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roosterforme · 1 year

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Gonna Make You Sweat | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is determined to get back in peak physical condition, but you are more of a distraction than he anticipated.

Warnings: Fluff and smut

Length: 2000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots! (But it can be read on its own) Check my masterlist in my profile for the reading order!

Bradley had finally graduated from physical therapy, and while he had regained full use of his left arm, the scarring was still very much present. He hated the way it looked, but there wasn't much he could do about it.

But what he could do, was get himself back in top shape before he married you. His physical therapist had given him the green light to work out as much as he wanted to, and he decided to buy a weight bench for the garage.

"We don't really even use the garage, and this way we can have a home gym," he told you as he ordered everything online from his spot on the couch.

You climbed into his lap and took his phone out of his hand. "Promise me you aren't doing this because you think you need to, Bradley. You're very physically healthy already. You go for a run most days, and I feed you very well."

Bradley examined your face. "Don't you miss my abs, Baby Girl?"

You just shrugged against his chest and ran your fingers under his shirt and across his belly button. "They were nice. This is nice, too. And I'm going to absolutely love it when you have a dad bod someday," you said, biting your lip and moaning.

Just hearing you say the word dad had his dick signaling that it was time to be inside you, and that moan had him pushing you down onto the couch.

"A dad bod, you say? As soon as you want that to happen, you just let me know, Sweetheart," he said, yanking your shorts off as you stroked him through his jeans. You giggled as he kissed your engagement ring and slid inside you.

-------------------------------------

The gym arrived two weeks before Labor Day in what seemed like a million delivery boxes filled with pieces that needed to be assembled. Bradley coaxed you out to the garage one evening after work to help him put it together, but you weren't much help at all.

"Let's go to bed," you whined over and over again, crawling into his lap where he sat on the floor. "I like your body the way it is. You don't even need a gym."

He just chuckled, wrapping his arms around you. "Well, I just spent thousands of dollars on it, so it's staying. Need to look good for our wedding," he said, kissing your hair. "Besides, Jake has been acting weird, and everyone thinks he has a new girlfriend. I want to look better than him again so you can gloat to his girl next time we go to the beach."

You rolled your eyes so hard, Bradley had to laugh. "If Jake was seeing someone, I would know about it."

Bradley narrowed his eyes. "How?"

"Because we have girl talk all the time," you said as you nestled against his neck and rubbed your hand on his belly.

"You and Jake... have girl talk?"

"Yeah, he tells me stuff that happens and I let him know how he fucked up. I'd like to say I'm his guru," you said seriously, making Bradley laugh.

"Well he certainly needs one. Help me put the last part together so we can go to bed," he said with a yawn.

When he stepped back and inspected it, everything looked perfect. And when he started using it the following day, he was happy with his purchase. In fact, he ended up in the garage for an hour every night after he finished cleaning the kitchen from your dinner preparations.

He'd been listening to the gym playlist you made for him and really getting back into the groove of things. His arm was giving him no pain now, and he was working himself slowly up to heavier weights.

"Looking sexy, Roo," you told him when you poked your head in, raking your gaze over his body. "All hot and sweaty."

Bradley sat up on the bench and patted his thigh with his gloved hand. "Wanna join me while I take a little break," he asked you innocently.

Your lips parted and your nostrils flared, and Bradley was curious about what you would do. You were supposed to be going out for drinks with your colleagues and your boss to celebrate Bickel's upcoming promotion. But he knew you hated being late to anything work related, even a happy hour.

Bradley watched you hesitate, your hands grasping the fabric of your dress where it sat against your thighs. "No!" you said suddenly. "I know how you are, and you do this to me all the time!"

"Do what?" he asked, cocking his head like he had no idea what you were talking about.

You sighed. "You make me late for everything, Bradley. Flaunting your appeal right in front of me. But not today, sir!" you said, spinning on your heel. A few minutes later, he heard your car start, and he returned to his workout with a big grin.

--------------------------------

Bradley checked himself in the bathroom mirror before he pulled on an old tee shirt for working out. Just a week later, and he was already feeling better. He jogged through the house and let Tramp out into the back yard as he headed for the garage. He could probably squeeze a quick workout in before he needed to shower to leave for the airport.

He turned on his playlist and got to work, singing along to everything and completely losing track of time.

"Bradley! I thought you would be in the shower by now!" you said when you strolled into the garage.

He set his barbell down and turned to face you. "What time is it?"

"Their flight lands in an hour," you told him, strolling closer. You were wearing one of those romper things he both loved and hated. They looked cute, but they were annoying to take off.

He licked his lips, tasting his own sweat there, and when you got close enough he reached out and grabbed your hand. "We've got time," he said, his voice deep and raspy.

"Roo," you cautioned, pressing your lips together, but he was already pulling you down to sit on his thigh where he was straddling the bench. "You look good," you whispered, and he grabbed your chin, kissing you hard.

"Do I?" he asked between kisses.

"Mmhmm," you hummed. But you were already moaning softly, turning to face him a little more and running your hands up and down his sweaty biceps. He watched you pull away from his mouth, your tongue darting out to taste the sweat that trickled down his cheek.

Bradley could feel his balls tighten as you pulled your tongue back into your mouth before licking your lips. "You always look good," you added, pulling his shirt off and running your fingers along his flat tummy while you kissed and licked his neck.

After he made sure all of the weights were locked in place, he turned back to you, tipping you down until you were laying on your back on the bench one leg over each side. "You always look perfect," he whispered, unbuttoning your romper and guiding it carefully down your body, watching you lift your hips so he could remove it. You had skipped a bra, something he was wild about, and he hummed against your skin as he kissed your breasts.

"I wasn't kidding though," you gasped. "I liked your little belly. The precursor to the dad bod looked hot on you."

Bradley wrenched your underwear off and planted kiss after kiss on your pussy as he eased his gym shorts and boxer briefs just low enough to get his dick free. The bench was narrow, and there wasn't a lot of room to work with, but he managed to get himself in a good position to slip into your wet slit.

"Oh," you gasped, reaching for his shoulders as he leaned over you.

"Listen, Baby Girl. Whenever you wanna make me a daddy, you just let me know," he told you, moving in a steady rhythm inside you as he planted his hands on your hips for leverage. "I'll give up the abs to spend my time changing diapers instead."

"Oh!" you whined louder, biting your lip. Bradley leaned down to kiss you, and he watched a drop of his sweat land next to your mouth. He was mesmerized by your tongue darting out to taste it.

"Oh fuck, Sweetheart. I'm ready to be a daddy when you want me to be," he promised running his thumbs in soft circles along your pelvic bones as he fucked you a little harder.

"You're already my Daddy," you whispered, and Bradley thought his brain must have shut down.

His movements came stuttering to a halt just as you started whining for more. And when you looked up at him, your eyes absolutely pleading for him to keep going, you once again whispered, "Daddy?"

Bradley slowly withdrew his dick and slammed himself back into you, never taking his eyes off yours. "Oh!" you gasped. "So you like it when I call you that?"

"Say it again," he growled loudly, fucking into you so hard, the bench moved a few inches across the floor as your tits bounced wildly. He watched your eyes roll back as you moaned Daddy a little louder.

"Don't stop," he demanded, giving you everything he had left.

"I won't, Daddy," you cried out.

Bradley had no idea he would like this so much, but in fact, he fucking loved it. Now he was grabbing your waist so hard, he saw tears in your eyes as you chanted, "DAD-DY! DAD-DY! DAD-DY!" Each syllable you moaned matched perfectly with each thrust he landed.

He came so hard, his teeth were chattering. You were whimpering beneath him, completely disheveled with smeared makeup as you whined and squeezed every drop from his cock. Bradley withdrew himself from you and finger fucked his cum back inside. He leaned over you, teasing your swollen clit and working his semen into you until you were literally crying.

Then he kissed your tears away, his fingers still rammed deep inside your pussy. "Daddy loves you," he promised, as you tried to catch your breath. "You're Daddy's Baby Girl."

-----------------------------------

Bradley drove the Bronco to the San Diego International Airport with an enormous smile on his face. You had your left hand laced with his right, and he was slowly spinning your engagement ring around your finger while he drove. You had your head resting against his bicep while you selected songs from one of your playlists.

His enormous smile still remained as he parked and helped you out, walking you to the terminal with his arm wrapped around your waist. Your romper was a wrinkly mess, and you still had a small smudge of mascara below your eye, and he knew your pussy was filled with his cum. He fucking loved you.

Sex in the garage had made you late, and your parents were already waiting next to the baggage carousel when the two of you arrived.

"Oh, honey! Show me your ring!" your mom called as soon as she saw you. Bradley let you out of his grasp as you went to hug them both, and he smiled, because he knew how lucky you were to have both parents here.

Then he almost choked as he heard you greet them, "Mom! Daddy! I missed you."

Bradley shook hands with your father, but he was barely able to make eye contact with him. This was going to be a very long weekend.

------------------------------

Oh, Baby Girl, he loved that so much! Well, stay tuned for A Love You Don't Find Everyday...there will be more of Baby Girl and Daddy Roo and their next adventure!

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megamindsecretlair · 5 months

Note

I just want to start off by saying that you’re keeping all of us Tyrone girlies well fed!! You’re hands down one of my favorite writers on Tumblr ❣️

Not sure if you’re taking requests , but I would kill to see Tyrone be the jealous/pining one. He just always seems so cool and collected. Maybe it’s like a friends to lovers thing (or maybe they’re FWB and he hasn’t made it official) and someone asks the reader out before he does. Might be slightly toxic, but I feel like it’s on brand for him

Break Me

Pairing: Tyrone x Mean!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Toxic FILTH. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (fem receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, Toxic Tyrone, all consensual. Multiple uses of n-word. Referring to female anatomy as "she".

Summary: See ask. While you get ready for your date, Tyrone invites himself over to make you address where you stand with each other.

Word Count: 5,102k

A/N: I have no excuses for myself. None. Head empty. I'm SO sorry this took forever to get out, I feel so bad. I hope this was worth the wait! Thank you for calling me one of your fave writers! ILY! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt! Not everyone got tagged, simply because the list is so long and some of them have been inactive, no hard feelings!

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You sang along to Megan the Stallion’s song, “Girls in the Hood”, at full blast while you readied yourself for a date. Your shoulders bumped to the familiar beat, sliding on lip gloss. You felt good. Lighter than air. Dare you say…excited for the date?

You snickered and shook your head. No, you were not excited for no funky ass date. It was just nice to get dressed for once and leave your apartment for a Saturday night. You had been working hard the past few weeks, trying to get a little recognition at work.

You were approaching that time. The time where they either started showing some love or you were going to use their computers to find a new one. You hated starting over at a new place. You hated trying to suss out if the new people were going to be cool or full of microaggressions.

You sighed as you looked over your makeup in the mirror. You liked the soft complementary tones to your skin tone. Tonight was about you and that was all there was to it. Your phone buzzed on your nightstand.

You looked down, swiping to open it, and read the text from Tyrone.

Tyrone With That Monster: Need this dick?

Heat pulsed through you from the text alone. You stared at the screen as you willed your body to recover from the brief flashback to the last time Tyrone texted you. The way he had your legs in the air and was knocking your headboard into your wall so hard, there were still grooves there.

Nope, nope, nope. You were not going back there. It had been about a month since you last spoke to him. Both of you were too involved in your worlds to manage more than a scheduled back breaking. You did not need that toxic ass nigga in your life. No matter how good the dick was.

You texted back: naw, busy tonight.

Tyrone With That Monster: busy doin what? Watchin them corny ass shows?

You giggled and shook your head. You enjoyed cooking shows, there was nothing wrong with that. You knew it was fake as hell, but the food looked so good after. And dammit, you cared about some of the contestants whose lifelong dream it was to cook for their favorite chefs.

You: naw, a date

Tyrone With That Monster: what you mean a date?

You: I said what I said

You flipped your phone over. You did not have time to go back and forth with Tyrone. He wasn’t usually a fast texter and you still needed to slip on your dress. Your playlist flipped to “Body” by Megan the Stallion and you shimmied your way to your closet. You pulled out dress after dress, wondering which one screamed that you were classy but liked to be fucked into oblivion.

Your phone buzzed and buzzed but you ignored it. It was a text tone and you sincerely hoped that Vaughn was not the type of nigga to text that he was here. His ass better come to the door like a gentleman. He was too early anyway.

Going through your options, you decided to go with a burnished orange mini dress. You’d have to spend the night making sure you weren’t flashing your ass for the wrong crowd but it was short enough for Vaughn to get the message. You opened your closet door to reveal the mirror hanging from it.

You slipped the dress on, carefully yanking it down to fit over your wide hips and ass. You turned in the mirror to look at how the dress hung. Damn, you could see the bottom of your ass. There was no way to keep it down. Shit. Not appropriate for dinner. It was appropriate for the club, so you grabbed your phone from the vanity, ready to text your friend about a potential club date.

You had several missed messages from Tyrone asking where you were going, who you were going with, what you were wearing, why you stopped answering, etc. You giggled running through the messages. You didn’t know what was going on with him, acting like ya’ll went together real bad.

You were in the middle of typing a reply when you heard a thumping noise. You turned down Megan, a cardinal sin you know, and listened. Someone was banging on your door like they were the police. You tossed your phone onto your bed and headed towards the front door.

If it was your date, it was off. You had no time for a disrespectful ass mu’fucka. You looked through your peephole and gasped. Tyrone stood with his back towards you, scanning your neighborhood.

You opened the wooden door, staring at him through the metal door. “Tyrone?” You asked.

“Open up,” he said.

You crossed your arms. “Why are you here bangin’ on my door like that? You know my neighbor–”

“Is deaf as hell. Open this damn door,” he said and sucked his teeth.

Your pussy fluttered and you squeezed your thighs to make the ol’ girl calm down. So it had been a month since you seen him. So you still woke up in the morning sometimes from dreams where he folded you in half. Tyrone was a fuck boy, through and through, and you had no time for that.

“Who the hell do you think you talkin’ to like that? Take that bass out ya voice,” you said.

“Open this damn door,” Tyrone said, lowering his voice and injecting more bass. Asshole. That only turned you on more.

You sighed and twisted the lock, opening the door for him. You didn’t want to cause a scene. The sweet old lady you lived next door to was kind and treated you like a granddaughter. She wouldn’t understand why you’d put up with someone like Tyrone.

You didn’t really understand it either. You just knew that you hated a weak ass man. There was nothing wrong with men who listened to their ladies and were sweet in everything that they did. But it turned you off when you told someone to shut up and they just went, “yes, ma’am”.

Where was the fight? Where was the passion? Words never swayed you. You were always about the action.

Tyrone swept into your apartment, closing and locking the door behind him. He closed the wooden door and then finally faced you. Letting him in was a mistake you genuinely regretted at that moment.

He looked so cozy standing there in a hooded jacket, jacket over it, thick black jeans, and some Jordans. You wanted to bundle up with him. In your room. Under the covers.

“The hell you going dressed like that?” He asked.

“Hello to you too, nigga,” you rolled your eyes and traipsed back to your room. Tyrone’s thunderous steps followed.

“Shoes off!” You snapped.

Tyrone sighed dramatically, never understanding the thing about taking off his shoes. You didn’t know which ho’s house he was coming from or which backwoods ass alley he was selling out of, but you did not want it tracked all over your soft brown carpet.

Tyrone followed you to your room where you slipped the dress back over your head. You were braless and Tyrone openly stared at your tits but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before. He was barely a friend and he would be nothing more so there was no harm.

Even though you felt his gaze like a physical thing. As if he were already pulling you close and running his hands across your breasts, squishing, kneading…okay, stop it.

You looked through your other dresses, trying to find something before your date showed up. You roughly had an hour, so you hoped you could find something quickly. If finding your dress was hard, finding a matching pair of heels was harder.

“So you just gon’ flash them shits and ignore me?”

“What do you want, Tyrone? I said I was busy,” you told him. Your back was to him. You didn’t want to look at him too long or give him any hint that he could approach you. You weren’t sure you had the willpower to resist him.

Did you love him? No. You barely tolerated him. You weren’t even sure how you fell into “fuck buddy” territory. It had been a wild couple of months, where you had more fun having sex than you could remember.

But, the more you hopped in with him, the less you wanted to hop in with anyone else. And that simply wouldn’t do.

You were growing uncomfortably wet. Your brain and heart didn’t want him, but your pussy did. Every swish of your thighs and dip of your hip reminded you of how wet you grew around him. If he were to enter you right now, he wouldn’t need to work himself in. You were your very own slip n’ slide.

You bit your lip to keep from laughing, you didn’t want to have to explain yourself.

“You said you didn’t do dates,” he said.

“I don’t.” You couldn’t concentrate on finding a dress while he stood there, across the way from you. It felt like he was crowding your space. Or maybe that was just his presence.

“What the fuck? Why you actin’ like this?” He asked.

“I’m not acting like anything. You the one that showed up unannounced,” you said. You risked a glance at him. He had his hands in his hoodie pocket, head tilted a bit to the side, and eyes furrowed.

Fuck, he was gorgeous. With his big, sexy ass lips. Wide nose. Fierce eyebrows. Your pussy would never let you forget what his tongue could do. Could you clean yourself up real quick? You didn’t want to go out on a date with soaked panties.

You pulled the next dress you could find out of the closet and held it up to yourself. It was a black, sleeveless midi dress that would more than cover your ass but still short enough to not hinder you from getting some tonight.

You had been depriving yourself of dick, mostly because you were bored with the current rotation. They weren’t doing anything new, weren't trying to do anything new, and you didn’t have time to break it down for them.

You were ready to hop on and get yours. So you quietly ghosted the current roster and set to work building up some potentials. Vaughn was the only one with some sense so far. He used proper grammar, he had hobbies outside of playing ball on the weekends or surfing the internet trolling, and he was on his grown man grind.

“If you wanted a date, why didn’t you ask me?” Tyrone asked.

You laughed. The sound erupted from you, loudly and rudely, and you held your hand to your mouth to rein it back in.

“You? Taking me on a date? Be fuckin’ forreal.” You couldn’t hide the laughter in your tone.

“You actin’ like a nigga can’t take you somewhere nice. After we fuck, you kickin’ me out the bed.”

Laughter still shook your shoulders as you glanced at him. But he wasn’t laughing. His lips were pressed together and you had to really look at him. Was he serious?

“I thought that was what we agreed to?” Did you miss something?

“Yeah, I thought we agreed to fuck with each other.”

“And do?”

“So why you switching shit up, going on dates? When we got started, I asked you out a few times.”

You bit the corner of your mouth. You hated messy shit like this. “Not that I have to explain myself, but I felt like a date today. Felt like doing something new. Fuck buddies starting to get played if I can’t hang out after,” you said. You shrugged your shoulders.

You weren’t in the market for a relationship. Didn’t have the time. But you supposed that you wanted a friend with benefits. Hang out to do dumb shit like go to the movies, go see a gallery opening, go out to dinner and then come home to get off. You weren’t down for the cuddling shit but maybe? You didn’t know what you were after, but this wasn’t it anymore.

You couldn’t picture Tyrone doing any of those things. He was too busy, too rough around the edges, to fit the ideal friend you were looking for.

“Then why can’t we hang after?” Tyrone asked.

You fought a smile. “And do what, Tyrone? Watch my corny ass shows that you complain about? Talk about work? Go out to the same five fast food restaurants and eat in the car, parked somewhere?”

“Damn, you think that about me?” His voice got soft. Shit. No, no. This was going all wrong. Tyrone was good for being a stone wall. You could say whatever and do whatever. He didn’t care. You liked that he didn’t care.

“I’m saying that this isn’t an exclusive thing. We both knew that. How many women you don’ fucked on your way over to me? How many girls you got waiting for a call back from you?”

“Ion know, I ain’t messed with none of them bitches for a good while. You’d know that if you texted me for something other than dick,” he said.

“Need I remind you who texted who tonight?”

“You’re so fuckin’ irritating!” Tyrone exploded.

“I don’t know what you want!” You screamed back.

“You! Dumb ass!”

Your mouth was already open, ready to rip apart anything he said in response. But when his words sunk in, when the pounding of your heart in your ears lessened, it dawned on you that he said he wanted you.

“Oh,” you said. You stood there awkwardly. You had the dress in your hands, hanging limply from the hangar. You lifted it, covering yourself, not sure what to say to that.

“You don’t even think about me, do you?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” you said. You faced away from him.

“Then tell me what’s going on in your head, ‘cause I never do. I don’t fuckin’ get you half the time. But I know I want you,” he said.

“You just want what’s between my legs. This my fuckin’ pussy,” you snapped. Anger bubbled in your gut. Who the fuck did he think he was, pulling this shit? Forcing you to confront these…these…fuck ass feelings? You were about your money. You were about your grind. This was precisely why you didn’t want relationships and cut niggas off before it got this far.

This was ultimately your fault, for letting him linger for so long. But how could you deny your insane chemistry with him? You never got the grooves fixed in your wall because you liked remembering how he handled your body. You liked remembering that he worshiped every inch of you and never made a snide comment about your looks or weight.

You pretty for a big girl…it’s nice to be out with someone who eat like me, not like a damn bird…

“Don’t put words in my mouth. Ain’t that what you said?” Tyrone fired back.

You sighed and pushed past him, heading for the bathroom. “I need to get ready for my date,” you mumbled.

Tyrone blocked your exit from your bedroom, using his size to crowd in even more. “How could you still think about that nigga when I’m right in front of you? Telling you I want you? We can stop the sex right now, if you’ll give me a chance,” he said, his tone soft. His eyes were pleading with you, silently begging you to make that leap.

“There’s only sex between us, Tyrone. Move,” you said. You looked away from him, digging your hands into your flesh, clutching the dress to yourself.

“Fine. Tell me your pussy ain’t wet and I’ll leave,” he said.

“That’s not fair, Tyrone,” you said.

“I don’t care. Tell me it isn’t. Tell me them little ass panties ain’t fuckin’ soaked.”

“Sex was never our problem,” you told him.

“You ain’t trynna be with me and I know you ain’t trynna be with whatever fuck nigga you got comin’ to swoop you up. You don’t even know if his dick as good as mine. Let me send you out proper then,” he said.

He closed the minimal distance between you, pressing his lips to your temple. “Show me you truly don’t fuck with me no more and I’ll leave,” he said.

“You just confessed that you want me. How fair is it to let you hit after that? Or let you hit and then go out with someone else?” He could not fuck you into being with him. There was no way that he was going to fuck some feelings into you.

Stupidly, a small part of you still didn’t want to give him up. You wanted him to take back what he said. To unring that bell. You wanted him to take those words from your brain so that he could stay on the roster. Stay unbothered. You didn’t want to change your arrangement.

“I’m just some fuck boy right? I got other women waiting on this dick, so what does it matter?”

“Because you already ruined it!”

Tyrone only smirked. He tugged on the dress. You held on but you didn’t want to tear the dress either. You let it go and he tossed the dress onto your ottoman. He spread your arms out and he looked down at your titties. It was just cold. That was the only reason your nipples were beaded up like that.

“I can’t ruin what never was. I’m a grown ass man. I can handle rejection,” he said. His thumbs rubbed against your nipples and you fought off a shiver.

“Tyrone…” You knew this was a bad idea. “We shouldn’t.”

Dammit, you were dick whipped. And you knew that you had to hold out. Had to remain strong. You couldn’t fuck someone who had feelings for you. You were an asshole but you had to be an asshole with some rules. There was a line somewhere.

Tyrone took off his jacket and then took off his hoodie, revealing a white t-shirt. His lips returned to your forehead, then your cheek, bypassing your mouth and headed towards your neck. You melted into his kisses, leaning your head back for more. Wait, no.

You pushed him away and put your hands up. “We can’t.”

“We shouldn’t. We can’t. Tell me no. Tell me no since you ain’t want me,” he said.

“I told you that sex was never our problem,” you said. You’d definitely have to change your panties now. You couldn’t go on a date like this. All hot and bothered. “I hate you.”

Tyrone smirked, removing his shirt. Your mouth dropped open. It had been far too long since you seen him naked. Since you seen that one eyed-monster he got hiding in his pants.

His hands deftly unbuttoned his jeans, the zipper moving slowly down. You followed the action. You were throbbing right now, needing a really good dick down. Wasn’t that what the whole Vaughn thing was for anyway? You had been texting him for a few weeks and you appreciated that he wasn’t begging for pussy. But Tyrone was right. You didn’t know if Vaughn was good in bed yet.

“What was it that you said? It’s your pussy right? Don’t you want to take care of her before your date? Just so you’re in it thinking with your head,” he said.

Tyrone waited. He waited for you to tell him no. To tell him to get dressed, walk out, and leave you free for your date. You just stared at his hands on his jeans, ready to pull them down.

“I hate you,” you sighed. You weren’t strong. You were not every woman. It was not all in you. He was right. He was a grown man and he could handle rejection. One last roll around the sheets wouldn’t kill him. Maybe he needed that final nut to get you out of his system.

Tyrone’s smug smile split his face as he dropped the jeans. His dick was already pressing against his black boxer briefs. He rubbed himself over the top. “Get that pretty ass on the bed,” he said.

He had you, so he was back to familiar territory. You followed his directions, walking backwards until your legs hit the bed. You sat down. He approached, still rubbing that wonderful, beautiful dick of his.

You licked your lips. You reached out to grab the band of the boxers, but he slapped your hand away. You gave him a funny look but he only knelt down slowly. He hauled your legs to his shoulders and scooted in, until you were angled perfectly.

He took a deep breath. “Missed this fuckin’ pussy,” he said. He moved your panties to the side and started eating you out. No teasing, no games, just big lips attached to your pussy and eating like it was his God given right.

“Oue, shit,” you moaned. You tried to scoot back a bit. You weren’t used to such intensity from him.

Tyrone pulled you forward, pressing his shoulders under your thighs and forcing your legs wider. Music still played in the background, a sensual R&B tune called “Flames” that only highlighted this naughty moment.

His tongue flicked against your clit. He attacked it with precision, flicking it back and forth since he knew it was the quickest way to get you off. As he did that, his left hand held your pussy lips open. His right hand trailed down in your slickness and pushing inside you.

“Ohhhhh,” you moaned to the ceiling. He fucked you with his thick digits, going in and out at a fast pace. Your thighs shook on his shoulders.

“Mhm, this yo pussy right?” He whispered against your clit.

“Yess,” you moaned. And it was. You were the proud owner of something that drove men insane. Thinkin’ they owned you or some shit. You were the mu’fucka that had to deal with it day in and day out. So why should it belong to a mu’fucka who couldn’t find your clit even if you drew them a map?

Tyrone suckled on your clit, driving his fingers deeper inside of you. Tyrone didn’t need a map. He knew exactly what to do. He flipped his hand over, curling his fingers in a come hither motion. You clutched his braids as you came on his face. Shaking. Quaking. Was there an earthquake or were you just shaking that damn badly from this momentous orgasm?

“Fuuhh,” you cried out. It had been entirely too long. Damn, my bad sis, you mentally thought about your vagina. You would never deprive her for so long again.

You twitched as Tyrone continued to lap up your orgasm, groaning at your taste. He was mumbling something but you couldn’t hear. He leaned back, lifting his soaked fingers to his mouth and suckled up your juices.

He stood up and peeled off your panties. “Knew you were wet as fuck,” he said, self satisfaction written all over his face.

“Whatever, nigga,” you groaned. He chuckled and picked you up. He tossed you further on the bed. You were ready to admonish him for it, but he finally freed that big ass monster. His dick bobbed when he was finally free.

He stood there a moment, letting you look your fill. “Hurry up and come fuck me,” you said. You didn’t have time to play. You weren’t sure what the time was. Oh yeah, you tossed your phone onto the bed.

Tyrone chuckled. He grabbed your waist and flipped you over. The bed dipped as he climbed on.. Where did he get the fuckin’ audacity to toss you around like this? Was this the same Tyrone? Did he have a twin or clone somewhere who was a little sex freak?

He slapped your ass. “Goddamn,” he said. “That fuckin’ recoil is dangerous.”

“Who do-”

He entered you and you gasped from his size. Did he get bigger? Was that possible? This couldn’t be the same dick you were hopping on a few weeks ago. “Oh fuck,” you gasped.

Your hands clutched the red sheets, trying to pull yourself away from him. You weren’t prepared for this!

Tyrone slammed your hips back down on his girth and you cried out. A mix of pain and pleasure had your hand frantically reaching back. Tyrone grabbed it and pushed it into the bed next to your head. His large hand covering yours was sexy all by itself. Your pussy fluttered and Tyrone groaned.

“This yo pussy right?” He asked.

“Yeesssuh,” you moaned.

You started throwing it back on him, slapping your ass against his thighs. The wet smacking got louder than the music playing in the background. “Fuck me,” he moaned and went harder.

A dance of dominance began. Your hips rolled as you tried to gain some type of control. You liked getting fucked as much as the next person, but he was an entirely different animal tonight. A dangerous one. He was pulling out all kinds of moves you didn’t know he had. And you were unprepared for it. Blindsided that this mu’fucka still had some tricks up his sleeve.

But every inch you tried to gain, he’d switch it up. He took his hand off of yours and replaced it on your hip. He lifted up his right leg to steady himself. Then he really went to town. Each meeting of your skin on his was like a shotgun blast. Lethal. Loud. His thrusts were hard. His strokes deep.

He moved his hand again, snaking it under your bodies until he found your clit. “Oh, shit, wait,” you mumbled.

“Uh-uh, this yo pussy. Treat her right,” he grunted. His harsh breaths fanned over your overheated skin.

His fingers were too much. You reared up as another orgasm tore through you. Like a mini tornado. You shook, your eyes crossed, and pleasure whipped you into a chaotic frenzy. As you were still cumming, Tyrone pulled out long enough to flip you onto your back.

Your hands flew to his chest, but he ignored you. The nigga had a demon inside of him. He licked his lips as he rammed back inside of you. Your back bowed off of the bed.

“What the fu–”

“Ima need one more, pretty girl,” he said. He pressed his chest into yours. His sweat mixed with yours. You slid easily against him, both panting and grunting and rutting like two mu’fuckas in heat.

“I can’t–”

“Sure you can. It’s your pussy, you can do what you want,” he murmured into your neck. He lifted his head and kissed you.

You were stunned, gasping, and he took advantage licking the lip gloss from your lips. His tongue played with yours.

On the heels of your last orgasm, he pulled another one from you. Like a little thief. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head. Surely, you saw stars. The universe. You knew every answer known to man in that moment. You touched another reality as your body flooded his dick.

He slipped out and he frantically shoved back in. “That’s right. You treat that pussy well,” he said. He continued to kiss you and fuck you through it. You couldn’t comprehend anything beyond his dick ramming inside of you as if he were truly trying to steal your guts.

Distantly, you heard your ringtone. “Ignore it,” you said against his lips.

“Answer it,” he said.

“What?”

“Answer. That. Shit.” Every word was a deeper stroke. How was he not as deep as possible already?!

You turned your head, your hand frantically reaching through your red sheets for your phone. Vaughn’s name flashed on the screen. Fuuuuuck.

Pressure built in your lower belly. You clenched around Tyrone’s thick dick. “On speaker,” Tyrone said with a smirk.

Your hand shakily swiped to answer and then you put him on speaker. You laid the phone on your chest. Tyrone seemed to like that because he grinned and then turned his attention to your abandoned nipples.

He suckled one into his mouth. “H-Hello?” You answered, trying to sound like you weren’t getting your guts rearranged.

“Hey, just wanted to let you know that I was five minutes out.” Vaughn had a deep voice too. Not quite as deep as Tyrone’s. But it still lovingly caressed your ears.

“I’m so sorry. I uh-” You bit your lip to keep from moaning. He was so damn big. His thrusts turned shallow, giving you a little room to breathe. His tongue laved around your nipple, sending sharp tugs to your pussy.

“I should’ve texted,” you said. Your voice sounded strained to your own ears. If Vaughn wasn’t dumb, he’d know that you were doing something nasty. With someone that wasn’t him.

“Everything okay? You sound out of breath?” Vaughn asked.

“I feel so sick.” You bit your lip again as Tyrone nibbled. He threw you a wink and then slammed into you once. You heaved and hoped it didn’t sound like a moan.

“Do you want me to bring something over? I just passed a store,” Vaughn said.

Take the fuckin’ hint, damn! “That’s–sweet. No, I’ll call, okay?” You asked.

“Alright. I’ll check on you. I hope you feel better.” He was so sweet. Dumbass.

“Okay, byee!” You hung up the phone just as Tyrone increased his strokes. His balls slapped against your wet pussy, your sheets drenched from your orgasms.

“This yo pussy?” Tyrone asked as he threw his head back and finally came, flooding you with his cum.

“Shiiii–” You came with him, both of you mutually lost to it. To the heat and pleasure chasing around and around inside your body.

Tyrone grabbed your wrists as his dick pulsed inside of you. You felt the spurts leaking out of him. He pressed your wrists close to your head. He grunted as he felt you clenching and unclenching around him, greedily sucking it all in.

“Sorry about your date,” Tyrone panted and grinned.

“I hate you so goddamn much,” you said and chuckled.

“Let’s throw on one of them corny ass shows and I’ll eat you out again.” He kissed along your jaw, wiggling his hips a bit so you knew he was still thoroughly lodged there, burying his cum deep inside you.

Well, who were you to complain? You ain’t want to go out that badly anyway.

Whew! You feelin' alright? There's more! The Secret Tyrone Files

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Tyrone Files #Tyrone x Black!reader #Tyrone x Black reader #x Black reader #Tyrone x Fem!reader #Tyrone x Fem reader #Tyrone x Mean!reader #Tyrone x Mean reader #Toxic Tyrone #Tyrone smut #They Cloned Tyrone smut #They Cloned Tyrone fanfic #They Cloned Tyrone fan fic #They Cloned Tyrone fanfiction #They Cloned Tyrone fan fiction #Black writers #Tyrone x you #Tyrone x reader

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blacst4r · 2 months

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DECISIONS (2)

Pairings: Jey Uso x black fem x Jimmy Uso

Warnings: Infidelity

Summary: In the midst of relationship turmoil, Lola turns to the wrong one.

gifs ©️mocooper98

Lola's eyes peeled open, blinking a couple of times to adjust her vision due to the brightness of the room from the sunlight. She was lying on her side with a muscular, tatted arm firmly securing her waist. Her back was pressed against a hard chiseled chest that rose and fell as they peacefully slept. She shifted around to face a knocked-out Jon, smiling at the sight of him in slumber. She took the time to closely observe his features- his furrowed brows, the slight pout in his lips, his defined nose, his shaved beard that complimented his structure. He was perfect.

She brought a hand up to caress his face, the pad of her manicured thumb brushed across his cheek. His features crinkled at the contact before his lids eventually parted, revealing those big, dreamy, orbs she could get lost in.

"Morning" she cooed softly.

"I could wake up to this every day," he said, making her face heat up as she smiled warmly. He leaned in for a kiss, their lips grooving passionately, with hushed whimpers as his tongue slipped into her mouth. His slender fingers seized her jaw, keeping her in place, as they made out for what felt like forever.

His lips finally parted from hers ever-so-slightly as he looked into her eyes, "how you feelin'?" he asked Lola.

"After last night? Sore" she chuckled as did Jon, "yeah we was fuckin like animals huh?"

That was an understatement, several rounds in several positions, followed by a couple more in the shower.

"I thought you would never get tired," she recalled the incredible stamina that had him endlessly fucking her into oblivion with a carnal nature. He licked his lips from that same recollection, "couldn't help it, you had me sucked in...still do," he proudly admitted. "Look, I'm tryna see where this could go. We clearly feelin' each other, or we wouldn't have done this."

Lola silently agreed with him, the chemistry and sexual tension they shared was unmatched. She found Jon extremely attractive with great qualities, but whether she intended on sleeping with him, didn't matter now. He's expecting more of an outcome than just being a sneaky link. But Josh was still her boyfriend, and her fiancé who branded a diamond ring on her finger. Despite that being 4 yrs ago, she held out hope that the ultimate symbol of his love for her, would see them at the alter eventually. That things could change with her and Josh for the better. But was she ready to give up on the love of her life she'd been with for several years, over one night with his brother? And would they have even hooked up if they weren't drunk? Lola's mind was swirling with what-ifs she didn't have the answers too.

ᶓ ☆ ᶔ

Josh made his way inside the house that afternoon, curious after seeing Lola's pink jeep parked in the driveway. His brows were creased in as he headed upstairs in search of her. She was gone all last night, and hadn't responded to his calls or texts. They were technically on a "break," but that didn't mean shit to him as she was still there, just not in the same bed as him. Still wearing her ring, just not acknowledging the man that put it there. It was all petty to him, he just wanted to dead all of this and get the relationship back on track.

He finally found her in the bathroom relaxing in the tub, her braids up in a bun and some sort of product applied to her face. Tyla's water played at a low volume from her speaker on the counter. Lolas eyes were shut, but opened as she felt his presence further in the bathroom. She took in his appearance, noting how fine he looked with that mug on his face as he leaned against the counter with arms crossed.

"So where you been?" he started off, voice deep and gruff.

"At my girls" she lied through her teeth.

"You couldn't tell me that? I'm steady callin and textin and yo ass not answerin" he scolded her.

"I had my phone on dnd Josh, I just wanted to get away from this" she explained tiredly.

"So what we doin' Lo? Huh? You wearin yo ring sayin we on a break but you still here after havin sleep overs witcho homegirls. Ion get it" he looked frustrated as he failed to rationalize it, "what you seein other people too?" he added.

Her heart spiked at the suspicion, though it wasn't a hunch Josh actually had. But if only he knew.

Internally Lola was rattled, but on the outside she rolled her eyes, "I don't know what we doin' either besides fighting Josh! That's all we do, and I'm over it!"

Josh released a stern breath, swiping a hand down his face and rubbing his beard in deep thought. By now, the song had switched to truth or dare, how fitting.

"I love you Lola, it's a reason I got down on one knee for you, I plan on makin you my wife but we can't get there till we resolve the shit we got goin on right now. Ion want us to tie the knot and still be havin the same issues," he voiced sternly, letting his words sink in before he continued, "look, no more break, either we in this or we not."

"I'm in this Joshua, but we gotta work on us properly, not goin at each others heads, not bickering-"

"Not stayin gone" he interjected.

And not fucking his brother...

She nodded with an anxious breath, "yea that too," bypassing the most important part ringing throughout her conscious.

Josh brown spheres bore into hers much like Jons did earlier as both men poured their heart out to her, "I'm in love witchu Lo, you my world forreal, and I'mma show you that, on me." He walked over to the tub and carefully bent down, planting a tender kiss on her lips that melted her skin- lingering long after he exited the bathroom. She was left to wallow in her filthy sins amidst the cleansing waters that couldn't wash them away.

@cyberdejos2 @empressdede @abadbitchblogs @yana3sworld @solefae @trc-punzel @bebesobrielo

#jey uso imagine #jimmy uso imagine #black reader #jey uso #jimmy uso #the usos

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lfghughes · 11 months

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HI! 🩵anon here! Could I please request a andrei svechnikov x reader 🫣 (saw your post about wanting some andrei but how about some andrei and reader being long distance and reader comes and surprises him once semester break starts and he teaches them how to skate? That man would constantly find excuses to touch the reader doesn’t matter how good their are he’s constantly wanting to be near them hehe

a/n: ughhh loved this request so much. thank you for sending it in

Being far from Andrei was hard but it was just while you were in school. Both of you knew there would be difficulties with this especially with how busy your schedules got. Between being in classes and him being at practice or games, it didn’t give a whole lot of opportunities to fly out to see each other and unless you stayed up late after one of his games, you didn’t get to hear much from him.

The good news was that it was spring break and you had used the ‘visiting family’ excuse on Andrei when in reality you were actually going to surprise him. You knew he had been hoping for you to visit him but once you had mentioned your family you knew that he would never push for you to go see him instead.

Luckily, you were able to keep up the whole surprise thing by texting with Sebastian throughout the past few weeks who was helping you with surprising him. With perfecting planning, Sebastian was able to pick you up at the airport right before practice and drive you with him there. As you both walked into the rink they used for practices, your eyes immediately searched all the bodies already on the ice.

“Svechy, I have a little surprise for you.” Sebastian shouted out into the ice and Andrei immediately turned his attention towards the both of you, his jaw dropping open as he took in what he was seeing. “What??” He said in shock as he skated over, his arms wrapping around you tightly. “I thought you were going to see your family?”

“I told you that but me and Sebastian kind of planned this all out to surprise you.” You admitted, a smile on your lips. “Go practice, I’ll be here.” You told him as you gave him a quick kiss because you knew if you didn’t send him off onto the ice that he wouldn’t go. Practice didn’t take too long, it wasn’t a heavy one and before you knew it Andrei was back over to you. “Coach is cool with us using the ice for a little while if you want some skating lessons.”

You nodded your head at the idea, thinking it would be fun. Andrei went off, finding a pair of skates that would fit you and when he came back he helped you tie them up. Getting onto the ice was always your least favorite part. You weren’t a horrible skater just still very much a beginner at it and it just took a few seconds for your legs to remember what ice felt like. Andrei’s hands went to your waist, helping you with your balance until you found your groove.

Both of you skated around and you couldn’t help but notice the additional help that Andrei kept giving you. Any time that he could reach out and touch you he would and you couldn’t help but laugh at that. His hand went to the small of your back as if he was trying to help you out and you grinned at him “You know, I don’t really need help anymore.” You pointed out to him in a teasing tone which only caused him to shrug. “Have you thought that maybe I just like touching you?”

“Trust me, I’ve picked up on that.” Your hand caught a hold of his, your fingers interlacing with his. “I’m so happy you came out here.” Andrei told you as he skated to a stop in front of you, his arms wrapping around you. “Just a few more months and this will be my home too.” You reminded him as you leaned up to press a kiss to his lips.

#andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov blurb #andrei svechnikov imagine #andrei svechnikov

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snek-panini · 7 months

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Happy Halloween! Have a book:

This is Siren's Song by @kedreeva (Hi! I asked to bind your fic months ago, sorry it took so long XD). It's an incredible Good Omens siren AU, which needs no introduction from me but it gets one anyway. It's one of the most in-character fics I've ever read, tackles a lot of the most resonant themes of the original (love in the context of aromanticism and asexuality, human labels in the context of non-human perspective), and has incredible world-building. Later parts of the fic always make me cry but they're good tears. You'll see. When I first learned that fanbinding was a thing and started looking into how to do it, this was one of the first fics I thought of. It just took me a while to learn the skills I needed before I could do it.

More pics and process talk under the cut!

So the cover up there is black faux leather and momi paper that I bought...about two years ago? And just kept on hand till I was ready to do this project. This is the first time I've worked with it and it was fairly nice, though harder to get a nice crease into than lokta or chiyogami. It felt very fragile when I was handling it but I didn't have any issues with tearing or glue bleed-through like I thought I might. It did bleed some color when I got it damp with the glue, and it took way longer to dry than normal, but once that was done it's been fine. Which is nice because I have a lot left over, so it'll probably be making many future appearances in my binds.

Look! It's rounded! I got a backing setup recently and this is my first time using it. It was Very Hard and I am not very good at it yet. But I think it looks pretty good for a first attempt, and there was really no other way to mitigate the spine swell on this one. I used a thick paper so I've got a thick book. I also tried something new with the case, though it isn't visible. Usually I make the text block and the case separately and then attach them as the last step, but for this one I actually built the case around the text. Like, boards attached to mull/tapes (sandwiched between thinner boards, with grooves cut for them so there are no bulges), then covered with momi, then leather corners and spine, then paste down the endpaper. It's got an oxford hollow, too! The tapes and mull actually wrap around the outside of the boards instead of the inside like I've done before. Endpapers are my favorite feather chiyogami. Combined with the marbled momi they make for a very opulent look, and I had just barely enough to do this. Like, down to the millimeter. I had to trim the edges and then glue the endpapers after to be sure they were right. I'm glad they were, because I didn't have a backup plan. Handmade endbands, colors picked to match the cover. Also, last note, I got the corner bits right for the first time. Measured properly, with no weird pointy bits that come out at funny angles. Very proud.

Title page and bookmark/interior shot. Did you know that some basic fonts in MS Word look different when you use a huge font size? Because I didn't until I made this title page. That's Parchment for the title, and it only gets those swirly bits around the capital letters if you take it to 26pt or higher (I used 72 here). Now I wonder if any of the other fonts have easter eggs in them like that. The ribbon is very fancy, to go along with the rich endpaper/cover combo. I think it's pretty appropriate for a mythological golden age of piracy story, as are the text ornaments:

Chapter header image, chapter end image, and section break image. It was a very image-heavy typeset. I was originally planning to only have a header and a section break, but I couldn't decide whether I liked the ships or the book/shell/feather better, and they both suited the story so well that I just went with both. Again, opulent, but I think it fits. All the images came from rawpixel, all I did was resize them.

There was a small error in the trimming process. Comes of having to calculate so closely the exact amount you can trim off, that you have to trim off so your slightly-too-small endpapers fit. I think something got misaligned when I poked the sewing holes because only the first signature is like this. The rest of the book has a more appropriately-sized margin between the page number and the edge. I got very lucky here, and I know it, and I'm never cutting it this close (lol) again. Next time we just order another sheet of chiyogami.

And that's it! I have one author's copy and one new bind in progress right now (that's taking a while because I'm learning more new stuff for it), and then I have two Christmas gift books to do, so it might be a bit before I have another book to share.

#bookbinding #fanbinding #snek makes books #good omens #fic rec #this one was months in the making #maybe years if you consider i bought the momi in 2021 #long before i started working on the typeset #i love it so much though #when i was done i wanted to carry it around all day and show it to people #like a kid who wants you to put their drawing on the fridge

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chimkin-samich · 2 months

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Hi!

I have had a block for both writing and drawing for several years. I look at your works with longing in my eyes and think how wonderful it would be to draw regularly again. I was never particularly talented and had many gaps in learning to draw, but I enjoyed it. Now I don't know how to start drawing or writing. My laptop is full of unfinished stories. I have lots of ideas for drawings, but it's hard for me to get down to work.

Therefore, my question is: Do you have any advice for people who haven't drawn/written for several years and would really like to get back to it, but can't motivate themselves, have no ideas, etc.? Or quite the opposite. They have lots of ideas, but for some reason they can't draw anything?

Greetings and have a nice morning/day/evening/night!

Hello! Sorry it took so long to respond, I wanted to make sure I could respond properly to this so I thought it over a lot, I’m going to put it under a read more cuz it’s gonna get long lol

I (sly) am kinda in the same position as you at least when it comes more to art, writing ive kinda cracked the block but still trying to break through the ice, all the art on our blog is Ferals art, I only complete the line work and shading (but not always) I haven’t drawn any of my own stuff in probably a few years but I’m trying to get back into it cuz I miss it as well, I completely get the whole feeling of looking at Feral’s art and wanting to create my own but finding it so difficult to do

For the art aspect my plan is to start at square 1, start how I first starting drawing, which for me was to look up refs, animals and draw them by sight, just to get back into the groove of trying to bring back that muscle memory, maybe you started by tracing images, you could trace only the rough outlines and then shade and detail them, just something simply and easy, you probably won’t be happy with the results (I know I certainly won’t be with my own) but it’s a start

Look up things that you enjoy, draw your squad, incorrect quotes to do with ocs maybe even draw them out, try and keep it simple, you don’t need to create a masterpiece on the first day back, any attempt is a step forward even if you dislike it, try it out at least once a day everyday, a simple doodle just for fun or to exercise your muscle memory again, the first part is gonna be hard and messy, that’s totally ok! All that matters is the attempt!

For the writing aspect try and keep it simple as well, focus on making short one-shots or even just bullet point dialogues, your old unfinished writing isn’t going anywhere, when you feel comfortable enough to attempt to continue it just go for it!

I had a big gap in my writing periods and sometimes I still go a few months with out touching any of my stories, blocks happen and are normal, something that I try to get back into is read other people’s work, both to see the writing style and to get some inspiration to continue my own works

When I actually get down to actually writing my story I just dump down the story as I think it, I just keep writing even if it looks messy and grammatically incorrect to at least get the story moving and progressing. After I have the rough story down, is when I go back to correct spelling mistakes, add more details/dialogues or events in between to create a much better flow for the story

I usually do this multiple times for each fic I create, usually in between pauses (either due to blanking on ideas or just cuz I wasn’t feeling it) so whenever I reopen my doc, I just reread and add on, then I do it again one or two more times once it’s completed

I struggle a lot with perfectionism when it comes to my art and writing, and unfortunately it’s a big killer for my motivation, especially when I see others that make better works than me. I’ve been slowly unlearning that urge to make everything perfect, by just allowing myself to have messy and rough works, it’s not always going to come out how I want it but at least I got it as close as I could in the moment with my current skill level

I like to tell myself, the more I keep doing it, the more I’ll improve, and I’ll always be able to come back with more ideas and skill to remake this better than my first attempts, just because I did it doesn’t mean I can’t try to do it again

Being easier on yourself does wonders (I know easier said than done unfortunately 😭) but your practically having to relearn skills that have gotten rusty, even if you were doing great before, your gonna have to build back up to that point, it’s just like exercising a muscle ✨

I hope this was able to help! I wish you much luck in your journey back into art and writing!

#mods speaketh #mod sly

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astroluvr · 2 years

Text

Spilled Milk

Summary: You and Jack are co-parents, and have been for three years. The night he coincidentally comes over the night of your date, the kind of feelings and milk you cry over are spilled.

a/n: my love for co-parenting jack has reached a 17k word (allegedly) boiling point. it's a little messy, but i hope y'all enjoy!

***

Just as you were clasping your necklace around your neck, you heard a series of firm knocks from the down the hall, sending you flying down the hall. “Coming!”

You tugged down at the hem of your dress as you scuffled to the door with your unzipped sandals. You groaned when you stumbled over Elle’s toybox before finally getting the door open. The chipper greeting that sat on your tongue faded when you saw who was standing at your threshold.

“Jack?” you cringed involuntarily and Jack smiled. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

You took a step back to let him in and he glided in, throwing his jacket over the side of the couch with a curious look. “Max told me he finished that volcano he was working on and I promised I’d stop by to look at it. They aren’t in bed, yet, are they?”

“Oh, Jack.” you sighed, putting your hand on your forehead. “I didn’t know you were stopping by today, my mom got them.”

“Fuck, that is right.”

“Yeah, he didn’t even mention he invited you over, otherwise I would’ve called.”

“Nah, it’s your weekend, anyway. I’ll go ahead and dip.”

“Wait, do you want to try these cookies I made?” you invited Jack to the kitchen where you had a plate of cookies sitting out. “I waited until the kids left.”

“Did you make edibles?” Jack furrowed his eyebrows and you chuckled.

“No, I’m not that cool. I just didn’t want to share.”

“But you’ll share with me, how sweet.”

“We’re past the bitter break-up phase, aren’t we?”

“Mmhmm.” he hummed as he sat on your barstool and picked up a cookie.

You and Jack had broken up after seven years together three years back. Your son, Max, was only three and your daughter, Elle, was only one. The split was hard for all four of you, especially with the kids being so small and having no concept of what was going on. Things got easier when you and Jack got into a groove of switching off weekends and eventually organizing weekly dinners, but there was still a slightly lingering tension between the both of you.

“Hey, what are you doing all dressed up?”

“You’re just noticing. Every time you’ve seen me, I’ve been in sweats.” you laughed, taking a bite of another cookie.

“Well, what are you doing tonight?”

“I’m just going out.”

“With who? Your friends?”

“Jack, why do you care?” you chuckled while pouring yourself a glass of milk.

“Maybe I want to hang out with you.” you flicked your eyes up skeptically and scoffed when you saw Jack’s smug smirk.

“I’m going on a date.” you edged out, biting back a smile.

“A what?”

“A date.”

“How much did you pay him?” Jack snorted and you frowned at him. “Oh, you’re being deadass?”

“Yes, and he’s supposed to be here in a few minutes.”

“You found a guy that’s okay with dating you with me as your baby daddy? Damn, that’s a keeper.”

“Can you be serious? And can you start with helping me put on this necklace?” you walked around the island with a simple gold necklace in hand, holding it out to Jack.

Despite being a good distance away from the tall man, he stepped closer to you, nearly breathing down your neck as he made sure the center of the necklace was perfectly set on your cleavage. Over all the time you two spent together, Jack had become perfect at clasping your necklaces or zipping up the back of your dresses. When you first broke up, it wasn’t something you expected to associate with him for so long.

“There you go.” Jack murmured, adjusting the chain of the necklace before taking a step back.

"Thank you.”

He gave you a curt nod before sitting back down at the island, seemingly making himself comfortable. Even when he came over to hang out with the kids, he was standoffish until something broke the ice. You made a slight show of checking the time on your phone, knowing that Jack was watching you, but instead of him clearing his throat and politely leaving, he remained sat. You watched as he leaned back in the chair he was in, slightly spreading his legs with his hands splayed on his thighs as if he were analyzing you.

“So, how long have you and this guy been going out? First date?”

“Well, Emmett and I have known each other for a while and then a few months ago, he asked me out and it's been sort of a... every other weekend thing since.” you shrugged, playing it off as casual as Jack puckered his lips slightly and nodded.

“So, when do I get to meet him?”

You couldn’t help but scoff and let out a chuckle at that.

“I’m being for real, Y/N. I mean, it seems like y’all are getting serious. I want to meet the guy that’s going to be around my kids before they’re around him.”

“Well, I’m sure we can work something out if it gets to that. I can try and figure out a way where the five of us can get together.”

Jack made a sour expression at the thought of there being five of you and cringing at how nonchalant you came across.

“No, I mean before he meets the kids.”

At that, you furrowed your eyebrows and narrowed your eyes. “Excuse me?”

“If you and Emmett get serious and you want to introduce him to the kids, I want to meet him first.”

“And why do you feel the need to do that?”

“I want to know who’s going to be spending time with my kids.”

“Introducing them doesn’t mean that he’ll be spending time with them and by that time, I’ll know who he is and whether or not I feel comfortable allowing him with them.” you spoke sternly, growing agitated with the tall brunette. “I’m a very capable mother.”

“I know that, but what would be the problem with me meeting him? Being a second opinion.”

“I don’t need a second opinion on my damn love life, Jack.”

“If you’re bringing him around my kids, then that’s how it’s going to be.”

“Who the hell do you think you are? If you want to meet him after I introduce him, I’m okay with that, but you won’t meet him before, I’m sorry.”

“Then you won’t bring him around.” Jack shrugged, and you couldn’t fight the sneer that flashed across your face.

“You are so immature.” you hissed at him, expecting the vapid remark to be enough to make him snap out of it, but instead he stood from the chair.

“I’m immature?” you nodded as you busied yourself with throwing random things in the trash or shoving it into place. “It’s immature to want to know who’s around you? Who you’re bringing around my kids?”

“Oh, my God, give up the ‘my kids’ speech. This is about your ego and wanting to keep me from moving on even though every time I open Instagram, there’s news about you out with some girl. What if I asked to meet your latest arm candy because who knows how many times the kids have seen some random girl’s clothes or a hickey or something!”

“That’s not the same and you fucking know it.”

“But it’s just as petty. When you dated that one girl six months after we broke up, I didn’t ask to meet her when you two took the two of them out for ice cream and the kids came back just raving about her. Do you know why Jack?”

He went to open his mouth, but your fierce anger was enough to shut him down.

“Because I trust your judgement and respect you as a parent, but you can’t do that same thing for me? You don’t even have any business knowing who I’m seeing because you and I aren’t together anymore. We’re not even friends, Jack.” you bit, and Jack puffed his chest up.

“If I find out that he met the kids before I did, I am going to-”

“You’re going to what?” you let out a humorless laugh and Jack was almost sure he saw your eye twitch. “You are unbelievable, Jack. You’re so unfair and entitled to what’s not yours anymore.”

“I’m unfair?” he smirked, bending slightly to point a finger against his broad chest and look you in your eyes. “I’m unfair?”

“Yes.” you mumbled quietly, crossing your arms.

“You know what? It’s always been me that’s unfair and I’ve accepted it. I’m always unfair when I’m trying to do the right thing by us and I’m fucking tired of it.”

“There’s no us anymore, Jack. We can’t talk about that stuff anymore. The only “us” is the kids, me, and you. There is no us.”

“I fucking know that!” he yelled, making you flinch. “I know that when this guy comes into your life for good, I’m being replaced. I know that, but you cannot blame me for trying. You were my first fucking love, Y/N, you’re still the only woman I’ll love like this. I know I’m the bad guy- I know I’m the guy that couldn’t be bothered to make it home on time because he was drunk. And I know that you’re this angel that I didn’t fucking deserve. I know you found Mr. Perfect; I know you found the guy that’s not going to put you through what I did, but when you figure that out, when you’re sure of that, what we had, the smallest bit of what we had, is gone. It’s going to be gone and I won’t be able to do anything about it!”

At the end of his rant, his fist crashed to the counter, rattling the glass of milk and sending it to the floor. There wasn’t a shadow of doubt in your mind that Jack would ever hurt you, but it didn’t stop you from taking a step back and swallowing before looking in his murky blue eyes.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” he sniffled, dragging his hands down his face and cursing to himself. “Y/N, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m acting like this. I’ll leave.”

“It’s okay.” you shook your head, blinking back your tears to keep his guilt away. “No, we can talk.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” you nodded in understanding but kept your eyes on the milk dripping onto the floor. “C’mon, look at me.”

You sniffled when Jack stepped closer and allowed him to cup your cheeks and tilt your head up towards him. The sob you let out started in your chest and as soon as Jack saw the hiccup and quiver of your lips, he pulled you into his chest, one hand against the back of your head and the other on your lower back.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry.” he whispered, and you pulled back.

“It’s not you, Jack. I just miss you and I-it's been three years since we’ve broken up and I still don’t know how to deal with it. I have no fucking clue how to do what I’ve been doing since we broke up.”

“Me neither.” he admitted softly, making you shake your head. “I know I’m being unfair, but I don’t know how to play nice when I’m fighting for you.”

Your eyes softened in the same way his voice did as he kept his hold on you, savoring it for what it was. “Sometimes I don’t think I tried hard enough.”

“You did, Y/N. By the end of it, it was me who was slacking.”

“I think we were both just tired and maybe we did need the time apart.”

“Not three years, though.”

“Hey, you’re the one who kept your mouth shut for all those years.” you teased, poking his chest with a smirk and Jack chuckled. “Are we going to try again, Jack?”

“I’m ready.” he told you, stroking your head softly and looking at you pensively. “Are you?”

“Yeah.” you breathed out, smiling softly. “I want you back.”

Jack opened his mouth, obviously to say something, but you didn’t give him the chance. You hooked an arm around his shoulders and pulled him down, causing the two of you to take a few steps towards the counter behind you. You gasped when your back hit the hardwood and Jack immediately placed a soothing hand there while he took the chance to lick into your mouth.

Every part of you was on fire, that resistant spark that burned in the pit of your stomach was lit by the match of your and Jack’s revelation. Your grip on him tightened like he was only an apparition that could be whisked away if you let him go once more. The kiss became intertwined with emotions of lust and longing as your bodies were in a matter of seconds. You were attempting to untuck Jack’s shirt the same way he was struggling to tug up your dress.

“Right here?” he breathed out, and you shivered when you realized the lower part of your body was exposed to Jack.

“I don’t care, wherever.”

“Fuck, okay.” Jack grunted, as he helped hoist you to the counter, undoing his fly between your legs while kissing the side of your neck while you tugged at his hair. “Damn, you smell so good.”

“Jack, we need a-”

Your sentence was interrupted by a knock at the door. You and Jack looked at each other- your eyes were wide and his were filled with annoyance as he returned to your kissing your neck.

“Jack, that’s Emmett.”

“Just don’t answer. He’ll go away.”

“No, that’s not- fuck, Jack.” you gasped, squeezing your legs around his hips through his determined advances. “Jack!”

“Y/N!” he exclaimed back to you, gripping your thighs. “Come on, baby.”

“Move.” you whispered, and Jack rolled his eyes before letting you down.

Your heart pounded in guilt, but the rest of you pulsed in pleasure as you looked to the man who could give you what you needed. Under his blue glare, you almost felt yourself go weak in the knees, but you knew you’d fight with a conscience if you left Emmett to knock on your door any louder.

“Tell him Daddy’s home.” Jack said smugly behind you, and it took more effort than it should’ve to not drag him into your bedroom.

With another tug at the hem of your dress, you opened the door and smiled sympathetically at Emmett who looked nervous. “Hey, Y/N, I thought something was wrong. I saw another car parked outside.”

“Emmett, I’m so sorry.” you huffed, hearing Jack clattering in the home behind you.

“I understand if you need a raincheck.” he smiled, and you wanted to yell at him for being so understanding.

“Actually, I don’t think we'll be going out again anymore. I’ve had so much fun with you, and you’ve been so sweet to me, but there’s someone else. And it’s new! Very new.”

“I don’t understand? You string me along for how fucking long just to drop me like this?”

“I swear, I wasn’t trying to string you along. I promise.”

“That makes it so much better. When were you going to tell me? I mean, what kind of bitch does-”

“Aye!” Jack yelled, storming from the kitchen to the threshold the angriest you’d ever seen him. “Who the fuck are you to come and yell in her face like that? You better get ahold of yourself, man.”

Emmett hardly seemed threatened by Jack who towered over both of you and kept a hand on your stomach to hold you close to his chest. “Your ex, Y/N, seriously? It doesn’t get any worse than that.”

“You got something to say to her, you look at me while you say it.”

“Jack.” you whispered, grabbing his hand to pull it away from you. “I can wrap it up.”

Jack was bound to hold his place until you turned around and looked at him in a way that left no more room for argument. With another threatening glare that ultimately did make Emmett blush, Jack walked away as he mumbled something along the lines of, “Punk ass.”

“I understand that I seem like a terrible person, and maybe this does make me a terrible person, Emmett, but Jack is and always was it for me. I also know that saying that makes it worse, but we weren’t it for each other. We had fun and I hate that it’s ending like this, but your person was never going to be me.”

Emmett sighed and scratched his head. “I do understand that. I’m glad you’re happy.”

“Thank you.” you smiled, reaching out to give him a friendly hug. “Have a good night, Emmett.”

“You, too.”

With a deep breath, you shut the door behind you and saw Jack leaned over the counter with a cookie in his hand and a new upright glass of milk next to him. You smiled back at him, and he sauntered over the counter.

“Can I tell you something?” you murmured, placing your hands on Jack’s chest when he was close enough.

“I want to hear everything you have to say to me.” he obliged, wrapping his arms around you.

“When you bought up him meeting the kids, I knew we were over. Me and Emmett, I mean. I don’t want to share our babies growing up with anyone else or share this part of myself anyone else. I’ve been looking for someone to fill the hole you left, but I know that if I don’t find it with you, it won’t be anyone.”

“I’ve tried to explain that to people, that feeling that’s left when you lose the love of your life and they nod and they say they understand, but I know they don’t. It only makes sense that it’s you that gets it, though, right?”

You smiled and shrugged. “I guess it does.”

You and Jack shared another kiss, this one mutually slower and softer. Your hands trailed as if you were trying to mold one another and remind yourselves what the other felt like. “I know you don’t feel like it tonight and I’m perfectly okay with that.”

“Thank you.” you softly brushed the sides of his face, and he pecked your lips. “Now, it is still a child-free night, so my vote is that we go get in my bed and watch something that isn’t a Disney production?”

“You are so lame.” Jack laughed, and you gasped to feign shock. “I mean, this is our first night back together and that’s what you want to do? It’s seven o’clock!”

“What do you suggest, then?”

“The fair is still in town.” he suggested, and you grinned. “And we can get on all the rides we want because we don’t have two kids with us.”

“I love you, Jack Harlow.”

“I love you more.” he said genuinely, and you scrunched your nose as you accepted the kiss he left on your temple before you went back into your room to change.

You weren’t sure what lulled you out of your sleep as you held a sleeping Jack against your chest. He slept soundly, light snores disturbing the air. As you stroked his hair and kissed him delicately, you looked over at your door to find the three stuffed animals he won along with the new photobooth strip that now sat amongst the few framed pictures of you and your children.

You and Jack made yourselves feel like teenagers again, running around the dark fair and getting sugar rushes from cotton candy and spending way too much money on rigged game booths, but Jack’s ego could not be disturbed. Not to mention the night ending much better than you expected when you stumbled through your front door while Jack talked about how much better he was than any guy that would've come along against your lips.

It was no wonder why you could drift back to sleep so easily. That was until your eyes flew back open at the loud banging of the door and a phone buzzing from somewhere. Jack shot up, narrowly missing your chin and looking around.

“What the fuck?” he grimaced, pinching the bridge of his nose as he sat up, looking down at you and smiling proudly.

“Jack, go see what it is.” you urged him, pushing at his side. “I’m naked.”

“Stay like that.” he told you as he rolled out of bed and tugged a pair of sweatpants up his long legs.

You threw your head back to the mattress and pulled the sheets up, hoping that it was someone looking to borrow an egg or two for breakfast. You listened out for whatever noise there was, only to hear two excited voices.

“Daddy!” Elle squealed, jumping into Jack’s arms as you scrambled to get dressed.

“Hi, pumpkin.”

“Dad, what are you doing here?” Max asked, jumping in front of Jack happily while your mother stood at the threshold.

“Um, your mom made some cookies last night and I wanted to come taste them.” he explained dully, looking at your mother who had a knowing look as you came down the hall with a robe covering your backwards clothes.

“Hi, my loves.” you greeted, kissing both of their cheeks before looking up at your mom. “Hi, Mom, thanks for keeping them last night, but it’s a little early, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s three o’clock in the afternoon.”

You and Jack laughed awkwardly, and she smiled. “We must’ve overslept.”

“There’s a ‘we’?” she asked, as Elle clambered down Jack.

“We’re going to work on some things, of course, but yeah.” you nodded, placing a hand on Jack’s back happily.

“I’m happy to hear that. Two grandchildren aren’t enough.”

"Right, well, on that note.” you reached out to hug your mother who let out a hearty laugh.

“I’ll see you all later.” she told you and Jack smiled politely as you guided her out the door and to her car.

When you returned, Jack and the kids were already in the kitchen and you were dreading the pending conversation you expected to have, but their clamoring was only about what they wanted for breakfast.

“Okay, I have one vote for French toast and the other for pancakes!” Jack stood behind counter, and you came up behind the two kids with a smile, a hand in each of their curly heads. “What do you want, Mama?”

Your cheeks warmed at the charming nickname that hadn’t graced his lips in far too long before humming. “I’m in the mood for waffles, honestly.”

“Me, too. Waffles, it is.”

“Hey!” Max exclaimed, pouting. “You and Mama can’t team up!”

“Yes, we can.” Jack teased, sticking out his tongue.

Elle, of course, followed his example and mimicked the action to her brother. “No pancake, no pancake.”

“You’re not getting your toast either.”

“Don’t care.” she blew a raspberry, to which Max dramatically responded, leading to the both of them leaping from their chairs and running into the playroom.

“No running!” you and Jack yelled at the same time and shared a look with one another. You got closer to him and kissed his cheek softly.

“I could get used to this.” he murmured as he pulled down the waffle maker.

“What’s that? Waking up at three in the afternoon to make waffles?”

“That and being home with my favorite people.” he winked, earning your smile.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind you getting used to that.”

#jack harlow #jack harlow x reader #dad!jack #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow fanfiction #jack harlow angst #jack harlow fluff

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chokohen · 15 days

Text

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Hi! I’m Cho! I’ve been roleplaying and writing fanfiction for about eight years now! I took a two-year break from roleplay because I got busy, but now I intend to get back into the groove. I really miss roleplaying and hyper-fixating on original characters with others, so I hope to find that again making this post to scout partners ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹!

Cho ⁞ He/him ⁞ 18

All art by Takeshi Obata

Roleplay Status: Open

𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒

FYI: I will not roleplay with anyone who is a minor or under 18!

I⎯ HOW TO CONTACT ME: I roleplay exclusively on Discord, so please contact me @y2kkoko. My name is char on there, which you can also call me. You can also contact me here if you want to roleplay, however, we will take it to Discord after our initial introduction. So, you definitely need Discord to roleplay with me. If you have any further questions, you either ask under this post or click the “Ask me Anything!” on my profile!

II⎯ LITERACY LEVEL: I’ve always been literate throughout the years I’ve roleplayed. Though, as of recently, I’ve been an advanced-literate to novella roleplayer. I find it much more enjoyable being advanced-literate. I like writing detailed and lengthy replies with more than five paragraphs. Usually, my replies range from 1000-2000 words per response, so please be okay with that. I’m detail-oriented in my prose. I enjoy describing emotions and details of the environment/setting. I’ll be sure to leave an example of my writing style at the end of the post ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧!

III⎯ VOCABULARY & GRAMMAR: I don’t take this so seriously. I’m not a pro editor, but please keep your typos to a minimum. Sometimes if there are too many typos in one sentence it becomes very hard to read. As for grammar, I don’t notice any minor grammar mistakes—to this day I don’t know how a semicolon works. I’d also like to consider a lot of people on here don't have English as their first language, so I understand.

IV⎯OC CRITERIA: I’m not very picky when it comes to original characters, as long as they’re interesting and intriguing. I, myself, draw, so two out of the three of my original characters I drew. However, face claims are completely fine if they are real people, anime or art (that is credited and/or granted permission via the artist).

V⎯THEMES & GENRES: Like previously mentioned, I’m not a picky guy, so a lot of genres I’m open to roleplay. However, I do have a few I specifically love. I like romance, science fiction, historical fiction, fantasy *looks around awkwardly* and smut—ANYWAYS! When it comes to historical fiction, I’m not educate on every historical event or past-time in the world, so obviously there’s limits to what I can and can’t roleplay.

As for themes, I’m an avid enjoyer of angst, especially hurt/comfort. I’m fine with dark themes such as drug abuse and violence. However, I will not roleplay anything that’s under the umbrella of sexual assault, such as pedophelia and sexual coercion. I’m fine with sexual assault being mentioned in your character’s backstory, but that’s as far as it can go.

Though, for NSFW, I don’t know what I don’t and do like, so please communicate to me what you plan on doing if we ever roleplay smut.

VI⎯ PLOTTING: I never have plots in mind, but I do have an old stack of plots buried somewhere in my Google Docs. Though, I’m good at making them and being a helping hand according to my previous roleplay partners. With that being said, I don’t want to make a plot where I’m the only one constructing the storyline. Roleplay isn’t a one-sided effort, so, please, put mutual effort into creating and writing the scenes.

VII⎯ PAIRING CRITERIA: I don’t limit myself to any relationship dynamic, but most of and probably all of my roleplay experience is with lgbtq pairings. This includes mlm, wlw and anything under that umbrella. I don’t exclude those who are non-binary or gender non-conforming (e.g. gender fluid and two-spirit people). Since I’m a gay guy, I’ve mostly roleplayed mlm. However, even though I’ve barely roleplayed wlw, I’ve written a lot of wlw short stories and read and watched alot of wlw fiction so I’m not uneducated in that manner!

Further clarification of what I pairings I can do:

man loves man (mlm)

trans man/transmasc loves man (mlm)

non-binary/gender non-conforming loves man (nblm)

woman loves woman (wlw)

nonbinary/gender non-conforming loves nonbinary/gender non-conforming (nblnb)

trans woman/transfemme loves woman (wlw)

nonbinary/gender non-conforming loves w (nblw)

man loves woman (mlw; inexperienced)

pretty much anything.

𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌𝐒

I⎯ JUJUTSU KAISEN: I’ve been a fan of Jujutsu Kaisen since 2021, so I know quite a lot about it. Unfortunately, I’m not completely caught up to the manga. From what I remember, I read up to chapter 210. However, I know all the spoilers and the current plot in the recent chapters either from leaks or from online gossip! I’m a huge SatoSugu shipper, and Geto is one of my all-time favourite characters! I also like Itadori and Choso ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹

II⎯ HELL’S PARADISE: JIGOKURAKU: I have only watched season one of Hell’s Paradise and only read some of the manga. However, I’m up to roleplaying any of the plot of season one (as of the time I’m posting this: May 7th, 2024). My favourite characters are the Tensen (I’m sorry, I have a love for villains), Sagiri and Yuzuriha!

III⎯ TOKYO REVENGERS: Oh, I love Tokyo Revengers so much ദ്ദി ꒦ິ꒳꒦ິ )✧! I’ve been a fan of TR since 2021, and despite the fact the manga is finished I still obsess over it to this day. My all-time favourite character is Koko, and I love him so much. I really love Inukoko, so if anyone sees this post and is both a Tokyo Revengers fan and loves Inupi x Koko, please hit me up. I’m begging to roleplay Koko in any situation possible.

IV⎯ GOKURAKUGAI/GOKURAKU DISTRICT: This manga is fairly new, but I’m in love with the plot right now, along with the art style and character designs. I’m free to play any character from this manga! My favourite from Gokurakugai is Yomi (the hot evil guy with white hair).

V⎯ CHAINSAW MAN: I’m caught up with Chainsaw Man, both part one and part two. However, I’m only like a chapter or two behind in part two. My favourites from this series is Reze, Denji, Quanxi, Makima and Aki. I love RezeDenji a lot. Lastly, I’m completely fine with playing any of the character’s I listed prior.

𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐘

I⎯ TIME ZONE: My time zone is Easter Standard Time or EST/EDT. Please be at least an hour to three hours away from my time. I feel it’s really hard to roleplay with people who are five to six hours ahead of me, and let’s not even fathom how hard it would be to roleplay with someone 12 hours ahead of me. With that being said, my activity time during the week is much less than during the weekend. I am definitely active on the weekend unless I have a huge assignment or project due. I have to warn you that a few of those will come up, so I will go inactive for a few days.

II⎯ COMMUNICATION: With that being said, communication is key to keeping my future/our partnership together. I do like talking a lot out of the roleplay, discussing storyline ideas, making jokes and being compatible with my partners. Furthermore, I will tell you if I have a huge project or assignment due, or if exam season is coming up. Please do the same if you’re busy and tell me in case you can’t reply. As of now, I believe my replies will take 2-3 days, though when there’s a lot of homework I might not be able to reply until the weekend. However, I will try to talk to you OOC in the meantime!

WRITING EXAMPLE

Once again, please contact me if you read through these rules and think we are compatible! You can either DM me on here or DM me on discord @y2kkoko

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nerdacious · 2 months

Note

So now that the fic has been finished for a bit I have some questions about the making of Partners and Paper Trails. I'm just curious about what it was like to write it (and wondering whether my experiences writing for this fandom are universal). No pressure to answer!

Generally speaking, did you find Harry's chapters or Kim's chapters harder/easier to write?

Which parts of the fic (either POV) were your favorite to write? Alternatively, which parts were unexpectedly frustrating?

From what I understand, you wrote the entire fic ahead of time and then edited it as you went along, but didn't start publishing it until the first draft was entirely finished. Do you have any advice for someone who's attempting to write a long fic following a similar process?

(as a secret fourth question, if there's any hidden lore/details that people didn't seem to pick up on/something else fic related you want to share and haven't had the opportunity to, I'm all ears. love me some secret lore 👀)

Sorry it took me so long to respond, I was working on my response instead of working and then I was like crap, I should probably do work, and then I actually went out and did stuff with people irl for once lol. So now I'm back home and can answer this!

Generally speaking, did you find Harry's chapters or Kim's chapters harder/easier to write?

There were aspects of both that were difficult. I spent a whole other fic in Kim's head so I had more practice with him, but I think Harry ended up being a little easier or at least more fun. I could break up reactions and thoughts into each of his aspects vs the solid paragraphs of Kim's chapters. You also can just do more wacky stuff with Harry and his skills. However, it was hard to remember all of the skills. Like, I did Encyclopedia so dirty. After a point I kind of just forgot about him or didn't feel like thinking up facts for him to chime in about lol

Which parts of the fic (either POV) were your favorite to write? Alternatively, which parts were unexpectedly frustrating?

My favorite thing to write is dialogue, especially when Kim and Harry are really getting into the groove of the case and when they get their little banters going. I also really like competence porn so Harry wasn't nearly as much of a mess as he could be in game. It was a bit of a wish fulfillment fic in that I wanted to see Harry doing better for himself and not just for Kim. I think directly after Martinaise he probably was doing worse than the point he's at in the start of the fic.

The hardest part was writing the case and trying not to make it too obvious (but it definitely was so I had to hope people enjoyed it regardless haha). I'd never done a mystery before so coming up with what happened and how/what they discovered was challenging. So I guess that's not really unexpectedly difficult. Writing the actual porn was unexpectedly frustrating! A majority of what I write is smut so it was like "why is this so difficult???". I had to get that last chapter perfect (I still don't think it is, but what writer ever does) because I dragged it out long enough and I didn't want to let anyone down. It's very different from what I originally had. I also had never written d/s before, thankfully my editor has experience in that realm so he had really good pointers even though it's really light in the fic lol. I still don't know how successful I was with the smut for this one.

Some people can just write and post as they go, but I have way too much anxiety to start posting something that isn't finished. I also have way too much ADHD to trust that once I started something I actually would finish it. I've also seen too many fics that don't know or don't want to quit so they just keep going past the point where it would have been a good/interesting ending (not really in this fandom, I just mean in general). So, yes, I finished it, had my editor do an initial read, made some general edits based on his feedback, and then he did a more in-depth edit of the first few chapters and then I started posting them. Some chapters I added a lot more to them during this stage and some chapters stayed pretty much the same. There are a few chapters that haven't been edited because he was unexpectedly unavailable for an extended period of time and I didn't want to stop the momentum. I didn't really have a beta reader for this one, but I asked a few people to beta specific chapters. It's not something I typically would want, I'd have preferred to have a beta for all of it, but it is what it is (or was rather). So all of that is to say, you don't have to do it that way lol, but I would at least have an outline and stopping point and stick to it. And if you want a beta reader, find someone who's opinion you trust and who you can trust will be honest with you. Also don't get rid of anything entirely. If you like something, but it doesn't work, cut it and paste it in a separate document because you might find a way to bring it back or parts of it back in other places. Also make copies for version control. Once I finished it, I made a copy so if I changed something too much in the final version but didn't like it, I could either refer back to or restore parts from the original.

As for secret lore/things no one mentioned:

In the first chapter, when Mollins first flips the siren on, Harry has an adverse reaction to the sound because of his encounter with The Pigs. Then there's an Esprit De Corps check about her listening to her police shows. (Hilarious fact: I couldn't remember her real name correctly at first and before I double checked the wiki I thought it was Marine Le Pen loool)

This goes back to the first fic, but Kim bought a book on how to support someone in addiction recovery and the receipt shows he bought it when he first started as a detective with Eyes. If you take the radiation drug in the game, there's mention of Kim possibly having had a partner with addiction. Also based on his many comments on seeing officers in much worse condition and having only one partner, I'm guessing he's talking about Eyes so I went with that. I still have no idea what exactly happened with Eyes in my story, though.

Shivers helps Kim open the door to the Linnea.

The reason Johnny's body was dropped off in the Harbor is because there had been a bank robbery in Jamrock at the time and there were cops everywhere looking for anything suspicious. That's a tidbit that didn't make it into the text.

The people in Harry's Shivers check in the first part of his final POV chapter are the people that would have been targeted next.

Thanks for asking these questions, they were fun to answer!

#asks #disco elysium #my fic #fanfiction #Partners and Paper Trails #writing

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intubatedangel · 1 year

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Code Red - Conclusion

I got a bit carried away with this one. It’s a long chapter, and I did consider splitting it into two, but honeslty felt it wouldn’t work as well in two pieces, it all fits together as a single unit. I really hope it is worth the read, but can’t say much else without spoilers.

I’ll be taking a break from the series after this, I’ve got some non-resus stories I want to try and write while I’m still in the groove, and I need to emotionally recover from such a heavy story.

Story Index

* * *

The sky was shrouded with a layer of grey cloud and rain pattered down, drumming lightly on the old slates. It wasn't too hard a shower, spring was more a time of drizzle and persistent light rain, rather than howling storms. Carl watched large drops splash on the ground beneath a crack in the aging cast iron gutter as he sat on the old wooden bench underneath the lean-to porch, situated next to a side door of the small, old church. Anna had often told him that she wasn't religious, but in this part of the world that didn't particularly mean much. In small villages with no other amenities beyond perhaps a pub or inn, the church was simply the place where community events took place. Festivals. Jubilee celebrations.

Weddings.

Funerals.

Carl shivered as the memory intruded upon him again. He still hadn't been able to shake free of the images, despite counselling. Anna, laid out on the trauma bed, lifeless. Her utterly unmoving heart held between his hands. The sound too. A screaming monitor just behind him. Sarah's sobs as the young nurse cracked.

A hand on his shoulder broke him free of the grim reverie with a jump. Carl looked up to see Roger stood beside him. The nurse gazed down at him with a look in his eyes. Not quite pity, more of understanding with a sad element of helplessness. Which was more than true. They'd talked about it at length on more than one occasion since that day. Roger's presence in Trauma 3 wouldn't have changed anything, and every idea the two of them had come up with to combat the recurrent memories had been a bust. The only thing left to try was deeper, more intensive therapy.

He just had to get through today. Maybe doing that would help all by itself. Carl gave Roger a nod and pushed himself to his feet, throwing off the past and coming fully back to the present. They both stepped up to lean against different thick oak pillars, gazing out through the haze of the rain at the church's graveyard. Anna's adopted family had been a fixture of the village for untold years. There were generations of Swifts buried here.

Roger blew out a breath. "Do you know what you're going to say?" He asked.

Carl nodded, slipping a hand into the inside pocket of his black suit, pulling out a folded piece of paper. "I don't know if I'll be able to though."

"You will." The nurse said, making it seem like a simple statement of fact. A moment later he stood straighter, looking out at the road leading down to the church. Carl followed Roger's gaze, quickly locking on the long black car as it passed behind the trees. Roger turned to him, his hand landing on Carl's shoulder again. "Here she comes. We should get inside."

* * *

THE DAY OF THE ATTACK

Stelling had relented to Carl's request for 5 more minutes with a small nod, easing back from the bed to leave him to it. He turned to look at Mark, or more particularly the rapid infuser.

"Go ahead with another full round of blood products."

"This'll be all we have." The nurse warned.

"Jones will be here." Carl told him. Not that it would matter if they didn't get Anna back by the time the red bags were empty.

Through the conversation Carl's hands had continued to squeeze Anna's heart, palms and fingers pumping the otherwise inactive muscle. He feel the blood in the chambers, a glance at the monitor telling him that Anna's blood pressure, above the aortic clamp at least, was almost at a normal level. They, He, just needed that heart in his grasp to beat on its own.

He glanced at the clock. 2 of those 5 minutes had slid by already. It was so hard to tell time when everyone was so quiet. And when there was so little else to do. It also meant it had been 4 since the last round of adrenaline.

"Get me another round of epi." He said to Trish. "Inject it directly into her heart."

It was a desperate measure. It was a more desperate time. This was already one round beyond the usual maximum. She'd probably bled a few rounds out before they stopped the worst bleeding. As a justification for breaking protocol, it wasn't the best. However, the protocol was based on evidence. Any epi beyond the maximum showed no clear difference to outcomes. But if, technically, that maximum amount hadn't truly made it into her system, maybe giving her one more would make a difference.

Carl kept up the compressions while Trish filled the syringe, and stepped up beside him. "Right in there." He indicated with his finger, while still compressing. He was pointing just below where the coronary arteries branched from the aorta, and did his best to keep Trish’s target still as he made sure blood still flowed. The sheer size of the aorta would mean some, maybe even most of the drug would be sent elsewhere, but it also meant the whole heart itself would receive a decent dose at the same time.

Carl desperately hoped it would be enough.

He watched Trish guide the point of the needle towards the indicated point. Her hands were tightly controlled, not even a single tremor. The needle pierced the aorta just above the ventricle, sliding in just a tiny distance. Trish held the barrel with one hand, keeping the tip of the needle where it needed to be, and eased the plunger in with the other. Carl's massage pushed the drug into her system, and her heart.

Trish extracted the needle, stepping clear of Anna's chest, limiting any potential to accidently introduce an infection, in the increasingly vain hope that Anna would survive long enough for that to be a concern. Carl had hoped for an immediate response to the adrenaline, but Anna's heart didn't react.

Come on baby. Come on. Come back to me. Come back to me baby.

He repeated variations on that refrain in his head as he stared at her face.

He never even noticed the moment he started saying it out loud.

"Carl....Carl!"

Everything looked hazy, until he blinked away his tears. As his vision cleared he became aware of everything.

Sarah was sobbing. She'd detached the ambubag and dropped it next to Anna's head. The monitor behind him continued to scream, Anna was still asystolic. Her heart refused to even twitch. It laid there in his hands, lifeless, just like the rest of her body.

The surgeons had stopped working. He raised his head, to see Jones stood inside the trauma room, a large bag slung over one arm. His other was wrapped around Lucy as she buried her face in his shoulder. Trish laid her hand on Carl's elbow. He couldn't look at her.

Instead, his gaze drifted towards Stelling. He didn't expect it, but she looked broken. Her eyes glistened with her own tears. "Carl, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She took a shuddering breath. "It's been 35 minutes. I...I have to call it." She looked at the clock, one hand gripping part of the sheets in a knot. "Time..." Her voice cracked. "Time of death, 04:17"

* * *

Anna was able to feel Carl's compressions. But not much else. Her abdomen no longer existed to her senses. She did not feel her lungs inflating. The pulses from those compressions had slipped beyond her. She only felt the physical squeezing of her heart by his hands. And even that was fading away from her.

Please don't stop.

Her mental voice had barely the strength of a whisper.

Don't let me go.

She felt so insignificant. She tried to cling to that feeling of her heart being massaged, but it too was beginning to fade. Even though she was in a lightless void, a greater darkness seemed to be drawing in around her.

The squeezing of her heart stopped. Not like her sense of it faded away. It simply stopped.

They had stopped.

No...

She whimpered as that final darkness started to rush in at her.

* * *

Carl's world was ending. Tears tracked down his face, soaking into his mask. He looked at her blank face, her empty eyes.

She can't be gone.

But she was. Her heart, cradled in his hands, lay totally still.

He heard others crying around him, in a far off, disconnected way. He couldn't move, his body frozen.

She's gone. Anna's gone.

* * *

I'm so sorry Carl

The rushing darkness was close to snuffing her out completely. Close to erasing everything she was. Her memories of the past. Her feelings in the present. Her hopes for the future.

No.

All those dreams of times with Carl. Of love. Family. Life.

Not like this.

She wasn't pleading.

She was pissed.

I won't leave him! You hear me! I will NOT go!

Anger had never really come easily to her. It had always seemed like a waste of energy.

Now, she raged, pulling on every memory, every emotion. Every dream.

You think I'm just going to let you take all of that from me?!

She roared at the eternal darkness.

FUCK YOU!

She drew all her rage into a single point and cast it out like a supernova, a brilliant flash in the darkness.

* * *

Anna's heart twitched in his hands. For a long moment he thought he had imagined it. Then it quivered, wriggled, and began to squirm. Carl's head snapped around to the monitor, that persistent whine had gone, replaced by the two tone alarm, and a coarse v-fib was juddering along the screen.

"Charge to 50!" He called out, spinning around to grab the wand like paddles.

"Carl..." He heard Stelling saying something, but he blocked her out. Thankfully Trish had set and charged the defib.

Carl turned to back to Anna, plunging the paddles into her open chest, placing them around her shivering heart.

"Clear!" He shouted, even though no one was touching her. They'd all stood back after giving up.

He pressed the buttons.

Anna's heart spasmed once as the shock jolted through, the muscles throughout her chest giving a tiny jerk. Time almost stopped. Anna's heart fell still. For an agonising, endless moment, it stayed still.

Then it moved.

A co-ordinated contraction, first the atria, then the ventricles.

The monitor bleeped, once, twice, three times. It continued bleeping.

And Anna's heart continued beating.

* * *

She's alive.

Carl finally breathed again, his brain buzzing as thoughts ran into one another. But that was the most important one.

Anna's alive!

"Get the vest! We need to cool her down!" He shouted. Her body was alive, he needed to keep her brain that way too. He looked beside him to Edwards, wordlessly asking for an update.

"Renal artery is grafted, it'll hold for long enough." She said. "We can pack the rest and give her a few hours at least." She said, with a relieved sigh.

"Keep that infuser going, just like you have been." Carl told Mark. It wasn't much of an apology for his earlier forcefulness, but the nurse nodded, his expression offering forgiveness.

"Carl." It was Stelling again. "You need to leave her to us."

"Not yet."

"Now." She didn't shout, but her voice held the same unyielding command he often used. Unsurprising really. He'd learned it from her. "I can forgive your actions so far. But it's time to step aside." She held his gaze for a moment, then looked down at Anna. "We'll do everything we can. I promise."

A small part of his mind snarled at that. She had literally declared the love of his life dead. But he knew the senior doctor well. Where there was real hope, she would fight for her patients. Anna had that hope now.

Finally, Carl stepped back from the bed. His knee's trembled, and he had to place a hand on the crash cart to steady himself for a moment. The last hour had been a chaotic, terrifying, adrenaline rush. With Anna back, and nothing left for him to do, it finally started to hit him. He pulled off the glasses, mask, and gloves, letting them drop to the floor as the nurses followed their orders. He only had eyes for Anna.

Before the bed got too busy he slipped around to the top of the bed, next to Sarah. The nurse was still taking shaky breaths, but she had reattached the ambu-bag. She eased to one side for him, letting him close enough to lean down over Anna's head.

"I love you Anna Swift." He breathed, as he laid a quick gentle kiss on her forehead. "I love you."

He stood straighter, moving out of the way as the nurses arranged the cooling vest. The surgeons were working both sites, packing sterile gauze into her chest and abdomen and preparing to cover the sites temporarily before they took her to the operating theatre. They left the aortic clamp in place for now. He watched on as the whole team worked together to gently lift her up enough to slide the vest underneath her, extracting her shredded clothing at the same time.

He could feel himself trembling, the shock ramping up as he found himself unable to take his eyes off the blood soaked bundle that had been dumped on the floor. He jumped when Stelling put her hand on his arm. "Carl." She said quietly, the stony voice of his boss replaced by the compassion of a friend. "Go and get cleaned up. We'll let you know if anything changes." He struggled to nod, but the comforting squeeze Stelling gave his arm helped.

His legs felt like lead, and there was a constant ringing in his ears. He had to keep glancing at the monitor to confirm it wasn't an alarm as he backed out of the trauma room. Though the windows he watched as they got the vest wrapped around Anna's body and switched the ambu bag for a ventilator. It was one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do, but he finally dragged himself down the hall enough to take her from his view.

* * *

He shuffled down the corridor, pushing through the doors and heading for the staff room. He ignored all of the stares at his bloody clothes. All the questions from nurses and doctors. The words themselves didn't penetrate, but it was clear they knew now that it was Anna in trauma 3. His lack of response probably didn't help them, but he simply couldn't.

He finally made it to the staff room. He trudged to his locker, fingers refusing to cooperate as he manipulated the lock. Eventually he pulled it open. A change of clothes hung there, but he ignored them. Instead, his hands went to his jacket, finding a small box inside one of the pockets. His hand clamped around it, pulling it out.

It was all too much. He staggered back until he managed to brace his hand on one of the sofas, then he sank down until he sat on the floor. His mind was spinning beyond his, beyond anyone’s control. He'd come so close to losing her. He still might.

He wept.

He didn't know how many people came through. They said things to him. Gave comforting squeezes on his shoulders. An occasional one sided hug. Some sat by him for a time. It all just passed him by. He simply stared at the bank of lockers. At one in particular. Anna's. Daylight started shining through the lone window, casting a wedge of light across the lockers. To his perception it seemed to jump across lockers in small movements as the sun rose. The rest of the time all he saw was Anna laying on the landing covered in blood. Anna mouthing three words to him. Anna staring past him. Anna with a tube shoved down her throat. Anna receiving deep compressions. Anna with her chest open and her heart in his hands.

Finally, someone managed to break through to him. They had been sat beside him for a while. And he'd been vaguely aware of a conversation between the one next to him and someone else. He just wanted them to go away. To leave him alone. But they wouldn't. The person moved to kneel in front of him.

"Carl. Come on mate." He said, shaking Carl's shoulder, first gently then more aggressively. "Don't make me slap you."

Carl blinked, his eyes finally moving to look at Roger.

The nurse let out a breath. "Good. Listen. She's out of surgery. She's still with us. You hear me? She's still with us."

Carl tried to reply, but his mouth was dryer than the Sahara. He opted for a nod.

"That's it. They're gettin' her situated in the ICU, but you're going to have to change before they let you in, yeah?"

Carl glanced down at himself. The blood, Anna’s blood, on his clothing had dried, turning to a coppery colour. He gave another nod. Roger stood, and held out a hand, helping to haul Carl to his feet. Pain shot through his back and legs. The physical sensations helped to pull Carl back together more than the words. He must have winced or groaned.

"Yeah, 6 hours sat on the floor will do that to you." The nurse said, trying for a bit of levity.

It had been that long? Roger kept him steady as Carl found his feet. He finally parted his hands. The small box had left deep indentations in his palms, but he kept it from view. He started towards his still open locker.

"I'll get those. You get into the shower."

Carl's knees protested, but he took a step. He clapped a hand on Roger's shoulder and gave him a nod. He tried to say something but couldn't find the words. He just nodded again.

The nurse reached up and mirrored Carl's gesture. "It's ok mate. I know."

Carl slowly made his way to the shower, not letting the small box out of his grasp, as awkward as it made the process.

* * *

Carl sat beside the ICU bed. Machines whirred and whooshed and chirped around him. But he could only look at the figure on the bed. Anna looked a mess. But an alive mess. The ET tube was still held in her mouth by the tube holder, and she was wrapped up in the cooling vest. He could just see the bandages through the translucent material, taped over her chest and abdomen. But her skin had colour to it, her lips were pink.

The neurologist had been to examine her, but the findings were inconclusive. There was some damage. She'd been in cardiac arrest for more than half an hour. Nobody was getting through that unscathed. But at this point they had no way to tell just what had been affected, or how bad it was. The EEG monitor was encouraging though. A halo of electrodes ringed her hairline, the wires running to the screen that showed good steady spikes. Neurology wasn't his department, he couldn't interpret them to any significant degree, but he knew one thing. Spiky brain waves meant she wasn't brain dead.

A nurse was fluttering around the machines, checking readings, adjusting levels. Carl said nothing while she was there. He simply held Anna's hand. It chilled his fingers a little, with the vest covering her completely, but he could withstand that. Eventually the nurse wrote one last thing on the chart, and with a small smile, she slipped out of the room. Carl watched her go. Then his hand slipped into his pocket.

"I'm sorry." He said to Anna, almost pretending she wasn't unconscious. "I lied to you, earlier." He took a shuddering breath as he pulled out the small box. He shifted her hand, exposing her fingers, and cradled it as he placed the box half in his hand, half in hers. "About the accountants."

He sighed. He could feel the tears prickling his eyes again. "My grandfather. He did leave me a trust, but they didn't need managed. Not today. Or yesterday, I guess." He said with a chuckle that almost became a sob. "He left me a trust that I was only to use for three things. Education. A home. And..."

Carl looked up at Anna's face. Her beautiful face. His heart ached, desperate to see those eyes open.

"And a ring." He whispered, gently opening the small box.

Inside laid a gold band, wide, but not excessively so. With a series of small stones set into the band itself, forming a palindrome of ruby, sapphire, diamond, sapphire, ruby.

He'd seen her admiring it in the window of the jewellers. Seen her wide eyes and radiant smile. That reaction told him everything he needed to know. She wanted him just as much as he wanted her. And that ring was the perfect one for his perfect partner.

"So please. Anna, baby I'm begging you. Please wake up so I can put it on your finger."

* * *

13 MONTHS LATER

Gravel crunched beneath the wheels of the black car as it made its way down to the church. Flowers adorned the trees that lined the trail, bouquets of pink and white. It was a long trail, almost frustrating by the time it pulled up outside the main door. Anna struggled to contain her excitement as her dad stepped out and rounded the back, coming up to her door and helping her out of the vehicle. Anna hid the wince, the scars were still a little tight, but she could bare it, especially today.

"Are you ready Petal?" He asked, looking her in the eyes.

She nodded, struggling to find any appropriate words, before realising that words were mostly meaningless. She reached out and pulled him into a hug.

He chuckled. "I'm so proud of you." He said into her hair. His voice was thick, heavy with love, true pride, and tinged with the memory of how she was a year ago. " Let's go." He whispered, as they both heard the first few notes from the organ.

As they walked into the church Anna was comforted by the steadfast presence of her father. She might have been adopted, but he was her father. Her hand laid on his arm gently, but he held it firm, ready, just in case. It had been a long year, and she was still recovering. The tingles and numbness in her right side could still come unexpectedly.

They stopped just inside the outer door, beneath the stone vaulting. Literal centuries of brides had stood right there, waiting for the right moment in the music. Trish was there, along with Anna's niece and a young boy, barely even 4 years old, one of Carl's cousins. Trish was already crying, a huge smile on her face. She approached tentatively, but Anna accepted the hug without tottering. It was Trish's turn to be unable to speak. She pulled back, nodded, still with the big smile, and hugged Anna again.

"You're going to make me late..." Anna whispered to her.

Trish finally retreated with a shared grin, and the organ music launched into the main theme. Trish shepherded the children around the corner, leaving Anna and her father in the vestibule, waiting for the cue. Her dad laid his hand upon hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Let's go kiddo."

The music came around to 'the moment' and Anna stepped onto the aisle confidently. She looked around, greeted by the sight of so many familiar faces. Plenty of family, hers and Carl's. Colleagues and friends, the line there was pretty blurred. She didn't want to consider the bill for agency staff the hospital was taking. They hadn't complained though. Perhaps it was the trusts idea of a wedding gift. Even Dr Stelling was there.

It didn't matter how many times Anna told the trauma lead that she understood her actions, the senior doctor was endlessly apologetic. It was genuinely becoming annoying. Part of Anna wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her while screaming 'You don't need to apologise again! I would have done the same thing!' She was glad Stelling had allowed Carl to give her that last jolt, but...ugh, I'm over it, why aren't you, she thought.

The steady arm suddenly felt firmer, and Anna caught herself. She hoped nobody noticed. That was the biggest lingering issue. If she got distracted her mind could float off and leave her limbs behind. Totally normal, for someone who had been dead for half an hour, apparently. In time it would hopefully get better. It was still irritating.

But it did force her to focus, and what a sight it was. Carl stood before the altar, in a frankly ...mmmmfff... fitting suit. She was sure she hadn't forgotten a word, an embarrassingly common occurrence in the last year. For once she knew what she saw was beyond such petty things as words.

Many would say it was a pretty standard suit. But with Carl in it... How do you clothe the perfect man?

He'd been the first face she truly saw when she awoke. He'd held her as emotions pulled her apart and she dragged herself back together again, a beacon when communication was almost impossible. He'd held her arm as she took her first steps on wasted legs, steadied her as she relearned balance. He read her favourite books aloud to ease her off to sleep despite the beeps and bongs of various monitors. He had taken her home, to their home, and cradled her when the nightmares came. As she gradually returned to who she once was, he was there. Always waiting, ironically she reflected, patiently, until she was ready for the next step.

It had been a long year, and at times it was terribly hard. But it only served to deepen their love for each other. The ring was on her finger throughout. And, once her recovery permitted, they'd been able to have some moments of ... fun. Considering they were both employed in the medical profession, they ought to have seen it coming. They'd both been terrified when the doctor asked them to come and double check some results from a routine post-'event' exam.

Anna's hand drifted towards her belly, where the bump was only just starting to show, and Carl's joined it as she alighted the small set of steps up to the altar. His fingers lingered for only a moment though, they had ceremonial obligations to fulfil. Anna watched the embrace between Carl and her father, and realised just how bonded the two had become. If, in some bizarro universe she ever tried to divorce Carl, she had no idea who her father would choose.

Roger's presence behind Carl was also an element she would never have foreseen. They'd been colleagues, sure enough. But something around the 'event' had changed their relationship on a fundamental level. Men. They were weird.

And then Carl took her hands, and it was just the two of them. Nobody else mattered. The vicar was giving his spiel, and Anna was slyly glad she could blame the 'event' for her distraction when it came to the parts that actually needed her input. The truth was she didn't care for anything else but him. His eyes. His smile. Him, standing there before her. It took her a moment to realise what the vicar had said, until Carl unfolded a piece of paper. His voice barely wavered as he read out the handwritten vows, and Anna's heart became physically, metaphorically, and eternally, his.

THE END

* * *

There we go, didn’t want to say this upfront in case of spoiling it, but I hope I made some people reading cry as much I did when writing. It’s the ending I always had in mind but it was so intense to write. Hard but exhillirating. I was up to 2:30am doing the first draft because I was so into it. I sincerely hope everyone enjoyed this series, and I will be back with more stories from Anna and Carl eventually.

#Medical Drama #CPR #Defib #Resus #Resus Writing #Dark Cardiophilia #Anna Swift

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crescentblossom66 · 8 months

Text

@nasubeenwithcat

Happy Birthday! I wrote a little fic for you to celebrate.

Cruel Loneliness

He sighed deeply, turning back around to look at the tracks and the huge desert that stretched out for miles all around him. The little lass had gone back to her ship with the weird hourglass thingy in her hand after she stopped the bomb from blowing his train, the owls, herself, and him to pieces. He knew that with this insane stunt, he'd easily win the annual bird movie awards and that it would feel as empty as it always had. What good was an accomplishment if you had no one to share your happiness with.

It had been years now that his wife left him, and frankly he was happy that that treacherous woman was out of his life for good...but he truly missed visiting his daughter that rightfully hated him for abandoning her for his career. The owl looked out the window, his eyes unblinking as his mind got lost in his dark thoughts. The only person other than his ex-wife that he cared for was his rival...but that was what he was and had always been; his rival, a person that was opposing him, that was a foil to his own creations, his own character even. While he was harsh and demanding of perfection from the people around him and himself, the penguin was always optimistic, took breaks whenever he felt they were needed, and treated his moon penguins with respect and care. He had to admit that his rival movies, despite lacking substance, always were bright and cheerful, the thin plots they usually had were light-hearted and a bit too cheesy for his tastes, but the yellow bird could understand why the former DJ always managed to get into second place.

He wondered how it would be if they had decided to simply work together and share the studio, if they could somehow get over their differences and embrace the strengths and weaknesses of each other...but all of this was wishful thinking, DJ Grooves would never forgive him for what he has done, he knew that the other director was well aware that he sabotaged him more than once. The rift between them that had formed over the years was insurmountable, and even if he apologized, the DJ would just think he'd make a bad joke, or outright laugh at him.

“Sir, we found another one of those hourglasses!-” He got ripped out of his musings by an express owl that stumbled as he tore the door to the control room open. “We found it in one of the suitcases in the storage area!” The yellow owl just about managed to turn to face the screaming nuisance when the brown bird tripped and dropped the hourglass which shattered on the ground. One second, he was gazing at the shocked face of the express owl, and the next, the sandy desert that he started blankly into just moments before, was back in his view without him even recalling that he turned. The Conductor turned back to the owl, that was now standing again even though he should have been lying on the ground instead, while the hourglass had magically fixed itself.

“Did...did that hourglass just...?” He stared at the owl blankly while said bird got back to his feet and rubbed his forehead.

“Ow...my head, I think by beak is broken.” Not even minding the fact that the express owl just ignored him and went to get a first aid kit, he picked the time-altering object off the ground and shook it, nothing happened.

“Am I losin' me mind...” He tilted the unassuming prop and again, no reaction. “Maybe I have to...” He took a couple of steps forward, to test if shattering the hourglass on the ground would put him back into his initial position and he was dumbfounded when he reverted back as he threw the hourglass to the ground. “So...I wasn't imagining it, these weird thingies can rewind time...” He had a hard time wrapping his mind around the concept that those strangely glowing, but otherwise normal looking props had the capacity to alter the flow of time itself.

He watched the sand slowly go from the top half to the bottom half of the item in his talons, and an idea came to him, maybe...just maybe...if he could figure out how to control the power of this hourglass...he could go back all those years and fix his relationship with DJ Grooves, maybe he could actually be his friend...he wouldn't be lonely anymore.

A soft smile spread on the jagged beak of the Western director which soon faltered again as he remembered that there was one obstacle in his way...the lassie.

The young girl definitely knew about the power of those objects as she had been collecting them as soon as she arrived in Dead Bird Studio. He thought that she simply enjoyed that they sparkled and that she would have a prop from one of his soon-to-be blockbusters to sell on Ebird or to keep as a rare collectors item. It never once occurred to him that there could be more to those strange hourglasses that rained from the sky like dangerous raindrops. The longer he looked at the bewitching shine of the hourglass, the more it seemed to call to him, the more he felt like it told him to use it for his scheme.

He experimented with his new little treasure the rest of the day and he got the hang of using it correctly by nightfall. The yellow bird knew by then that he could do it, that he could rewind time all the way back those many years and start over his relationship with the DJ. All that was in his way was the little hatted lass, and he had a plan on how to get rid of her.

After making a quick call to the spaceship of the little lass, he arrived back at Dead Bird Station and entered the premises with the time piece hidden in his pocket. He knew that the little girl would come for the time altering object, he had no doubt about it...but to realize his goal he also had to make sure that DJ Grooves wouldn't interfere with his plans. The Conductor was well aware that he and the hatted lass had gotten quite close over the course of making the movies she was starring in. Considering the kind-hearted nature of his rival, he'd try to safe the young child after noticing that something was off. He sent his owls down to the basement to set up his little...arena and went over to the side of disco-loving penguin. With his new abilities, it was easy enough to get past the entourage of flightless birds that usually surrounded his rival like bodyguards. He found the DJ in his dressing room, getting ready to wrap up the long day of filming.

The tall penguin turned his head in confusion after seeing a silhouette of black and yellow enter his peripheral vision. “Conductor? What are you doing here? If you just came here to start another pointless argument, then you'll have to excuse me, I'm too tired for your shenanigans.” Something about the yellow bird really irked him. He appeared less hostile...but the aura around the yellow owl gave off a sense of dread and creepiness that he couldn't quite put a flipper on.

“Donnae worry, lad. I ain't here ta argue. I'm only here ta...stop ye from interferin'.” The penguin stood up immediately after seeing his rival produce a pair of handcuffs from his suit pocket. He tried to reach for the knife that he always kept inside his red jacket, just in case something like this happened. Before he had the chance to properly grip the handle of his weapon, a strange feeling overcame him and he got frozen in place. The Conductor only gave him a smug smirk as he approached, it caused the DJ to panic and try to fight against what ever it was that kept him in place. He couldn't move a single muscle, couldn't even move his eyes which were transfixed on the face of his nemesis who stretched out a wing. He wanted to close his eyes, thinking that any moment now, the crazed owl would simply end his life...to his surprise though he only stroked his cheek. “I ain't gonna hurt ya, just gonna have ta stay outta me way fer a while.” The Conductor put the handcuffs around the flippers of the penguin and and grabbed the key to the dressing room from his pocket. “Jus' sit tight and wait fer me, aye. It won't take long.”

DJ Grooves heard a click as the door got locked and felt the strange feeling that had pinned him down leave him. “What did you do! Hey, come back here, Conductor! Let me out!” It hurt the yellow owl a bit to hear the penguin scream desperately and with an almost pleading tone the further he got away from the dressing room. The penguins would try to free their boss, now that he had the key, and even if they managed to free him, it would buy him enough time to eliminate the lassie. Speaking on the lassie, she was likely almost there, so he made his way into the deep, dark depths of the studio's basement.

As he expected, the young girl soon arrived exactly where he wanted her, where no one could interfere in his plan. He felt a bit of hesitation and guilt for what he was about to do coming up, yet he suppressed it. This was the most crucial step, the only obstacle that could come in the way of the new reality he was trying to create.

The lassie seemed surprised to see him there and demanded her time piece back. Less than a day ago, he would have gladly obliged...maybe he would have given it to her after shooting another scene, but not this time.

He drew his trusty knife from his pocket. “I'm sorry that it has come to this, lassie, but you cannae have this hourglass back. I need it more than ye ever will!” He started to attack the young space traveler who dodged all of his attacks with relative easy, he had seen her get through “Train Rush”, so it wasn't a surprise for him. What did surprise him was how easy it was to trick the lass into a 'pleasant' conversation. The disinterest and insistence was quite easily readable on her face before she even uttered the 'Nope' with which she declined his request of being allowed to keep his one time piece. “That's...too bad, lassie. A darn shame it is....” The feathers on his head lowered as he questioned his resolve one last time before using the power of the time piece to freeze time itself for a brief moment. A brief moment was all he needed, all it took to drive the knife through the heart of the child whose possessions even enabled what he was attempting to do. The look of slight irritation on her face was replaced by one of shock, as her eyes widened and looked at the yellow owl that she had thought finally started to warm up to her. The Conductor could see the face of betrayal and the mouthed 'why' on her face before the girl's eyes broke and clouded over as she slumped in her chair.

He felt AWFUL. The yellow bird tried hard to not break out in tears, and once again he stopped in his tracks, a small part of him yelled at him to rewind time, to stop himself from becoming something so heinous and despicable that no one would ever be able to forgive him. He himself couldn't. He ignored it.

Instead, he looked at the hourglass in his talons again, watched the sand trickle down slowly. He was too close to reaching his goal, too close to simply stop now.

His poor flippers really started to hurt, his loyal penguins were trying their hardest to get through the door to get him out of the dressing room his awful rival had locked him in. The penguin felt a strong sense of dread, far more so than he had ever felt in his life before. The actions of the yellow owl were so...different from normal, and not in a good way. The way he had looked at him before he simply left him was very strange, the eyes of the bird, normally rage-filled and piercing, had gazed at him with warmth and friendliness that was beyond uncanny and uncharacteristic of his Western-loving rival. The tall penguin looked relieved when his penguins finally managed to find a key to enter the room...only for everything to stop.

In this brief moment, he felt like something that was never supposed to happen, was about to happen, like Pandora's box had been opened and the world was going to sink into total chaos as a result. His penguins simply stopped in motions, neither breathing nor blinking. He stared as it was all he could do before everything turned white.

“I'm back, told ye I wouldnae be gone fer long.”

“It still took you awfully long to find a single audio file, darling.” DJ Grooves chuckled as the owl came back to him with a USB stick in his talons. He plugged it into the computer and opened the sound file that needed editing. “I can feel it, darling, this movie is going to be the blockbuster of the century!” The yellow owl nodded and started to drape his wings over his chest from behind the chair that the he was sitting on.

“I'm sure it will, with yer editin' and me story line, nothing can stop us!” He looked up and saw the ever-present sparkle in the eyes of the yellow owl, a thing that the DJ Grooves that had been lost to time itself would have found eerie and strange, the same as his upbeat and friendly behavior. The only thing even stranger was that his aversion to physical contract made a complete 180 and turned into a great need for affection, as evidenced by the owl gently preening the hair of his former rival that everyone in the other timeline had thought he hated like the plague.

“Almost done, just need to save the changes.” The owl was seemingly unable to wait a moment longer and simply sat down on the lap of the penguin, who proceeded to softly pet the other bird's head. “Affection starved, darling?” The tall bird chuckled which caused the smaller one to smile.

“For longer than ye'd know.” The owl closed his eyes, just taking in the warmth and the feeling of the soft pets he was receiving. “I love ye.” The Conductor opened his eyes again...not that the penguin could see them...

“Love you too.” If the DJ could actually see the eyes of the bird he so loved now, he would be able to see the darkness that swirled behind them, like a dark void. He was blissfully unaware of the devilish creature that had murdered a young girl for his own happiness. He was blissfully unaware of the insanity so well hidden by the beautiful, golden feathers.

Take this discount Conductor as well.

I tried really hard to write 'Happy Birthday' in Japanese. I likely failed and wrote something silly because of google translate and my inability to write your complicated language. I tried my best though XD Above that you have 'Alles Gute zum Geburtstag' Which means Happy Birthday in German.

#ahit fanfic #discotrain

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rinnelovebot · 2 years

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hi maaarch ❤️ may i request kanata with an s/o who's burned out and can't seem to get themselves out of that rut? thank you; take your time!

A/N: hi friennnnnd ❤️ wrote this with a certain someone in mind , of course

*ೃ༄ Kanata Shinkai with a burned out s/o hc’s

⤷ Kanata tries his hardest to empathize and understand how you feel, wanting to do anything in his power to help you get back in the groove. Kanata is a wise man, and he’ll offer plenty of advice in order to help, even if only a little. After all, you’re his lover — and it kills him to see you so gloomy.

⤷ If it’s physical help that you need, he’s on it pronto. Whether it be taking a share of your work, giving you a massage, or simply just reminding you to take breaks and work at your own pace — it doesn’t matter, he’ll be there. Even if all you really want is for him to hold you until you feel better, he’ll grant your wish.

⤷ He figured that no good would come out of continuing to work when your brain was so low on juice, even if he had been there to help you — so the next best thing was to have you take a break and relax with him. Lying down with you, holding you, kissing you until your face was fully covered in his love — you felt calm, at peace. Nothing could tire you out here. All you could feel was Kanata’s love, his passion, smothering the fire that was your burnt out brain.

⤷ Even if it took forever and a day, Kanata would be by your side, doing his best to help you feel better. Inspiration is hard to come by, but Kanata didn’t mind trying to help you find it. Perhaps he could be the one to inspire you? Either way, whatever it was that you were looking for, he’d be at your side, gently supporting you.

⤷ In the end, Kanata is a comforting presence to have when you feel so down in the dumps. He knows exactly how to hug, to kiss, to touch, to speak — all to make you feel better. When it comes to you, there’s no effort too great, and no task too difficult. Kanata would always do his best to uplift you — and he knew you’d do the same for him in return.

#these didn’t come out so great #buuuuut #i hope you still like them flex emoji #marchie scribbles #ensemble stars #enstars x reader #ensemble stars x reader #kanata shinkai #kanata shinkai x reader #(x swanee.)

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fe-fictions · 2 years

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I’ve been having a rough time with life and some friends stuff, could you maybe do a Chrobin fic with Robin feeling really lonely and down with maybe an argument with Chrom as a result? Soft ending with plenty of making up of course.

(I can't see Chrom and Robin arguing over it, they're both too soft ;;;;;;;;; I hope u don't mind that it's less argue and more snuggle ;;; )

It had gotten a lot more lonely since the king had become…well, king. Chrom was growing more distant, though it clearly wasn’t something he wished for.

The poor man would come to bed exhausted, late at night, long after you’d gone to sleep. It was shocking sometimes, seeing as you burned the midnight oil well into the dark mornings, but he still was getting to sleep after you, and then somehow, finding the strength to rise before you.

As the queen and chief tactician, you certainly had your hands full, but at the end of the day, your duties were over long before Chrom’s were.

And worse yet, Chrom’s duties were typically in another wing entirely from where you were at any given moment. It was exhausting, but worse yet, it was isolating. You missed your husband.

After a month of this, you had enough. The adjustment period was starting to end, and you hoped the two of you could find a new normal.

Some sort of new groove for the two of you to fall into, so that you could at least have a meal together.

You were both royals now, but for some reason, your husband was constantly kept at bay, far away from you.

So you finished up your duties that night, a little earlier through sheer force of will, and you headed straight to Chrom.

A few inquiries with maids and a wrong turn eventually led you to his office.

Doors shut tight, preferably to keep the world out. You steeled yourself, and tapped your knuckles against the door.

“...Yes?”

“Er, Chrom? It’s me.”

“Robin?”

His voice was muffled through the door, but you could hear how tired he was. You heard a shuffle in the room, a thud followed by a string of curses, but within a few moments the doors were pulled open.

Oh, Chrom.

He looked utterly exhausted.

“Come in, please.” He sounded almost desperate to bring you in. He looked so pale, and disheveled. One of the buttons on his tunic was improperly fastened, and the circlet he was supposed to have on at all times was haphazardly hung off the back of his chair.

A scatter of parchment across the floor suggested that was indeed the thud you’d heard before, but despite it all, there was still a shadow of a smile on his face.

At least he was happy to see you.

“Chrom, are you all right?” You were worried, of course. He took you into the office and shut the doors behind you, heaving a loud sigh.

“I wish I could tell you I was, but…it’s pretty obvious I’m not. Unfortunately, picking up the pieces after war, on top of a sudden coronation makes for a lot of catch-up work nobody could’ve prepared us for.”

“It has been awfully busy.” You agreed, stooping down to pick up the papers on the floor. Chrom was quick to join you, lopsided stacks in each of your arms. “And it looks like you’re behind on a lot of it, too…”

“Well, Emm’s death caused a massive ripple effect in everything related to the kingdom, all the way down to signatures and wax seals of approval. A lot of it is stuff I had to approve as the new Exalt, but then a whole typhoon of paperwork came in that had to be re-approved from Emm’s previous work. Stuff that hadn’t been processed before she…”

“I get it.” You spoke softly, a hand on his shoulder. Chrom looked up at you wistfully, clearly stretched thin. “It does explain why it’s been so hard to get ahold of you, though, doesn’t it?”

“I suppose it does…” He stood back up, the two of you tidying the stacks.

“I just don’t know what to do with all this.” Chrom looked so defeated, it didn’t sit well with you. It was worrying.

He was a pillar of strength and vitality, but he looked so defeated, and downtrodden.

“Maybe take a break from it.” You suggested, taking the papers from his hands and pulling all the documents together back where they belonged on his desk.

Chrom sank down into his seat behind the heavy old thing, a bitter laugh falling from his lips. “Believe me, if I could have, I would’ve a while ago.”

“You still can,” You mused, coming around and leaning on the desk’s edge, looking down at him. “It’s getting close to a decent hour for bed. Should we turn in early, tonight?”

“Gods, I wish I could. You have no idea how bad I want to.” He sighed again, rubbing his hands over his face. You frowned, arms crossed.

“You can. You’re the king. You’re allowed to take some time away from your paperwork to get a good night’s sleep, for once.”

“It’s true, but I don’t think it’s so simple. There’s just…too many pieces moving at the same time, and somehow I’m expected to keep everything together and under control. It’s impossible, having everybody pull at me in every direction.”

“I would say I can’t imagine, but I am in a similar station as you.”

“That’s true, isn’t it.” He sighed, his head back against the chair. His eyes were closed; as though he were moments from sleep. “I feel bad you’ve been dragged into this. To think I’d shackle you with all this desk work as payment for all you’ve done.”

“I agreed to it, didn’t I? Through good times and bad,” You reminded him with a soft smile, reaching for his hand. Chrom squeezed it tightly, while you lazily swung your arm back and forth. “We can get through this, together. But we should at least try to do it together, you know?”

“Sort of…” He peeked an eye open.

“We should try and go to sleep together, for the first time in a month.”

“Has it really been a month?” He sounded so incredulous, you couldn’t help but laugh. “But I still manage to get back to bed every night!”

“Yes, but…it’s a little different when you’re somehow getting to bed long after me, and then getting up before I have a chance to see you off.”

“Huh.” He looked sheepish, “Sorry. I didn’t think about that.”

“So how about we take an early night and get to bed? You really look like you need a good night’s sleep, love. No offense.”

“None taken.” He groaned, sitting forward. Gently, you placed yourself between him and the desk, letting him rest his head just below your chest. He sank into your touch almost instantly.

The sheer weight of him against you pressed you into the desk, but you knew he was beyond tired. He was leaning into you because he probably would’ve fallen over if you weren’t there.

“Chrom…I’m sorry you’re dealing with so much. It’s not fair that you have to struggle with all this royalty nonsense after everything you’ve been through. I wish I could take it all off your shoulders.” You murmured, stroking his hair.

His arms came loosely around you. “It is what it is. I knew it would probably happen some day. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard if I’d paid closer attention to Frederick’s etiquette and clerical lessons….”

“At least you got lessons. Poor man’s been trying to teach me and get me to do the proper work at the same time.” You grumbled, and Chrom chuckled.

“That sounds like Hell.”

“It is.”

“...I miss you.” He spoke softly, as though it wasn’t meant to be said. But you nodded, giving him a small squeeze.

“I’ve missed you, too. That’s why I came all the way over here, tonight.”

“I don’t understand why our offices are on complete opposite ends of this place. I guess Mother really did hate our father that much. I can’t blame her, but….I don’t harbor the same feelings. Why can’t we just have our desks in the same room?”

“Well, you’re the Exalt. I’m sure if you really wanted to do that, they wouldn’t be able to stop you.” You reminded him, and he paused, as though it hadn’t occurred to him.

“Do you…should we do that?”

“If you want to, I wouldn’t mind it. At least I’d get to see your face more often, you know?”

“You think Frederick will let us?”

“He’s not the Exalt, dear.”

“I guess I can overrule him, can’t I.” Chrom smiled, leaning back to look up at you. “Maybe…we ought to go to bed early. It would be nice to actually fall asleep together.”

Chrom let you pull him up from his seat, holding onto both your hands. You were close enough that your chests were touching, and that tender affection in his gaze returned beneath the exhaustion.

He was awfully happy to see you.

“I do like the idea of going to bed early…but we don’t necessarily have to sleep, yet.”

Chrom blushed.

“No?”

“I mean, it’s been a month since we’ve done anything at all, you know?”

“Yeah.” Chrom swallowed thickly, recognizing that look in your eyes. You grinned at him, tugging him along. “W-whoa, wait a second!”

“Do you really want to wait?”

“N-no, I mean- well, maybe we shouldn’t look so-”

“Come on, love.” You laughed, a bright and sweet sound. Chrom’s heart skipped a beat. It was such a lovely thing to hear.

As you rushed down the halls together, he made a mental note to push your offices together immediately.

Well, immediately tomorrow morning. Tonight, all he had on his mind was you.

Something he would do well to remember for many happy nights to come.

#chrom #robin #fe 13 #fire emblem awakening #chrobin #chrom x robin #fe-fictions #fe fictions #f!robin #fem!robin #f!mu #fluff #hurt and comfort #stress #overworked prompt #poor chrommy #i can't imagine him handling the transition from battlefield to desk well #especially with all the stuff he'd have to suddenly take on #poor baby ;;;;; ____ ;;;;

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