get a reaction out of her by poking and pinching her cheeks. “Cmon, sweets, just say my name once? Just once?” He tried to prod at her, and she glared at him, or well… tried to- she just looked adorable as ever with a baby scowl. Tsumiki giggled at his relentless attempts, finally pulling him away from his daughter with a scolding of “Stop annoying her!” Then she walks up to you for her turn of holding [d/n], welcomingly holding her arms out for her. [d/n] stares at her for a bit, before agreeing, as if deciding that she wasnt likely to annoy her. All four of you ignore Satoru’s gasp of utter betrayal. 

“My own family doesn’t stand by me anymore.” He wept dramatically in the middle of the supermarket as the four of you grin and play with [d/n], who finally says her third word- ‘Miki’. (Store employees and other people give you weird looks but ignore you.) You’re surprised at how quickly she’s learning- probably something she inherited from her dad. Ironically, her dad’s name is the only name she hasn’t spoken yet. 

She quietens down after a while, causing the three of you to look at her in puzzlement. “I guess she’s tired by now.” You hummed as she started reaching out of Tsumiki’s arms again, but towards her dad. He immediately grabs the opportunity, quickly taking [d/n] into his arms. She rests her head on his shoulder, as if she was about to fall asleep, and you all look at your little bundle of joy with a soft smile.

Just before she starts snoring, she mumbles another word, the last one before she falls asleep- ‘Papa’. A warm grin spreads across your husband’s face, as he first looks at his daughter, then at his family- all of whom are smiling happily at him too. 

Luckily for him, the scolding you were supposed to give him at home slipped your mind amongst all the excitement in the supermarket. After all, you do love him and the rest of your family with all your heart, so you suppose you can forgive his childish antics this once. (And many more times in the future too.)

requests are open, and darn it i have no idea how to write fluff aaa. reblogs, tags and comments are very much appreciated , thanks for reading :)

#skylia's works #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x reader fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #gojo fluff #jjk gojo

[wileys-russo]

lessi as the godmother!!!! 🥹🥹🥹 no rush but please may you write a mini pt 2 where reader has given birth and less meets the baby for the first time<33

sequel to this and part of the a date to remember universe series

godmother II m.earps

"lets fucking go baby!" you yelled at the tv, clapping your hands happily as your wife saved another attempt on goal. it was mid WSL season and since you were so far along now at your doctors advice your wife had promptly banned you from leaving the house for anything not completely necessary, like appointments or your pre-natal classes.

you'd been trying to argue for the last few weeks that to you watching mary play was necessary, but she would just shut you up with a kiss and a firm shake of her head, ending any chance of an argument right there and then.

your wife had always been protective of you by nature throughout the entire time you'd known her, however given you were now pregnant she had become over protective. which meant you found yourself regularly having to bite your tongue not to tear her head off with how she fussed over you.

thats not to say you hadn't snapped.

pregnancy hormones were no joke and some days your wife found herself walking on eggshells, cautious that one wrong word or action would cause you to tip over the edge, your volatile moods becoming incredibly unpredictable.

though she knew it wasn't your fault and more often than not the moment you'd finished yelling you'd burst into tears and apologize, your wife assuring you over and over with soft and loving kisses that she wasn't mad and she understood it was out of your control.

but despite how much mary over worried, she was also your saving grace.

if it was holding up your stomach to allow your back a few brief moments of reprise from its dragging weight, rubbing your very swollen feet, massaging your back and shoulders, putting up with your mood swings, going to the shops at all hours of the day and night to satisfy every little pregnancy craving, if there was any way at all she could make your life easier in any possible way, she was there in an instant, and you adored her for it.

"get in tooney!" you yelled with a cheer, struggling to your feet and pumping your first in the air as the girl scored the equaliser in their match against liverpool, watching with a proud smile as she celebrated with the team, alessia the first one to pull her up and into a tight bear hug.

you heard a strange sound and grabbed at your stomach as a wave of pain suddenly rolled through you. "oh fuck. not now, please not now!" you begged, looking up at the ceiling with your eyes squeezed closed, in denial of what you know you had just heard.

sure enough looking down there was a large wet patch on the carpet and you groaned as another wave of pain rocked your body. sitting down and taking a deep breath you grabbed your phone, hands shaking as you unlocked it and flicked through your contacts to your mother in law.

"hi julie! um no everything is fine...but i think my waters just broke?"

~

"i'm here! i'm here! i'm here! no one panic!" you breathed out a sigh of relief as the door to your room smacked open and mary stumbled inside, still clad in her keepers kit, face blotchy and red as she squatted down, baby hairs clinging to her forehead which was matted in sweat.

"give me a minute babe oh my god that elevator was taking ages so i ran up like six flights of stairs. jesus!" mary puffed out as she struggled to catch her breath, bent over with her hands on her knees.

"you missed the birth mary." you stated quietly, the woman almost falling to her feet at the news, eyes as wide as saucers. "what!? why the fuck did no one call me?" your wife spat angrily, beginning to pace around at the foot of your bed.

"nah only joking. we've taught her well babe she waited for her mum to finish her game before arriving!" your face broke out into a grin, the colour returning to marys as she collapsed into the seat beside your bed, pincing the bridge of her nose.

"i swear on my life woman if you weren't pregnant i'd punch you." "excuse me darling which one of us in labor right now?"

"right! sorry my love. how are you? how far apart are the contractions? whats the pain one to ten? have you seen a doctor? is there a nurse nearby? have-"

"mary baby breathe!" you laughed, struggling up and gently grabbing her face, your thumbs stroking her jaw affectionately.

"i'm okay, just uncomfortable. its hard to explain but everything just feels really tight and sore? its still early stages, the contractions are about nine minutes apart when they timed them. they said my water broke prematurely which though rare does happen and doesn't mean theres any complications before your mind goes there." you explained as your wife placed her hands over yours, bringing them to her mouth and tenderly kissing the tips of your fingers with a nod.

"the doctors not been in yet and he won't until the contractions are closer together, but the midwives have been great. they should come back around in a few minutes actually so you can talk their ear off with your questions then. your mum just popped out to call my mum, she and my dad are getting on the first flight they can." you continued, smiling and giving your a little nod to show you were finished.

"thank god she picked up when you called. baby i told you i shouldn't have played today, what if no one was there to bring you to hospital!" mary sighed with a frustrated shake of her head, resting her chin on your intertwined hands, you almost having to lock her out of the house in order for her to leave this morning.

"then i'd have called an ambulance my love. you did play, and from what i hear you won so im glad that you did. i got here safely, you got here in time, everything worked out best as it could have. so stop being stroppy!" you smiled, gently pulling away your hands and teasingly flicking her ear before settling back into the hospital bed.

"i'm not bein stroppy!" "your moody little pout says very differently." "i'm not! i just love you and our daughter very very much and i worry about you both, you know that." "i know love, but you know at your age you have to be careful about worrying so much, you'll get grey hairs." "i'm hardly two years older than you are!" "I know you're ancient, should be criogenically frozen in a football museum somewhere." "baby i pray every day she doesn't inherit your sense of humour, i don't think i could handle two of you it would drive me to insanity." "mary!"

~

"sit love! i'll get it." your wife remanded as the doorbell rang, rolling your eyes with a small smile as you sat back down, hearing her footsteps hurry off toward the door.

"where is she? where's my little niece? her favourite aunty is here!" "you wish you were her favourite tooney, she won't even pay you a second glance once she see's her godmother is here!" "she's one month old she won't care about either of you, and she's finally been sleeping for more than twenty minutes so shut up, the pair of you!"

you heard the girls before you saw them, hearing mary harshly shush them and a loud smack echo out where she'd clearly whacked one of them, ella whining as she entered the room.

"muuum she hit me!" the midfielder pouted in your direction as you chuckled and opened your arms, the younger girl collapsing into them as you wrapped her in a hug. "stop hitting the kids babe!" you teased your wife, alessia lifting your arm and tucking herself into your other side.

"i'm too young to have three kids." the woman mumbled, rubbing at her temples with an overdramatic sigh. "aw great now she's disowned us!" ella continued sending you a cheeky grin. "baby thats not very nice, say sorry to the girls. you know you love them!" you wound up your wife who shook her head, biting back a smile.

"i am going to check on our actual daughter." mary announced with a roll of her eyes, disappearing out of the room. "i love you babe!" you sung out after her with a smile, hearing her grumble as her footsteps faded away.

"so how are you feeling? we've missed you!" alessia asked as ella nodded eagerly, the two of them not moving from where the three of you were wrapped up together in a hug. "yeah mary runs a tight ship! told us we wasn't even allowed to facetime you until she said so." ella pouted with a huff as you ruffled her hair.

"i feel heavy, tired, fat. i haven't slept properly since she arrived, the bags under my eyes have bags, and i think this is the only jumper i currently own which doesn't have sick or some sort of bodily fluid on it." you paused to chuckle and look down at the faded red material covering your body.

"but she's also the best thing that has ever happened to me. i love her so much i would die for her in an instant, her tiny little fingers and toes and her squishy little cheeks man. she's got me and mary by the throat!" you teared up, overwhelmed by the love you felt for your daughter as both girls either side of you aweed and hugged you tighter.

"speaking of, look who just woke up." ella and alessia's heads whipped behind them with wide eyes as mary returned, gently cradling your new born daughter in her arms. "oh my god she's tiny." alessia whispered with a small squeal of excitement, marys face melting into a soft smile seeing the obvious excitement from the two girls.

"do you both want a hold?" your wife offered, eyes flickering toward you as you nodded encouragingly, knowing how much it worried her to have anyone that wasn't the two of you to do so, but you were working through it together.

"shit but how do you do that? don't they have like no bones? and their heads are soft like jelly? their skulls are like-" ella began to panic, rubbing her palms on her shorts. "language around the baby el!" you warned, shoving her shoulder as she hastily apologized.

"yes they are very fragile, but if you want to hold her i'll show you how." you smiled reassuringly, watching the cogs turn in her head. "less can go first!" she decided as you glanced to the blonde on your other side who was busy staring adoringly at the little bundle of limbs in your wifes arms.

"less?" "hm?" "do you want to have a hold?" "oh yes please."

"okay, sit back and get comfortable." you ordered softly as you stood and mary carefully handed you your daughter, pressing a kiss to your cheek and tenderly stroking your daughters hand with her thumb.

"are you okay? its fine if you need some time, they say it normally takes around five minutes to be properly comfortable with holding a newborn baby." mary checked in with the younger blonde who nodded that she was ready.

"so the most important thing is to support the head and the neck." mary started to explain, taking a seat beside alessia who nodded, following her every word. "so very carefully take her-" mary continued as you gently handed over the baby to the striker.

"breathe less." you chuckled as she exhaled shakily, almost trembling as she very gently took your daughter from you, mary shuffling closer to help her adjust.

"so you want her stomach to always be angled toward you, and her back will rest on your forearm. then you'll support her head in the crook of your elbow and your hand can rest there-" mary gently moved alessias arm as ella watched on in awe.

"-and now you're holding her less." mary smiled proudly, squeezing her shoulder and shuffling back a bit as alessia looked up at you in shock. "wow!" ella breathed out in shock. "you're a natural less." the girl complimented as alessias eyes dropped back down to the newborn cradled in her arms.

"this is so weird, like im holding a whole human right now." "yeah its a bit overwhelming at first but you're doing great less."

"hi gorgeous i'm alessia. i'm your godmum but you can just call me aunty lessi!" the blonde smiled as you sat down on marys lap, feeling her arms wrap securely around you as she pressed a tender kiss to your shoulder before resting her chin there, both of you watching on fondly as ella began to interact with your daughter who was tucked up securely in alessia's hold.

"have you accepted we've got three daughters now?" you quietly murmured to your wife with a teasing smile, pecking her lips and feeling her body vibrate under yours with a soft chuckle.

"yeah, i think i have."

#woso x reader #mary earps x reader #mary earps #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo #ella toone #ella toone x reader #woso #woso imagine #engwnt #woso blurbs #woso fanfics

[heartfullofleeches]

Dea [Worshipper God] comforting an upset Darling before Bed

Word Count: 1.2k. Commission 2/2. 

Warnings: None besides some mild hurt/comfort. Pure fluff 

No Pronouns for Reader. He/she/they used for Dea

-

“Penny for your thoughts, my grace?”

The slackness of your shoulders. Vacancy in your gaze. The incurious disposition to their cheerful greeting. All signs your vigilant adorer searches for upon being blessed with your return. As your most faithful and presumably sole devotee, Dea is forbearing to your woes - granting you time to settle in and breathe before airing their concerns.

A short walk to the couch with your hand in theirs, not another word spoken as the deity cautiously directs their touch to your shoulders - ushering you to the sanctity of the cushions. They proceed by relieving you of some of your burdens - peeling the damp coat from your arms and draping it over their right. As if this day couldn't get any worse for you, the beginnings of a storm had caught up to you right before you made it through the door. Dea knew they should have been more persistent when encouraging you to carry an umbrella with you, but the selfish part of them knew it'd serve to hasten your journey home. 

Thankfully, aside from your jacket and hair, the rest of you was almost entirely dry. The deity excuses themselves to carry your coat elsewhere - returning seconds later with a towel in hand. Warmth radiates from the cloth as it's delicately placed atop your wet scalp. Only when her ears catch that awaited sigh of relief passing through your tight lips does their question reach you. 

“Sure…”

It's pained - debilitated. There's that familiar, heart-rending sting swelling behind their eyes at the utter defeat in your voice. How he longed for the tears obscuring their vision to be sobs of joy… No- they mustn't cry when you are the one in turmoil. Dea waves a hand over their eyes, conjuring a small coin from their robes with the scant turn of their wrist. Taking your palm in theirs once more, the deity firmly places it in its center - closing your fingers around the offering with a tender kiss to the backs of your knuckles. 

Upon first glance, it's simple to tell it's no ordinary penny. For one, it was significantly larger than one of typical size. Gold plated as an alternative to the common copper tinge. As your nails scrap over its surface, a thin line splinters the golden finish. You pick at the film with your nails until you're left with a white, faceless coin. You hold it closer to your face, sniffing curiously. No scent. 

Hesitantly, you wedge the small disk between your teeth - biting down. 

The coin breaks away as smoothly as butter whilst remaining firm on your tongue. As you chew, it makes a moment for any flavor to register. What you presumed to be white chocolate turned out to be… something else entirely. It doesn't quite taste like it anyway. This taste.. It reminds you of something. The first bite of a sweet you haven't had in some time. Did you eat so much of it that you grew bored of it? Was it not being sold anymore? Was it still in stores - and just didn't taste the same anymore?

Swallowing, you sigh. Where do you begin? Do you tell them about the falling out with your friends? Your troubles at work? How everytime it feels like you're taking a step forward in life, you're knocked three back? Your mind is racing, yet the rest of you feels so drained. It's all too much. At least for one night. 

“I'm just… tired, Dea. That's all.” 

Dea’s lips remained sealed - expression one of contemplation. It softens, fingers tucking a now dry strand of hair behind your ear as they hushedly mutter. “Thank you for being honest.”

The deity slides a hand beneath your knees, the other positioned to your neck as they lift you up from the couch, heading towards your bedroom. “I would appreciate hearing the minor details in the morning, but for now I believe some well deserved rest is what you are in need of most. Come morning, I shall have a bath for you prepared soon as you wake. How does that sound?” 

Had they possessed a human heart - it may have combusted upon the weight of your head falling to their shoulder. “That sounds… actually kinda nice…..” 

Dea pushes the door open with their foot, adjusting you in their arms as they enter your bedroom, trailing leisurely towards the bed. The blankets had already been peeled back, awaiting your fated return just as she had. The god places you upright on the mattress, kneeling as they lift your foot into their lap. Dea unties the laces of your shoe, gently grasping your ankle as they remove the footwear, setting it on the floor beside your bed. They repeat the process with your other shoe, carrying both of them to your closet to be safely stored away. 

Joining your side yet again, Dea helps you into bed - arranging your legs comfortably beneath the sheets before rolling them up to your chin with a corner left untucked for them to easily slide into once finished with their mission. 

“I am so proud of you, My Grace.”

Your voice is muffled by the layers of blankets swathed over you. “For what?” 

‘Just for being you. It's not easy - being human, facing so many hardships throughout such a short time on this earth. I wish I could take it all away. Keep you from those who may harm you. As much as it pains me, I am aware being with others of your kind is a necessary part of life… It's what allows me to grang you the freedom to run off into this cruel reality with me everyday….”

Dea pauses.

“N-not that you need my permission! It just kills me to see you hurting… I've probably talked your ear off enough for one night- Goodnight, My Grace.”

“Dea?”

Your voice is even harder to make out than before. 

“Yes?”

“....Thank you….”

The stinging behind their eye makes it return, but isn't as melancholic as before. “It is my pleasure, Y/n. As always.”

The deity shuts off the lamp beside your bed, snuggling up next to you with a protective arm projected over you as exhaustion takes hold - your eyes drifting close to the soothing whispers of your eternal admirer. 

“Sweet dreams, My Grace. Know as you fall asleep that I will always protect you. As your faithful disciple, and the one who cherishes you ever so dearly in my heart.”

#dea my oc #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere oc #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere god #yandere fluff #soft yandere #yandere drabble

[chocolatecoveredfanfics]

hi there!!! first off, congrats on 500!!! your works are so nice they tickle my brain the right way 😭😭😭 i love love love the way you write ezreal and drunk on you gave me Ideas so i wanted to ask if you could write some more pent up horny ez and some making out? whether its heavily suggestive or straight up nsfw is up to u! :D

Thank you Anon!! ❤️ Did I write too little? Well, I hope this is satisfying enough for your request! Sorry for the interruption at the end ;0

Desperate for friction

Heartsteel! Ezreal x Reader (No gendered terms used but reader is female bodied!)

You were shivering in pleasure as your hips met Ezreal’s, grinding your covered core onto his straining erection through his pants. The friction was delicious but it was not enough to satisfy you both. But Ezreal didn’t have enough time and with all the accessories he was wearing, being able to remove his clothes would be a hassle. But god did he need you right now. He needed to feel your body against his, needed to hear your whimpers and moans, needing the feeling over your velvety walls wrapped tight around his aching cock. He smothered you with a sloppy kiss, muffling his desperate moans. He pulled away, biting his lips at the sight of your dress bunched up around your waist, tights and panties becoming soaked with your arousal from grinding you back and forth on his lap. God it wasn’t enough. “We can’t-” Ezreal interrupted with a hiss of pleasure and leaned up to press another open mouth kiss against your mouth. His tongue quickly sneaking past your lips to rub against your own. You moan into the kiss as his thrusts become more desperate. He pulls away with a wet smack, entranced by the single strand of saliva connecting your lips. Ezreal watched as it snapped and licked his lips, holding himself back from smothering you with another kiss. “I know.” He growled while he cradled you in his arms, adjusting your position so your lower back was partially pressing against the counter of the dressing room. He pressed himself closer to you, pressing you harder onto his hips and controlling the pace. Sweat beaded at his brow, you could tell he was close. You grasped the counter behind you to rut into him, meeting his thrusts and desperate pace. Leaning your head forward to press teasing wet kisses to the corner of his mouth but he wanted more. Ezreal turned his head to capture your lips against his again, his tongue swiping against your bottom lip. This time though you wanted a taste of him. You playfully bit his tongue causing him to jolt and pull away. You didn’t let him get far and swiped your own tongue against his lips, seeking entrance to his mouth. Ezreal moaned as you dominated the kiss, your own tongue rubbing against his and exploring his mouth. He pulled away abruptly and let out a desperate moan, “fuck it.” Was the only warning you got as Ezreal shoved his pants down enough to let his cock spring free. The sound of cloth tearing reached your ears and you gasped at the sight of your tights torn at the crotch. Ezreal didn’t stop there and shoved your underwear to the side, exposing your cunt.. And finally your wet core met his heated flesh. You both let out a moan of relief, his cock grinding between your wet folds once, twice before finally prodding at your entrance- A knock on the door made you both freeze. “Ezreal c’mon it’s time!” A gruff voice yelled out. Ezreal shoved his face into your shoulder and let out a whine at being interrupted. He was definitely grumpy during the whole shoot. And no one except you knew why.

#reader insert #ezreal x reader #heartsteel x reader #heartsteel ezreal x reader #lol x reader #heartsteel #heartsteel ezreal #league of legends

[sakusaur]

been thinking of giving itoshi rin the best head of his life

tags: nsfw!, blowjob, catching him jerking off alone :(

its been a month long trip to paris for him, to meet the club that scouted him and you couldn’t go along with him because of work, so yes it has been one whole month without you and both of you could only settle for pictures and video calls, but it’s definitely not the same.

ok so. maybe rin should have waited for you but after showering and lying down on your shared bed, inhaling your sweet scent that he’d missed, rin simply can’t wait anymore. he’s waited long enough and the pictures you sent this morning is pushing him to his limits, he needs to get off now.

he pulls out his phone to see the pictures again, as if he hasn’t already once jerked off in his hotel room before catching his flight home.

“- can’t wait to see you tonight xo “ it’s a picture of you in the sweetest lingerie piece he bought from france and had it shipped back home for you.

rin quickly pulls down his sweats and frees his aching cock, it slaps against his stomach and he groans from the sensation. he doesn’t even need to spit to lube himself up, his precum is more than enough.

“-ah!” rin gasps as he wraps his hand around himself, shivering from the touch. he thinks he’s lowkey insane acting like this, and he feels that he can cum instantly until-

“rin?”

the door swings open and there you are, standing at the door, looking at rin with his hand wrapped around him and he dropped his phone in shock.

he dropped it faced up, so the picture of you is staring back at you.

“y/n, i can explain but-“ rin is flustered as hell but he still has his hand wrapped around his cock and you quickly drop your bag on the floor, taking the nearest hair tie on your dressing table and put your hair up.

“y/n? what are you doing?” rin is in shock now as you crawl on the bed, kneeling in between his thighs that he so nicely spread for you.

you lean in to him, giving him a peck on the lips, “your welcome home gift!” and you smile before you wrap your own hand around his cock.

rin jerks instantly at your touch, so you hold his thighs down with another free hand and you lean down to suck on just the tip.

“oh…” rin groans with relief, closing his eyes and tries to pry his hand away from his cock but you hold it down with a firm grip, he jerks again and opens his eyes, “what?”

“c’mon, do it with me…my mouth won’t be able to fit all that rinnie…” you lick the tip and stare up at him.

rin feels like he just went to heaven and back.

you start to move your head up and down to the rhythm he likes most, both yours and his hands covering the surface of his cock that you aren’t able to swallow.

“y/n…” rin breathes heavily, his thighs constantly jerking upwards and you moan as he takes his free hand to grab on to your ponytail.

his breathy moans are getting to you as you start to rut against the sheets, wanting to get some friction as you suck him off.

you start to challenge yourself, taking him deeper in your throat.

“y/n i think i’m going to-“ rin notices you trying to get yourself off too as you hump the sheets, and god you drive him insane as he cums so loud without warning.

“fuck!” rin grabs extra tight on your ponytail as you gag on his cum but never stopping, you continue to suck on his throbbing cock.

rin’s thighs start to shake, “y/n, please i want you to cum too.” his voice was quivering as he slowly gets down from his climax.

you swallow everything he gave you and stick your tongue out to show him that nothing is left.

rin reaches over and grabs your hips, lifting you effortlessly on his lap and you can feel his soft cock slowly growing hard again.

rin smiles, before he leans in to kiss you. he always gets so soft and smiley after head, which you enjoy so much.

“now, let me give you the ‘i’m happy to be home’ gift?” rin smirks, and lays you down on the bed and strips your pants off you.

- end

whew!!!!!!! ive been thinking of giving him the sloppiest nastiest head ever since the bllk exhibition standee of him with HIS LEGS SPREADING WIDE…

anyway! might edit it in the morning when i wake up, writing at 2am is always a trip haha…

#blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock imagines #blue lock x y/n #bllk rin #blue lock #rin itoshi #bllk #rin itoshi smut #rin itoshi x y/n #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi x you #rin itoshi imagines #itoshi rin

[icedmetaltea]

do you still write in general or have all your works been removed from ao3 and halted?? I just found An Eye for an Eye and I maybe horribly obsessed with it hahah

I still write from time to time but for myself or random fandoms that I don't share on here- the ones I have shared for this fandom have been orphaned but can still be accessed here but if u found that I'm assuming u know that lol

Writing these days just makes me feel horrifically self-conscious so if I do share I like doing so on accounts where nobody knows me and I have no expectations to live up to ya feel? ; u ;

Here is a lil doodle and a jealousy snippet I was gonna write at some point if it helps ya feel better *patpat*

(Set at some point in the future, Y/n's gotten enough trust to be allowed in Eclipse's enclosure without supervision and so Kai's joining them to scope the place out + do some plotting since it's too loud for mics to pick anything up above the ambience of water and ironically it's safer for them to talk in here than anywhere else in the facility lol... also it's been so long since I wrote the fic I can't remember if Eclipse is blind or not so let's assume so)

"Wait up!" you barked, running up behind the man so fast you nearly ran into him headfirst as the doors automatically closed behind the two of you.

"Watch it, will you? And I'm working on a tight schedule here, okay? Not all of us are coddled by staff..."

"Coddled?! I'm given the lofty privilege of being used as live bait and you-"

"So this is what it looks like, huh? I haven't been in here for a while." He gave a whistle, turning to you briefly before walking further into the room. You followed close behind him, holding back your boiling temper for the time being. "Last time I was here, the water was filled with algae and god knows what else."

You shrugged. "Yeah. I guess... It helps now that I clean Eclipse regularly. The rest of staff was too chicken to so much as touch it."

"I still can't believe you do that." He wandered closer to the edge of the water, staring down into the dark abyss. Far down, the mer began to rouse from its usual afternoon slumber, scintillations dancing deep below as it slowly moved. "And I can't believe all you've managed to lose so far is an eyeball. You have all your limbs intact, as far as I can tell."

"It was scary at first, sure, but then I realized it was literally just a big fish I was dealing with. One that ruined my albeit shitty life. I was getting money out of the deal, so..."

You kicked your foot absentmindedly, watching the dark outline ripple through the water, approaching the surface.

"It's all bark and no bite."

As if on cue, the surface tension broke as the mer surfaced, the water rippling and floor shaking with the force of its purr. The sound was cut short, though, its head tilting in curiosity as its fake smile stared at the two of you.

"Are you sure about that...?"

The second it heard Kai's voice, the flat side of its face slanted upwards so its teeth were on display, pulling up into a snarl. A low growl rumbled through the floor and up into your legs, making you wobble slightly.

"Hey, what the hell?!" you were quick to say, throwing up your hands in disbelief. "You choose now to throw a tantrum??"

Its tongue flicked out in what you now knew was its own weird way of sniffing the air, and soon after the sound of its growling grew louder.

"Shit!" Kai hissed, "Didn't you say this was safe?"

"Of course it's safe! Hey slimebrain, will you shut up?!" You took a few confident steps forward and punched a hand over one of its tendrils. It relaxed at the contact, a tiny purr mixing in with its incessant snarling. "You're makin' a big idiot of yourself in front of my... acquaintance."

"Oh, so that's the title you're giving me?" He regretted opening his mouth, as the next second Eclipse lurched towards him, snapping its teeth worryingly close to his face. You breathed a sigh of relief when you saw it hadn't ripped the flesh off his nose or something. Yet, anyways.

"Okay, okay!!!" You jumped in front of him, tripping and landing on your ass, but at least it made the mer stop moving. "What's gotten into you? You've been behaving well the past couple of months and you chose today to get all pissy? Honestly..."

Eclipse made something akin to a huffing sound, then unlatched its jaw just enough to grasp the back of your collar. It dragged you, flailing the entire way, away from Kai, only stopping when half your body was submerged in water.

As soon as you opened your mouth to in protest, it the large, flat underside of its jaw hovered over you, blanketing you in shadow. One set of its hands came to hold you in place, ignoring your cries of anger as it continued to growl.

"Okay, I'm just gonna... go..." Kai finally said, a tremble in his voice as his footsteps became more and more distant till the sound of the doors opening and closing made you realize he'd left.

"That pussy..." you spat beneath your breath, though you were much more angry at the mer than him. "You!! You ruin everything!"

As soon as the man was gone, Eclipse's mood seemed to flip like a switch, growls bleeding into those grating attempts at chirps and purrs it never quite seemed to translate into something that didn't sound like a dying whale.

It was proud, perhaps even gloating, you realized as it turned its head completely around to peer down at you with a false grin. Water dripped down on you, and you also realized your freshly-laundered clothes were now sopping wet.

#Answer tag #Metaltea Talks #Eye for an Eye #Metaltea doodles #Metaltea writes #mer au #*gives anon a bowl of pasta*

[crackedpumpkin]

Hey can you do a ninjago cole x reader?

maybe where the reader is a priestess and the ninja need something from her to help the city or something I dont know

(feel free to ignore just got this of the top of my head, also havent requested something in a while)

|| ʜᴏʟʏ ɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅ|| ᴄᴏʟᴇ ʙʀᴏᴏᴋᴇꜱᴛᴏɴᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ||

[ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

Hello love! I hope you enjoy this one, it's been a while since I wrote anything for Cole ahahah. Stay hydrated and safe everyone! More content is still on its way, I've just been very busy with graduation, work, and whatnot ^^ also @legogeek33 's reblog(?) (comment???) about the First Spinjitsu Master being the equivalent of God in Ninjago is so fucking valid :)

“Well, this is gonna hurt.” 

Cole chuckles breathlessly, eyes fixed on the building that comes crashing down. Not even his superhuman strength could help him now. He can vaguely hear the cries of civilians a distance away, smiling to himself. Looks like Jay managed to get them out.

The sight of a huge concrete slab hurtling towards him after that is the last thing he sees.

— — — — —

“Priestess! We need your help!” 

You turn instantly at the sound of someone calling you, almost dropping the candelabra in your hands, when you see the bloodied and ragged ninja, the familiar bright colours of their gi soaked in splattered crimson.  You immediately place it down, rushing over to the temple entrance. 

“Treat him first. Please.” The green ninja pleads. He and the Lightning ninja are the only things preventing the unconscious Earth ninja between them from collapsing to the ground. You can barely make out his face, spotting a deep gash the length of your arm running down his side. 

You purse your lips, nodding. “This way,” You instruct, gesturing for some of the other temple staff on night duty to come forward and assist them. You guide them to the main room, where a giant statue of the First Spinjitsu Master stands at the front, moving to help place the Earth ninja down onto a soft mat your disciples lay down for you. 

You place his arm on your shoulder, standing up with a sharp exhale once half his weight is transferred to you. Both you and the Lightning ninja gently lay him down, your white robes now stained with blood. 

“Forgive me,” You murmur, hands gently gripping the bottom of his hood and pulling it up, exposing his face. His breathing is short and stuttered, beads of sweat on his brow as a river of red continues to trickle down his skin. 

Clasping your hands together, you start to perform your ritual of healing. You close your eyes, placing your hands directly on his wound. Blood coats the skin, and you feel your palms warm. 

Even with your eyes closed, you can still see the faint soft rays that emit from your palms. The strong scent of iron fills the air, practically coating your tongue. You struggle to hold back the nausea that overwhelms you, focusing purely on saving this man’s life. Eventually, you hear his pained grunts fade and the familiar trickle of the blood slowing its flow.

His wound is the first thing you check. It’s no longer bleeding, a thin layer of raw pink skin forming over it. Dried blood cakes the surrounding skin, but other than that, he would be alright. The rest of the ninjas receiving treatment behind you are staring in awe, still in disbelief that they have managed to witness your holy powers for the first time in their lives.

You nod at another of your disciples who steps forward, gently picking up the Earth ninja and bringing him to the med bay in the church. You turn to face the rest, a small smile on your lips. “He will be alright now.”

They all breathe out sighs of relief, thanking you profusely. “It’s alright. Please, stay and rest. We will take care of you, so feel free to ask for any assistance. My friend here will guide you to your rooms, while I will oversee your friend's recovery personally.” After a quick bow to the grateful ninja, you take your leave, reassuring them of any worries they previously held.

The next few days are relatively peaceful, with the ninja having more or less fully recovered from their injuries. Well, all save for one. The Earth ninja remained unconscious, and you were in the med bay day and night, healing him to the best of your ability. 

You’d even helped change and bandage him. Sure, it was a little embarrassing at first, with your innocent eyes never having seen a man shirtless. You’d gotten used to it over time, though, and aren’t as affected as before. Cole was his name, you heard, with the ninja becoming more comfortable around you and revealing their identities. It’s a nice name. You like the way it rolls off your tongue.

You rinse the clean cloth in the pail on the table beside you, wringing it dry and gently dabbing at the scrapes and bruises on his body. The shallow cuts gradually healed, with most of them barely leaving scars. The deep gash from the night before is also healing rather nicely, most of the dried blood having been wiped away. 

You brush aside his hair, taking a moment to admire his face. He’s rather handsome, you suppose, with long lashes brushing against the skin under his eyes, his pale upper lip curved with a perfect cupid’s bow. His toned arms lay on each side of him, the defined muscle more apparent without his gi covering them. 

You gingerly brush the soft cloth against his cheek, cleaning it as per your usual ritual and leaving the more private areas alone. You move onto his arms, turning to rinse the cloth once more.

“Who…are you…?” You’re startled by the sudden voice, turning to see Cole’s lips tugged downwards in a confused frown. You approach him with a warm smile, gently shushing him and continuing to clean his body. 

“Everything’s okay; get some proper rest now. You’re in a safe place.” You promise him. He can barely muster the strength to speak, trying to sit up. You place your hands on his shoulders, pushing him back down with a tut and sitting on his bed. He doesn’t protest, his eyes fixed on your face even as they slowly close.

He begins to snore. You stifle a giggle, finishing up your task before gathering the pail and cloth and leaving the room. You make your way to the kitchen, placing the pail down in its usual place, where someone would help to clean it. 

The next few days are much more lively. Once the rest of the ninjas heard that their friend was alright, they visited the med bay every day. More often than not, you had to chase them out so that Cole could get enough rest. Okay, maybe you just wanted to spend time with him as well. 

Over the weeks spent with him, the both of you had bonded over your mutual love of books, eagerly discussing trivial topics such as the thrilling adventures of Lillian McGonagall, a book series you both are fans of. However, as time passed and Cole recovered fully, you found yourself wishing more and more that he’d stay. 

One night, however, you found yourself in his room, having subconsciously made an excuse to yourself to just check up on him one last time before he left with the rest of the ninjas. Strangely enough, your heart twisted at the thought of waking up to a temple devoid of his presence, already dreading the morning when you’d forget that he wasn’t here anymore. 

You knock on the door, surprised when it opens on the second tap. Suddenly, you’re tugged into the room, the door closing behind you with a soft click. You find yourself with your back against it, looking up into warm obsidian eyes. “Hey,” You greet Cole breathlessly, your hands gripping the fabric of your white robe as your racing heart thrums happily in your chest.

“Hey,” He chuckles, his palm resting flat against the door beside your head. You can’t look away, eyes fixed on his playful yet kind gaze. “So, what’re you doing here?”

“I couldn’t sleep, so I just thought I’d check on you.” Your lousy excuse is obvious, even to him. He raises a brow at your words, lips tugging up into a smirk. Oh. You swallow thickly. To have those lips on yours would be such a blessing.

“I couldn’t sleep either.” You’re suddenly made aware of his free hand gently combing through your long locks, the silky strands on his fingers as he lifts his hand up. His gaze doesn’t falter, even as he kisses your hair.

You feel your cheeks warm, your head flooding with unholy thoughts you can’t seem to will away, no matter how much you try. It’d be a lie to say that having his lips on yours isn’t all that’s on your mind right now.

You forget how to breathe, especially when he smiles down at you. He takes a step closer, than another, until your bodies are flush against each other. His hand cups your chin, his thumb brushing over your plump bottom lip. His eyes flit from your eyes to your lips, then back up again. 

You can’t think.

“May I?” 

Cole’s husky whisper is all the temptation you need, managing a shaky nod as your tongue darts out to lick your lips. All at once, his lips are on yours. You close your eyes, moving your lips against his and chasing the sweet and addictive taste of euphoria he provides. 

You pull him closer, and his hand grips your right thigh, gently squeezing it. You oblige, lifting your legs and wrapping them around his waist. The kiss grows more urgent. The promise of tomorrow’s departure spurs both of you forward to cross the line. 

Except, the line isn’t crossed. 

You pull back, panting heavily as dark pink coats your cheeks. His luscious red lips are all you can see, but you come to your senses through the haze. You can’t go any further than this. If you did, you’d fall for him harder than ever. You wouldn’t be able to handle his absence.

So you cup his cheek, pressing a gentle peck against it. 

This seems to bring him back down to earth from his euphoric high, blinking a few times before he smiles softly at you. The both of you share another gentle yet chaste kiss, your hands tangling themselves in his shaggy, coal-black hair as the both of you continue to whisper tender words and affectionate promises to each other through the dizzying brush of his lips against yours. 

The following day, he departs. But not before giving you one last kiss, hidden away in the med bay after you help him pack his belongings. Giving your goodbyes to the ninja, you watch them leave, eyes fixed on one in particular. A hushed promise of his is held close to your heart, one of him returning. 

It’s been a year since they left, and you’ve busied yourself with the temple's upkeep and your duties as the Priestess of the temple. You’re occasionally given updates on the ninja, hearing about their adventures in the Kingdom of Shintaro. You hear about Cole and Vania, a shard of jealousy embedding itself in your heart. 

After that, you explicitly ordered no one to mention his name around you. You didn’t want to know. So much for the promise he made to you. Were you nothing to him? Did that night become nothing more than mere memory to him? 

Did he forget about you?

You weren’t sure whether you wanted answers.

One day, however, you returned from an outing to the village where you cured the sick and injured, as was your regular routine. The temple was in a commotion, with various staff rushing around as if they were preparing for the arrival of a royal.

“What’s going on?” You question one of them, stopping her as she rushes toward the kitchen. 

“I-I think it’s best if you see it for yourself, priestess.” She stutters, glancing at the main room. You frown, letting her go and making your way there yourself. Who would be as bold as to intrude into your sanctuary? 

You push the doors open, your rushed footsteps slowing to a stop when you register the familiar black gi. He turns, and it’s as if you’re seeing him for the first time again. The hair you’d so carelessly tangled your hands in, those stupid lips you’d so passionately kissed all those nights ago….

It can’t be.

You’re frozen in place as Cole strides over, the easygoing smile on his lips making your heart skip a beat even now. You can’t even muster the strength to push him away as he tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, lifting up a few strands and kissing them before looking up at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“I told you I’d come back.”

#ninjago #ninjago x reader #ninjago cole x reader #cole x reader #ninjago cole x you #ninjago cole x y/n #x reader #music store au #cole brookestone #cole brookestone x reader #cole brookestone x you #cole brookestone x y/n #asks #requests #x reader requests

[userlando]

ivy here!!

im stuck thinking about being in a fwb/situationship type thing with lando and you guys decide to play a game. the first person to touch the other loses. you guys are at a party, and you're in a tight dress, purposely dancing with other guys, borderline grinding on them, and just watching as he holds himself back, tongue in cheek as his eyes never leave you. it gets to the point where your arms are linked around another persons neck, about to kiss them, before he gives in and drags you away. your stuck in the passenger side of his car, trying to get hin to at least place a hand on your thigh, give you some form of relief as you can feel a heat growing in your core, but he gives you nothing. you drive back in silence until you finally get to his flat.

he throws you against the wall, making out passionately and agressively, just pure lust in both of your minds. he brings you to his bed, uses his belt to tie your hands up so you're not allowed to touch him, before eating you out like a starved man over and over, until you can't even remember how many times you've came. your hair sticks to your foreheard with a sheen layer of sweat, as you're so overstimulated yet begging for release over and over. he chuckles at you, calling you 'his desperate little whore' and teasing you for just how desperate you are. finally, after however many orgasms, he gently fucks you, and its loving now, soft thrusts as he knows you're sensitive, leaving kisses all over your head and neck, sucking in the spots he knows you love.

and afterwards he's just the sweetest. bc he knows he's pushed you to your limits, he knows he's tiptoeing on the line you guys have set, as he gently cleans your thighs he demands you drink some water. he allows you to just cuddle into him, his heartbeat slowly calming you down, whispering kind words of how much he appreciates you and how good you are for him (he def calls u his good girl as well) and just as you're drifting off he wishes how much he loves u, bc he cant say it any other time, even though its true.

lol this went a bit far im so down bad for little racer boy

ivy how do you manage to render me speechless EVERY TIME? this is so good oh my god, him making you come until you reach your limit before he fucks you? magnificent, extraordinary, AMAZING 😭😭😭🫶🏼

#zee’s asks 💌 #lando brainrot #WHEWWW

[besthimbomachine]

my love when it counted. 10

summary: When you showed up at his house to see him, Kenny didn't expect for you to stay the night, let alone for a simple visit to turn into something more. But you gave him an opportunity, and he couldn't dare turn it down. So he ends the night with you in his arms, sharing a moment he could only dream of for the past few years. Even if it would last just this one night, even if it would be gone by daylight, he still chose to take this chance. Any later pain would be worth the pleasure. pairing: kenny omega x reader word count: 7636 warning: smut (biting and marking, oral f! receiving, unprotected piv, creampie, all the good stuff), today is gonna be the day that we got no angst. none. zero. beware traveler, the levels of simping in here are very high, like dangerously high. the simpmeter is going haywire. we talking reactor meltdown levels of simping. the scouter says it's over nine thousand. but what did you expect from the payoff of a slow burn series about a guy simping real hard for his ex? also there be some level of catholic imagery here. which proves you can take the latino out of catholicism but to the catholicism ouf of the latino. again it's a series with hozier lyrics in the title, it's gonna be simping, horny and catholic. on that note the way if you want a playlist for this chapter just pull up any hozier playlist, any, it just needs to have francesca and take me to church in it.

10.

“Why don’t you let me know that new you, then?”

The words spill from your mouth in a husky voice, your palm brushing over the stubble on his face as your thumb caresses his lower lip. Your half lidded eyes hold him in such a powerful pull that Kenny doesn’t even dare to think of looking away. Not that he would ever want to. You look so beautiful that his heart almost breaks at the sight. If this isn’t what heaven feels like, he’d rather be tossed to the fires of hell.

When your lips finally descend to his own, relief washes over him like a tidal wave, crashing away everything until there is only you. And right now you are the only thing he needs. So Kenny relinquishes himself to the moment, to you, lips and hands in a worship so profound it would bring envy to any god. If only for this one blissful night, he will wash away who he was and be allowed to be someone new. To give you a side of him he wishes he could have shown all these years ago.

He dives into the kiss like a starving man, pulling your body impossibly closer as your mouths move in an erotic dance. It’s needy, and sloppy and almost desperate - but he doesn’t care, not anymore. Kenny groans into the kiss as he feels your fingers digging into his bicep, nails biting lightly into his skin as you anchor yourself on him. The hand under your shirt slides over your skin, committing every curve and bump to memory as he presses your body into his. Kenny savors every inch of your mouth, drinking your moans as he tastes whatever his tongue can touch. When you finally need to break apart for air, he buries his face in your neck again, taking in your scent as his mouth brushes over your sensitive flesh. 

Kenny’s lips ghost over your neck, his breath heating up your skin but not enough, not nearly enough. There is anticipation building up inside your body at his teasing, tightening your core as one of his hands digs into your ass, the other slowly feeling its way up your back and side. It’s bliss and torture all at the same time as you can’t help but want more, your hand delving into his hair to tug at the soft locks. He reacts with a groan and then you feel his wet tongue touch your skin, a whimper coming from your mouth as he licks a stripe up your neck, then follows the same line down with soft kisses.

You moan out his name and he seems to like it, groaning against your skin, stubble scratching your neck as his teeth graze over your pulse. It’s like you can feel his thirst as he lays sloppy kisses over your neck and shoulder before coming back to your mouth, devouring your lips with fervor. He silences your whimpers with his tongue and the warmth of his mouth, and you give yourself freely into his touch, one hand bracing your weight on his thick shoulders as the other travels down his back. You roll your hips over his own and Kenny grunts, the hand on your ass pulling you down so you can feel the hard bulge in his pants rubbing against your crotch.

When you do it again he breaks away from the kiss, teeth capturing your bottom lip as you whimper at the friction. Kenny releases your lip with a deep groan, hips bucking into your own. You feel the hand on your back sliding down, both of his hands finding your thighs and before you realize what is happening he gets up, lifting you with him, your hands clinging to his shoulders. Kenny’s fingers dig into your flesh, grip hard as his mouth never leaves your neck. He walks in fast long strides and soon enough you feel him hitting the bed, and lowering you to it. Your back hits the soft mattress, knees hooked around the edge, legs hanging from it.

Kenny climbs on the bed, kneeling over you, your hips trapped under him as he reaches for a lamp on the nightstand, dim orange light engulfing the room in its soft touch. It’s the same room you had been in before, the same posters and the same bed, but it feels completely different now. Your eyes adjust to the low light and you see Kenny take off his shirt, large hands pulling it from the back. He tosses it to the side and your breath hitches for a moment, it’s not like you hadn’t seen him shirtless before, but not like this - at least not in many years. And god, there was no denying how handsome he was, chiseled body bathed in the warm glow, tousled hair framing his beautiful face. And then there were his eyes, like windows to the ocean, pulling you into their depths. He smiles and you remember how to breathe, feeling blood rush to your face.

The bed dips as Kenny moves, groaning under his weight. He lowers himself to you, capturing your lips in a kiss, your hands finding his broad chest as his own slip under your shirt. To your dismay, the kiss is cut short, his fingers tugging at the fabric covering your chest as he pulls it up, urging you to move, so he can get it off, which you gladly do. Kenny tosses the shirt to the side just as he did to his own, eyes finding your exposed chest, his powerful stare feeling like fire on your skin. You almost feel self conscious at the long moment it takes for him to touch you again, one hand finding your breast as he uses the other for support, lips capturing your own in a kiss. 

Your hands lift to touch Kenny’s large body, roaming over his strong abs up to his broad chest, fingers feeling the movements of his powerful muscles under the skin. He is so large his frame almost engulfs your own, keeping you caged under his massive form, his weight pinning your hips in place. He is kissing you with fervor, the hand on your breast groping hard, thick fingers sinking into your soft flesh. One of your hands slides up his chest and to his shoulder, nails digging into his skin, your other hand travels to his side, indulging in the feeling of his hard muscles rippling under your touch and the weight of his body.

Kenny groans at your caress, feeling your hands travel his heated body, a rumble coming from deep inside his throat and dying in the wetness of your kiss. You feel so good under him, his fingers kneading your breast, relinquishing how pliable and soft it felt in his hand, his digits sinking in the supple flesh. With a loud moan, you break from the kiss, gasping for air under Kenny and whimpering as he rolls his hips over yours. Just the sound alone has his cock throbbing, anticipation building up in his gut and sending a shiver up his spine.

He feeds on the noise of your moans and the feeling of your nails sinking into his shoulder, the way your body curves under his, almost begging for his touch, drives Kenny into a frenzy. It’s like his whole being is on fire, every nerve set alight just by your proximity. He drags his lips across the side of your face, kissing your ear before taking the lobe in his mouth, sucking hard on it. You twitch under him, his name leaving your lips in a whimper, and Kenny shudders, the sound of you calling for him driving his mind to the edge as he groans in your ear.

You cry out again, hands roaming over Kenny’s torso, nails painting his pale skin red. His lips make a path down your neck, leaving a wet trail and light bites across his way. He continues to move lower, nipping on the junction of your neck and shoulder as he goes, savoring every inch of your skin he can. Kenny wants to memorize the taste of your skin and the sensation of your flesh on his fingers. To burn in his mind the smell of your body, so he would never forget it again.

His lips reach your free breast, ghosting over the soft skin for a moment as he feels your breath getting caught in your chest. Long fingers flick and pinch the nipple on your other breast and you gasp, arching further into him, the sound fueling the fire within him. When Kenny’s lips sink to your soft flesh you moan long and deep, he sucks and bites at the underside of your breast hard, his fingers never ceasing their movements. You are trembling under him, one of your hands tangling into his hair as the other almost clawed at his back. After Kenny feels satisfied, his lips disconnect from your soft skin, tongue drawing a stripe upwards until it reaches your nipple, giving it a long lick before his mouth engulfs it.

You tug at Kenny’s hair as his fingers tease your sensitive nipple, mewling and shivering when he finally takes the other one in his mouth. He moans in response, the vibrations traveling to your skin as he keeps his lips attached to your breast, sucking and licking and leaving you feverish. His body feels hot like a furnace, every single touch of his searing your skin in the most delicious way. You try to move your hips, to get some of the friction you so desperately need, but it’s futile as Kenny uses his whole weight to pin you down.

Kenny’s warm mouth lets go of your nipple, grunting loudly, the sound visceral and animalistic. His lips never leave your breast, though, returning to suck and bite at the underside as you moan in a shaky voice. You can feel his warm wet mouth on your soft skin, he is all tongue and teeth, a hunger that feels blissful. You are pretty sure there is going to be a dark purple mark there tomorrow. Though, you couldn’t say he wasn’t making good on his word - he was leaving a bruise exactly where nobody would see.

He feels you trying to squirm under him again, hips rutting against his own, pulling a strangled cry from his lips. His cock twitches in his pants at the friction, desperate for more, but there is something else he wants before. Kenny’s lips leave your skin, licking a wet path from one breast to the other. His hand releases your nipple just in time for his mouth to find it, rolling the sensitive bud between his teeth as his fingers sink into your pliable flesh. Letting go of your nipple, he pulls himself up, darkened eyes looking deep into your own before he leans down to kiss you.

Just as you try to deepen the kiss, Kenny pulls away, sliding off the bed, the soft mattress bouncing up as it’s freed from his massive weight. His large hands hook under your thighs, fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you closer to the edge of the bed in one swift motion. You gasp and he can feel your eyes on him, burning a path through his skin while he smirks, deft fingers quickly taking off your pants and underwear in a single move. His eyes meet yours and without breaking eye contact, Kenny kneels, legs meeting the cold hard ground as his whole body drops before you.

He places your thick thighs over his shoulders, framing his head as his lips softly brush over the heated skin, relinquishing in the soft touch. You whimper at his almost touch, and Kenny grunts in response, whole body rumbling in anticipation. It had been so painfully long since he had last tasted you that he was determined to make this moment last. His hands caress your thighs as Kenny closes his eyes, taking in the smell of your skin, the exquisite mix of your chocolate perfume and the smell of your wet sex. He lays a soft wet kiss to the exposed skin framing his face, darkened eyes meeting yours, roaming your body as his lips ghost over your flesh.

“You have pants in your gear?” Kenny mumbles against your skin, husky voice dripping with lust, feeling thick as honey as the question reaches your ears.

“Yeah,” you manage to almost stutter out, breath heavy and voice stuck in your throat, “why?”

He hums against your skin, vibrations traveling through your flesh as he gives you a smile you can only describe as devilish. “You’re gonna need them for the match,” Kenny’s words come out in a groan as you feel his fingers digging into your thighs, locking them in place.

The minute the words leave his lips, you feel Kenny’s mouth on your thigh. A sharp sting rises through your flesh as his teeth sink into your skin, quickly followed by the soothing touch of his warm tongue. He is sucking and biting at your inner thigh like a starving man, cursed with a hunger that could never be sated. You whimper and moan, voice a broken, desperate cry, his strong hands keeping your legs flush against his head as he ravages them. Kenny alternates from one thigh to another, leaving his previous spot with a soothing, soft kiss once he was satisfied with his work. 

Slowly he makes his way further down, closer to where you need him to be, but still in no hurry. He is leaving dark bruises everywhere his mouth can touch, marking your inner thighs so thoroughly you are sure you’ll still be bruised by the end of the week. Though, right now, you don’t really care, you’ll gladly wear the damn pants for your match so long as you don’t lose the bliss of his touch. Kenny has you mewling and trembling under his mouth, the feeling of his sharp teeth and wet tongue mixed with the way his stubble scratched your thigh drives you close to madness. And whenever he brushes his face ever so slightly against your pussy, you feel yourself close to screaming.

By the time he gets to the apex of your thighs, you are almost begging - but not quite crossing that line yet. He nips and sucks at the junction of your leg and hip before his lips finally meet your desperate pussy. Kenny’s touch is soft, teasing, a gentle kiss to your wet folds that has you hissing and crying, when you moan his name he finally sinks his mouth onto you and you feel the air knocked out of your chest. He trails the flat of his tongue from your entrance to your clit, making you shudder, one of your hands delving into his hair and gripping tight. With a grunt, you prop your torso up in one elbow, looking down at him. Just the sight alone sends a shiver down your spine, this massive, statuesque man knelt before your feet, his hulking form groveling on the ground between your legs.

Your fingers tug at his hair and Kenny moans into your pussy, relinquishing in the warm wetness. You taste so good and he missed it so much, he is lapping at you, kissing and sucking and drinking in everything you have to give. He can feel you whimpering and shivering under him and it only fuels his desire, only making him push his lips harder on your folds as he sucks at the soft skin. You cry out his name again and Kenny groans, tongue caressing your entrance before moving up to lick at your clit.

He was insatiable, assaulting your soaked pussy as his tongue swirled around your clit. You pulled on his hair, grunting and shuddering under his touch, and by god, he wouldn’t trade this for anything. Kenny laps at your folds before sucking on your clit, the cry that comes out of you has his cock throbbing in need. He is digging his fingers into your trembling thighs, keeping them in place with a forceful grip. It’s a given that there will be bruises when he is done, but he is sure that if he wasn’t holding them, your powerful legs would be closing his windpipe pretty quickly. Though, he doesn’t mind the danger. Not when he gets to enjoy all the sounds you make as he licks and sucks at your sensitive clit, delving into your pussy until you are all he can taste.

“Kenny,” you cry out his name and he groans, the vibrations traveling through your soft flesh and making you shiver.

He can feel how close you are by the trembling of your legs, the way your hips struggle under his mouth trying to ride him so you could get what you wanted. Kenny holds you still, enjoying your needy whimpers and the way you tug so hard on his hair whenever he sucks your clit again. He is teasing you and drawing this out, he knows that, he knows you want to cum so bad, but he just wants to savor you some more. He flicks his tongue over your clit and you moan again, the sound sending a shiver down his spine.

“Kenny, please,” you cry out in a desperate plea, and how could Kenny resist you when you ask so nicely?

The moment you give in and beg, you hear him groan, sucking and licking at your clit with fervor until you are seeing white. You hear a cry and it takes a moment for you to register it as yours, voice dripping with need. The arm you were using to prop yourself up gives out and your body crashes on the mattress, the hand on his hair tightening as you try desperately to ride his face through your orgasm. It’s no use, though, his strong hands hold you in place as he drinks everything you give him.

Kenny only stops when you push his face away, laying soft kisses to your trembling thighs, whispering unintelligible things into your skin as his hands gently caress the vast expanse of flesh. He stays kneeling before you, letting you recover from your intense orgasm, touching you with such tenderness you could almost call it devotion. When your legs stop trembling he gets up, in the dim lamp light you can see his face half covered in your wetness. Your eyes are drawn to his gaze, the shining blue all but gone from his eyes. Kenny moves his hands to his pants, pulling them down in one swift motion, you see his cock spring up, already glistening with pre cum. The sight breaks you from your daze and you pull yourself back from the edge of the bed, laying fully exposed before him.

The sight of you naked in bed before him has Kenny groaning, a low rumble that escapes through his teeth. You look perfect, and it’s like he can still feel your pussy on his lips, his tongue, all over his face, the sensation taking over his body. It could almost erase the taste of guilt from his mouth that he carried for all these years, clean the taint from his soul, even if just for one night. He climbs over you on the bed, your arms coming around his body, your lips meeting his, and the kiss makes Kenny feel free from the cruel sin he committed, free to try again. His body feels light under your hands, and you could never imagine how glad he feels to be here now, to get a second chance at the garden of your touch. Even if it’s ripped away from him by the light of the morning, the suffering would still be worth it, Kenny never shied away from the pain.

When his chest burns from the lack of breath, he finally breaks the kiss, eyes opening to find your own so impossibly close, his hands roaming your body in devout adoration. You lay under him, legs hooked over his own, arms thrown over his shoulders, pulling him to you, bodies sharing in the same heat. Kenny would be ashamed to admit how many times he had dreamt of this, of having you back in his arms. Ashamed of just how many times this dream had him seeking solace in his own touch, only to feel the creeping shame once the deed was done. But for once the universe smiles upon him, and when his lips find yours again, this time it isn’t a dream.

You pull him flush against you, chest to chest, skin on skin, as your mouths dance in a heated kiss. Kenny is bracing himself with one arm while his free hand travels to your ass, groping it hard and making you moan into the kiss. He rolls his hips against yours, cock rubbing over your wet pussy and it’s his time to moan, breaking away from your soft lips to bury his face in your neck. Your legs move to hook around his hips, your hands dragging over his shoulder and back, nails biting into his skin. Kenny can feel you shudder as he repeats the motion of his hips a few times, kissing your neck with fervor as sweat starts building in between your bodies.

Kenny hears you whimpering in his ear in the most beautiful way, but as much as he loves teasing you, his own self control is wearing thin. Letting go of your ass, he brings his hand to his thick shaft, positioning his cock against your entrance, pushing the head in slightly. You tremble and moan and he is fighting real hard not to bite your neck again. He keeps pushing inside, hand moving from his cock to your thigh, digging hard on your flesh as he slowly sinks his hips into yours, giving you time to accommodate his size. Kenny loses himself in the feeling of you stretching so deliciously around him, wet pussy tightening around his dick, trying to suck him in. You both moan together when he finally bottoms out inside your soft walls, voices in an erotic cacophony.

“Shit, taking everything in one go, you are still so fucking good,” Kenny whispers against your neck, hot breath almost burning you as he murmurs filthy praises against your skin in a delirious tone.

You shudder as he buries his whole cock inside of you, feeling impossibly full, his massive girth stretching your walls. It had been so long, and fuck, it still felt so damn good. Kenny holds still for just a moment, hand leaving your thigh and finding your breast again as he lays sloppy kisses on your neck. It’s like your body is burning on the inside, sweat pooling between you two, and when he moves the fire spreads. He rolls his hips back out to the tip and then pushes inside in a slow movement, your pussy molding to every bump and curve of his cock as it drags your walls. There is no preparing for how full he makes you feel, the stretch leaving your mind blank with pleasure.

He keeps on doing that, rolling his hips into yours in deliberate wave motions that have your pussy quivering and your mind spinning every time. His soft warm lips are all over your neck and shoulders, sloppily kissing and licking your sensitive skin, making you feel like you are going crazy as he draws moan after moan from your throat. A large hand gropes your breast hard before leaving it, moving down your sides, touching every once of skin it can find. It feels so fucking good, Kenny’s massive body rubbing against yours as your hands hold onto whatever you can, digging your nails into his back until you leave a mark.

After all these years, you’d forgotten how good he felt on you. Forgotten how you'd missed the feeling of his body on yours. Though, you could barely say this was the man you remembered. He had the same skin but a different touch, the same smell, but it felt different. Kenny had always been aggressive, commanding in a way that felt violent. Taking you in whichever ways he wanted, though you had always been happy to play along, let him manhandle and bend you into whatever it was he desired. This time, though, this time it felt different. Intense, but in a whole other manner. The way his body sinks into yours feels like heavenly bliss, tailor made for you. His hand traveling down your body like a caress that’s at the same time tender and desperate. It’s like touching fire, but the burn never comes.

Kenny leaves your neck, propping himself on his knees without ever slipping out of you. He pulls one of your legs over his shoulder, kissing the inside of your calf and knee, one hand holding your thigh flush against his body as the other pulls your hips towards his own. You moan at the sight of him, crying out his name as he speeds up his thrusts. He keeps stretching you out, making you feel your pussy quivering around him, and his thick length twitching in response. Kenny is burying himself into you with fervor, messy locks falling over his face, his eyelids fluttering, hiding darkened eyes almost devoid of their usual blue. 

The swollen head of his cock presses sinfully against your insides, right on the spot that has you rolling your eyes. It raises the heat in your core, a delicious burn that has you groaning loudly, Kenny biting into the skin of your leg as he grunts in response. He is pushing his cock all the way inside and you moan out every time you feel his hips meeting your own. Fuck, he is so damn big and thick, stretching your walls thin, pushing you to the brim whenever he bottoms out. The feeling of fullness is a pleasure that almost borders on pain, making your hands grasp desperately at anything, one of them finding the soft bed and the other digging into the skin of his thigh.

Your hands find Kenny’s leg, holding onto him tight and he almost roars, feeling his hard length twitch inside you. Your pussy feels like it was made to take his cock, soft warm walls drawing him back in every time he pulls out, clenching and shaking around him every time he buries himself deep enough to feel his balls pressed to your ass. It’s like your hand in his thigh is trying to pull him in, urge him closer, deeper, and if he could, he’d stay deep inside you forever. The pleasure feels like a drug, and Kenny had always been clean, but he imagined this is what it feels like - the powerful, world shaking bliss, and the vicious call of the need to keep coming back for it. It’s as if he hadn’t been home in years, and he was finally allowed back in. 

A large hand pulls your hips back to meet his and you cry out loud, such a sweet, needy sound that has Kenny going crazy. He just can’t get enough of it - of you, and everything you have to give. He goes faster, slamming down hard on your abused pussy, hips in a fluid wave like motion. His cock hits your sweet spot and you moan again, making Kenny shudder, feeling his thick length throb with every sound you make, precum already spilling greedily from the swollen head. The coil in his core tightens as the pleasure builds up in him, so intense it borders on agony, shaking his body to the bones.

Kenny’s mouth finds your calf again, biting and sucking as he keeps his hard pace, feeling your body shiver under him again and again. He is mumbling obscene praises into your skin, words spilling from his mouth like a mad man’s prayers. When you cry out his name, he feels something inside him rage, your voice dripping with lust and need, heating up his body like a wildfire. He pushes your leg back into your body, one hand hooked under your knee as he presses it against your torso. His chest now close to yours again, you bring your lips to meet his, mouths locked in a messy kiss as one of your hands delves into his hair, the other scratching at his back.

Your tongues move in a sloppy dance as he fucks you hard and fast, sinking his entire length down before pulling back out almost all the way. The new position lets him go even deeper and you think you could go mad from it. When his cock presses against that one sweet spot inside you once more, you break away from the kiss, gasping and breathing hard as your pussy clenches around his hard shaft. From above you, Kenny grunts, a deep and wild sound, his hair falling over your face and curtaining you both from the world. He is so damn beautiful like this, sweaty, disheveled and drunk on pleasure. He looks raw and untamed, fucking you like his life depended on that, body feeling like it was molded for your own.

Soft lips find your jaw, laying warm kisses all over it as he hammers himself into you, obscene wet noises filling the room, accompanied by heavy breaths and needy moans. Kenny’s cock continuously pressing against your sweet spot has you oversensitive. His free hand reaches the spot where your bodies meet, deft fingers finding your clit and pulling a strangled cry from your lips, your pussy convulsing around his thick cock. The constant stimulation drowns your senses until all you can feel is the heat of his body almost searing yours, and the intoxicating scent of his skin, a mix of sweat, cologne and your own juices. He has your pussy clenching around him and it doesn’t take long for you to see stars, shaking under his touch and crying out in pleasure as your orgasm hits full force.

A savage and desperate growl leaves Kenny’s mouth as he feels your walls tightening against his shaft, the sensation so good it has him speeding up on instinct. He is thrusting into you hard and fast, chasing his pleasure as the coil in his core tightens more, coming close to snapping. His hand leaves your clit to pull your hips to him as he kisses your chest, burying his face into your skin in pure adoration of your scent. Your hands hold tight to his back and shoulders, and Kenny feels weightless and complete. Oh, how he wished the moment could last forever, but he can’t help his body craving for release when your soft walls are still quivering, milking his cock in a sinful way.

The sloppy sound of his length slamming into your pussy drives Kenny even further, cock throbbing with abandon. His movements are faster now, growing more erratic as he seeks his release, balls feeling tight and heavy as they press against your soft ass. The coil within his core tightens to its limit, your low whimpers under him not helping one bit. You whisper his name in a weak moan, arms pulling him to you and it’s all Kenny can take, stars filling his vision as he drives deep into your soft pussy, massive length buried all the way to the balls. He spills himself into you with a deep and animalistic groan, every muscle in his body contracting as pleasure floods his senses. 

Kenny rocks his hips against yours, riding his high and burying himself impossibly deep into you as he drives his cum into your wet pussy. He is shooting rope after rope of cum in you, painting your insides white. It’s so thick and hot and it just doesn’t stop coming, his orgasm seeming like it lasts an eternity as he drains his balls completely in your cunt. Your name spills from his lips when his hips stop moving, cum leaking out of your abused pussy as he keeps his cock buried as deep inside as he physically can. Kenny kisses the leg he has pressed against you, his body almost crashing onto yours, he knows he needs to move, but he doesn’t want to, he doesn’t want to lose the moment, to break the spell, but he needs to. 

Strained muscles lift his heavy body with a deep sigh, when he pulls out you whimper, and his heart almost breaks as he crashes by your side on the bed. For a couple of minutes the only sound in the room is heavy breathing, Kenny doesn’t dare touching you, out of fear of trespassing some invisible line, no matter how much his hands yearn for your own. He doesn’t dare to speak either, terrified he will say something he would regret, reveal the feelings he had buried deep in his aching heart. His gaze stays glued to the ceiling, only seeing your heaving form from the corner of his vision. Kenny feels his heart skip a beat when your hands touch his forearm, your fingers wrapping around it and softly caressing the skin. His blue eyes finally land on you and you look so beautiful, it’s almost torture.

“You know,” you say with a chuckle, breathing still heavy as the words spill from your lips, “you keep complaining about your age, but you are still doing fucking fantastic,” you laugh, slapping his arm playfully and it’s his turn to chuckle, feeling his face burn red as your eyes find him. “I’ve seen men ten years younger than you not doing half as good.”

You smile at him and Kenny laughs, the sound bubbling from deep within his chest. It’s like all tension dissipates from the air, the dark clouds in his mind clearing until there is nothing left. He will take the compliment, he will take whatever you have to give, even if it isn’t what he wants, he will take it, one day at a time. He can worry about tomorrow when it comes, worry about his feelings when that dam breaks, worry about what you feel when that crossroads appear. For now, he will just enjoy the moment, and enjoy having you here.

“Good to know, then,” he says with a laugh, voice still hoarse and strained. “Up for round two?”

“Hell, yeah,” you respond with a smile, and in a second his lips are on yours again.

The large room is engulfed in darkness when Kenny wakes up, only faint dim light coming through the heavy curtains and he can guess it’s still the dead of night out there. He shivers, and his still hazy mind finally starts to register his sense of touch, and register your body lying close to his own. He has one arm thrown loosely over your waist and a leg resting between yours, your back turned to him. It still takes another moment for it to fully sink in his mind, and he doesn’t remember how you both ended up in this position, but he won’t complain.

Though, now he could guess why he woke up. You had bundled the covers around yourself, leaving almost nothing for him. He could remember this from way back in Japan, a characteristic that was at the same time annoying and endearing. Sighing, he pulls the covers back from you, finally covering his still naked body. You don’t even stir, having always been a heavy sleeper and he knew this wasn’t your fault, just a side effect of how much you could move in your sleep at times. His solution had always been snuggling up close and keeping you locked in his arms, making sure you didn’t move enough to leave him cold in the middle of the night. Now he missed even that, just like he missed having you on his bed, laying tangled in his arms. 

But he didn’t want to think about that right now, he didn’t want to let that pain take hold. So he focused on watching you sleep, his hand caressing your torso as he watched the slow rise and fall of your chest. You seemed so peaceful, so different from the wild storm you were in your everyday life. Though, he could still see the remnants of that written on your exposed back, the marks of a life lived fully. There were some faded old scars, at least one he recognized from back in New Japan, but there were also newer ones, ones he didn’t know the story of, and at least one you had told him about. The two thick lines stretching on your spine, one of them as long as the palm of his hand, the other the size of his thumb. Kenny wondered if they hurt still, and he wished he could be there to help. A small and stupidly hopeful voice in his head whispering how it wished he could be here to help in the future.

Before that voice can take hold, and before his aching heart makes him suffer again, Kenny snuggles closer to you. He seeks the peace your presence brings, the comfort of your warmth against his heavy body. You stir slightly but don’t move away, and he knows that maybe he shouldn’t be doing this, but he doesn’t care, locking you in his embrace as he did so many years ago. It’s almost like you fit better now, and he buries his face in your hair, your scent taking over his senses as Kenny closes his eyes and falls asleep again. This time, sleep doesn’t evade him, Morpheus' grip plunging him into the most peaceful darkness.

An annoying ringing noise pulls you out of your calm sleep, the insistent sound breaking you out of your comfortable dreams and back to the world of the living. It still continues as your eyes try to adjust to the soft light surrounding you. It was your phone, you could tell, lost somewhere just close enough that you could hear it. From the faint sound you knew it was in the pocket of your pants, but where were those? With a sad grunt, you fight to lift your heavy body, the weight diminishing when Kenny’s arm slides away from you.

Shit, Kenny. Sitting up, you glance down at your body to see the marks on the underside of your breast. Yeah, that tracks. Looking back, you see Kenny stirring in his sleep, the ringing probably already waking him up too. Oh, yes, your phone. You look around to see its screen shining through the fabric of your sweatpants on the ground, near the foot of the bed. Pulling it out, you see Nick’s name on the screen, and when you put the phone to your ear, his voice comes through loud and clear.

“Hey sleeping beauty, why the hell aren’t you answering your door? I mean, at least you aren’t dead in your hotel room or something,” you hear Nick say with only a tinge of exasperation, booming voice holding a humorous tone.

“Shit, Nick, I’m so sorry,” you respond, rubbing your eyes as you feel movement behind you. “I’m gonna meet you real soon,” you say the words as a hand gently touches your back.

“Yeah, yeah, you know you are making me late for breakfast, right?” As Nick talks, you turn to look to the side, seeing Kenny sitting up in the bed, his blue eyes trailed on your form. He is so close to you that you are sure he can hear Nick’s loud voice through the speaker. “Matt’s already waiting downstairs. Anyway, why aren’t you just opening the door?”

“Listen,” you begin, but your words are interrupted by a mischievous laugh on the other end of the line. 

“You aren’t in your hotel room, are you?” 

The question comes with malice and you see Kenny’s eyebrows raise, blue eyes looking to the side. Oh, yeah, he had heard that alright. You try to find an answer to give Nick, words failing you for a long moment as you begin to speak, opening your mouth but no sound coming out. It’s never easy to explain to people that you hooked up with your ex. Though, you don’t need to, Nick’s voice coming through the line again quickly, letting the silence last for only just that moment.

“Oh, you,” he snickers and you shake your head, eyes dropping to the covers as you sigh. “Is that why you didn’t answer our messages last night? Matt wanted to know how Kenny was doing, you know that,” his voice drops a little, the mischief dissipating from his words by the end of the sentence. Though, before you can react, he pauses for a heavy moment, and you know he is putting two and two together. “Wait, you were at Kenny’s yesterday, and he wasn’t answering last night either. Don’t tell me…”

Nick laughs, and you feel Kenny’s large hand dropping from your back. You look at him again and you can’t be sure if he heard everything, but his expression shows you that he at least understood what was going on. With another sigh, you pat his thigh through the covers in a reassuring gesture, shaking your head as you hear the dying laughter before finally answering.

“Ugh, come on Nick, don’t act like a teenager” you try to be stern, shoulders dropping as you rub your temple. “I’m gonna get going and be there soon.”

“Hey, chill, I’m not judging you or anything,” your answer comes in a calmer tone, a kinder one too and you can tell he is genuine. “I’m not ratting on you right now either, but Matt’s gonna find out soon enough on his own, I’m sure you know that,” your eyes glance at Kenny as Nick speaks and you know he is right, it’s not like you feel ashamed or anything, but you are glad Nick knows this isn’t his life to be talking about. “Anyway, just get your ass over here quick so we can go on with the day, alright. Love you, dumbass.”

“Yeah, yeah, love you too. And thanks, man,” you respond quietly, a small smile on your lips.

“Hey, you are a big girl, you can make your own choices. I will pester the living shit out of you about that though,” and there it was, the limits of his maturity, but you could live with that, he had earned the right to annoy you by now. “See ya soon.”

Kenny watched you talking on the phone, apprehension starting to creep to the back of his mind as he fought to keep it away. Part of him wondered what this meant, the other arguing that it didn’t matter, if he was so afraid of the outcome he shouldn’t have jumped in at the start. But he did, so there was no use overthinking it now. When you pulled the phone away from your ear, you crashed back on the bed, a long groan leaving your lips as Kenny laughed quietly at the sight. He took the chance to caress your hair, smiling when you hummed at the touch,

“Nick?” He asked, his fingers tangling into your soft locks.

“Yeah, he wants me back in the hotel asap,” you replied, disappointment in your voice. “Ugh, so much for wanting some morning sex, I guess.”

You leaned into his hand, and Kenny laughed at the dramatic pout on your face. The  early morning sun shining through the curtains bathed the room in a soft light that made your skin glow, the shine of your sleepy eyes feeling like it was inviting him in. It made him brave enough to lean into you, lips capturing your own in a tender kiss. His heavy heart sang with joy when you responded to his gentle touch, your hand coming to his face, caressing his warm skin. Sure, he would have liked that morning sex too, but he would take whatever victory he got.

When your lips parted, you got up, taking a quick shower before dressing up and getting ready to leave. Kenny offered to make you breakfast, even though he knew you’d refuse, but he still tried anyway. But this time, when he offered to give you a ride, you accepted - a surprise that despite being small, painted a smile on his face, he knew very well you weren’t one to accept any help easily. So he drove you to the hotel, dropping you at the entrance before driving home again. He had things to do and he didn’t want to encroach on your space. It would be better to leave you alone for now, no matter how much he missed your touch already.

The minute Kenny was back in his room, his body dropped heavy like lead on the bed. Everything smelled like you, and fuck, he couldn’t get enough of it. He wanted his bed to smell like that forever, even though he knew it was impossible. Burying his face in the pillow you had slept on, Kenny could already feel the turmoil brewing in the back of his mind, feelings pushing to the surface even as he tried to keep them down. But damn, his heart was putting up a fight, kicking up a storm in his chest as it fluttered at the memory of your touch, your taste, the heat of your body pressed against his own. He was acting like a hopeless romantic, and he wasn’t quite sure if that was a good thing. But he was pretty fucking certain he couldn’t stop his heart, even if he tried.

sponsored by: @xladyxfatex @wanderbreadsworld @madds-97 @morgan-bucks @tahiri-veyla @slut4kennyomega @of-twilight-and-moonshadow @himbos-hotline @moondust-imagines @madqueenpartna @adriswrld

#kenny omega #kenny omega x reader #kenny omega smut #kenny omega imagine #aew smut #btw yes the today is gonna be the day part is supposed to be read like it's sung in wonderwall

[understand-that-i-love-you-not]

"I have brought you, a gift"

[Context where your boyfriend Nikolai came to pay your house a visit at 11:00PM] You arrived home from work, and headed straight from the shower, something to ease your head after a day of hard work.

You arrived home from work, and headed straight from the shower, something to ease your head after a day of hard work.

You then clothed yourself with a towel, walking out of the shower. Proceeding to blow dry your hair.

...until you heard a sound of tumbling

"Ow ow ow..."

Hearing the sound of a voice, it seems to be an intruder, just outside of your room, you snatched the nearest object you can use for a weapon near you.

"Who's there?" You attempted to ask, calmly Opening the door from inside your bedroom.

"Ow shit shit...shiiit" There you saw a man wearing a white top hot, and a wide, pure white cape draped on his back he was putting the items back on the shelves, which gave you a sigh of relief.

It was your psychopathic lover...Nikolai

"Nikolai! You scared the shit out of me"

"Ahh there is my love, Y/n and...her very striking attire, were you preparing for my arrival love?"

Nikolai looked you up and down, then to your eyes while he was still crouched down.

Your face flushes of red, you completely forgot about your cloth less self. "Ah god, look away! and don't come in here I'm gonna change..." You rush to your bedroom

Nikolai lets out a chuckle "as you say so dearest" He was completely adored by your surprised and embarrassed face, though he respects your privacy so he let's you free.

...

"You can come in now" There you stand in front of your tall mirror, brushing your hair. "Pardon me milady" You see Nikolai's tall figure enter

He walks towards you and pauses for a moment, looking into your figure with a small smile

"Stop staring" you said jokingly with a smile.

"Then stop being so adorable dove"

Nikolai then hugs you from behind, snaking his arms on your waist, proceeding to kiss your cheek, from your ear to behind it. He locked his head on your neck for a while, relishing your scent.

You then lean your head towards his lightly, giving it a kiss, while holding his arms that are locked to your body.

"Now then!" He suddenly jumps, which took you by surprise

"Quiz timeee! Why did I come to visit Y/n's house??"

Nikolai's usual silly demeanor is back, which is the one you loved dearly of course.

Now that you think about it, why did Nikolai came barging into your home?"

"There are two answers to that!! First hint!: Its because I missed you" he whispered answer to the first question to you.

"And second!! I have a gift for you!!- AH! I let out the answer by mistake!!" Nikolai scrambles in place.

You laughed genuinely at your boyfriend's "clumsiness"

"Nikolai...well you didn't have too"

"Oh yes i needed too!" Nikolai insists. From his coat, he then pulled out a fresh bouquet of red Chrysanthemums [Love and Passion]

"Nikolai..." Your cheeks matched the color of the flowers he held with one hand

"These are...very beautiful" you take the flowers, admiring their decoration.

"I just thought the red suited you, especially when it matches your cheek" he pokes your right cheek, pulling his tongue out with a wink

You chuckle lightly from Nikolai's actions, but felt very warm from his intimate gift.

You came closer to Nikolai, setting his gift on your table, pulling him into a hug.

"I love you so much you didn't have to get me something. You mean so much to me..."

you pulled away, your arms clinging to his neck.

He then wrapped his on your waist His face grew softer at your words, you removed his card-like eyepatch, revealing his beautiful emerald eye color, placing your hand on that side of his cheek.

This surprised Nikolai a little, but let's you do your thing, he trusts you enough with what you're doing.

"Am I that captivating my love?" He jokingly asked

"Yes Nikolai you are"

He stares at your lips for a moment, asking for permission without words, you looked back at him softly giving him the go signal.

He leaned to kiss you, capturing your perfect lips on his. Kissing back you pulled him closer by the neck, deepening the kiss.

...

Currently Nikolai lays his head on your lap, while you sit comfortably on your bed that you both currently shared, peacefully watching a movie ... [I'm sorry for the not much thought ending (⁠´⁠；⁠ω⁠；⁠｀⁠)]

#bungo stray dogs x reader #nikolai x y/n #nikolai gogol x reader #nikolai x reader #bungo stray dogs fluff #bsd x reader #bsd x y/n #nikolai x you

[roosterbruiser]

𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐞 ☾☽ 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐕.𝐈𝐈

☾☽ 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐲 "𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫" 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐰 𝐱 𝐅𝐚𝐲𝐞 "𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫" 𝐋𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐫

☾☽ 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: It’s been almost three years since the accident that took half of her, and Faye “Clover” Ledger seems fine, really. She loves her old house, she has a perpetually expanding vinyl collection, she’s got a job she likes on base, and she is only a short drive from the beach. She’s grounded--literally. Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw feels like he’s been homesick his entire life. He’s always on the move;  jumping from one squadron to another, living one mission to the next. Somewhere in between losing both his parents and carving a successful career as a Naval aviator, he’s never found himself a home. When a call to serve on a high-priority mission with an elite squadron brings Rooster back to Miramar, he finds that home. Except it’s not a house that he finds--it’s the former backseater that observes and records the mission for the Official Navy Record. 

☾☽ 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

☾☽ 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

☾☽ 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞.𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟕𝐭𝐡, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏

“Tell me what you’re feeling, baby,” he commands. 

“Pressure,” I mutter, “burning.” 

He holds my hand tight--maybe tighter than he ever has before, tight like he’s afraid I’m fading. But I’m not--I’m achingly here, in this sore body as my daughter tries to untether herself from me. 

“Almost there, okay? Doing great, baby, just sit tight for me. Sit tight, baby.”

Sit tight. I hate sitting tight.

“I’m trying,” I whimper. 

He squeezes my hand. I know, baby. I know.   

Like I bumped into a switch, the pain begins again. There is no steady incline anymore, it’s just an immediate shock, reaching its peak quicker than I can even fill my lungs. 

Moaning, I sway my hips, desperate for some sort of relief from this pressure bearing so low and deep. It doesn’t help--it still feels like my whole body is going to be turned inside out, still feels like I’m going to wither away right here. 

“Do I need to pull over?” He asks this without wavering--urgent, but serious. 

“Just get there,” I moan, shaking my head. “Please.” 

I don’t even feel like myself--this pain has made me someone else, someone that is only a shell of Faye. Maybe this is when it starts; when the person I have been my entire life disconnected from who I’m about to become.  

“You tell me if we need to pull over, okay?” 

What he means is: he’ll deliver the baby himself if that’s what I need him to do. 

My spine tingles. No, no. I just want to get to the hospital, just want this to be over, just want even an edge to be taken off this pain. I just want to be done.  

“S’not in the birth plan,” I groan, burying my face in the seat. 

Even my lips are quivering.

“Fuck the birth plan,” he says, scoffing and squeezing my hand. “Fuck the playlist, too. It was mainly Bruce Springsteen anyway. Just gonna do what you need, okay? And if you need me to pull over, Faye-baby, I’ll fucking do it. I’ll do whatever you need me to do.” 

Oh, God. We haven’t followed the birth plan at all, the one we printed out and made copies of. I haven’t done any of my lamaze or affirmations. I haven’t been munching on ice chips and sipping pedialyte. There hasn’t been low lighting and soft rock playing. It’s all been a blur, every single bit of it. To think about pulling over, to think about Bradley delivering our first child on the side of the road in my car, it makes my tongue dry. 

That’s when I start crying again.

“I’m really scared,” I sob, “I’m really--fuck, oh, God--I’m-I’m, I don’t wanna have a baby in the car. Please, please, please don’t let me have her in the car, Bradley!” 

I know I sound like a child, I know it. But I can’t help it. I need to be soothed. I am a motherless child about to become a mother. And it feels like it’s going to happen right here, right now. 

“Faye, s’alright, take a deep breath. C’mon, take a breath.” 

The breath I take even hurts as it stretches my lungs. It’s a sopping and pathetic thing, quivering in my mouth. 

“Atta girl, good girl,” he soothes, “you’re gonna be just fine, alright? We’re so close, baby--just a couple minutes. Everything’s gonna be just fine. I won’t let anything happen to either of you, baby. Promise it, okay? Promise.” 

I’m in the middle of another contraction when he opens the passenger door in the hospital parking lot. He doesn’t try to interrupt it, doesn’t try to move me, doesn’t ask me to get out of the car. He leans down, kisses the top of my head, presses against my back in a desperate attempt to alleviate pressure. 

“Good girl,” he whispers against my scalp, barely audible above my low moans, “we made it, baby.”

I know he’s relieved. Entirely, thoroughly, completely relieved that he did not have to deliver olive on the side of the road.  

We leave the bags in the car. 

He tries to hurry us without dragging me along while I try to catch my breath, try to do anything except live from one endless contraction to the next, try to feel the November breeze all around me. But I feel like an ember glowing red-hot in the darkness all around us, feel like I’m going to collapse before we even make it to the entrance. 

He’s holding my waist, letting me lean against him, holding all the weight I give him. 

“Good job, baby,” he says, “almost there, so close. S’all good, we’re almost there.”

“Oh,” I cry, an unbearable pressure growing between my legs.

I want to stop--want to stop right here and make everyone come to me. But I can’t--I have to keep moving, even with the pressure, even with the agony.

“Need to stop?”

Shaking my head, I suck my bottom lip between my teeth and bite down hard enough to taste salt and metal. 

“My hero,” he mumbles, kissing my temple.

Just before we walk through the automatic doors, just before we come into this hospital as expectant parents, I tilt my head back and open my eyes for what feels like the first time since getting out of the car. There they are, just like they always have been and will be: stars. They’re twinkling, dazzling, hung very high up above in the onyx sky. 

And even though I feel like I’m being ripped apart, even though I feel like I’m about to be split in half; I feel like everything’s going to be okay. It’s a waxing crescent moon and these are the same stars Maggie looked at. This sky knows me and very soon, my daughter too. 

It feels like everything is moving at hyperspeed.

As soon as we’re through the doors of the hospital, there are a million hands on me. My temperature is being taken, my blood pressure checked, my pulse measured. I’m being pushed down into a wheelchair and wheeled down a white-washed hallway. I’m under bright fluorescents and being asked questions I can’t answer. And then we’re finally--finally--in a hospital room and I can stand up, lean against the bed, sway my hips. My eyes are still screwed closed--I don’t even know what the hospital room looks like. I don’t know how many people are in the room, but it feels like too many. I just want it to be me and Bradley, who’s holding tightly to my hips. 

“First baby?” Someone--a woman--asks. She doesn’t sound panicked--she sounds jovial. Bitch. Fucking bitch. 

“Yeah,” Bradley says, sounding tired and excited and scared, “does it show?” 

There’s a chorus of laughter as machines clatter and latex gloves snap. I was right--there are too many people in here. And even with my eyes shut, I know it’s too bright. And that awful stench is in here--like it’s so filthy that they’re masking the scent with intense cleaner and bleach. It smells sick. 

“Still alive?” Bradley coos, tucking my hair behind my ears. 

I still can’t open my eyes. I can’t move my forearms from the bed, can’t speak. 

“Barely,” I mutter.

“Doing great, baby,” he soothes, “incredible, really. They’re talking about naming a wing in the hospital after you.” 

If I could do anything except grind my teeth, I’d laugh. 

“Alright, Miss Faye, we’re gonna take real good care of you. Vitals are looking real good, just the way we like ‘em. I’m Nurse Reese and my trusty pal there is Nurse Kidrick,” a soft, feminine voice says beside me. “Dr. Sandoval is on her way up now, shouldn’t be long ‘til she’s here.” 

I nod, swaying endlessly.

“How you feel, honey?” 

There are a million words I could say right now, none of them pretty. 

“Close,” I mutter because it’s true. I feel very, very close. 

More laughter--like something is funny. Maybe something is funny and I don’t know because I am so outside of my body, so blind to anything else but pain. 

“We’ll check on that in just a minute.”

Bradley’s warm breath fans across the back of my neck.  

“So, mama--think you have it in you to change into a gown or are we getting down and dirty?” The very jovial woman asks. I think she’s Nurse Kidrick--Nurse Reese’s trusty pal. 

She lays a hand in the middle of my back; even through her latex gloves, her hand is very warm--but my skin is hot, burning hot.

“And dad--was mama wanting an epidural?” Nurse Reese asks. 

Our birth plan--we planned on one, if that’s what I wanted. But I can hardly sit still. I think it would be entirely impossible to sit still long enough for it to be administered. I think I have passed a certain point of no return, too--this pressure bearing down is too consuming to be numbed. I feel too close and I don’t know how I know, but I do know it. 

“What do you say, baby?” Bradley asks quietly, rubbing my back. “Ball’s in your court.”

I just shake my head. No, no epidural.

“You sure, honey? Hardest part is yet to come,” Nurse Reese says.  

My throat is dry. 

I could do without hearing how difficult it’s going to be from everyone. 

“She said no. She’ll just stay in her sweatshirt, too,” he tells them, his voice even and steady. I open my mouth to thank him, even if it’s just mutely, but all that comes out is a strangled moan--the pressure is overbearing, overwhelming, cruel. Bradley’s palms are warm when he lets them rest on my back, thumbs pressing into the bottom of my spine most pleasantly. “Can someone check her now, please? She said she feels close.” 

It makes my heart stutter--listening to him advocate for me, listening to him be my voice when I can’t use mine.  

“It’s like you know my next move! Let’s get you on the bed, honey,” Nurse Kidrick says, squeezing my shoulder.

The thought of moving, of climbing onto the bed, of lying on my back nauseates me.

All I can do is shake my head, sucking in a labored breath. 

Bradley sighs, combing his fingers through my hair.  

“She’s really only comfortable if she’s moving,” he tells them, pressing into my hips again. “How can we do both?” 

He’s such a leader, even when he’s vulnerable, even when he’s excited--obsessive about preservation and comfort. It makes my heart throb, makes me want to swoon despite everything. 

The nurses say nothing for a moment. All I can hear is the blood rushing in my ears. 

“I can hold you,” he tells me very seriously. “Can you do that, baby?” 

I lean back wordlessly, finally straightening my spine, and he wraps his arms around me. He’s solid behind me, more solid than anything I’ve ever leaned on in my life. His arms are strong, strong enough to hold ten of me and olive. And I just lean against him, just try to keep my breaths even despite how shallow they feel. He hooks his arms beneath my armpits, secures me against him. This is good--this feels good. I like to be held by him, like to lay my head on his shoulder and let him keep me upright. He’s so very good at it--always has been. 

One of the nurses takes my pants off, but I’m so far past the point of caring that I would be pantsless in front of the whole world and not even blink. Then they’re nudging my legs apart and I’m giving more weight to Bradley, trying to hold still when another contraction begins. 

“Atta girl,” Bradley whispers to me, “doing great, baby. Just perfect.”

The pressure is not something I feel like I’m going to live through--it’s too much, far too much. It’s so bad that it makes me want to bear down, makes me want to just push and push until I’m done and everything’s over. 

There’s a glove between my legs, pressing up and up until I gasp out. 

“Oh--you weren’t kiddin’. Close is right! Nurse Reese, would you please tell Dr. Sandoval that we’re gonna be delivering a baby in the next ten minutes with or without her?”

It prickles my skin, slaps me across the face. 

In the next ten minutes, our baby is going to be born. 

Bradley squeezes me. His heart is racing--I’m sure he’s flushed, too. He presses kisses to my temple, my cheeks. 

“Well, you sure don’t waste time, do you?” Nurse Kidrick laughs.

Something is gnawing on my brainstem--something between thought and feeling, something smarting and utterly true. It washes over me like a rainstorm. 

“Think I have to--oh, God, I think I have to push,” I cry, burying my nails in Bradley’s hands, leaning against him. 

It’s a blur: Bradley sitting on the edge of the bed and pressing my back against his chest, securing my body tight. The contractions never-ending, the pressure to push becoming almost impossible to suppress. The nurses running around, getting blankets, getting suction, getting the doctor in there. Spreading my legs, gripping my thighs, gritting my teeth. Trying to hear anything except my own heartbeat, trying to feel Bradley’s lips on the top of my head, trying to breathe. 

And I want to meet my daughter and I want to be a mother, but I’m afraid. I’m afraid that things are going to be irreversibly different and that this is the last moment in my life I’ll ever just be Faye. And I’m scared to raise a daughter without my mother and my sister. And I’m scared to rip in half and bleed out. And I’m scared that Jake is really, really hurt and things won’t ever be the same for him. I can’t say any of it, though, can’t do anything except moan and throw my head against Bradley’s shoulder. 

“Good to see you two--Faye, Bradley! Let’s make this the Bradshaw part of three, huh?”

Even with my eyes screwed shut, I know that it’s Dr. Sandoval speaking to me. She has a very deep and velvety voice, which is muffled by a mask now. I like her--I’ve always liked her. But right now I just want everything to be over and done with. And I’m tired of everyone being so chirpy--it certainly doesn’t feel like there’s anything to be chirpy about. 

“Vitals are great, no sign of infection, and her water broke at approximately seven o’clock,” Nurse Kidrick tells Sandoval. “She came in fully dilated! Barely made it!” 

There’s more conversation, but it’s drowned out when another contraction swallows me. Each one is begging me to push, bearing down low, threatening to slice me wide open. I need to--I want to, I have to. It’s just something that is. 

“Ohh,” I moan, shaking my head, biting my lip hard. 

There’s commotion and I think everyone is settling between my legs, think everyone is getting things ready for olive, think everyone is preparing themselves. 

“I know that sound,” Dr. Sandoval says. “Go on and push if you feel the urge, Faye.”

“Mama’s comfortable?” Nurse Reese asks. “This how she wants to push?” 

Bradley nods. 

“Have to,” I say, my fingers shaking.   

“Just lean into it, baby,” Bradley tells me, his breath warm. “Listen to your body.” 

God, if I wasn't in so much blinding pain, I’d laugh. Of course he knows exactly what to say; he’d better have after all the reading he did. 

But I do lean into it, I do listen to my body. I can’t do anything but. It’s just something that’s happening. And the pressure is growing, growing, growing. It’s all happening now, only ten minutes after we got to the hospital, only a few hours after my water broke. Only a few hours after we found out about Jake in North Carolina. And God, we haven’t heard anything from Admiral Byron and he was supposed to call my number, he was supposed to keep us updated on Jake--

“Focus, baby,” Bradley says quietly, kissing my cheek. If I could hold my own weight, I know he’d bring his hand to my face and smooth the crease between my brows. “C’mon, s’alright. Everything’s gonna be just fine. C’mon now--push, baby.” 

A cry rips from my throat--it’s raw, doesn’t sound like me. It pierces everyone’s ears I’m sure, that pitiful sound.  

“Good,” Dr. Sandoval praises, “keep going, keep going, keep going!” 

So I do--I hold my breath, push, ignore the searing burn.

It’s worse than getting ripped in half. It’s worse than ejecting from an F-18 and getting a concussion and broken ribs and slicing my jaw and bursting my eardrum and frost bite on my fingers and bruised vocal cords and a dislocated shoulder and a sprained wrist. It’s if someone held all that pain under a magnifying glass beneath the California sun, let it catch fire, let it all burn and wither away in a hot gust of wind. But it doesn’t hurt more than reaching the ground, doesn’t hurt more than seeing Maggie there waiting for me, her eyes wide open and unseeing. This pain is one of life--I know that. I can tell. It is a serious pain because it is going to be a serious life. 

“You’re doing it, you’re doing it!” Bradley says, lips attached to the shell of my ear. “C’mon, baby, keep going! Good job, good job!”

It’s strange--strange that this is the last time olive will be attached to me, kept entirely safe by the armor of my body. All this skin and fat and muscle and tissue that held her will never hold her again, not on the inside, not where she grew. 

“Oh,” I exhale, face hot as a kettle. I rest against Bradley’s shoulder, gulping air, trying to fill my lungs. “Mmm.” 

He’s peppering my face in kisses, the nurses are patting my thighs like they would a trusty dog, Sandoval has her hand pressed against my heat. So many people are touching me, so much is happening.

“You’re doing perfect, baby,” Bradley says, his voice teary as he brushes hair off my forehead. “M’so proud of you. Almost there, okay? Almost done.” 

This is how it goes. My feet are firmly planted on the ground, my nails permanently embedded in Bradley’s thighs, my eyes sealed shut. I’m holding my breath and pushing, moaning and throwing my head back against Bradley’s shoulder. He’s kissing my face, telling me how good I am, how perfect I’m doing. The nurses are holding my thighs and I feel like I’m genuinely being shredded. And it smells like a hospital in here so badly that it makes me ache all over.

“Take a breath,” Bradley says, pushing my hair off my face, stroking my hot cheek. “You’re doing so fucking great, baby. Take a breath. Breathe, baby.” 

The air in my lungs feels wet with sweat. 

“Good job, mama!” Nurse Reese says, rubbing my thigh. 

Nurse Kidrick echoes her statement, patting my calf. 

I feel like a farm animal. 

“So close,” Dr. Sandoval promises, her gloves bloodied. “Gimme everything you’ve got!” 

I am giving her everything I’ve got. It’s an overwhelming urge, something that I’m not even sure that I have control of. It feels like the hardest thing I’ve ever done and also something my body is doing on autopilot. 

“Trying,” I whimper, shaking my head as tears roll down my cheeks. 

I am so exhausted--so tired that I think I could fall asleep on a bed of rusty nails.

Bradley kisses my temple when I fling my head into his chest again, chest heaving, body on fire, cheeks swollen and red. His face is wet too--I don’t think he can help crying. It would be strangely dismal to watch the love of your life in agony to usher in a new, precious life.

The tears on my cheeks are fat now--if I had even an ounce more of energy, I would allow myself the luxury of sobbing openly. But I don’t--so I just lay my head there, try and catch my breath, and let the tears roll rapidly down my face. 

“You’re so close, keep going!” Kidrick exclaims. 

Bradley tenses beneath me. 

“Give her a second,” Dr. Sandoval says before Bradley can. “Let’s get her some water.”

One of the nurses brings a straw to my lip--I can hardly get myself to swallow the icy water, but I do it, collapsing into Bradley again. He strokes my hair carefully, kissing my temple again.

“Babies always come out, honey. Okay?” I think it’s Nurse Kidrick that says this, still sounding jovial as ever. 

Now I wish that Maggie was here vehemently. She would’ve been the one holding my thigh instead of Nurse Kidrick and she wouldn’t be so chirpy while I’m in the throes of labor. And if she heard Nurse Kidrick say that to me, she’d snort something bitter at her before I’d even have a chance to process her tone. 

“No shit,” I whisper, voice haggard and hardly audible.  

“You just lean on me, Faye-baby,” Bradley soothes, nuzzling his nose against me. “S’okay to cry, I know s’hard. Almost through, I promise. Almost finished.”

It is only a few minutes later that it happens.     

That little baby that was the size of an olive when I found her, that little baby that kicked Bradley’s cheek on the beach in California, that little baby that came and then stayed, that little baby that likes tea, that little baby that hiccupped and startled--they’re born at 11:59PM, slipping from my body with a final gush.

An immediate, overwhelming emptiness floods my being. I feel the precise moment that she detaches from me, separating our bodies forever. It’s the closest I’ve ever been to anyone since Maggie. 

“Oh, my God!” Bradley cries. “You did it, baby! You did it!”

My chest is heaving. My legs are shaking. 

“I did it,” I whisper, hardly audible to even my own ears.

My ears are ringing, temple pounding. Bradley’s laughing through his tears in shock, I think--kissing my face all over, never minding the sweat or tears. He’s grinning, happier than I’ve seen him all day.

“M’so fucking proud of you,” he promises. “Oh, baby, I love you s’much.”

That emptiness is freezing my fingertips. I’m not even sure my voice works anymore. It’s like a bomb went off beside my ear, shattered my body, rendered me voiceless.    

“Open your eyes, open your eyes!” Nurse Reese says, patting my thigh. 

I didn’t even realize that my eyes were closed. I do open them--and there they are, my baby. They’re a tiny, red little thing, squirming in Dr. Sandoval’s gloved hands, tiny mouth wide open. They have hair--a whole head of it. And they’re the smallest thing I’ve ever seen, glistening beneath the harsh fluorescents.  

“Oh my God,” Bradley says tearfully, kissing my temple again despite the sheen of sweat. “Oh, you did it, baby. You did it. You did so fucking perfect, baby. Oh my God!”

Dr. Sandoval doesn’t give me a choice--she reaches up and thrusts the baby into my arms. And I reach for them, pulling them up to rest on my sweatshirt covered chest, putting my palm against their head and neck and it is so strange. I think I’m in shock when their skin touches mine for the first time, when I feel that slick and soft body that I made and protected. I hold them against me, against the UVA sweatshirt that will probably be stained forever, tuck their head close to my chin. 

“C’mon,” Nurse Kidrick coos, rubbing the baby’s back, “give us a wail, honey.” 

They haven’t cried yet--God, they haven’t cried yet. 

I pat their back, blinking rapidly at the lights, at the blood on the tile, at my wobbly legs, at Dr. Sandoval kneeling between them and patting my knee.

Bradley reaches around, gives a few soft pats against their little back, coos something that I can’t hear over the blood rushing in my ears. 

“C’mon, sweet thing,” he tells them. “C’mon, let us hear it.” 

There it is--a piercing wail, one that just needed a moment. They just needed their dad to pat their back. And when I hear it for the first time, it sounds like my sister’s laugh; it sounds like those few fleeting moments of amplified static before a record starts. Like it is winding up to something bigger, like the silence is full of sound. They’re bawling--howling--into the air in this big hospital room, taking those first sweet breaths outside the womb. 

“Oh, there we go!” Nurse Kidrick exclaims, petting my hair. Her hand is still warm. “Only time you’ll wanna hear them cry, I bet!”

Nurse Reese quickly puts a pink and blue striped cotton blanket over me and olive, covers their naked body, squeezes my arm. 

“Good job, mama! Congratulations!” 

Bradley’s shaking behind me--weeping, I think. His tears are wetting my hair, his breaths wet and deep. He’s holding their back, stroking their wet skin, sniffling. 

“M’so fucking proud of you,” he praises, pressing sopping kisses to my hair and face as he sets his chin on my shoulder. “Oh my God, m’so happy, baby. Y’alright, y’okay?” 

He’s still holding me upright. My body is aching. I’m still contracting. I’m so fucking tired. My heart hurts. I wish my sister was here. And I really need Jake to be okay. But above all of that, above all the whirlwind hours we’ve lived through, I’m so fucking happy. Blindingly, stupidly happy.  

And it makes me burst into tears as I bring my lips down onto the wet hair of that precious, precious baby. My baby--my child. The first and most precious thing my body has ever made from pure, unadulterated love. Even those cries--they’re sweet. They’re perfect. 

“Hey you,” I whisper to them, tears pouring down my cheeks and onto their hair. “My little hiccup-er. Hi, sweet thing.”

“Congratulations! Glad you two made it in time,” Dr. Sandoval says, still muffled behind her mask. Her honey-colored eyes are crinkled, though--she’s smiling up at me, still on her knees in her black scrubs. “That’s a sweet baby, but goodness--they were in a hurry!” 

“Oh, you were,” I whisper to them, sniffling. “That’s okay, though. That’s alright--I was excited to meet you, too.”

Everything around us feels like white noise: the nurses shuffling around, Sandoval getting things situated, the 80s music playing at the nurses station just outside, a wailing ambulance, the flickering light in the hall, the crying, the wailing. All of the things that I hardly heard before with my eyes closed.

“Gosh, I usually ask this before, but we didn’t have the time! What are we gonna name this little girl?” 

My spine prickles. Bradley looks up at Nurse Kidrick and Nurse Reese with wide eyes, parted lips. As if we didn’t already know.   

“Wait, are they--is it a girl?” 

Nurse Kidrick is grinning. 

“It’s a girl!”

“I knew it,” I cry softly, stroking her hair. “I knew you.” 

I think I’ve known her all along.

Bradley is peppering my face with kisses, pulling me close to him, his strength not faltering once. 

“You did, baby. You’re perfect--you did so good, so fucking good. I love you, Faye,” he sobs, shaking his head. “We have a daughter!”

I can’t sleep. Even with this exhaustion that cuts to the bone, even though my eyes are aching beneath the bright lamplight, even though I feel like a washrag that’s been wrung and drained--I can’t close my eyes for even more than a minute. After all the excitement, all the measuring, all the blood, all the questions, all the praising, all the adjusting, all the moving, all the solving, all the tears, all the pictures, all the celebrating things are finally quiet now.  

It’s dark in here, the black night shining in from the bay window. There are machines and IV stands and an incubator dotted around the sprawling tile floor. The walls are a cream color with a Pepto Bismol-pink stripe running along. It’s really an ugly room, so big that it’s strange that it’s so empty, but it doesn’t bother me. This is the room where I gave birth to my first daughter and I love it for that alone, will dream of this place in terms of softness and longing. It’s a quiet room, our heavy door closed, the overhead lights turned off.  

It must be past three in the morning now, maybe even closer to four, but time feels like a silly thing right now. Time isn’t real in this big hospital room that smells too clean, on this bed with Bradley tucked beside me, in my linen pajamas. I’m warm because he’s wrapped around me and I’m nestled against his chest, the scratchy sheets pulled over us. 

If she wasn’t here against my chest, her swollen eyelids fluttered shut, then I would feel very empty still. I have held her weight with my body for such a long time, spanning out across almost an entire year. All even six pounds and eighteen inches of her. She’s in my arms now, a sweet and tiny thing that isn’t crying anymore. 

She’s sleeping, a quiet heaviness in my arms. Her little eyelids are fluttering softly, her fingers still and wrapped around Bradley’s finger. 

Bradley’s stroking my hair, which he’s been doing carefully and easily for the past few hours. He hasn’t stopped touching me at all--a hand on my hip, his forearm beneath my palms, hoisting me up with his arms around my waist, kissing my forehead. 

“So little,” I whisper--my voice is ragged from labor, tired and sagging. 

He hums and the vibrations of it on his chest ease a tense muscle in my chest, make it go slack with peace. 

“I think I’m in shock,” Bradley whispers, shaking his head. 

“Me too,” I return softly. 

He sighs, kisses my head, brings his hand down to softly cradle our daughter’s head. His hand looks so big, her head hardly even big enough to fill out his palm. And all that precious dark blonde hair, her whole head of it, is almost as tan as his skin. 

“You almost gave birth on the side of the road,” he says softly, his voice strained with disbelief and incredulity. “Baby, you almost gave birth on the side of the road.”

I’m too tired to laugh so I just smile. 

“Uh huh,” I whisper, “I was there.”

Achingly there. 

He chuckles, shaking his head. He’s stroking her forehead with that sweet thumb, a comforting and constant movement over her skin. 

“What was the rush, little lady? Couldn’t wait to meet us?”

Little lady. Our little lady. He says it very softly, his voice deep and whispered, husky and tired. I wish I could hear him with her ears; the love of a father, his words shining with devotion and awe. How lucky she is already to have him, to be stroked and touched by him.

“Jake’s never gonna live it down,” Bradley follows after a moment, chuckling dryly. 

“What?” I whisper, raising my eyebrow. 

He kisses my temple again. 

“Breaking your water,” he says softly. 

It makes me laugh--and God, it hurts to laugh. 

“S’gonna go straight to his head,” I whisper. 

He sighs--I can feel the smile tugging at his lips. 

But then a different kind of quiet falls over us, prickles our spines. Through all the picture taking and cooing and amazement, we haven’t checked our phones at all. And now we’re too busy holding our daughter, too busy memorizing her little face and gawking at her little fingernails. For all we know, I have a thousand missed calls from Admiral Byron. For all we know, Jake could be calling Bradley nonstop. It almost makes me sick to my stomach just to consider it. 

“Do you think he’s…” I’m not sure how to finish my sentence. So I just let it hang in the warm air. 

“S’okay,” Bradley whispers, pressing his nose into my cheek. “I’ll check our phones in a minute, okay? M’sure he’s just fine.” 

I have to crane my neck to look up at him, but when I do he’s already looking at me. Even in the shadows of this dark room, his eyes are wide and swimming--I think his pupils might even be heart-shaped. He’s smiling softly, his hair and mustache messy and endearing, his cheeks tear-stained and flushed. His hand stops moving--just lays to rest on the back of my head, fingers still and palm warm. 

“Hold her,” I whisper to him, nodding very small. 

His breathing hitches--his chest stutters, his mouth parts. He’s searching my face, looking for something to latch onto, but I just keep looking at his whiskey-colored eyes. They’re watery and glazed, very heavy. But he nods after a moment, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth. 

He hasn’t held her yet--no, not with all the excitement happening. She has been entirely in my arms from the moment she slipped from me and into this world. 

“Okay,” he says softly, blinking a few times. His brows furrow. “Are you sure?”

I would laugh any other time--my sweet pilot suddenly unsure and panicky at the sheer prospect of holding a tiny, six pound thing. But he’s trying to ground himself in the confines of my gaze, trying to pick out a piece of comfort from my half-shut eyelids and twitching lips. 

“So sure,” I say softly. “Like stupid, vapid sure.”

He smiles--a short and fleeting thing. He kisses me twice, patting the back of my head.

He carefully detangles himself from me, hesitantly placing his socked feet on the ground. At his full height, all that broad and tan muscle, he looks achingly good even for not having slept in close to twenty hours now. His clothes are wrinkled and unkempt, probably from bending around my frame--but it doesn’t take away even a fraction of his beauty.  

“Skin to skin, right?” He asks, like he doesn’t already know. He was the one who told me about the benefits of skin to skin as we brushed our teeth a few months ago. 

“Mhm,” I whisper.

The baby stirs. It is so strange that she is outside of my body now, so strange that I can watch her mouth move and her eyes flutter. But she’s here in my arms, a pale little thing with round cheeks and tiny heart-shaped lips that are the color of a primrose. She’s curled up into herself, even swaddled in the blanket I crocheted, just in a tiny diaper. 

Bradley leans over the bed, his sweatshirt discarded, his chest flooded with red. He kisses my temple again, squeezes my bicep. 

“Y’alright?” He asks for the thousandth time. 

I’m more alright than I’ve ever been, but also not okay at all. 

“Think so,” I whisper. “You ready?”

He nods--it’s a barely-there movement of his head, but I see it. 

He helps me sit up, taking all the weight I give him, whispering softly for me to take my time as he adjusts the pillows behind me. And then he hesitantly holds his hands out, towards her, towards our daughter. 

“Birthday girl,” I say softly, delicately ghosting my fingers over her plush cheek. 

She twitches--a quick tensing of her muscles that she hasn’t quite figured out yet. And then she whines behind her closed lips, a small and sweet sound that makes my chest ache. 

“God dammit, that was cute,” Bradley mutters, shaking his head. 

I put her in his arms very carefully--putting her little head in the crook of his elbow, letting her tiny body rest against his forearm, tucking her little blanket on my lap. 

“Like this?” He asks--like he wasn’t the only father-to-be in our parenting classes who knew to support the newborn doll’s head. 

I just nod, my arms feeling suddenly very empty, my body feeling very deflated. But how could I not smile, how could I not melt, seeing him stand beside my hospital bed with that tiny little thing against his skin? She’s so small--so small that I don’t even understand how she’s a real thing and not a doll. 

Bradley’s breathing is shallow, like he’s really trying to measure his breaths while he holds her. His arms are secure, but not too constricting as he holds her against him. He’s tense--I can see it from here, can see the stiffness of his shoulders, the crinkle between his brow. 

“Perfect,” I whisper, leaning against the mattress. “You’re a natural.”

She suddenly whines--a quiet and itty-bitty noise in her throat. But that’s enough to make his face change entirely; gone is the stress and the anxiety and in its place is a bleary-eyed grin. He moves carefully, holding her closer, relaxing his body. They melt into each other, her cheek against his chest, his hand over her little back. 

“Oh, baby,” Bradley whispers suddenly, glancing down at me with wide eyes. “I love her so much. Like I really, really love her.”    

A fist squeezes my gushing heart--overwhelms me entirely. Tears prickle my eyes and my lips are warm and swollen, my fingers very warm as they wrap around my daughter’s body. God, my whole body feels it when I cry: my aching cunt, my throbbing breasts, my empty belly. It feels like my insides have been scooped out and heaved away, but I would choose--over and over and over again--to be here in this body right now.

“She’s pretty unbelievable,” I whisper, wiping my cheeks. 

Bradley is looking down at her, face awash with love. 

“She’s just the tiniest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” he whispers, shaking his head in disbelief. “Maybe we should name her Little Bit.”

“Little Bit Bradshaw,” I whisper, shaking my head. “A little on the nose, isn’t it?” 

He strokes her cheek softly, eyebrows knit. Her skin is the softest thing I’ve ever touched in my life, like softened butter or a conditioned feather. I know that’s what he’s thinking. 

“What is your name, little bit?” Bradley asks her.

He sinks into the chair beside the bed, reclining so her little body can rest between his pecs, holding his hands over her little diaper.

“Let me know if she tells you,” I whisper. 

He smiles.

When I throw my legs over the side of the bed and sink so my feet are touching the floor, he’s eyeing me carefully from his spot. I can feel the burn of his gaze, the knit between his brow, the spring just below his feet that’s only sequestered by our slumbering daughter. 

“You be careful now, baby,” he warns quietly. “Don’t overdo it. Why don’t you wait until I’m up and I can help you--?”

I’m not overdoing it. I stood up for the first time post-birth two hours ago, clinging onto Bradley’s forearms with Nurse Reese watching closely on standby. It’s difficult and I’m wobbly, but it isn’t impossible. 

“I’ve got it,” I whisper. “Promise I’ve got it.”

A jolt of pain wraps itself around my body when I let all my weight on my feet--pain deep enough to vibrate my spine, but nothing compared to the car ride to the hospital. 

“Y’okay? Y’arlight, baby?” 

Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I nod. 

“Just fine,” I whisper, shuffling towards him across the tiles. “Here.”

I lay the crochet blanket across them, carefully tucking it over her neck and across his bare arms. She’s sleeping very soundly, lulled by the beat of his heart and strength in his arms. 

Bradley’s looking up at me, chewing his bottom lip as I stroke the tufts of hair on the back of her head. Even her hair feels like a soft blanket or piece of cotton.  

“Did she tell you her name?” I ask, my voice thin.

He sighs, tucking his chin to his chest to look down at her slumbering form. 

“No,” he sighs, “she’s got a Hell of a poker face, too.”

Humming, I just nod. She is the best pain reliever I’ve ever had--all that ache fades and is replaced with unpitied warmth whenever I look at her cheek against his chest. 

“Pictures,” I whisper, shuffling over to our bags laid haphazardly in the corner. “Gotta take pictures.”

Bradley’s humming now, tucking his chin against his chest to just look at her, a fond smile tugging at his lips. He’s very softly stroking the back of her tiny neck with his thumb, making her twitch against him as she slumbers. How entirely relaxed she must be on her daddy’s chest. 

“I wanna have, like, ten of these things,” he mumbles, sighing.

My body aches in response as I dig through my purse, fishing past chapstick and tissue packets for my phone. 

“All those books and parenting classes and not one of them warned against saying that to me right now?” I mumble, shaking my head. 

He laughs. 

“You made it look easy,” he defends. I can feel his grin from here as he watches me pad around. “Rapid labor, surviving a forty-five minute car ride, pushing a baby out standing up? C’mon, it was nothing for you! Just another day for Faye Bradshaw.” 

I’m shaking my head, but I can’t fight the smile tugging at my lips. There’s a bubble of excitement in my chest, ready to burst. 

“Well, I feel like I got run over by a semi-truck,” I tell him, finally grabbing my phone.

“You’re the sexiest roadkill I’ve ever seen, then,” Bradley chortles quietly. 

I point my phone at him, my cheeks pink. 

“You really didn’t learn a thing in those classes, huh? Hey, baby--pop out nine more of my babies. You’re my little mangled raccoon.” 

Bradley’s biting his lip, a teasing gleam in his eyes. 

“Baby--please,” he starts, cocking a brow, “if you’re anything, you’re a squirrel. C’mon now!”

I have to bite my lip to keep from dignifying him with laughter. 

Then my phone vibrates. I look down at it and there they are: all those missed calls and text messages. It’s overwhelming really, how many there are. Almost seventy-four messages in the Dagger group chat, two missed calls from Bob, one from Phoenix, one from Javy. A few private texts from Bob, a couple from Penny. One missed call from Admiral Byron, I think. 

“Oh,” I breathe. 

“What is it?” 

“My phone,” I start softly, “I--there’s a lot of messages.” 

The Dagger group chat messages are mostly things that Bradley’s already read out loud to me, just everyone sending their well wishes to Jake and asking him to reach out if he needs anything. Jake hasn’t responded to any of the messages, though. Bob didn’t leave a voicemail, but both he and Penny messaged to ask if I was doing okay and asked if there was anything they could do. Javy said that he wouldn’t be able to get leave. No voicemail from Admiral Byron, though. 

It’s too late now--it’s 3:29 AM. So I pad back over to Bradley and the baby, take a few sweet pictures. It’s when I’m coming close to take a shot of his hand cradling her little head that it washes over me again: we have a daughter. The realization keeps occurring, keeps prickling my spine, keeps warming my fingers, keeps accelerating my heart. We have a daughter. I’m a mother. Bradley is a father. This is our baby.

“These are good,” I whisper, scrolling through the pictures. 

His first picture holding our daughter. Our nameless daughter. 

“I’ve got some good pictures of you on my phone,” he tells me, carefully snagging it from his pocket and handing it to me. 

His lock screen makes me smile: it’s a photo of me and him on my 29th birthday. I’m wearing his Hawaiian shirt, unbuttoned below my breasts so my belly sits out. I’m sitting on Bradley’s lap, my head tipped back in laughter and my cheeks flushed. He’s grinning at me, hand splayed over my belly, nose scrunched and cheek pressed against my chest. It’s sweet--it was a good birthday.

“Checking me out, Ledger?” 

I glance up at him. He’s smirking. 

“It’s Ledger-Bradshaw to you,” I whisper, unlocking his phone. 

He’s beaming at me, chuckling. It’s a good sound in this room that is otherwise just filled with odd beeps and distant rickety wheels and old music on the radio. 

There are a lot of pictures from today. Even a few sneaky ones I didn’t even notice--me in front of the fire, one my knees, rocking myself through a contraction. Me bent over the bed in the hospital room, clutching the sheets, eyes shut tight. Me with the sweatshirt tucked under my chin, still almost entirely naked, cradling the baby at my breast. Then there are the ones I posed for: me beaming at the camera with tears still rolling down my cheeks, holding our naked baby against me, flushed with utter joy; me finally in my linen pajamas, laying in the hospital bed with the baby tucked in my arms, my eyes very tired; me holding the baby’s nose up to mine, giving her our first ever nose kiss. 

I look tired, sure--but I also look ecstatic. I look so loved up that I couldn’t look put out if I tried, even if my eyes are closed or halfway there in most of the photographs. 

“Quite the photographer,” I whisper, scrolling through them again. 

He nods, leaning his head back against the chair. 

“Had to capture it all,” he says. “Think this has been the most precious night of my life.”

My heart stutters. Warmth floods me, coursing through me like a herd of wild hot-blooded animals. He’s right--that’s what this night was. It was terrifying and agonizing and difficult, but above all else it was precious. 

“Yes,” I whisper finally, trying to make my voice even. “Me too.”  

“You really are my hero,” Bradley says softly after a beat. “Not kidding around ‘bout that, baby.” 

Humming, I shake my head. 

“I’d do it again,” I tell him, which I think is true. “If it meant I could have a billion of those babies.”

I’m telling the truth--which makes the vein across my nose throb, makes my breasts feel even heavier, makes lightning strike my deflating belly. Stupid, stupid woman.  

He’s smirking--I know what he’s going to say before he says it. 

“Don’t,” I warn softly, yawning.

Bradley grins, yawning too. Bradley jolts suddenly, glancing down at the baby, his face awash with the gushiest expression of devotion I’ve ever seen.  

“She just fucking yawned,” he whispers, shaking his head in disbelief. “Oh, my God--Faye, I think my heart is genuinely going to explode.”

Frowning, I step closer. He reaches out without breaking his gaze from her slacked face and hooks his arm around my thigh, pulling me close.  

“I missed it,” I whisper.

Her first yawn and I was across the room--not even looking at her.  

“Yawning is much more common in newborns,” he tells me very seriously. “I’m sure it’ll happen again tonight, even. Don’t fret, baby.” 

The books. 

“Still not sure if you were made in a lab,” I mumble, rubbing my eyes. “Too perfect sometimes.”

He sighs, glancing up at me. There’s a smile tugging at his lips. He looks very prideful right now, like he has nowhere else in the world he would rather be than right here with this sweet baby in his arms in that terrible chair. 

“Mmm, let me show you my favorite picture, sleepy mama.” 

He scrolls for only a moment, squinting at the light of his phone, humming very softly. His thumb is still stroking the baby’s head very gently, a careful sweeping motion across her tiny neck and over her light hair. It’s already so second-nature for him, even if he’s distractedly searching through his phone’s gallery, even if he’s trying to show me something else.

When he hands the phone to me again, his cheeks are pink and his smiling lips are wet. Fuck, he looks beautiful here--even in this poorly lit hospital room with no sleep and messy hair and wrinkled clothes. 

“This one,��� he whispers, nodding. 

It knocks the breath out of my lungs when I take the phone into my hands. It’s the photographic equivalent to the calm after the storm: I’m lying in bed in my pajamas, the baby laid out before me on my thighs. I’m grinning at her, tears still rolling down my cheeks, but am none the wiser that Bradley was taking a picture. I look tired and lovesick--my eyes are drooping, my shoulders are sloped, my skin is flushed, my tears are fat, my lips are molded around my teeth, my chest is heavy, my hands are delicately grazing the baby’s belly.

“Why this one?” I ask as I lean over and stroke his hair. 

He lets the weight of his head press into my fingers, a low moan sounding in his throat. His hair is soft and unkempt--very soft beneath the pads of my fingers.  

“Y’look like a mom,” he whispers simply.

I do look like a mom: tired and lovesick.

“M’always gonna look like a mom now, I reckon,” I whisper to him. 

His smile is bright. 

“Lucky me.” 

My exhaustion is so thorough that even just combing through his hair makes me want to fall asleep standing up. That repetitive, sweeping motion and the soft locks between my fingers--it’s making my chest grow heavy.  

“Send a picture,” Bradley says suddenly, smiling up at me, his eyes teary. “Surprise everyone.”

It tickles me--the thought of everyone waking up to a picture of me holding a baby in a hospital room. Surely, Bob would call early in the morning anyway to check in on me and find out then if his sixth sense isn’t already tingling. And maybe this is what everyone needs after the fitful night of rest everyone surely got. Maybe it will even raise Jake’s spirits.  

So I do send a picture; one where I’m smiling and there’s not very much blood and the baby is still pink from birth. I caption it very simply: Here’s a 6lb, 18in surprise for your Monday morning! It’s a girl and she didn’t come with a name--all suggestions welcome! 

“Baby,” Bradley says quietly. 

I’m still swaying on my feet, brushing his hair. 

“Hmm?” I ask with my eyes closed. 

“Do me a favor and go to bed,” he says softly. “Not gonna be long until she needs another feed and you’ve gotta get some rest before then, okay, baby? I’ve got it--I’m gonna stay up. You just rest, alright? Sleep.”

“Pictures,” I just whisper to him, settling our phones on the arm of the chair. “Don’t wanna miss anything, okay? Please.” 

He turns his head swiftly, kisses my fingers, nuzzles his nose against my palm. 

“You have my word, Faye-baby. Sleep. You deserve it.” 

When I wake up, I’m not sure what time it is. There is yellow sunlight drenching the room, the plasticky curtains pulled back and tied to reveal the wispy clouds drifting across the cyan sky. There are those terrible hospital noises all around me still: the beeping, the monitoring, the crying, the music, the distant sound of a rumbling ice machine. 

I turn my cheek, squinting at the sun, and that’s when I realize it: I’m alone in the room. The chair beside the bed where Bradley had been just before I fell asleep is completely void of him or the baby, the only indicator of their presence the crochet blanket left in a heap on the cushion. 

Not only am I alone, but my chest is wet, my nipples throbbing. I’m leaking, have drenched the linen pajama top and part of the scratchy sheet. Here on my chest is direct evidence of the baby I birthed hours ago, but she is nowhere to be found. 

“Oh,” I whisper, gripping the bed rails and hoisting myself up. 

Fuck--pain is still radiating through my entire body. Sleep did little to relinquish the ache in my bones and my belly and my cunt, but at least my eyes aren’t so heavy now. Blindly, I reach for my phone, pulling it into my grasp and standing up. 

Oh--there it is. 

Tramp: Hoping you don’t wake up before we’re back, but in case you do--everything’s good. They’re giving Little Bit the run-around, but she’s being a trooper. Real Sophie’s choice deciding between staying with you or going with her. Figured you’d want me to stick with her, though. Love you, mama! 

Okay. Okay, everything is okay. I just have to change clothes. 

It’s only a little past eleven when I settle back in the hospital bed in a pair of cotton pajamas, chest dry but still aching. It’s good to sit--makes the air in my lungs not feel so entirely thick.

It feels like I have a thousand missed calls and messages when I finally open my phone again. Congratulating, cooing, crying, calling--everyone is ecstatic. While I was sleeping, Bradley sent a few more pictures of her and told everyone that I was just fine. There’s texts from Cyclone, Maverick, Penny, Amelia, Warlock--everyone. Bradley was busy while I was sleeping--I’m sure he made a dozen phone calls and took a million pictures. 

But now that I’m here, all alone in this brightly-lit ugly hospital room, that queer strangeness has crept back into my body. I know there’s life happening all around me, I know Bradley and the baby are somewhere down the hall, I know that I could call anyone and they’d drop everything to talk with me. But this emptiness, this aloneness, can’t be subdued from a phone call. My sister isn’t here to sit with me while Bradley stays with the baby. Neither is my mom or my dad. No in-laws, either. It’s just me here in this room with an agonizingly empty belly and swollen breasts. Maybe this is what motherhood feels like; bringing a baby into the world through sheer grit and bloody strength then sitting alone in a quiet room in soaked-through pajamas. 

That’s the precise moment that my phone rings--just as I tip my head towards the drop-ceiling and start counting the tiles as gloom carves a hole in my chest and makes a nest below my heart. It’s burrowing deeper and deeper as I blindly reach for my phone, sniffing hard as I answer and bring it to my face without checking the caller ID.

“I’m fine,” I say to Bob, closing my eyes. “Were your spidey-senses tingling?” 

There’s a quietness on the other line--a hollow sounding one. 

“Not Bob,” Jake says softly. “Sorry to disappoint.” 

I shoot straight up in the bed, spine stiff, fingers numb with cold. My heart is hammering and I let it because I don’t have to think about it hurting olive anymore. My body is mine again. It’s mine to let go stiff with panic, mine to let my belly turn. 

“Oh,” I whisper, running my hand over my face. “You son of a bitch.” 

He huffs out a breath--something close to a laugh, but not quite. Even just that sound, that little human sound, is so good to hear. The gloom is beginning to retreat, replaced by something between relief and regret.

“It’s good to hear your voice, kid. Really.” 

I’m shaking my head even though he can’t see me. 

“You scared me,” I say, hardly audible. “Jake, you really, really scared me.” 

“I know,” he whispers. “I know. I’m sorry, Faye.” 

I shake my head, sighing. 

“Don’t say sorry to me. Don’t be sorry at all,” I tell him. A beat passes before I continue. “I’m not gonna ask if you’re okay. But are you surviving?” 

It’s what I wish people would’ve asked me when I lost Maggie. I had to keep telling people that I was okay because that’s what they wanted to hear. There’s no room for honesty when you’re trying to appease someone’s guilty conscience. People can’t begin to understand the intricacy of seeing death so up close, of losing someone so achingly near--and they don’t want to. 

“Kinda,” he returns, sucking in a sharp breath. I’m imagining him adjusting on the hospital bed, his complexion pasty in whatever terrible gown they have him in, his hair unusually unkempt, his eyes glassy. I’m sure he hurts all over--just like I do. “But not very well.” 

I let another beat pass. 

“Are you in pain?” I ask even though I already know the answer.

“Yeah,” he answers gruffly. “Are you?” 

Boy, am I. 

“Definitely,” I mutter. 

There’s a bit of shuffling, a few sniffles. Maybe he’s trying to get comfortable on the hospital bed with all his injuries, trying to adjust. It’s fruitless, I’m sure; there’s no way of getting comfortable with his leg in a cast, with the three-to-six months he’ll have to spend on the ground stretching out before him defiantly.

“Aren’t we a pair?” He asks, a humorless laugh falling from his mouth. 

Swallowing hard, I nod. I feel like he can see me somehow all the way from Greensboro.  

“You had a baby,” he says quietly after a moment. 

It chokes me up. I have to take a deep breath before I respond, blinking at the sunshine. 

“I did,” I return in a hushed tone. 

He grunts in response. 

There are a million and seven things we should be saying to each other--but I’m not sure where to begin. I’m looking at this thing between us, this thing that’s been here since he said what he did, and trying to pinpoint any weak spots. I’m trying to find the best place for me to press my thumb into the tissue, the bruise on the apple, the pulpy piece of skin. 

I think he is, too. 

He takes a shuddering breath. 

“I know things have been weird between us,” he starts, his voice thick with upset, “and I know that me getting hurt doesn’t magically fix-fix everything, kid. But I’ve had a really, really shitty couple a’days. And you don’t owe me anything, nothin’ at all, but think you’ve got it in you to tell me all about your day? Tell me all about that baby, Faye.” 

This is a good place to start--this feels familiar. He’s not pushing and I’m not pulling.

There are already tears rolling down my face and I don’t move to wipe them away. They’re warm--they make my cheeks warm. 

“Well,” I start softly, trying to add a chipper edge to my flat voice, “Sunday was uneventful. The usual farmer’s market run, cat-nap, and bath situation. I was so pregnant that everyone’s telling me their horrific birth stories--unprompted. And everyone’s telling me that if I take a spoonful of castor oil, the baby’ll slip right out. Everyone wants to cop a feel, everyone has something to say. Nothing out of the ordinary.” 

Jake hums. I know he’s crying, too. I won’t say anything about it, though. 

“Then I got a phone call from a North Carolina number around dinnertime,” I’m treading very lightly as I say this, careful not to bring up everything he’s lost since yesterday. “Byron said I was your emergency contact.” 

He shifts--I can hear the rustling of the sheets and the grunt in his throat. 

“Only number I have memorized,” he says softly. “I’m sorry.” 

Sighing, I let my eyes fall shut. They’re swollen from crying, probably rimmed in pink. 

“Oh, don’t be. Don’t be.” 

My heart is aching inside my chest--I’m the only number he has memorized? Out of every single person on the planet--his family, his friends, his coworkers, his romantic partners--I’m the only number he’s ever cared to memorize? 

The vein across my nose is pulsing now.

“You’re not upset?” He sounds dejected. 

“No,” I whisper. “I’m not upset. I’ll be your emergency contact.” 

He doesn’t say anything--nothing at all--but when he sucks in a quiet breath and sobs into his fist very wetly, I can hear it. I know he doesn’t want me to hear it, know that he wants to keep it to himself, know that he wants me to just keep talking. So I do--for him, for myself. 

“Well, the phone call was upsetting. Upsetting enough to break my water,” I laugh softly. I suck in a breath, brows coming together as I reminisce on the start of my labor--which feels like more than sixteen hours ago. “It was a quick labor.”

He sniffles, sighing. 

“Didn’t suffer, did you?” 

 “Oh, I did,” I say. It’s quiet on the other end for a moment. “Was a great distraction, though.” 

He laughs--a wet kind of sad laugh.

“No shit,” he whispers, clearing his throat. 

“Almost gave birth in the car,” I tell him, sighing. 

He chokes--sputtering for a moment. 

“Faye, you didn’t,” he says softly, incredulous. 

“Very nearly did. Bradley was asking me if he needed to pull over. It was--it was scary. I was scared. Didn’t know if we’d make it.” 

It sounds very serious suddenly--having babies. It was precious, really; something I know that I will do as many times as I can. But it was the most frightening car ride of my entire life. The fear was thick like molasses slathering my body on my knees in the car late last night. 

“But you did, right?”

“We did,” I sigh, wiping a tear from my chin. “Just in the knick of time. She was born maybe twenty minutes after we got to the hospital.” 

“How’d Bradshaw fair during the whole thing?”

I roll the sheets between my fingers, breasts growing heavy at the sound of his tearful voice. The baby will need to feed soon--or I might burst. 

“Perfectly,” I breathe, pursing my lips. “Overachiever.”

He snorts softly. I can imagine him rolling his eyes, shaking his head. 

“Of course,” he mumbles. “And you’re--you’re okay, kid?” 

A fist holds my heart as my spine prickles.  

What a question. 

“Think so,” I whisper--my voice cracking. “I mean, it happened so fast. I was in labor for five hours and some change. Didn’t have a whole lot of time to process what was happening--was just kind of experiencing it.”

He grunts, sighing. 

“You’re tough, kid,” he tells me softly.

“Found that out the hard way,” I whisper. 

My palms are sweating.  

“I’ve always known that.” 

Biting my lip hard, I sit up a little straighter, glancing at the door that is cracked. No sign of Bradley or the baby. God, I miss them--can feel the ache for them in my bones. 

“She’s perfect,” I tell Jake softly. “I know all parents say that about their baby, but I’m telling the truth. She’s just--mm, she’s everything.” 

“The pictures I saw were sweet--she does look perfect,” he says. “You don’t look too bad yourself either, kid.” 

I scoff.

“Oh, please,” I whisper. “I haven’t washed my face or brushed my hair. And I’m covered in milk.” 

There’s another laugh--a louder one, a better one. But then he groans. 

“Hurts to laugh,” he mutters. 

“I’m sorry,” I say, biting my lip. 

He hums. 

“Don’t be.” 

There’s another moment of quiet between us--neither of us doing anything except breathing and brushing rolling tears off our cheeks. I wish so vehemently that he wasn’t alone right now--that when we get off the phone, he’ll have a hand to hold his. 

“Faye,” he finally says, voice thin. 

“Jake,” I whisper. 

There’s a harsh noise--a sharp intake of breath, a quivering kind of noise. 

“I’m so fucked up right now,” he chokes out. “I-I don’t know what to do.” 

My heart is sitting in a heap in my belly, swimming in cold dread for Jake. I know what he feels like--how is he going to move on, much less move forward? He is maimed physically, emotionally, mentally, personally. It’s not just the concussion and the broken bones--it’s the life that was stolen fifteen thousand feet above the ground, the Blue Ridge Mountain sitting in its path. 

“How would anyone know what to do?” I ask quietly. “You’re doing what you can and you’ll keep doing what you can.”

He’s openly sobbing now--the sound is a wretched one. It’s wet and snotty and deep, vibrating his body. His ribs must be aching right now, his whole body must be aching right now. 

“Oh, God,” he weeps. “Faye, I--I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I fucking--I fucking, I just--!” 

“Jake,” I soothe softly, swallowing hard and steadying my voice, “whatever you do, you’re not going to do it without me. I’m here--we’re all here--and we’re not going anywhere.” 

He’s still weeping, but it sounds less grueling now. 

“Faye,” he cries softly. 

It’s like my name is some sort of desperate call. 

“Just breathe,” I tell him, taking a deep breath myself. “You’re gonna hurt yourself, cowboy.” 

It takes a long time for his breathing to return to normal. He cries for a very, very long time. I stay on the line, pressing the phone to my cheek, letting my eyes fall shut. I try to ignore the heaviness in my chest--but it is starting to ache severely, especially hearing his tears over the phone. 

When it gets quiet again, when his breaths are more or less even, when I can hear the heart monitor that is attached to him--that’s when my face goes slack finally. There are still many, many things we’re going to have to say to each other eventually. But right now, the day after my daughter was born and the day after his accident, this is enough. We can let time pass now. 

“You call me later, okay?” 

He sniffles again. 

“I will,” he promises. 

“You’re not alone,” I tell him. “We’re here.” 

“Thank you,” he whispers. After a moment, he continues. “Faye?” 

“Yes, Jake?” 

He sighs. 

“Congratulations, kid. She’s perfect.”

That’s the precise moment that the door opens , the precise moment Bradley and the baby walk back through the doorway. Bradley’s beaming, cradling her in his arms, speaking to her very softly. He’s even walking with a bounce in his step, stroking her cheek. His cheeks are pink, his frame dwarfing her tiny body. 

“Thank you,” I choke. “You get some rest now, okay?” 

Bradley looks up at me, eyebrows knit. 

I hang up, let my phone fall to the mattress. 

“Missed you two,” I say and I’m suddenly crying again, reaching out for Bradley and the baby. “Don’t leave me again, okay?”

“Not gonna leave you again,” he whispers softly, his voice gruff. “M’sorry, baby. Thought you’d want me to go with her.”  

Bradley’s brows are sloped, his lips suddenly turned towards the white tiles.

“I did--I do. I’m glad. I just don’t wanna be alone,” I cry, wiping my cheeks. “And I’m leaking.”

He’s nodding already, swiftly coming to my bedside, very carefully handing me Little Bit. God, just holding her in my arms again--it makes the tears multiply. Her heaviness is such a sweet one, something that I shouldn’t have been able to live without before. She molds into my arm very easily, little eyes cracked, her fluffy hair resting in the crook of my arm. Her tiny pink lips are parted, opening and closing carefully. 

“M’sorry, baby,” Bradley whispers, smoothing my hair and pressing a few kisses to the top of my head. “You won’t be alone again, okay? Passed all her tests with flying colors. Said she was the best baby they’ve ever had. Slept through her hearing screening.” 

A laugh bubbles up in my chest--but then it’s replaced with something that feels very familiar to guilt. She’s been on this earth for eleven hours and I was asleep for eight of them. I’ve missed so much already--so many yawns, so many noises, her newborn screening, her stretches, a few feedings. And it just makes me cry harder when she grunts mutely in my arms, nuzzling against my chest.

Bradley wipes my cheeks and nose, pressing his thumbs beneath my eyes. He’s still kissing the top of my head, stroking my hair. 

“What’re the tears for, baby?” He asks carefully.

I’m struggling to unbutton my shirt while holding her, my fingers fumbling. 

“I feel like I’ve missed so much,” I cry, shaking my head. A tear falls on her head and it makes me cry even harder as I thumb it away. She doesn’t seem to notice, doesn’t seem to mind. She’s just blinking up at me, trying to find my breast.

Bradley chuckles. It makes my spine frigid. 

“Honey, you were sleeping. You have to sleep.”

“You didn’t sleep,” I hiss tearfully, still trying to unbutton my shirt. 

He nods, softly pushing my fingers away and carefully unbuttoning my shirt. He does it in one go, doesn’t fumble at all. 

“I didn’t push the baby out,” he reminds me. “You needed to sleep.”

He softly pushes the shirt away from my chest, coaxing it down my shoulder.  

God, even my breast is weeping. It’s swollen and hard, the ache deep and almost nauseating. But she finds it almost immediately, latching as I cup myself. It’s a strange sensation still, foreign enough to make me pull into myself but relieving enough to make my head fall into the pillow behind me. 

Bradley sits on the edge of the bed, stroking my hair, gaze fixed on the baby’s suckling mouth and puffed cheeks. I’m still crying--can’t stop it, can’t help it. 

“I woke up alone,” I whisper, blinking at the ceiling. “And I’d leaked all the way through my shirt. It was weird to feel in my body that I had a baby, but not see her. Made me sad.” 

Bradley tuts, scooting closer to me, cupping my cheeks. He looks tired--his eyes drooping, his mustache uncombed, his lips chapped. But drenched in the afternoon sun, he still looks so beautiful, more beautiful than I’ll ever be or ever have been. Even with his brows furrowed and a frown planted firmly on his lips, he’s beautiful.  

“M’so sorry, baby,” he coos, shaking his head. “Don’t want you to wake up alone. Should’ve woken you up.” 

I tut now, sighing. 

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong. You never do anything wrong. It’s just--maybe everything’s catching up with me now. And-and Jake called.” 

He’s stroking my cheek with the rough pad of his index finger, nodding, kissing my nose. He pinches a fingerful of snot from my top lip and says nothing when I narrow my eyes at him. 

“Are you okay, Faye?” 

I’ll always be Faye first to him--even now, even as I feed our daughter from my breast in this hospital room. 

“I don’t know,” I whisper. 

Because, really--I don’t. I feel like I’m standing at the bottom of the ocean and things keep passing by me overhead, too far above for me to touch, just far away from me to still see. Things are unclear and dizzying--nothing is simple right now, nothing at all.

He nods. His jaw is squared, but his eyes are soft. He silently turns from me, letting his hand fall from my face. I’m shaken for a moment--reeling at the loss of his skin on mine. But then the baby is whining very quietly against my breast, her little hands curled up by her belly. 

There’s a heavy sound--Bradley’s shut the door. He takes his shoes off, moves the wet sheet I pooled at the bottom of the bed to the hamper. He pads around the room, refilling my water bottle, slipping into a hoodie, grabbing another blanket. Then he comes back to the bed, very softly hooking his arms beneath my knee and around my back to pull me to one side of the bed. He crawls in beside me, nudges my head against his chest and tangles his hand in my hair. 

“I love you so much,” he tells me, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Now, what do you wanna listen to?” 

Before I can answer, he brings the water bottle to my lips and tells me to drink as he tilts it back softly. He swipes a bead of water from my chin, kisses my temple, and brings the blanket over us. 

“Let’s listen to that labor and delivery playlist,” I say as he thumbs the last of my tears. 

He grins. 

“Good choice, mama,” he laughs. 

Born in the U.S.A. by Bruce Springsteen floods the echoey hospital room. 

I’m laughing then--it just bursts out of me as easily as the tears did. Bradley’s beaming, too, pulling me back against him. He’s as solid as he’s ever been, cradling me and our daughter alike. 

“Oh, you’re ridiculous,” I mumble, sniffling. 

“She was born in the U.S.A., baby,” he defends, chuckling. “How could I not?” 

Even right now--I feel so much better. The ache in my breasts has dulled. My tears have dried. My baby is back in my arms. Bradley is lying just beside me, holding me. It’s warm beneath the blanket, warm beside Bradley.

It’s only a few quiet minutes after that when the baby turns her cheek away from my breast, moving her mouth lazily, her eyes heavy. Bradley is quick to button my shirt as I bring the baby to rest on my chest, lying back against the mattress.

It’s one of my favorite things in the world, I think--holding her like this on my chest. She’s so very docile, so very calm when she lays atop my breasts and listens to my heartbeat. It must be such a familiar sound to her--those beats I tried to keep steady for her, this body that she grew inside of. She’s pulled into herself, little red cheek squished against my sternum as she blinks at Bradley.

I pat her back very softly, smoothing my fingers across her little shoulder blades and kissing the tufts of hair on her head. She’s very warm, very soft--she smells like Bob. A freshly-washed baby. And it makes something swell up in my body, something big and good and happy. I’ve known her all along. 

Bradley’s staring at her, a grin tugging at his lips. 

“She used to be the size of an olive,” he whispers incredulously, exhaling. 

He kisses her wrinkly little forehead, his mustache making her grunt softly. 

But something tingles in my toes when he says it: olive. That’s what we’ve called her all along, what I’ve called her in all my thoughts, what I’ve called out in my dreams of her. She’s our little olive. That’s her name. 

“Olive,” I parrot, glancing at Bradley with wide eyes. 

He looks at me for a moment, lip tucked between his teeth. He registers it with a crinkle between his brow, glancing back down at the baby’s face, gingerly putting his pinky finger in her palm. All five of her perfect fingers wrap around his finger reflexively--he nearly melts. 

“Olive,” he whispers to her. Then he beams, nodding. “Olive.”

We have a name for her--we finally have a name for her. Our little Olive Maggie Bradshaw, born just before midnight and almost in the car. 

“Sweet thing,” I mumble to her. “Sweet little Olive-baby.” 

November 17th, 2021

The fire emanates a sweet heat in the dark living room, crackling and popping softly. The sun is low in the west, painting the sky a most delicate shade of marigold. It’s cold outside now; cold enough for Bradley and I to wear sweaters and thick socks around the house. Beside the fire, Buttercup is curled up with her snout angled towards my seat on the couch. Stevie is perched at the top of the stairs, licking her paws, preening. And Marmalade is standing watch at my feet with her clumsy little puppy paws firmly planted on the hardwood. 

I think I could stay in this exact spot forever. The couch is plush, so plush that I sink into it every time I breathe too deeply. And my body, though still sore but healing rapidly, is greedily accepting anything soft against it. And the sweater and cotton pants I’m wearing are direct proof of this. 

It’s quiet in here for the most part--a lull that fell over the expansive living room somewhere between Olive’s feed just a few minutes ago and the dinner we had delivered. Everything feels right: my body is clean, my clothes are free from spit-up, my breasts aren’t aching, and Olive is safe and sound. But I know this time is fleeting in some senses; come the end of the month and Bradley won’t be here all hours of the day anymore. He’ll be back on base, instructing and flying. Only a little while longer of this peace, this beautiful quiet. 

“Don’t go back to work,” I say quietly, sighing at Bradley.

He glances up at me, a frown tugging at his lips, his whiskey-colored eyes wide and swimming. Maybe it’s a cruel thing to say to him--but I can’t help it.    

“I’m gonna quit my job,” Bradley whispers from the piano bench, holding Olive’s sleeping form on his forearms. He carefully strokes her head, little hairs under his big thumbs. 

Smiling, I pull my legs up to myself and nod. I pet Marmie’s head softly, scratching behind her ear. 

“Okay,” I whisper. “Money-shmoney.” 

Bradley’s face is awash with love and firelight. I know because it is how he looks at me--how he’s always looked at me. His eyes are very soft as he gazes down at our daughter, his lips smiling. It’s how he always looks at her--even when it’s three in the morning and she’s been cluster feeding all night, even when it’s her third soiled diaper in two hours. He is thoroughly in love with her. 

 “We’ll charge Hangman rent,” he says teasingly, eyes flickering to mine. They linger there for a moment, gauging the smile tugging on my lips and the blush on my cheeks. 

“You’re a mean daddy,” I whisper, shaking my head. “He’s a guest.”

He turns, carefully cradling Olive--who only whines softly in return--and presses down on a few keys. She doesn’t stir; she likes music, likes loud noises. She’s definitely my daughter. The notes he plays are close to resembling a song, but stunted by the use of only one of his hands. 

“What do you think, Olive?” He asks her softly, pressing down on a few more keys sporadically. “Think Uncle Bagman is gonna change any diapers?” 

The notion makes me smile. As if. 

“What’s she think?” I ask. 

Bradley turns his ear to her little mouth, furrowing his brows and nodding. Then he looks back up at me with a sly smile. 

“Said she thinks we oughta put him on the night shift,” Bradley smiles. “Sorry, Jake. She calls the shots around here. Olive leads with an iron fist.”

From the other end of the couch, with his casted foot propped up on Stevie’s favorite ottoman, Hangman just shakes his head softly. His eyes are closed, head resting on the back of the couch, and he’s smiling very faintly even though it’s almost time for another dose of his pain medication. We’re sharing a blanket, draped lazily across my feet and his thighs. 

“Having a baby has somehow turned you into a bigger goofball than you already were,” Jake sighs, peering at Bradley through half-shut eyes. “Which I didn’t think was scientifically possible.”

Bradley’s just grinning, cheeks pink. 

“Like you’d even give up the night shift anyway,” I smile softly, gaze fixed on the top of Olive’s head in the crease of Bradley’s arms. 

Bradley likes the night shift--already out of bed and hovering Olive’s bassinet at the first sound of crying, cradling her against his bare chest. He changes the diapers without complaint, kissing her palms and her little fingernails. And when she’s hungry, he’s gentle with me: helping me sit up, pressing kisses to my face, unbuttoning my shirt, letting me rest against him. He’s fallen into everything very easily, like I knew he would. 

“She’s right,” Jake says softly, eyebrows raised.

When I move to put my feet on the floor and Marmie bumps into the couch in excitement, Jake winces. Leaning over, I hold his wrist, squinting at his watch. It’s almost seven.  

“Want another dose?” I ask softly, patting his hand. His skin is hot, but he is relaxed beneath my touch. 

He nods, his jaw squared. 

“I’ve got it, baby,” Bradley tells me softly, padding across the room to put Olive in my arms. He kisses the top of my head before wandering into the kitchen with a smile lingering on his lips. 

Olive’s waking up; slow-blinking up at me, shaking her head jerkily, yawning. She stretched her little arms and legs, whining out as I press her against me, humming. And feeling my skin and the vibration of my voice, she settles instantly.

“Look at those eyes,” I whisper, very softly stroking her pink cheek. “Hi, Ollie. Hi, baby. Look at you--so awake, aren’t you? Big girl.” 

She focuses on my face, those hazel eyes glowing in the firelight, her lips parting to yawn again. My heart squeezes deliciously--so deliciously that I’m afraid I’m going to snuggle her too hard or hold her too close.

“Oh, you’re so pretty,” I whisper to her, nuzzling her nose against mine. “So sweet and so little.” 

Glancing at Jake, I’m taken back when he’s already facing me. No doubt that he’s in pain--he’s only been here for a few days, but it’s easy to tell when his entire face is eaten by a grimace. There are cuts and bruises littering his face--the worst of which situated just above his left eyebrow; a nasty gash held together by two stitches. Despite the crinkle between his brows and the tight line of his lips, his eyes are soft as he gazes down at Olive. 

“Thinking about how having a baby has made me too gushy?” I ask softly. 

His eyes flicker up to meet mine and the crease between his brows dissipates entirely. 

“No,” he tells me, shaking his head. “Motherhood looks good on you. Natural.”

My heart constricts. 

“Thanks,” I say quietly. “She’s made it easy.” 

He hums, nodding, leaning over very carefully to look at her. I sit up so he can come closer to her. He’s straining--I know that it hurts to bend with his broken ribs. So very softly, I press my shoulder against him and brace myself against his weight. Silently, he allows it--sighs audibly when his muscles go slack. 

“She’s pretty perfect,” Jake admits, shaking his head. “When’s she gonna start doin’ stuff?” 

Stroking her cheek, I hum. She’s falling asleep now, her eyes heavy and blinking slowly. 

“A while,” I sigh. “She’s still adjusting to life on the outside.”

Jake sighs, growing heavier against me. 

“Aren’t we all?” 

We both laugh--wincing in tandem. 

He clears his throat, moving to press his index finger in Olive’s palm--she wraps her fingers around him safely. This pleases him, I think--I can feel the smile growing on his lips. 

“Bob gonna be pissed I got to meet her first?” He asks. 

Yes--he is. But he won’t say a word about it, not when Jake is injured, not when Jake’s here for the foreseeable future and grounded indefinitely. Bob will smile with tight lips until he gets Olive in his arms--then he’ll go completely slack. He’ll melt when he meets her, which is something I just know indefinitely. 

“It’s Bob,” I whisper, shrugging. “Of course he is.” 

Bradley pads back into the room with a closed fist and a glass of water. 

“Uncle Bagman,” he says softly, dropping the pills in Hangman’s open palm before handing him the water. 

Jake rolls his eyes. 

“Please,” Hangman starts after swallowing the first pill, “just call me anythin’ except that.” 

Bradley pats Marmalade before he moves to sit beside me kissing Olive’s head softly. 

“No can do,” Bradley sighs, grinning at Jake, stroking her little fingers still wrapped around Hangman’s. “Talk to the boss.”

Olive is a good sleeper--especially at night. She sleeps soundlessly in the bassinet in our bedroom, swaddled tightly and carefully by Bradley. She’s such a good sleeper that we merely leave the door open when we shower, ears open for any sound beside the music playing lowly from my phone or Buttercup yawning at the door. 

Forever by The Little Dippers is playing now. 

I know he’s tired, too. If not because his affection for taking the night shift with Olive and insisting upon being there for every feed and diaper change, then because it’s rather difficult to get Jake settled in the office at night. Not because of Jake, of course--who stoically grips Bradley’s shoulders as I help to situate him on the bed we moved into Bradley’s office. The office, which was almost entirely ornamental anyway, is Jake’s makeshift bedroom while he stays with us. He still can’t do stairs--won’t be able to for quite some time. Although Jake’s been nothing but stoic and grateful since flying in from Greensboro, offering to help where he can when he can, I know this is going to be a long and hard process. If not because of the physical therapy and the healing and the casts and the check-ups, then because I’m not sure Jake remembers what it’s like to not be a pilot. 

When we first brought the idea to him--which was more insistence on my part--Jake more or less agreed instantaneously. I’m sure the prospect of being so wounded on his own in some crumby military housing in North Carolina was worrisome--even for him and his unflappable confidence. He’s quieter now that he’s here and I’m not sure if it’s because of the pain I know he’s in nearly constantly or if he’s trying to get acclimated to our quiet domesticity. 

“What’re you thinking about, Faye-baby?”

I yawn, shaking my head softly. 

“Jake,” I admit, sighing. “Worried about him.” 

Bradley nods, taking it in utter stride. 

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly, “I’m worried about him, too. He’s been so quiet.” 

“I know,” I whisper, sighing. “I’m glad he’s here, but I just--just feel like there’s a million things happening right now.” 

He hums, kissing my cheek, pushing hair off my shoulder. 

“You’re a good person, baby,” he tells me softly. “If this is too much, you know that we could talk to him about it. He’d understand--we just had a baby. S’a lot.” 

I tut, shaking my head. 

“No. No--I’m really glad he’s here. It’s just a lot of adapting,” I explain quietly. “But I can do it. We can do it. It’ll be nice to have an extra set of hands when you go back to work.” 

He deflates slightly, sighing. 

“Don’t remind me,” he groans. 

“Sorry,” I whisper, wrinkling my nose and yawning.      

Bradley kisses my shoulder, his lips warm and soft. 

“Tired, baby?” he whispers. 

I nod, yawning. 

“Gonna wash your hair?” He asks, pulling me closer to him. 

He is somehow warmer than the steady stream of hot water raining down on us, over my aching muscles and my deflating belly and my hands over his. 

“Gearing up for it,” I sigh. 

He detaches himself from me wordlessly, chuckling when I gasp lightly. 

“Tip your head back, baby.” 

And then he washes my hair. He shampoos all the long blonde locks, massages my scalp. He rubs cream rinse through the ends and clips it to the top of my head. Then he washes my body very delicately, taking special care to press kisses to all the places that stretched when Olive grew in my body--which is almost everywhere. 

And when I’m clean, when I feel brand new, he just holds me against him. We stay there for a very long time, just breathing in tandem, leaning into each other. 

“Have I told you that you’re my best friend?” He asks, kissing the shell of my ear and my throat. 

“Once or twice,” I hum, leaning back against his shoulder. 

“Good,” he sighs. “You’re blowing me away, baby. You make it look so natural.”

Now I’m blushing, heart stuttering at the mere thought of Olive slumbering in the bedroom. Sweet girl--my daughter. 

“S’never been so easy to love anyone before,” I admit. “Must get that from you.”

He holds me impossibly closer, sighing. 

“No, baby,” he whispers. “S’all you.”

“You’re good to me,” I whisper. 

The kisses against my face are endless, very sweet and soft. 

“Y’make it easy.”  

☾☽ 𝐚/𝐧: and finally they are PARENTS!! how are we liking the name Olive? it's been my plan from the dawn of time for them to name her Olive--I just think it's so cute!!

Landslide update!

good day, besties :) just wanted to let you know that Epilogue V will probably be the last Landslide update for a while! the final epilogue will give away too much/spoil my new OC x Jake story! so here's the deal!!

I'm going to start working on a mini what-if series where it's Jake x Faye! I will probably upload that as frequently as I can get it done! but I'm also going to be switching gears and working on Silver Springs now! I know everyone loves Faye and Bradley, but I promise that you'll love Sookie and Jake too!!

was also considering writing another series of the dynamic between Faye, Bradley, and Jake after Olive's born and Jake moves in with them....let me know if you're interested in that!!?

feel free to dm me or send an ask fro anything you want or need!!

☾☽ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

#rooster bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw fic #rooster #rooster top gun #rooster x reader #top gun rooster #rooster smut #rooster fluff #rooster angst #rooster x wife!reader #top gun maverick #top gun #top gun cast #top gun fandom #top gun fanfic #top gun bob #landslide

[gemini-sensei]

please elaborate in miguel's lactation kink OH MY GOD

— flare 🫶

(@miguelnation) (unedited)

It started off as an innocent question. Of course with his breeding kink, he liked the idea of his wife's tits getting bigger. He knew they were gonna swell up with milk for their baby, but at the time he hadn't put much more thought into it. So when they ended up pregnant, there were many thoughts running through his head.

One of those thoughts came about when it became obvious her tits were getting bigger. When they got sore, he'd offer to massage them to ease some tension off of her...

He's so gently and easy, knowing they're tender. He lets her lay back against his chest, his arms round her, whispering in her ear about how she's such a good mama already; she's doing so much for their growing family. His hands are so big and warm, it's bliss to be wrapped up in his arms and getting treated like a royal.

But then he feels a wetness on her shirt. She was braless, but kept her shirt on and he was fine with that. However, now he sees two wet patches on the front of her shirt and they're getting bigger as he holds her tits in his hand. He know immediately she's leaking milk and he asks him what it tastes like. He wants to know.

"Look at you, mama," he chuckles sweetly, kissing her cheek as she becomes a little embarrassed. It's nothing to be shy about, though, because it's nature. He assures her. "You just need some help getting cleaned up."

They readjust and he pulls her shirt over her head. He has her lay back on a mountain of soft pillows, making her comfort top priority. She looks so pretty to him, rounded belly and fat tits. There's small beads of the liquid clinging to her hardened nipples, though they're already glistening. He locks his lips before carefully leaning over her and lapping at one, immediately enjoying the sweetness.

He continues to lap at her nipples until they're covered in his saliva and cleaned of the sticky milk. Then he looks up at her, his hands cradling her belly affectionately because he can't keep his hands off, never 😅 he just loves touching her belly. When she gives him the okay, he wraps his lips around one of her nipples and sucks gently. The sweet liquid fills his mouth as she moans softly and his satisfied, both with his new drink and her sighs of relief and pleasure.

Her hand finds its way into his hair and holds him close. She pulls him away when she needs a break and directs him to the other teet, leaving the other puffy and swollen. He loves it as she starts murmuring to him how nice it feels to know she can please him like this, that he likes it; how he was right that she didn't have to be embarrassed, especially because now she knows why 😈

An aside, but if she lets him, he loves to squeeze her tit and try to catch the milk that squirts our into his mouth. He loves it. It's messy and loads of fun. He especially loves how it feels splashing onto his tongue.

#miguel diaz headcanons #miguel diaz x reader #miguel diaz #cobra kai miguel #miguel diaz smut #pregnant reader #cobra kai #cobra kai headcanons #cobra kai x reader #cobra kai x chubby reader #cobra kai x plus size reader #chubby reader #plus size reader #smut headcanons #cobra kai smut thought #gemini sensei #miguelnation

[pearlneow]

Hi hi hii!

How hard it is to find a good nsfw writing blog wrote by minor damn(im 17 now btw lmao)

But!

I came here with brainrot and kinda request!

Imagine Zhongli and Ayato(separately) with Reader who have hand and voice kink 👀

THE TEASING, MY MAN, THE TEASING

they would have no mercy on reader damn-

୨୧ ꒰ could you say it again .. ?! ♡ ꒱

written by a minor!! please dni if that makes you uncomfy!!

summary : ayato nd zhongli (separately) x reader w a hand + voice kink!!

word count : ~500 words

content / warnings : sub!gn!reader, hand and voice kink, teasing, some praise w zhongli (reader receiving), pet names w zhongli (darling) degradation w ayato (reader receiving), name-calling w ayato (brat, whore), i think that's all?

note : THE TEASING FOR SURE!!!?? i love you and ur ideas sm holy shit,,,,, i've honestly never considered voice kinks before so i may have written it v badly but!! i had a lot of fun with this nevertheless thank you for the brainrot nd the compliments mwah mwah :]]

additionally if ur looking for good nsfw minor writing blogs..... i recommend @/millyboo nd @/qingxiin! i'm a little bit biased bc i've talked to both a few times but they're both super sweet from my experience and write v well!! ^^

✦ ZHONGLI.

okay so while i do think he'd totally tease you... he's a little bit more of a gentleman in bed than ayato!!

his teasing is typically on the gentle side, but really really persistent!! you absolutely can't get a break

if you'd asked him to repeat anything he said, he'd chuckle lightly and feign ignorance as to what ur referring to, asking you to be more specific whilst slowing down his movements, causing you to squirm under him in impatience-

zhongli'd let you suck on his fingers whilst pounding into you at a steady pace, slowly swirling them around in ur mouth. maybe even instructing you as to how he wanted it done as he went <3

"darling, be patient, won't you?" you shivered as his coarse hands ran over you and down your waist. "b-but, zhongli..! please, i- i really can't take it anymore.." zhongli hummed lowly and reached up to hold your jaw. "open." he said. you complied, but before you could question him, his fingers were thrust into your mouth and you let out a whimper.

you tried your best to swirl your tongue around them, not missing a spot while he whispered praises in your ear. that god damn deep, rich voice of his </33

✦ AYATO.

ayato is an absolute menace okay. like wtf

he's always having to maintain a good image as the head of the kamisato clan and the yashiro commissioner, so ur kind of his stress relief yk!! <3

ayato's reeally touchy, even more so when he knows how much you love his hands. he loves to run his fingers up and down ur body, circling ur more sensitive areas, nd he's always watching ur face to see the way you react!!

as for his voice,, i strongly believe in moderately sadistic ayato he loves loves loves calling you terrible things right next to ur ear to see you go red, only to tease you moments after about how dirty you are for enjoying it <333 he's so mean and i'm here for it

the head of the kamisato clan had you, completely stripped of your clothes, pinned to his bed and was observing you with an amused look on his face as you shifted around, looking anywhere but his face.

suddenly, you felt a hand cupping the side of your head and gasped, jumping slightly. ayato laughed and you let out a breath you'd been holding in, chewing on your lip out of nervousness. "my, my. someone's not paying attention today." he mused as his smooth hand lightly trailed down, running down your neck and to your chest, stopping to rub small circles over them.

you panted heavily as ayato began to grope them slowly and lean to beside your ear. "what a brat you are, refusing to look at me. i'm doing all this for you and you can't even spare me one glance, hm, you whore?" a small moan made its way out of you as he squeezed your chest to prompt a response.

"you even enjoy it when i call you a whore? hah, you sure are one."

#୨୧ ꒰ writing ! #sorry lmaokds ayato's ended up being a lil bit longer cause it got a bit self indulgent tbh #but i hope its ok!!! #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #zhongli smut #ayato smut #genshin x reader #zhongli x reader #ayato x reader #sub!reader #uuuhuuh did i forget sth #seriously #whag did i forget