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#i would also act unwise
doodlemelody · 5 months
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narinder having the "naturally obedient" trait really really took me out when i got him tbh
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trickstarbrave · 4 months
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Why stop at the life size nerevar bust when you could do the whole body
Mostly logistics. I don’t like most full sized statues as I get rly nit picky. Plus the logistics of printing pieces that big and putting it together. I’ve seen someone make a lifesize Barbie BJD and there are numerous challengers with it I think. Plus someone would have to 3d model it bc I don’t don’t know shit about fuck about sculpting
I think a bust figure would allow less room for error, plus it’s an existing model/design.
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britneyshakespeare · 5 months
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Actually I must resign to the fact that The Country Wife (1675) by William Wycherley is unfortunately hilarious
#ive read almost all of it since noon#it's a quick read. i only have act v left#first i must say. harry horner is a bisexual icon#secondly i am upset that a man who trashed the legacy of aphra behn could almost equal her in wit#at least just judging by this one play. now this shit is raunchy#im still not as familiar with restoration theater as i am the elizabethan/jacobean eras but like? how is it that plays by women seemed#to get the greater criticism for being bawdy in the restoration era. oh my GOD wycherley#no but it is funny it is really really funny#tales from diana#the editor of this 1959 riverside edition of restoration plays. john harold wilson. he's kind of hilarious#i mentioned him in the tags of a post i reblogged about aphra behn the other day. how he called mary pix and delarivier manley#poetasters of the post-restoration decline in theater... that guy#in his introduction to the country wife he holds no punches for wycherley sdlfasdf#after talking about his four successful plays he says:#'he married unwisely; fell out of favor at court; spent seven years in prison for debt; and wasted the remainder#of his life writing bad verse.' SLDIFSDJIFLDIFSL#if someone said that about me. even though i was already dead. i would somehow find a way to kill myself#maybe 20th century literary academic snobs were funnyyyyy#misogynists granted. but when they attacked each other? funny#also even though i am praising the country wife this play is definitely definitely misogynistic like holy shit#k. ive said enough
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mlp blind bag figures on ebay got me contemplating unwise financial decisions
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cherry-bomb-ships · 1 year
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Hhhhhhrg!!!!! Thinking abt Cortex!!!!! 💖💖💖💖💖💖
Specifically I love the idea of my s/i R. Marie being extremely rage-filled 24/7 about her affection for him so they're cuddling or something and she goes "if you tell a single soul about this I swear I will hunt you to the ends of the earth and make you know nothing but pain" and Cortex is just like "I love you too shnookums 💖"
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sparkmender · 9 months
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Which of my figures should I make a virgin killer sweater dress for because I have little balls of scrap yarn I need to use
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hydrachea · 2 years
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One of these days I'm gonna have to rewatch both Zero and UBW, taking a shot every time I have non-christian thoughts about Gilgamesh. I'll last half an episode and then I'll die of alcohol poisoning.
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impertinentdghter · 3 months
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oughh i gotta make a h.unger games verse for this girl
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tachyon-omlette · 1 year
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how normal is it to provide meta for your ocs as if they existed in canon. not deluding yourself to believe they do exist in canon, I'm talkin "[oc] would have first appeared in [series a] but was dialed back for [series b], then had a significant rewrite in [series c] that became the basis of their characterization thereafter" as if their differences in their variations were caused by a chain of events similar to how media canon is altered by each progressing iteration. is that something physically fucking anyone else does
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averywiseanimatedcat · 3 months
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6 months on it still thinking about how much of a shock that kiss must’ve been to Aziraphale.
The way Crowley steers his cooperation around really gave Aziraphale no warning at all. I was thinking about the development of their body language and it’s interesting to me so have an analysis under the cut.
Crowleys body language doesn’t change all that much over the course of their history. After their initial meetings as angels then in Eden, Crowleys already leaning in, orbiting and slinking around in quite a comfortable, familiar way. He tends to angle his body towards Aziraphale and stands quite close to him. He shows no sign of being fearful or uncomfortable. He quite happily moves in and around Aziraphales personal space without a care in the world even when they hardly knew each other yet.
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Aziraphale however starts out looking guarded and unsure. He often stands facing forward while talking to Crowley sideways.
As we go through history Aziraphale becomes more comfortable. He opens up, starts to angle his body more towards Crowley, stops guarding with his hands and moves into Crowleys space on his own. And he starts to initiate physical contact where it’s not even necessary.
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But the only times I can think of Crowley initiating physical contact before the kiss are ones that could easily be written off as just friendly or something else like
The wall push (which was aggressive)
The magic shop handshake is practical for sealing the deal
The handhold for the swap (mutual initiation, also practical we assume)
Sitting on the arm of the chair and kinda sorta leaning on Aziraphale when Muriel turns up
Crowley also tends to reject Aziraphales touch by removing himself from it like in the 1800’s, dodging with some roundabout footwork or leaning away. With moments like the pub or the shoulder touch he doesn’t have much of a visible reaction. Granted his eyes are hidden but Aziraphale probably thinks he just doesn’t like being touched. And yes, Neil said they like holding hands, but do they know the other likes holding hands?
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And I can hear you say ok then why does Crowley always put himself within touching distance if he don’t wanna be touched? Yeah, he does, but from Aziraphales perspective Crowley has always done this. He’s always been standing close or leaning in. It’s just how he is. Aziraphale is the one who’s changed. He’s become walking megaphone just blasting ‘please hold my hand before I discorporate on the spot pleasepleaselpleaseplease…’
Aziraphale is clearly a physical touch being. He reaches for Crowley in the most stressful or emotionally charged moments. And I think he has been holding back (we can see that on his face) but there’s times where he seems to stop himself mid motion from touching Crowley. Such as after Gabriels appearance and Az is trying to keep Crowley calm
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When Crowley says he’s going to take the humans out
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And when Crowley goes to take Maggie and Nina out of the bookstore when Heaven and Hell are there. There is a safety element here as it’d be unwise for him to show his affection with Heaven or Hell around but Aziraphales first instinct is to reach for him. But Crowley just gets out of the way like he does it all the time. It’s another dance they do, Aziraphale pursues with physical affection, Crowley avoids. And Aziraphale doesn’t want to cross boundaries he’s perceiving Crowley to be putting up around physical affection so he’s holding it back.
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And I think all that is part of the reason Aziraphale looks angry after the kiss. He’s possibly thinking (among many other things) that Crowley has rejected or ignored his physical affection all this time, making Aziraphale think he didn’t want it when he did. And that would be a painful thing to realise when you thought you yearned alone.
So I don’t blame Aziraphale for being upset when he gets this sudden enormous dose of physical contact out of the blue. He had no warning. On the contrary, Crowleys been acting like a big, prickly, demonic cactus. And it would’ve been endlessly confusing to be kissed after years believing the want for even the lightest of touches wasn’t reciprocated.
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risuola · 8 months
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HEADACHE — F. READER x SUKUNA RYOMEN ft. Yuji Itadori
Your head has been killing you all day but you tried to play it off as nothing to not worry your boyfriend, but he noticed and didwhat he could to ease your suffering.
cw: fluff, Itadori is 18 and is a vessel for Sukuna, reader is in pain (duh), things like SA and su1cide are mentioned (nothing discriptive though), there is like, one slightly suggestive joke I guess? it's fluff, let me remind you! — 1,7k words
a/n: yet another fluffed out piece of writing for the king, because I love him struggling to keep his authority, alright? there are also so many fics where Sukuna is just purely violent that I feel like him being everything but violent is very much in demand and I love him more gentle 🖤 i also often get headaches like the one described so it was my inspo, kinda.
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It hurt. Your head had been killing you since this morning and slowly it was getting to the point where you couldn't even move. It felt like a storm had been raging inside your skull for hours, you couldn't think, couldn't eat, couldn't concentrate on anything all day, and three painkillers didn't help at all. Your vision was blurry, your balance was off, everything seemed too loud, too close, too bright, too intense. You wanted to scream, you cried, and even begged whatever there is in the universe to just take this pain away.
"I can't," you whispered, crying quietly into your pillow as night fell. "I can't, I can't..." You tried not to wake Yuji, you even acted like it hurt less than it really did, just so he wouldn't worry, but now you couldn't hold it anymore. Your hands were shaking, your vision went black, and you wanted to die.
You got up, quietly and carefully, and slowly padded to the bathroom, feeling your way through the walls because your vision wasn't reliable anymore, and you put your head under the ice-cold water. Unpleasant shivers ran down your spine, your breath came short, but you stayed there, begging the university to ease the agony. And it did, for a moment. It all came back when you threw a towel over your head, unable to withstand the cold anymore. There was no point, you were dying, there was no other way.
Defeated, you dried your hair as best you could and went back to bed, where the moment you laid down, Yuji's arm found its place over your middle. He was still asleep, thankfully, and you pushed a pillow over your face and dived into the darkness.
"Is this suicide?", a voice that you only hoped was the creation of your mind reached your ears and you ignored it for the time being. Yuji was sleeping, he didn't move his hand from over your belly, he couldn't... "It's unwise to ignore me."
"Please, I can't do this now..." you whispered and took the pillows away. It was wet with tears, and so was your face when you looked at him. It was Sukuna, but it seemed like he had very little control over Itadori's body. Or maybe he intentionally kept you close to him so that you would die of a heart attack, but the sudden rush of blood that made your heart pump much faster than usual only made you feel worse.
"You can't do what?"
"Why are you here?" you asked, wiping your face.
"I love watching people suffer, and you seem to be just the kind of show I'd enjoy."
"Of course you do..."
"What is the source of your pain?"
"My head hurts. So fucking bad."
"Poor little human," he chuckled, lifting his head and resting it on his hand for a better view. In any other situation you would have pushed him away, tried to distance yourself, but now you had no power to fight back, so you stayed where you were, in the emotionless embrace of a curse that lives inside your boyfriend.
"If you stepped out to enjoy my pain, please go fuck yourself. Not the best timing, curse."
"How rude," he chuckled, "as if you were in a position to speak to me like that. I can slice you to ribbons before that brat even thinks of taking control back. Oh, imagine how devastated he would be to wake up to the bloody mess of his little girlfriend."
"Oh, sure. How creative, threatening me with death, very original. Perhaps you should surprise me and use your little hocus pocus to ease the pain I feel instead of scaring me."
"You want me, the King of Curses, to heal a human?"
"Kindness would be a good look on you."
"Oh, you're so desperate," he laughed and you covered your eyes with your forearm, already tired of his shit. The silence hurt you, not to mention his amused tone.
"Get lost, Sukuna," you muttered. "If you're not going to help, then stay quiet."
"And who are you to order me around?" his long fingers clawed at your chin, forcing your head in his direction, and you lowered your arm to look at him. Red eyes almost glowed in the darkness of the night, but he looked calm. "Hmm? Little human, have you forgotten where your place is?"
"I know where my place is, but you're in my bed now, so the only rules that apply here are mine."
"What a mouth," he chuckled again. "I can make this headache worse, you know."
"By annoying me to death? You're doing great at that."
It really wasn't wise to push Sukuna's buttons like that, your luck was definitely going to run out sooner or later, and even if you thought you wanted to die because of the headache, that wasn't really what you wished for.
"Sukuna, please, don't be a dick, help a human out."
"Oh, but watching you in pain is so much more entertaining."
"Have you ever tried to be nice, or is the concept foreign?"
"Being nice doesn't hold any power."
"Oh, but it does. When people truly respect you, not because they're scared, that's a different kind of power. And you like power, right?"
"I'm the strongest, I don't care what maggots think of me as long as they kneel in fear."
"If those people are maggots, doesn't that make you like a maggot king or something?"
"Oh, you're pushing your luck."
"Sure, whatever," you smack his hand away from your face and put the pillow back over it. If he's not going to be helpful, what was the point of paying attention to him? Just because he wants it doesn't mean he has to get it.
"And now you plan to ignore me?"
With no answer, you just pressed the plush item harder to your face, hoping that the pressure would soothe you even a little, but no luck.
Sukuna achieved his goal of making your heart beat even faster when he suddenly climbed on top of you, pinning you under his body and throwing the pillow away. Both of your hands he pressed to the bed with only one of his own, and you looked at him with a combination of surprise, confusion, and a glimmer of fear. This was not an ideal situation in any universe.
"What now?"
"Oh, don't be so scared, you wanted me to help you, right?"
"I fail to notice where the helping part is..."
"You humans fail to notice a lot of things."
Ryomen continued to touch you, but his touch felt anything but intimate. It burned, it felt targeted when his palm brushed against your knees or your inner thigh. Wherever he pressed, you felt some pain.
"What on earth are you doin-"
"I advise you to shut up before I change my mind."
And so you did, still unsure of what was happening. Why was this man touching your skin when you could have sworn, he wasn't interested in any kind of human physical touch. He was toying with you, enjoying the way your heart was racing in your chest, how you struggled to free your hands from his relentless grasp, and how you tried so hard to stay calm when he knew your mind was racing 180 miles per hour and off the cliff.
"Such a simple human," he mocked, his fingers brushing way too close to your underwear to go unnoticed, and your hips bucked up to create just a little more distance. This had to be another kind of torture and he was having fun making you so pliable. His eyes never left your face and you struggled to maintain eye contact. "What if I opened a mouth on the palm of my hand right now?" he teased, and you didn't get the subtext at first, but once you did, the vision struck you in a way it shouldn't have.
"Christ, you're more perverted than I suspected a curse would be," you muttered, turning your head to the side, creating an opening for him to kiss the tear off your cheek.
"You don't know much about curses, sweetheart," he laughed directly into your ear, brushing it with his lips as he moved his hand higher, sliding it under your blouse to your hip. "There are some mindless curses out there that only focus on sexually abusing their victims." This wasn't happening, this couldn't be happening. But his tone didn’t change, he was amused more than anything. "But I'm not a simple, horny curse, don't be so afraid. I'm the king."
"For a king, you do kinda often need to remind people about it..." you muttered, breathing in and out, focusing on this simple thing to avoid turning into a mess.
"Remember my advice?"
"Yup."
You closed your mouth and a wave of pulsating pain washed over your whole body again, radiating from your head as if a bomb had just exploded here. You closed your eyes tightly, tears once again threatening to flow from under your squeezed eyelashes. It hurt so much that you couldn't think straight, everything was blurry and you had trouble even recognizing the man above you. You wanted to pull your hands out of his hold, to put them on your temples, to do anything to ease the throbbing ache, but he wouldn't let you.
His hand pressed against your forehead. A moment later, the grip on your wrists loosened and the man rolled off you, taking a place beside you and pulling you into his chest. When you opened your eyes, no sign of black marks met your sight.
"Did he help you?" Yuji asked, his voice soft and cooing, but with worry clearly intertwined with his words. "Does it still hurt?"
"Huh?"
"Your head, does it hurt?"
"No... You asked him for it?"
"Yeah... I noticed you were in pain today, but you tried to play it off as nothing. And you didn't sleep and cried and I saw how many pills you took and still hurt," he spoke so softly, kissing your head tenderly and caressing your back with care and affection. "I'm sorry, I guess he had to scare you a little because, you know... ego."
"Thank you, baby," you pressed your lips to his chest, nuzzling into him even more.
"Oh, don't be, you know I'd do anything for you."
Next day you noticed that every bruise you had on your body wasn’t there anymore. Every hurt you earned through your every day clumsiness and trainings disappeared.
So that’s why Sukuna was touching you.
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aluciahaz · 2 months
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Omfggg ur writing is SO unbelievably good i love it sm 😭🙏🙏
I got kind of a prompt for a sub!vox x gn (maybe afab) reader ✨ Okay so what if, since we all know vox is OBVIOUSLY a bratty bottom, the reader fucks the brattiness out of him? And he goes from trying to be a dom, to resistant bottom, to bratty bottom, to just begging to come with all his life, maybe even crying cuz the reader won’t let him
TYSM!!!! im glad you think my writing’s good ❤️ALSO FINALLY A VOX REQ AGHH
i have like 50094949 drafts for like all of the other stuff in my inbox but i just have to write this vox fic first ok im self indulgent i apologize 😭
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—vox x gn!reader
—includes : sub!vox, dom!reader, light bondage, edging
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vox is so obvious.
he clearly has a thing for control. a need, a desire. it was practically his core personality trait. yet, he’s most certainly not made to wield it.
sure, he can try and sweet talk you, saying sultry things and bragging about his power in order to get you to feel below his level. but you know how frail that persona is. a single slip up, and it would all come crashing down into deafening static.
which, was almost impressively easy to do.
his claw-like fingers runs up your neck, one of them stopping at your cheek as he smirked. if he wasn’t careful, he could fuck up and draw blood. he was tip-toeing the small line here.
a small line that if he crossed, you’d switch up this silly little game immediately, taking the control of the show and making him the contestant.
live only for you.
but, you entertain his farce of dominance, a smile playing on your lips as you see what he has in store…if he had anything, that is.
“you’ve been waiting for me all day, haven’t you?” he asks, clearly rhetorical as he caresses your cheek gently, his voice steady as he speaks. he leads you down to the bed with teeth raking your neck as he crawls over you. there’s something fun about watching him try and fluster you, to get you to say the things he wants. but you were no people pleaser.
“perhaps. unfortunately i can’t say the same for you,” you respond, your smile forming into more of a smirk at the ends of your lips as your hands snake around his delicate waist, tightening around it like a corset.
you can already see the hesitation in his eyes, the brief moment of surprise at your sudden grasp. it was too easy to surprise this man. it’s a wonder he hasn’t exploded yet.
“what do you mean by that?” he asks, his eyebrows furrowing in both nervousness and curiosity, almost like he didn’t want to know. the fingers on your cheek seem to barely just get too rough as he looked at you.
“don’t act like i didn’t hear you in the office this morning, moaning my name like some prayer,” you mock, your knee slotting between his legs with ease. vox keels over at the sudden feeling, a sharp gasp getting punched out of his system with little effort.
“impatient.”
“what’s the big deal? am i not allowed to jerk off anymore?” he complains, bringing himself back up to his hand and knees over you as he glares with indignation.
“i told you to wait.”
“and i don’t remember needing to!” vox snarled, the grasp on your face tightening until you saw him pull it away, a droplet of blood adorning his finger.
simply unacceptable.
instantly, with a loud yelp of complaint and confusion, he hits the mattress with a thud, cursing in annoyance as he looks up at you. his face, once filled with irritation, shifted into one of almost astonished fear as he gazed upon your expression, cold and unforgiving.
“i’ll make you remember.”
his screen flickers before going back to normal, his face scrunched up in anger as he spat out his unwise words.
“i’d like to see you try.”
so, try you did.
his hands were cuffed with plush handcuffs to the bed-frame—you know he wouldn’t be able to handle real ones—and of course since he was never good with self-control, he had a cock ring on as a ‘treat’.
you’re delighted by how much of a fight he puts up though. considering how fragile his ego is, you were sure that he’d melt into your hands the moment you bound him to the bed.
“this is your plan?” vox rolled his eyes, watching you pour lubricant on your fingers with an unimpressed look. “not very impressive. you’ll need more—ngh! shit! give a guy some warning—!”
“beggars can’t be choosers.”
“i don’t fucking beg—!”
“you will.”
there was no mercy from that point forth. one finger after the other, shocks of electricity would course through his veins, mouth agape as your quick hand inside kept making him feel sparks of pleasure through his entire body.
“let me—cum! ass—zz—hole!” he shouted, tugging at the handcuffs to no avail. he wanted to touch himself so bad, yet you were adamant.
“if you ask nicely, maybe,” you tell him, circling your fingers before pressing deep onto that electric spot again, making him cry out in frustration and enjoyment.
all he could do was shoot you a disgusted look before yelling once more, kicking the blanket underneath him in exasperation. his anguish crackled through his veins like a current, trying to fight the urge to just submit.
but it was all too much. he was weak, even if he convinces all of hell that he’s not, he wouldn’t be able to fool you. the bucks of your fingers were replaced with the movement of your hips, making him wail for more.
an hour had passed, and his indignant claims of “i don’t feel anything!” or “you’ll never get me to beg!” shifted into more pleasant glitching screams of “don’t stop!” and “please, more!”
finally, he was using his manners.
“let me cum—ple—zz—se! i c-can’t—!” vox cried out as you quicken the pace, thrashing underneath you with his legs now wrapped around your waist, holding for dear life as you drive into him.
“i—hic—mm! ‘m s—zz—sorry! ‘msorry-AH! sorry!” his back curves off the bed as he squirms, crying in earnest now. tears fell his face with broken pixels blinking in and out underneath, his screen cutting at random points to an error warning from the overstimulation.
“pathetic,” you spit out, your hands digging into his hips as you practically manhandled the man, making him move once he lost all the energy to match your movements. “you listen to me. you do what i say, and you don’t talk back.”
you hear him shriek desperately as you grab his cock, red and weeping as you overwhelm him with pleasure, but never letting him over the edge.
“do you understand? you’re mine.”
you run your finger underneath his tip, and you see him glitch out into an expression you truly loved.
his screen was tear stained and his were graphics broken, yet it was clear enough to see the hypnotizing hearts that pulsated in his eyes as he yelled in defeat, small whimpers leaving his ruined throat as he babbled on and on.
“yours! your—yours! ngh—! please! pl—let me cum! plea—zz—oh, FUCK!”
his whole body trembles from need like electricity burned his skin. his legs fall from your waist, too weak to hold them around you anymore, yet you catch them, pushing the underside of his thighs until he was folded in half.
“cum for me then.”
instantly, vox does as you say as you slip the cock ring off of him, his wails loud enough to shake the room as he finds his release. his screen completely blanks out for a second as a shock flitters around his wrists, frying the cuffs and making them break into two before slumping back down to the bed.
you can’t even scold him for letting his powers go rampant before he pulls you over him, wrapping his arms around you as he sniffles into your ear.
“thank you—hic—thank…thank…”
this big baby. you sigh, rubbing your hands on his sides gently as you kiss his cheek. “yeah, yeah. just remember this the next time you think about acting out, okay?” you said quietly, feeling him nod into your shoulder as he starts to slowly relax.
but as per usual, he apparently forgets what you taught him in the next week.
fortunately, you’re a patient teacher. and you’ll remind him again and again about the lessons he foolishly dismisses.
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sorry that this is shit 💀 i tried my best but the writing juices arent flowing this week😭 hopefully this weekend i wont have writer’s block and will blast through all yall’s reqs!! trust me, im working on them <3
tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @drlucichen @mvskedxrtist
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simping-acefully · 3 months
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Ep 3 got me acting really unwise
Nsfw headcanons for Laios under the cut (gn unspecified partner for Laios)
Warnings: NSFWish, probably ooc, reader insert implied?, probably not very sexy because I used this for character analysis.
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Laios is very attentive, though he's also very insecure when it comes to engaging with others. So I imagine he'd be a little clumsy, though very eager to provide the best aftercare for his partner. He's also very cuddly.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
The favorite part of his own body are his hands. They are strong and calloused, and he's used them to protect others and to create new stuff! (Aka, cooking) the fact that those hands can also help him please a partner is a plus.
On a partner? Probably lips. I imagine Laios struggles to read people's facial expressions (the 'tism go brr) but seeing his partner's smile is reassuring. He also really likes running his thumb over them and maybe getting his fingers nibbled.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
He cums a lot.He has tasted his own cum out of curiosity in the past, too. And if he had a partner that ejaculated or squirted he would be delighted to taste it all.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He has probably jerked off to thoughts of his partner before they get together and it's eating him alive :(
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Zero experience, lots of book knowledge though! He's confused but he's got the spirit. Will need some leading at first, but he's a quick learner and is curious enough to experiment and try new things once he's gained confidence.
As an ace myself, I like to think that Laios is either ace too, or has a low drive and thus, sexual intimacy is a matter of doing something intimate and unique with a partner.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Any position that will allow him to see his partner's face for smooching! The emotional intimacy is the most important part for him.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
He tries to be serious to the point he's almost uptight. But his clumsy and eager nature ends up organically devolving into somewhat goofy intimacy.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
The carpet matches the drapes, but this man keeps it all natural because ?? Why would he waste time/energy on such things??? (Aka, he's not used to grooming the area, but he would do an effort if asked)
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Very!! The main driving force for the act. Laios is constantly kissing and checking with his partner. He loves them so much and this is a physical way to convey those feelings!
He holds hands with his partner, kisses their face and neck and tries to keep them as close as possible, the mental image of melting into a puddle together comes to mind.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Doesn't do it often, but when he does it's more of a thing of connecting with his own body than getting rid of any urges. He won't be able to get off unless he's in a good mood.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Has a wee bit of a praise kink that he doesn't fully understand.
Shibari is one he wants to delve into, too. There's something to be said about the artistry of the knots, and the feeling of compression can be quite comforting.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Probably his partner's bed. He shares a room with Falin, so intimacy on his place is a no-no. He doesn't particularly enjoy motels or inns either because he feels kind of self conscious/pressured to perform within a time limit. He was to take things slow and he wants to cuddle to sleep afterwards, dammit!
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
I think his biggest driving force is an emotional connection. He craves to be understood and loved, so feeling that coming from his partner will make him want to show his appreciation in a physical way.
Probably jealousy is another good way to make Laios seek out his partner. He wants reassurance, to kill any doubts in his mind and any lingering feelings of inadequacy.
Also adrenaline too! Sometimes when the blood is pumping, his mind wanders. If he and his partner just were in a situation of danger, the physical reminder that they are there, alive and safe will make him desperate to feel them.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Doesn't like/understand degradation, and wouldn't do anything that he felt could hurt his partner.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
He prefers to give, and lives for pleasing his partner! He's not very skilled at first, but he's very observant and receptive, so he gets the hang of what his partner likes even if they do not say so themselves.
However, after getting head himself, he's hooked. He loves it, he loves the look on his partner's eyes and the physical feeling is overwhelming on the best possible way.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Usually slow and sensual, unless he just had a life or death situation with his partner, then he's desperate and anxious.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Not one to really go for quickies, but if he's on the rare mood for one, he'll be sure to get and give lots of affection.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Laios would be interested in trying everything at least once. He's curious and inquisitive, and just as he is fascinated by monsters, he's fascinated by his partner and wants to learn what turns them on, and see what also works for him
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Stamina for days! He can last one very long round. If he didn't get sleepy and cuddly afterwards, he could probably do more, but hnnnggg comfy
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
He doesn't own toys, but if introduced to them he's up for trying pretty much anything, both on himself and his partner.
I can see him growing particularly attached to non-human looking dildos/strap-ons and ropes.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He's not much of a tease, but he low-key enjoys being teased. He doesn't seem to understand it, or be fully aware of the fact, but yeah.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Not particularly loud out the impulse to self restrain, but Laios is a whiner. He can get pretty loud when he's about to cum though.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Would love to roleplay as a monster with their partner but when he did bring up the idea he got laughed off and passed it off as a joke. It was not a joke.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
I like to think that it would kind of mimic his silhouette, length slightly above average and overall on the thicker side. The widest point is right after the head.
Not very high at all. I kinda imagine Laios on the gray sexual spectrum so, it only becomes a thought after he begins pining for his eventual partner. It starts with him wondering how soft their hands would be, how about their neck and lips? And it eventually escalates to wandering thoughts of intimacy.
Once he does become intimate with a partner, he longs for intimacy more than he longs for sex itself.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
VERY. He's an eepy man.
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bruciemilf · 1 year
Text
Need an AU where Bruce, after a particularly nasty fight with Dick, pays a visit to Dr. Fate,
It wasn't meant to happen. There's no such thing as a good patrol, but Dami wasn't supposed to get hurt. He wasn't supposed to hold back sobbing under Alfred's stitches.
Because kids aren't made for that. Kids aren't made for pain and agony. Kids aren't made to suffer quietly.
Dami reaches for him, face shining with sweat, and Bruce reaches back, " It's okay, Damian. You'll be fine,"
"Okay?!" Dick's anger is like a knife dragged on skin. He doesn't sound angry. Bruce works well with that. He sounds like someone whose baby brother is bleeding on their hands. Distraught and wrecked. "Nothing about this is okay. And you're going to act like this is normal?"
" Dick, now's not the time, --"
" No, little wing, it is. When I met Damian, -- I swore, that I wouldn't let Gotham break him like it broke you. That I'd never fail like Bruce failed you. Because that's what you do, isn't it? You're ruin. We're in pain, and you put us here."
And there's no real argument to be made. No rebuttal, no verbal combat. Bruce's words don't matter. The shatter in his heart doesn't matter. That flood of poisoning sadness stabbing his stomach doesn't matter.
Because Dick wasn't hateful. He wasn't angry. He was simply truthful. And it's no longer fair to pretend otherwise.
He accepts it with his head lowered and a mission in mind. He pretends every hair doesn't stiffen and his skin doesn't freeze when Damian's chokes, " Baba, don't go,"
But he knows what he has to do. And he knows Dr. Fate does, too.
"Erasing you from the chapters of time would be unwise. You are balance. It's also massively selfish, but I don't need to tell you that. Legends aren't legends by belonging to themselves. The world needs Barman,"
"But not Bruce Wayne."
Dr. Fate doesn't disagree.
"From the moment they met you. All memories. Everyone you've ever known isn't allowed to know you?''
He doesn't hesitate. Not even once, " Yes.''
"Be careful what you wish for, Wayne," But Dr. Fate glows, with brilliant white and gold, and Bruce's body quivers. God, he hates magic. "One day, it might come true."
---
Clark blinked.
"Sir? Are you okay?"
He wasn't sure why he was dizzy. He wasn't sure why he was standing in the middle of a jewelry store. "Oh, yes, I'm good. Sorry, just...I'll go now. I think I walked here by mistake."
The cashier gives him an understanding look, sending him off with a congratulations on the way.
He wast sure why she was congratulating him.
Why was he holding an engagement ring?
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stonedcoldfoxtarot · 9 months
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What was your crush thinking & feeling the last time they saw you?
Pile 1 -> Pile 2
Pile 3 -> Pile 4
Pile 1
AoP, 7oP, Moon, AoW, KnoC, 59oC, 10oS, Devil, 8oS (AoC)
Pile 1, your crush feels like you're their missing puzzle piece. For several years, they’ve felt incomplete or that something was missing from their life until they met you. For some, they’ve felt this way from the moment they laid eyes on you. As cliche as it sounds, this person feels that from the moment you walked into their life it’s as if the clouds parted and an angel descended from heaven into their world. Their desire for you runs deep, Pile 1, but they may be hiding their feelings for now. They don't want to scare you away or give the impression that all they desire is a physical relationship. Nonetheless, every time they see you, it requires a great deal of self-control to refrain from expressing how they truly feel.
The last time your crush saw you, they thought about asking you out but they chickened out and missed their chance. For some, they felt that the timing or location wasn't right and didn't want to risk scaring you away. This person might have a deep fear of rejection or think that you're so attractive and out of their league that if they made a move, you would probably reject them harshly or laugh in their face. They genuinely have feelings for you, so each time they try to psych themselves up but end up getting nervous. You might notice them engaging in small talk with you or making small gestures of affection or appreciation as an attempt to get closer to you. The last time this individual saw you, it hit them hard - they realized that they are head over heels in love with you.
Channelled Song: Cherish the Day by Sade
Pile 2
7oS, 10oW, 8oW, AoC, 5oC, Judgement, 9oW, 2oW (8oS)
The last time your crush laid eyes on you, Pile 2, they had this crazy urge to throw caution to the wind and run away with you. You made them feel like taking a leap of faith, whether it's just for one night or for a lifetime together. At that moment, all their problems seemed insignificant compared to the possibility of being with you. Your crush probably has a lot on their plate and often daydreams about a different life—one where it's just the two of you without any distractions or interference from others. Maybe they're already in another relationship or simply not ready for commitment right now. But despite all that, when they saw you last time, they couldn't help but entertain the thought of confessing their love for you anyway.
The last time they saw you, despite being excited they also felt a lot of disappointment and sadness about having to push down their true emotions and use their better judgment when it comes to this connection. Deep down, this person knows that you're the one for them, but they’ve decided to stay guarded against those feelings for now. Maybe they're waiting for things in their life to clear up before making a move towards you. But right now, they're choosing to just appreciate you from afar.
Channelled Song: Don’t Want to Miss a Thing by Aerosmith
Pile 3
8oP, 7oP, Fool (rev), 2oC, HP, 6oW (rev), 5oC, 8oW (Hermit)
Pile 3, you and your crush could work together or you may have met while either one or both of you were on the clock. When your crush last saw you, they kept things professional despite wanting to open up and speak or act further. They may have felt that it would have been foolish or unwise at the time due to others overhearing and making assumptions about your connection.
Pile 3, your crush deeply desires to start a relationship with you but they feel they would have to keep things between you two secret for now. Not because they want to sneak around or hide you - quite the opposite! They are afraid that once people know you two are together, they will try to turn you both against each other or find ways to sabotage the connection. They don’t want anything to come between this connection, so for now when they see you, especially at work, they play it cool and pretend to be focused on the tasks at hand. Despite this, they are ready to move things forward and come together publicly as a couple once the time is right.
Channelled Song: When I’m in Your Arms by Cleo Sol
Pile 4
7oS, 9oC, 5oS, HM, 10oC, Devil, 3oS, AoW, Judgement, Fool, 2oW, 6oP (KnoC)
Pile 4, it seems like your crush has mixed and conflicting thoughts and emotions about you. For some, this could have been a past sneaky link connection or someone who was “off limits” to you in some way. For others, they may see being with you as something forbidden or taboo, which only intensifies their desire.
You're the person of their dreams, Pile 4, not just in looks but also in personality and intelligence. In their eyes, you're the whole package. The moment they last laid eyes on you, they felt a sudden ache of longing to be with you. Unfortunately, this person might be sacrificing their own happiness to please others or conform to their family's expectations. It's sad because this has led them to become almost obsessed with you and it's slowly breaking their heart that they're not making a move towards you.
When they saw you last, all they could think about was how much they desire you and how desperately they dream about running away with you and starting a life together. However, reality quickly brought them back down to earth and most likely all they could offer at that time was kind words, a smile or maybe even an invitation for a casual hangout. Your crush genuinely likes you but in order for things to progress between the two of you, they need to stop caring so much about what others think and start living life on their own terms.
Channelled Song: If It Makes You Happy by Sheryl Crow
Thanks for reading🔮✨
© 2023 stonedcoldfoxtarot. All rights reserved. Please do not copy, translate, edit or redistribute.
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enditen · 10 months
Text
birds of a feather
summary: a bit of understandable anger toward your fiancé for— in your eyes— unwise decisions leads to hurt feelings and avoidance. thankfully, the two of you come back together in the most interesting of places.
word count: 4090ish.
rating: m
warnings: public sexual acts. talk of death ( rooster's, goose's and carole's ). angst. two adults being stubborn fools. talk about breasts. talk about ruining hawaiian shirts and dress whites. kind of playing around with naval deployments and what not.
pairing: bradley ( rooster ) bradshaw x female reader ( callsign vulture )
author's note: hi, first fic in this fandom that was simply supposed to be hot titty fucking with a title of a tit for a cock and then turned into 4k of angst then some titty fucking. some of you might recognize me from another fandom on here on tumblr to which if you do, hi y'all. also i feel like i missed tags and i'm sorry about that. assuming i write more for this because i've gotten over my nervousness i'll learn. and special thanks to @blurredcolour for being a little cheerleader
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You’re beginning to wonder if there’s just something about Maverick that just turns everyone around him a bit stupid. You like to think that most of the team surrounding your fiancé aren’t idiots and yet there you were being proven completely wrong as you listened to Bradley explain what exactly had happened on the mission.

“That’s not what he meant when he said don’t think!” You remembered screaming into the phone, knowing fully well that while Mav was his own special brand of stupid- and deliriously lucky he wasn’t the same level of pure unadulterated idiocy Bradley was displaying.
“It worked out!” Was somehow his raspy defense and it had taken all your self control to not hang up the phone right then and there, the sheer unmitigated aggravation seeping through your pores As it stood, what you did end up doing was letting out the world’s most put upon sigh as you rolled your eyes.

“You’re just lucky Mav didn’t have to bury another bird.” At Rooster’s sharp inhale you started to speak again. “I didn’t mean it— I’m just—”

“No. I get it, Vulture,” he spat out your callsign, a definite sign that he’s pissed and you had struck a nerve you honestly shouldn’t have right in that moment before you heard something in the background. “You don’t have to come get me, I’ll get home fine.”

The silence after he hung up feels almost as all consuming as the idea of him dying was.
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It’s always been a thing that when one of you comes back from deployment or from a mission or from visiting friends who are stationed somewhere else that you pick one another up. Some of your friends call it silly, but for you and Rooster it works. You’ve always wanted to be together all the time but at the same time— when opportunities present themselves you’ve never been the type to ignore them. Hell, even if you wanted to, the other one would just argue against ignoring the opportunity. That’s why you found yourself here, waiting for Rooster to come back from what should have been a mission he didn’t come back from. What was almost a mission he didn’t come back from. You wonder if this is how his mom felt with his father and if the reason she never wanted him to become a pilot like this is to avoid anyone else having her fate. You see Rooster walking with Hangman and are about to lean out of the car to tell him to get his ass in the car before he sees you through your windshield. The look he gives you is one of aggravation and hurt that you’ve so rarely seen on his face that it practically pins you to your seat in the car. You've seen those brown eyes look at you with so much love and you've made jokes comparing them to warm chocolate more than once but in this moment— all they do is remind you of a hardened and unbreakable tree.

He shakes his head before turning to keep talking to Hangman, laughing at some probable dumb joke the man said and you swear your stomach drops through the floor of the car. You hadn’t thought he was serious about not wanting you to come get him and here he was getting into someone else’s car to go— home? Maybe, or maybe he was going to crash on Hangman’s couch or find— no. No, for all that Rooster was angry with the slip of your tongue he would never cheat on you. He loves you in a way that makes other people sick and makes Maverick and Penny tell you that yeah, you kind of remind them of his dad and Carole.

Still, he’s never been this angry at you and that terrifies you in ways that you can’t put into words. You’ve flown dangerous missions that didn’t terrify you as much as the look on Rooster’s face did right in that moment. After what feels like hours, but is only really ten minutes you pull out of the area you were parked in and head home. You don’t realize Hangman hasn’t left and that Rooster watches you leave from his side of the truck. 

“She couldn’t have done anything that bad, man.” Jake tries to reason as he puts the truck in reverse. 

“You don’t know her like I do," he scoffs, shaking his head and slipping on his aviators. "I forgot why she’s called Vulture. Just— Just drive.”
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You suppose it's a mercy that you see Rooster the next morning, making coffee as if he didn't break your tradition with one glance through a car windshield. Suppose you should be thankful he's back home and in your kitchen and not back home in a casket, but you've never been one to allow yourself simple pleasures like that when you're hurt. When your heart's twisted into the version of itself that only releases anger and toxic fumes to push away everyone you hold dear.

That anger has your mouth moving before your brain can catch up and make you see sense. All you know is that the man you love hasn't said one word to you since that phone call and he's only making one cup of coffee and not two. Another tradition broken and you can only see red.

"Are you ignoring me?" You ask the moment he turns around, sipping his coffee without seemingly a care in the world.

Bradley isn't necessarily the more verbose out of the two of you, but he's never particularly short with you. Today is the exception, much like everything about the past two days.

"No." A pause as he sets down his coffee cup and you see a bit of coffee clinging to his upper lip and that stupid little mustache you've grown to love over the years. "Maybe."

"Maybe," you parrot, moving over to where he's standing and watching as he moves just far enough away to allow you to grab your own cup and your own specific pod to make your coffee. "You nearly die, I say something stupid and now you're acting like a moody teenager. Cute, Roo."

Roo. Not even Rooster and certainly not his name because he certainly doesn't deserve it in this moment. You watches as his eyes drift over your body, noting how you're wearing one of his favorite Hawaiian shirts with the top buttons unbuttoned, revealing skin that normally he'd have covered in kisses a thousand times over since he returned last night. Instead it's unmarred by his lips and teeth and you're as vicious as can be. Two can play that game. Two can be childish.

"I'm sorry, something stupid. No— no, you didn't say something stupid. You said something cruel. That's a big difference, babe. One is normal, the other is you reminding me that I could have left you alone just like my mom was. Like that didn't go through my head. Like Maverick didn't tell me that much while we were heading back. "

A laugh erupts from deep inside your chest as you turn to look at Rooster. "Did it really go through your head? Did you think I'm throwing away my life with Vulture because I need to save someone who ruined parts of my life? Or did your brain get scrambled from the G's?"

You watch as eyes that you love start to fill with something resembling tears as his hand clenches the coffee cup. He loves you, he knows that to be a simple fact. He loves you. His father loved him and his mother. Mav loves him and loved his father and his mother. And you love him. In this moment though, that last one feels like a joke, feels like a dagger twisting in his chest. Maybe you don't love him if this is what you want to spew at him. You're a woman who should have had a callsign of Viper but only gets Vulture because you can handle things other people couldn't. You take care of things other people wouldn't or couldn't. He supposes you taking on all of those things is what makes you the way you are.

"It's what my dad would have done," he forces the words out and tries to not cry because you know what that means to him. You know know better than anyone. "I was his wingman."

"And what about my wingman, Bradley?" Your question comes out softer than you mean it to even as you slam your coffee pod into the machine. Somehow tears start to tease the edge of your eye line. "You were just going to leave me without mine. You really are your father's son. Guess I should be happy we don't have a little you running around. That's a little too on the nose."

The slam of the coffee cup startles you more than anything you've thought was possible in that moment and yet without missing a beat you turn to face Rooster once again in time for you to see angry tears falling from his eyes. "I'm not doing this. You're— I didn't leave you. You're not having to bury me and you're not having to be by my side as I bury the closest thing I have to a father now. That is what should matter. Not what I did. What I know you would have done for some people. What you'd have done for Phoenix alone. I'm here in our kitchen wearing my engagement ring and you're just wearing my shirt and not sobbing into it because it's the closest thing that smells like me. Let it go." He takes a moment to take a shaky breath and starts to move toward you. "I made a mistake but I don't regret it. Let. It. Go."

If you were younger, if you were the same girl Rooster met all those years ago you'd have taken your ring off and slammed it on the counter right next to his coffee cup in a fit of anger. You're older now, same as Bradley and you stop yourself even as your hand inches toward your ring finger. Bradley's always been taller than you unless you're in heels and it forces you to look up at him. "You forget who you're wanting to marry, Bradshaw. I'm— I'm not letting this go. Just— you know what, sleep on the couch, do whatever. I don't care— you're not sleeping in our bed. Especially if you want to act like I meant to say what I said in the first place. You want to ignore me? Fine. Then do that."

You see Bradley's jaw tense, and watch the way it moves as you normally would enjoy before he speaks. "Wasn't planning on sleeping there for a while anyway. Enjoy your coffee, Y/N."
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Ever since you had started dating, you and Bradley had talked every single day. No matter the fight, no matter what happened between you two you would never let something like this drag on for so long. Life was short after all and you two were both vividly aware of that.

This time though, this time it drags on for two weeks and you have a half right mind to stand in front of Bradley until he talks until you realize from how even Phoenix looks at you while at the Hard Deck that it wouldn't help. It truthfully might make things worse. So you let him stew and he lets you stew. You miss him and you like to think he misses you but you're both very stubborn people who know how to hold grudges with the best of them.

It's strange, ignoring someone you love in your own house but sometimes you'd like to argue that you and Bradley are strange people. Normal most of the time but with those small little scars inside and out that make you do strange things. Strange things like make sure your dress whites are ready to go the day of what you think is a ceremony— honestly you hadn't paid attention for once to the notice. That's what you do with someone you love and someone you care about— not someone you're still so angry with that it hurts to talk to them.

You arrive separately to questioning looks from most of the Dagger Squad and Maverick but you both shrug and smile them off even as you stay apart most of the night. What you both don't realize is that the other is sneaking glances when one of you looks away. Your eyes take in the man who you think— you hope— is still going to be your future husband and bemoan the fact that he can't wear this uniform everywhere. There's something special about seeing him all dressed in white and looking every bit a dashing naval aviator.

His eyes? Oh, his eyes take in the woman he knows he's still going to marry if one of you would just break already. They take in you in white which you hate wearing because it shows off everything and stains and all those silly things you say. They take in how your jacket contains your chest but how the buttons strain just a little and how he knows that you're probably wearing a lace bra that he loves underneath it. He knows how that bra feels against his hands when he cups your breasts and squeezes them in his hands. Your chest is a work of art sometimes— all the time really and he hasn't touched in over two weeks.

Jake is the one who notices how Bradley's eyes haven't left you for a few minutes and notices how he's shifting in place— fidgeting in a way he's never seen him.

"She's been staring at you too," the blonde chuckles. "This is— This is every bad high school dance and military ball I've ever been to rolled into one. Go over to her, Rooster. Stop pining, man."

Bradley wants to defend himself but he turns to look at you again only to catch your eyes and how they slide down his body before stopping at his crotch and— he finds most logic and sense goes out the window. Like two magnets drawn to one another you both find yourselves by each other's sides, with hands grazing each other's hips.

"I—" He starts before you shake your head.

"I was being cruel. You've— We both know I get like that and I was terrified, Bradley. I saw our lives flashing before my eyes the second I found. It was gone in an instant. That doesn't excuse—" Your words are cut off with a soft kiss that you're both endlessly thankful no one sees.

"Babe. Trust me, I know I was an idiot and that same vision you had? Yeah, you weren't the only one. I swear I heard my mom and my dad yelling at me." His words are soft as he nuzzles his nose against yours, laughing softly when you scrunch up your nose because of his mustache. "I'm sorry."

You sniffle a little, partially to prevent a sneeze from his mustache hair and to cover up the fact that you're a little emotional. "I'm sorry too." You take a moment to look up meet his eyes only to see how his eyes are trained on your breasts. "Lieutenant Bradshaw, are you staring at my boobs in public? At a function?"

You watch as a light dusting of color reaches his cheeks before he bites his lips. "And if I am?"

A breath leaves your mouth slowly as you move the hand that's been on his hip toward the front of his dress pants, giggling softly at the slight hardness you feel. "I'd say you should stop unless you want me to take care of this in the bathroom."

His eyes dart around the room checking to see if anyone will notice you're both gone for a bit before he laughs. "Meet you there in five?"

You practically give yourself minor whiplash as you nod quickly. "Can I keep the bra on?"

His groan almost gives the two of you and your plans away.
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The great thing, you think, about this bra, is that it makes it so easy to have Bradley stick his cock in between your breasts without taking it off. You know by the end he'll want it off, want to squeeze your breasts as he slides his cock in between them but in the beginning he's fine with this.

"I missed my girls," he groans as you press your arms against the side of your chest, pushing your breasts together even more. "Should— Should've gotten over myself and fucked you in my shirt that morning."

"You would have gotten come on your favorite Hawaiian shirt, Bradley," you try to reason with him even as your voice takes on an airy sort of quality the quicker your fingers move in between your legs. You should have taken off your pants but you realize it's a little too late for that now.

"We're probably getting come on our dress whites, babe." It's a joke but one that's likely very true from the way you can see his cock pulse and from the way your fingers— even through the articles of clothing you're wearing sound so obscene as they squelch and slide between your folds. "Would've made it better. Fuck, swear this bra does something to your tits."

"It's a bra? A dressy one? That's the point?" You can't help but giggle as he moves faster, his cock gilding against the soft skin of your breasts. "You getting close baby?"

"Lil bit," he grunts out, his hand moving to try and grasp at one of your nipples. "You wanna free them? Let your nipples join in on the fun?"

"You just wanna smear them with precome, Bradshaw, you're not slick." It's not a no, and your hands move to start undoing your bra even as you look up and see Bradley with the dumbest smirk you've ever seen him have. "Why are you—"

"You're slick though," he pulls his cock out from between your breasts and bends down to kiss you as your bra releases your breasts. "Bad—"

"Bad dirty dad joke," you cut him off with a fond shake of your head. "At least wait until we have a little birdy before you stoop that low."

A shrug is the only answer you get as he lines his cock up with your breasts and waits for you to press them together before saying a single phrase. "Sorry. It's in my blood."

You look up at him through your eyelashes and sigh, ignoring how your heart twists a little at the faked twinkle in those brown eyes of his. Instead you bend your head down just a little to lick a small kitten lick at the head of his cock. "Doomed to those jokes for the rest of my life as Mrs. Bradshaw. What have I done?"

A shudder ripples through him at your lick and he has to force himself to not come right then and there all over your perfectly made up face. He wants to though, wants to see you debauched like you should have been the second he came home and was alive and in your arms. He should have painted your face white. Should have made it so there was a stain on his favorite shirt that he'd wear proudly because it'd tell everyone how needy you two were for each other. It'd remind everyone that he's taken by the most vicious, intelligent, and vivacious woman he's ever met. It'd remind him that you missed him that much that you couldn't bear to be apart from some part of him for too long.

He didn't though and he can't right now but tonight when you're home and laying across your shared bed maybe he can do it then and watch as your lips try and lick bits off your face. The image he paints in his mind is something else and it has him clenching the fabric of your jacket before his own hands move to play with the tops of your breasts. The action earns a low whine from you, wanting more of his large hands on you, his thumbs playing with your nipples as he kisses you. You two have to make this quick though and it shows in how Bradley's thrusts increase in speed and how he motions for you to do something— anything— with your boobs and your hands until you finally catch onto his meaning.

"You are so boob drunk, Bradley," you mutter as your hand wraps around the part of his cock not between your breasts. With every thrust up you manage a lick or two just to tease him until you see his thrusts getting messier and less controlled.

A breathless low chuckle leaves him. "Nah, just you drunk. Fuck, babe, Y/N. I'm— let him go. Gonna—"

"Cum on them. Just cum on them. I'll wipe it off."

You look up with all the confidence in the world to see him with blown out pupils and a wet lips from where he's bitten them to keep quiet. "You su—" You cut him off with an almost violent nod that has the head of his cock brushing your chin as he does. "Okay okay."

What happens next is a flurry of limbs and grunts and low whines from you and Bradley as you chase your respective highs. Bradley comes first, hips stuttering, painting your chest with his cum, pearly white and just uncontrolled enough that some lands on your lips and chin and another bit lands on your dress shirt, narrowly avoiding your jacket. Your name falls from his lips easily as you look up at him, your fingers curling just so inside of you as he reaches out to cup your cheek his brown eyes so full of love, arousal and adoration that you come with a silent cry, your body threatening to fall forward from the sheer intensity but his strong hands are there to stop you.

You both lean back— him against the wall and you on your knees- catching your breath before he moves to grab paper towels, wetting them just enough for you to clean his release off of you. He embarrassingly lets out something close to a childish whine as he watches you lick the traces of come off your lips until you raise an eyebrow at him and his hardening cock.

"When we get home." You both manage to say at the same time before letting out matching peals of laughter. After a moment where you both can't keep a straight face Bradley starts to tuck himself inside his dress pants and you start to button your shirt back up before he pulls you up with an ease that marvels you even to this day. You feel the warmth of his large hand through your shirt as he straightens it out, making sure it's regulation ready. He winces at the slight stain of his come near your shoulder before remembering you still have to get your jacket on. His hands make quick work of the buttons and he notes with pride the only sliver of come one can see is easily explained away as water.

You can't help but bite your lip at Bradley when you see him looking down at you, inspecting his handiwork. Almost as if he realizes you're staring he meets your eyes and smiles this stupid half smile that makes his mustache look far cuter than it has any right to be and has his eyes dancing with mirth.

"Come on Lieutenant Bradshaw, they're gonna notice if we stay here," he tries to school his face into something resembling a serious look before he chuckles softly.

"Aye aye, Lieutenant Bradshaw." A pause. "You can't call me by your last name yet, you know."

He shrugs, unlocking the door as he wraps his arm around your waist. "I almost died. I can do it if I want. Besides, saw your thighs tense up."

You tamp down on the urge to slap his arm playfully as your own arm moves to snake around his waist. "You're lucky I love you."

"Yeah,' he stops right before you reach the door to reenter the hall and presses you just lightly against the wall. "I love you too."
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