#I think abt this so fucking much okay. leave me alone

[starsandthorn]

yes yes arlecchino backstory sad lore interesting animation cool as hell but MOST IMPORTANTLY. signora and scara fatui coat LOOKS.

#personal stuff #delete later #okay okay but yeah it's giving sin mal vibes to me #also also don't talk to me abt the spider thing don't talk to me abt the fatui and flame chasers associations leave me alone #[thinking about it so hard at all times] #actually no hey what the fuck was that franken bat-bunny. was that dottore. #but SCARA ACTUALLY WEARING THAT BIG STUPID HOOD. #SIGNORA. QUEEN. ILY. I MISS YOU SO MUCH #okay okay okay but timeline wise this is really interesting #presumably these four were the only ones who were harbingers until arlecchino #signora and scara make sense since they were ~500-400 years ago #capitano though.......he's old as hell too we know it #makes me really interested to know when the other presumably old as fuck people were recruited. sandrone? columbina? #and also pulcinella presumably is the same race as klee and alice or something right? unless he and layla just look like elves for no reaso #but shouldn't he be super old as well? #BUT NO WAIT. DOTTORE WAS DEFINITELY AROUND BEFORE SCARA. WHERE WAS HE. #did they just. not All want to come out at once and overwhelm her. were they busy. what happened #sandrone and dottore in the middle of their respective experiments. columbina taking a nap #pulcinella was off cutting a ribbon somewhere as mayor or something #also the timing wrt arlecchino's age vs freminet's.......huh. arle was early 20s AT MOST. #wtf is the age difference between her and the trio.

[elytrafemme]

i'm starting to wonder if therapy is going to be productive because no matter what happens i'm probably going to experience this every night of my fucking life

#neg #was out with friends and having a lot of fun! cramps but it was okay i was like. good #and then one of my friends and i were talking and i tried to make a comment about how i liked hanging out w him #but he didn't hear me so he kept talking abt what we were discussing before #and like. blood ran cold i physically felt sick and almost started crying #and now i'm like. completely in the depths of devastation again. over him. i can't fucking function. #and i had all these plans to like get dinner tonight too and take care of myself and do work #but now i'm like. stuck thinking about him. and this happens so often. #there's just no fucking point anymore huh. #and we're going to hang out this weekend a lot and into this upcoming week and this next month and the next year and then 2024 and #like i can't do that. sorry. i can't fucking do that. #i'm not even angry at him anymore it's just. he makes it hurt so bad. #and it's physical pain too every night it's fucking excruciating #because the devastation is both numbing and it cuts into me like a blade in my chest blunt edged but constant pressure #i can't do this forever. i can't. #but there's never a breaking point. it never changes. it's constant. #i'll wake up tomorrow okay. like nothing ever happened. #why did he talk to me so much today why couldn't he leave me the fuck alone #it would have been easier if he didn't. how does he. he has to know this is happening right? #so why is he doing this to me?

[pepprs]

ok mutuals be honest. should i “break up” w my counselor over these texts yes or no

#purrs #i don’t have the spoons to type much let alone reply to anybody ESPECIALLY not him bc this fucking pissed me off so bad i have been too #angry to reply. like what the fuck is this. im going through a hard time right now so why are you judging me for wanting us to talk about #that instead of me doing your stupid little homework assignment. i just feel so judged by him all the time and i can’t work up the courage #to tell him or end things. but i am actually dreading talking abt this new development / topic w him anyways bc the last time we talked abt #it he judged and pushed me so hard and i got SOOOOO angry but also maybe he was right and just saying thigns i didn’t want to hear and then #his supervisor got sick and he said he had this plan for us to do the erikson thing and we’ve barely started it and i feel so bad bc i #genuinely think it could work but i just don’t mesh well with him. but it’s like i should give it a try and stick it out bc there’s only a f #few months left and what if things get better. and also ihavent given him any indication of how unhappy ive been w him as my counselor and i #don’t want to spring it on him out of nowhere. but no we’ve been working together since October and i don’t feel seen or supported by him at #all an di know i have to leave bc i deserve better but things are so bad rn and my brain has been broken all weekend and i just don’t have t #the strength and idk what to reply or if i should but i think everyone is probably gonna say i need to leave him and i think you’d be right. #delete later #i truly do not have the mental capacity to rn but if u go thru my other purrs posts i talk abt some of the shit he’s done that has just been #building and building and i know i need to do smth about it bc it’s not okay. but im so scared.

[muniimyg]

1: the confession // series m.list

note: been daydreaming abt this jk... enj <3

taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “aao” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main @ellesalazar @jkslvsnella @thekookiecorner @parkinglot-nights @seagulljk

fic taglist: @peterstarkchrishiddleston

//

The library is your favourite place. 

At least, that is until your predictable love for it comes to a disadvantage. May your tranquil moments alone rest in peace as your friends corner and gaslight you to leaving your sanctuary. Sometimes, it’s for parties. Other times, it’s for something stupid like driving to the next town to watch a movie at their theatre because their theatre chairs recline better. 

You won’t have it this time. 

No way. You have so much work to do!

"Oh, come on! Please, ___?” Hobi begs. “Come tonight! It'll be fun!" Suddenly, he’s clinging to your arm, making it harder for you to ignore him. You try shaking him off, but he pouts at you and clings on even tighter. 

“Hobi,” you whine. “Go to the party if you wanna go. Jimin said he’d meet you there! And Nam Joon, and Taehyung, Jin, and even Yoongi!” 

“But I want you to come!” He cries. “I need someone to keep count of my drinks—”

“Use a marker and tally it on your arm.”

“But then what if I need to throw up—”

“Then throw up.”

“... Jungkook will be there!”

You blink at him. 

“So?”

Hobi lets go of your arm and raises a brow at you. “What do you mean so? Isn't he your boyfriend?”

His accusation has you tongue-tied. This is the first time you’ve ever heard such an absurd thing! Jungkook became a part of the friendgroup after you. He’s the newbie. Actually, he has a whole other set of friends aside from you guys. Why? Because he’s cool. That’s it. Everyone on campus knows him and truth be told; he deserves his hype. He’s good-looking, kind, and a little weird (in a good way). He’s funny and smart (but not in an obnoxious way)... He’s just… Kind of good at everything? It intimidates you and often leaves you daydreaming. 

Come to think of it, everything happens by coincidence. Yours and his lectures usually start and end around the same time. Not to mention that he also loves the library! He usually walks you home after your study sessions. But, yeah… Aside from these things—you and Jungkook aren’t actually that close.

“W-what? I’m not dating Jungkook! Doesn’t he have a girlfriend?” you ask, careful not to sound too noisy. 

Hobi shakes his head. “Girlfriend? Yeah… You.”

Your eyes widen.

In a panic, you hiss at Hobi. “Don’t start rumours! That’s embarrassing for him to be associated with me—”

“Oh shut up,” Hobi laughs. “Do not get all insecure and pick me when the campus crush has literally been drooling over the past few weeks. Everybody knows. Everybody talks about it! Besides, they talk about him being all lovestruck—not you! So, spill it. What did you do, huh? Did you manifest it or some shit—”

“With all the time I spend in class, work, and the library… You think I have time to manifest?” you chuckle at him, ultimately trying to dismiss his suspicion. 

Hobi rolls his eyes at you. 

“For someone who reads fanfics and book loads of romance stories… You’re dense as fuck.”

Tilting your head at him, you try to find the words to defend yourself and fail. 

He’s right. 

You are dense. 

But that never hurt anyone before… So why does it matter?

“Earth to ___?” Hobi waves his hands to your face. You blink, brushing your thoughts away. Offering him a tired smile, he looks at you weirdly. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you exhale. “Why?”

“You’re blushing like crazy,” he teases, poking your cheek. Your hands fly to your cheeks. He’s right. They feel warm and the sudden embarrassment just made you feel even more flustered. Then, he nudges you. 

“Get it together!” Hobi mutters, “Your boyfriend is coming!"

Turning your head, you see Jungkook making his way through the doors. He has his backpack on one shoulder and his eyes glued to his phone. Like muscle memory, he turns his heels and walks toward your direction. 

“Oh my god,” you hit Hobi’s arm. “Why did you plant these thoughts when he’s literally—”

“Plant thoughts? Babes, it’s reality. Helllooooo?” Hobi sings, tauntingly. 

You pout at him, unable to take this lighthearted. 

Then, before you know it, Jungkook approaches you. 

He pulls the seat next to you out and settles in. After offering a fist bump to Hobi, he quickly leans his body over and places his hand on your knee. He’s always done this but why was it suddenly so different now? Was it always like this and you never noticed until now? Until Hobi…

Wow… 

“Hey, you.” Jungkook greets you warmly.

“... H-hi.”

He gives you a weird look. You avoid his eyes in return. Clearing his throat, he asks, “Why aren’t you packed up yet? Aren't we going to the party?”

Jungkook eyes your spread of notes on the table. You clunch your iPad closer to you and shrug. “We? It’s you. Aren’t you going to the party?”

Jungkook returns your question with a grin. “No. Us. You, specifically. You, especially.”

“Yeah, ___!” Hobi chimes cheekily. “Aren’t you going to the party?”

Hesitantly, you shake your head. 

“N-no… I have too much work to do. Here! I’ll just—” you pause your sentence and reach for Hobi’s arm. Pushing his sleeve up, you take the sharpie from your pencil case and write on his arm. 

If piss drunk, please return to ___. 

(xxx) xxx-xxxx <3

Hobi reads it sideways and yanks his arm back. 

“I hate you,” he utters. With laser eyes, he glares at Jungkook. “Tell her you’re coming to the party. Drag her to come! She’s always here! Homework can wait for tomorrow!”

Jungkook exchanges looks with you. With a soft gaze, he shrugs and turns to Hobi. 

“She doesn’t wanna go.”

Hobi groans. 

“Fine. Let’s go. Let’s leave—”

“I’m staying,” Jungkook says calmly. "She's not going... Neither am I."

He picks his backpack up from the ground and begins to unzip it. Taking out his notes and laptop, he looks up and smiles at Hobi. “Can I see your arm?”

Huffing, Hobi shows Jungkook your note. As Hobi rambles on and on about how you and Jungkook are party poopers, Jungkook takes your Sharpie and crosses your number out. 

If piss drunk, please return to ___. Jungkook

(xxx) xxx-xxxx <3

(xxx) xxx-xxxx

For the second time tonight, Hobi reads his arm sideways and yanks it back. He squints at the unfamiliar number. 

“Why’d you cross her number out? Whose number is this?” Hobi asks. 

“Mine,” Jungkook states, smiling at the correction. “Call me if you need anything.”

“What? Why?”

Jungkook blinks. “I’m not really crazy about ___’s number being on your arm for other guys to have and call her with.”

Hobi’s mouth drops. He slowly turns to you and gulps. Blinking at you slowly, he gives you crazy eyes. “You can not be this dense, ___. Jungkook is literally ripping me into shreds in his head right now—”

You laugh.

“Go. Have fun! Call me if you need anything.”

Hobi turns to Jungkook. 

Jungkook smiles at him sweetly with his eyes closed. He shakes his head slowly and wiggles his finger at him. “Don’t call her.”

With that, Hobi grumbles a few exchanges before packing his stuff up. He waves goodbye and tells you that you’re lame one last time. You agree with him and wave him goodbye. As he leaves, Jungkook moves his chair closer to you. 

“So… Same schedule? Study until 9PM and then I walk you home? Or are you hungry tonight? Maybe we can wrap this up by 7:30PM and grab a bite to eat? I know a really good burger spot just up campus—why’d you do that?”

Your body stiffens.

“Do what?”

Jungkook eyes your chair distance. 

“You moved away.”

What the heck… How did he even notice? It’s not like you moved across the table! You just moved like… Half an inch. 

“No, I didn’t,” you deny. “But yeah… Sure! I’ve been craving a good burger with extra cheese—what are you doing?”

“I’m moving closer to you.”

“Why?”

“Because you lied to my face and moved away.”

“N-no!” 

Jungkook inches his face closer to yours. He boops your nose and scrunches his. “You sniff whenever you lie. Did you know that?”

“N-no…”

“Now you do.”

For the first time ever… You lose your breath. It’s like you forgot how to breathe. He’s so close to you. His eyes are so doey, you’re literally getting lost in them. The scar he has on his left cheek… You can see it so clearly—the detail of how his skin healed and all. His hair is brushing above his eyebrows and you can’t help but realize how much you like the way it falls on his face. He’s… Cute?

Oh god. 

“D-dont do that—uhh—” You move away from him. This time, there’s an obvious space between you two. Jungkook straightens his posture, completely confused by your burst of emotion. It’s… Conflicting? He swears you two were about to kiss… Now, what’s going on?

“___? What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks with a gentle tone. 

You turn away and shove your notes to your face. Mumbling into the paper, you tell him what’s on your mind. “Everyone thinks you have a crush on me and it’s embarrassing.”

Jungkook doesn’t hear you well. 

“Say that again,” he requests. Without warning, he takes the paper from your hands, leaving you to face him. “Don’t act all cute. What is it?”

You stay silent and contemplate.

Was this worth saying? Was this worth addressing? Would it change anything between you two after? What about the burgers? You’ve been craving a cheesy burger like crazy—

“It’s fine if you don’t feel comfortable. You can tell me later or never. I don’t mean to be pushy—”

Then, you blurt it out. 

“Everyone thinks you have a crush on me… Or something.” 

Jungkook doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t hold his breath. 

He doesn’t deny it. 

“I do have a crush on you.”

Your throat feels dry. What?! Has he lost his mind?

“W-what? You can’t j-just—”

Jungkook tilts his head and pouts. 

“I don’t really understand why I should deny it. Why should I lie? Why should I make an excuse? This is how I feel. You just found out earlier than the confession… I guess this is it though, right?” He laughs. 

You hit his chest. 

“This isn’t funny!”

“Why can’t it be funny?” Jungkook laughs even harder. He catches your wrist and holds you still. “Doesn’t it make you laugh? That everybody on campus watched me wait outside your classes every day for almost 3 months… That everybody waits on me to go to parties but I don’t show up because I rather walk you home and stay home… That everybody on campus watched me enter this goddamn library of a snoozefest—”

“Hey! I like it here.”

“Yeah,” he rolls his eyes at you. “I like you. That’s why I’m here.”

“I… I thought you wanted to study.”

Jungkook laughs even louder, earning a few hushes from others nearby. He groans, throwing his head back. “I can’t even fucking laugh in here without getting in trouble. Why the hell would I like this place?”

“... To study!”

“To be with you.” 

You shut up. 

No words, no thoughts, no feelings. 

Okay…

Feelings. Lots of them. 

“I don’t understand why you’re so overwhelmed,” Jungkook murmurs, leaning his head against your shoulders. “I thought you knew. I thought you figured it out by now. I wasn't exactly discrete."

You sit still, not knowing if you should move or let him settle in. Before you can decide, he sits himself up and grabs your hand. He squeezes it tightly and brings it to his lips. Kissing your hand, he looks at you. 

“Doesn’t matter if you’re dense. Doesn’t matter if you don’t know how you feel right now. I’ll win you over… You’ll fold."

You yank your hand away from him. In response, he leans over and kisses the side of your head instead. You gasp, but your cheeks blush. Quickly, you cover your face with your hands. He laughs heartily, tugging you close to him. You bury your face in his chest and groan at the sinking feeling of wanting to be anywhere but here. This was humiliating!

And just when you think it can't get any worse, Jungkook wraps his arms around you and hugs you tight. As he pats your back, he murmurs—

"You're falling for me already, aren't you?"

#bts fluff #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenario #jungkook x yn #jungkook uni au #jungkook fanfic #jungkook one shot #jungkook drabble series #bts scenario #bts fanfic #bts imagine #bts x yn

[scarletlizzard]

thinking abt older sisters bsf! nat 🤭

your sister being wanda, and nat is obviously her best friend. wanda is always protective with you but since you both grew up with nat she could easily slip through the gaps.

her and wanda would always come home as a pair when they did, you chose to live with your parents while you attendees a smaller local college.

the first time natasha fucked you she snuck off away from wanda while she was sleeping, she’d find you still awake probably studying. she begged you to stop for a bit and come hangout with her.

you two would be cuddled up in your bed watching something, her hand would slowly roam your body.

you’d share a small kiss that would lead to her fucking you into your mattress. 🤭🤭🤭

every time wanda and your parents would go out to do something, natasha would make up some excuse not to go and she’d stay and fuck you the whole time they were gone.

ugh i love this so much 😵‍💫😵‍💫

Oh okay so this is what we're rocking with today? Cause yeah anon, you've hooked me!! 😌😳

A few thoughts on that if I may ✍️

The first time she snuck in your room, she convinced you to watch a movie with her. It started out innocently at first. After all, this was something you would regularly do, but usually not with just the two of you. As you watched the screen, her hand rested on your thigh, caressing the skin. It would inch up closer, painfully slow, and you couldn't deny the ache in your lower stomach building. Your thighs pressed together tightly.

"What's the matter sweetheart?"

With a smirk on her lips, forcing you to tell her how bad you needed her. How you wanted her to make you feel good. She kissed you softly at first, savoring the way your lips tasted, wanting to relish the feeling of your first kiss. Natasha would waste no time after that, knowing at any moment the two of you could be caught.

"You're taking me so well, fuck, this pussy was made for me."

"Shh, sweetheart, you have to be quiet. Don't want to wake anybody up, do you?"

"I know you love it.. the idea that someone could walk in right now and see you being fucked like a slut."

"That's it, baby, that's it. Give me everything. Shh, just one more, one more time."

The two of you spent the night tangled in your sheets, Natasha drawing out orgasm after orgasm from you. She left you a whining, whimpering mess, to the point you couldn't even speak.

She cuddled you until you fell asleep, but when you awoke, she was gone. You went slowly down the stairs, seeing your sister and her best friend eating breakfast at the table. You sat next to Wanda, trying to act as if nothing had happened.

After that night, she spent every minute she could in your presence, coming up with every excuse she could think of to stay home with you. The second the car rolled out of the driveway, she would be on top of you, her hands slipping into your panties wherever you were. She would fuck you for as long as she could whether it be ten minutes or two hours.

One evening, she had you on the couch, enjoying the squirming mess that you were underneath her. Your moans filled the room, along with the sinful sounds of her fucking you.

"That's it pretty girl, just like that. Let me hear those pretty moans."

Because any time you were alone, she wanted to hear those broken cries of pleasure, your name leaving your soft pink lips. But as you moaned her name, the familiar sound of the front door unlocking sent a shock of panic through your both your minds.

The two of you tried to part as quickly as possible, but as Wanda walked in, she could see what she had interrupted. The bag she held dropped, and anger was written on her face as she took in the sight before her: the two of you panting, breathlessly. Natasha was still pulling her shirt over her head while you attempted to put on your sweatpants. Both of you had red and puffy lips. A purple bruise was still fresh on your neck, and your hair was wild.

Wanda looked to you and the to Natasha, her fists clenching at her side as she stepped further into the living room.

"What the fu-"

#scarletlizzard asks #um yeah anon #thanks for putting this in my head #way to go #luv u tho !!! #<3333 #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha blurb #marvel blurb

[luveline]

jadey baby i love roan smmmm , pls pls pls write something where r steps in when eddie forgets to mention muffins for moms day at school , she still shows up & ed being worried abt roan also shows up thinking no one would be there but R ALREADY IS SO HE JOINS

thank you for your request lovely! i changed it a little but I hope you still enjoy! eddie and roan —formerly single dad!eddie forgets to tell you about your (not quite) step-daughter’s mommy event, but you pull through.

Eddie is so dead. He's so dead. You're gonna kill him, and then Roan's heartbreak is gonna kill him, and then Wayne might kill him too (though Wayne might laugh at him, actually). 

Fuck, he's a shit dad. 

Okay, he's not a shit dad, and he can fix it. 

He's literally elbow deep in an engine when he realises what day it is today. He's had the flyer on the dashboard of his car for three weeks, every day meaning to bring it in to show you and everyday forgetting. He doesn't even stop to think about why he might not have seen the flyer yesterday night or this morning, yanking his hands out of the engine and shoving the greased torque wrench into Leonard's chest. 

Wayne lifts his head from a welding job, mask in place, shouting to be heard over the noise of the shop, "Where's the fire?" 

"It's Muffins with Moms," Eddie says, "and I forgot to tell Y/N and I've never missed one before." 

"Do you have muffins?" Wayne asks. 

"Um, no, but I can get through without it, right?" he asks in a rush, digging for his keys in the fishbowl. "They feel sorry for me because I'm a single dad." 

"You're not a single dad." 

"But I was!" he yells as he sprints out of the shop. The car ride is a blur (but he's not a bitch so he doesn't speed), and he barely has time to wipe himself down with a rag and some spit before he's jogging up to the elementary school. 

It's quiet in the reception where he signs in and the hallway down to Roan's classroom, so he can hear the excitement a mile away. He feels disgustingly sorry for himself but a thousand times worse for his girl, imagining her sitting all by herself as the other kids eat cake with their moms. 

The door is open. No one notices him when he comes in, everyone's having too much fun. He scans for Roan with his heart in her throat, expecting her sat at a table in the corner by herself, an uneaten cupcake in front of her and God, he's breaking his own heart— 

He doesn't find her alone, because she's standing off to one side with you. 

You pour juice into a cup for her and then yourself before putting it down. Roan raises her plastic cup, her smile a million watts, yours not far behind as you pick up your own cup and tap them together. 

"Cheers," you say happily. 

Roan presses her lips together. If Eddie were closer, he'd be able to hear the humming noise she makes when she's ecstatic. He's felt it a hundred times, sitting chest to chest with her on the couch, outside of the movies and at the carnival. Anywhere she feels loved. 

"These are amazing," Stacey P’s mom says, a cupcake in her hands. 

"Oh," you say, "thanks so much." 

"I need the recipe,” agrees Stacy K’s. 

"Sure, sure," you say. You turn to Roan, and the two of you try not to laugh. 

You're no cupcake connoisseur, Eddie can guess exactly what convenience store they came from.

He doesn't need to be there, and he doesn't want to make a spectacle, so he leaves with his head ducked and a huge thrumming feeling in his heart before you can see him, the kind of love that can't be tamped down for anything. He rubs his fist into his hand. 

He heads back to the shop and an hour later you call him, demarcated by a, "Call for baby Munson!" 

"Hello?" he asks, pinning the phone between his shoulder and his ear. 

"Hi, handsome, it's only me. I'm just making sure you know you're not picking Roan up today, 'cos it was that coffee morning thingy at school, you know the one?" You sound like you're just raring to tell him what exact coffee morning it was. He indulges you. 

"Moms and muffins?" he asks. 

"Moms and muffins!" you shout under your breath, adding a roaring sound like there's a crowd backing you up. "I'm a mom and we ate so many muffins, it's sickening. And– I'll tell you when you get home." 

"No, tell me now," Eddie says. 

"You should have seen her face," you say, your excitement melding to a tender love. "I don't think she wanted to believe I was coming just in case I didn't. But she looked like she was going to cry the second I walked in, and she hugged me for ten minutes. I had to carry her to a chair. Eddie," —you must be smiling on the other side, he can hear it— "I love doing mom stuff. I love– I love her." 

Eddie wipes his forehead, grinning with you. "Thank you, sweetheart. For everything. I'm fucking stoked, seriously." 

“She really didn’t know what to do with me at first, almost like she loved me but she didn't know me? She hasn’t ever been that shy with me, when we first met she was my clinger, right? We were fast friends. So it was really weird for me, to have her be like that, and she’s not the only kid without a mom in her class but I think everyone just felt so–? Like, I don't know, they had a small presentation at the front with the kids and they didn’t even ask her to get up, which was good, because she really shut down on me.”

“She’s done it before,” he says. 

“Yeah?”

“Her tantrums weren’t always so loud,” he says. He’d explain it to you if it felt pressing, but he can tell you the rest tonight. The gist of it is that before Roan learned to yell, she’d worry Eddie by becoming almost despondent in overwhelming situations. “Baby, I really, actually think she was that happy she just didn't know what to do with herself.”

Your breathing sounds loud in the receiver, but it isn’t upset. “I think so too. I tried, um, our strategy? Asking her what was wrong, what we could do to feel better, but it wasn’t really working, so I stole your thing. Sorry! But it worked.”

“My thing?”

“You know, when she’s had a big meltdown and she’s not getting her way, and you just talk to her about her.”

That makes it easier to picture. Eddie will sit Roan in his lap, his daughter heavy like dead weight when she’s not feeling good, and he’ll tell her anything as long as it’s about her. Like, when you were a baby, you had this thing called colic, which means you would cry and cry for hours and there was nothing grown ups could do, and the only thing that made it better was if I blew cold air in your ear really soft, like this. 

Eddie can see it, Roan slouched in your lap with her arms around you, your hand covering the back of her head from everything as you told her some story of her life. You must have hundreds by now, things she doesn’t fully remember anymore. One time you saw me in the store and ditched your dad to say hello. One time you hid my shoes behind your back so I couldn’t go home. One time you got up on the kitchen table and made me sing Rockerfeller with you, and when your dad joined in you threw a Capri-Sun at him. 

“What did you tell her?” he asks. 

“I told her about the day we met.”

Eddie licks his lips, nodding, wondering if he should cry. If he hadn't proposed already, this would be a good shove in that direction. “Second luckiest day of my life.”

“She liked the story. She asked me if she really went on our first date. So I'll be honest, I got super cheesy and told her I wouldn't change a thing.”

“So you lied to her?” He laughs. “You wouldn’t make me a lean, mean, money machine?”

“I wouldn’t change a thing,” you reaffirm happily. 

“How’d you even know about Muffins and Moms? I never showed you the flyer, forgot all about it." 

“I saw it when I was looking for my prescription in your glove compartment.”

He’s half-expecting you to ask, Why? Was I not supposed to go? All panicked and worried you've overstepped. He knows he’s doing something right when you don’t.

“I meant to mention it but you were so tired I forgot,” you continue. “Maybe we’ll get takeout and nap when you come home?”

“Sounds nice.” Eddie’s about to sign off. “Wait, you’re home already?”

“Yeah, they let us take the kids home early too.”

“Ro’s with you? Where is she?”

“She’s already at the napping part, right here in my lap. Want me to wake her up?”

Eddie smiles. “No, don’t wake her up. Just give her a kiss for me. I’ll be home in a half hour, tops.”

#eddie and roan #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie munson x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4

[beowlet]

Hello I SAW THE OPEN REQUESTS AND I SCROLLED UP SO FAST!! I love your work sm, you really captured the essence of the characters + talking abt the love languages was a fun bonus too. Is it fine if I request the Housewardens (or some of them) with a reader who loves to send them letters?💌 But their handwriting is very unintelligible due to it being a chicken scratch/the most extra cursive you could ever see. Either way works, thank you!! ❤️

[Omg i love this]

HOUSEWARDENS WITH A S/O WHO LOVES TO SEND THEM LETTERS, BUT THEIR HANDWRITING IS HARD TO READ.

Headcanons

Cw: Uses of you instead of pronouns, fluff, GN!Reader, NOT proofread. Again.

R. Rosehearts

I feel like Riddle's hand writing is cursive too and wouldn't have too much trouble reading it even if it was a little extra so we'll go with chicken scratch handwriting for him.

He loves that you write letters for him, he really does. He always tries to send one of his own too! But he would love it more if he could actually understand what you were saying.

He can only make out two words, his name and "love". He always writes back in hopes of having understood the letter correctly. Because if he read something wrong and you pointed it out he will die of embarrassment.

HES TRYING

LEAVE HIM ALONE OKAY

He will slowly get used to it and become a [name] translator. He would be so proud too, he finally understands your handwriting and can ACTUALLY read your heartfelt letters.

He blushes and giggles like a highschool girl all the time.

Anytime anyone has trouble reading your hand writing they will go to him. Mostly Ace and Deuce after they ask for your notes.

Wishes your handwriting was a little bit more readable, but he's happy he got the hand of it now.

L. Kingscholar

Definetly knows how to read cursive but will pull a "wtf" face at all the extra shit you put because what is this. Is this even english anymore?? He can't tell if thats an "R" "M" or "N"?? What the fuck did you write?-

Look, he appericiates the letters. But try not to make him think hes having a stroke while reading it. Please. What is this? Why? Is there anyone in the world that can read curaive like this???

Will out right just text you.

Will feel bad after he finds out it was just a letter where you were talking about how much you loved him, expect him to buy you a buqoet of your favorite flowers soon.

He feels bad.

Will soon probably understand some of your letters and thank you in text form.

You thought he would write back? Oh honey no. This man is too lazy to get up on his ass and sit down on his desk to write. He might make Ruggie do it for him tho.

However if you were mad at him thats a different story. He might write a letter... along with a few more gifts... maybe...

Anything for you to forgive him.

A. Ashengrotto

Ik this man has so fucking extra cursive writing like how and why. Why do you need that many loops for one letter IT DOESNT LOOK PRETTY IT LOOKS CURSED AZUL.

I'm kidding it def looks pretty... so for Azul we're going with chicken scratch!

He would be so confused if he saw a letter just hanging around in his office, and it's a letter that he cant even read. He'll just be confused standing in his office trying to read it. Not even realising that you signed it, he was still trying to read the first word.

After a while he just gave up and called for Floyd, knowing his handwriting wasn't any better and assumed he could read it.

"Dear, Azul. I know I don't have to write a letter because I can literally just text you but I thought it would be fun to write a letter where I explained how much I lo-" "NO OKAY GIVE ME THAT BACK-"

Floyd is telling Jade so they can both bully Azul for being so stupid and not being able to read his own lover's hand writing.

He wants to know what it says so he can write back a letter... but he doesn't know anyone that would be able to read it without teasing him.

Spends a night trying to read it and writes back a letter.

Is about to sob when you send him another one, HE LOVES YOU BUT HE CAN'T READ YOUR LETTERS SPARE HIM PLEASE.

K. Al-asim

He would love the idea of sending eachother letters! He thinks its romantic and even if it's a little silly you write to eachother even though you could visit eachother any time of the day he doesn't care. It's cute. Very.

I don't think he can read cursive... he knows he has to learn but he's struggling. A lot.

I also don't think Kalim has very neat or very chaotic handwriting that nobody can read it but I think it can definetly get a little messy in his notebooks sometimes. So, cursive with extra stuff for Kalim!

He would explode with happines when he finds a love letter sitting on his desk with your name on it. He's over the moon.

As soon as he sees it he runs over, picks it up and opens it to read it. Only to be met with a page full of loops. A lot of them... an awful lot that Kalim thought you just scribbled the page for a momment.

First he's determined to read what you've wrote without asking for any help from Jamil!

Yeah that lasts like 15 minutes he goes to Jamil a little quicker than he would like to.

He tried! That's what matters... right?

Jamil spends about 15 minutes trying to read the first few sentences before FINALLY understanding the letters and reading it to Kalim. Kalim just sits there with a love-struck stupidly cute smile as he listens to Jamil readint the letter.

Is definetly writing back a reponse and making this a thing between you two.

Jamil has to suffer through your sappy letters as Kalim makes him read all of them.

Help my boy he isn't exactly happy.

V. Schoenheit

He can read really any handwriting perfectly no matter how extra or "awful" it is. But if it's just a page filled with random lines and so called letters mixed together I'm very sure he'll pull a "wtf" face :D Chicken scratch for Vil!!

He appericiates the thought! He really does! He's increidbly happy to recieve a letter from you! But why. Why does your handwriting have to be this way? Why like just why?

Do you need help? He can definetly give you writing lessons on how to improve your handwriting. He can pay for it if you think it would be embarrassing to do it with him, he can find online course-

He would think all of this but never mention any of it. He doesn't wanna break your heart.

But I think he'd def have a lot of fun trying to read your handwriting when he's bored. He would sit down and try to figure out what was written like it was some sort of puzzle and would just smile happily everytime he got a full sentence.

He would give you a kiss for every love letter he recieves <33

Would he write back? Not all the time but would write once in a while about how deep his feelings are for you.

M. Draconia

Homeboy here has been alive for a bit over a hundred years I think he's capable of reading many different types of handwriting. But imagine his shock when he finds a one he actually can't read.

Malleus is a little old compared to humans we all know that, this man has seen lots of different types of handwriting but he's definetly used to different types of and extra cursive handwritings. So we'll go for chicken scratch for him!

I feel like he'd be the first one to ever send a letter in your relationship honestly! When he recieves back a letter our fae boy is smiling happily as he excitedly opens the letter only to pause and... try to read whatever language that is.

Will go to Lilia. Like, immediately. He is definetly going to make fun of you after that. No way Lilia is letting something like that slide especially when Malleus came to him all confused.

Nobody can tell me Lilia isn't used to terrible handwritings and can just zoom through what seems like gibberish.

Malleus will listen as Lilia reads the letter for him and he can just feel himself falling deeper and deeper for you.

He wants to see you afterwards immediatelly. He is now clingy, wants hugs, kisses and every kind of physical affection you can give him.

So what if he teleported to your dorm and is currently towering over your bed? Give him the love he deserves!

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland housewardens #twst housewardens x reader #Riddle rosehearts x reader #Riddle x reader #Riddle twst #Leona Kingscholar x reader #Leona x reader #Leona twst #Azul ashengrotto x reader #Azul x reader #Azul twst #kalim al asim x reader #Kalim x reader #Kalim al asim twst #vil schoenheit x reader #Vil x reader #Vil twst #Malleus Draconia x reader #Malleus x reader #Malleus twst #x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #ʚ♡ɞ＿ ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 ₊˚⊹.Beo headcanons #ʚ♡ɞ＿ ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 ₊˚⊹.Beo writes

[roadkillremi]

HEY!! i have rq!! would u be willing to write abt poly! ghostface (if u dont write for that then do stu) summoning a succubus reader (fem pls!!) to help with the killings or them doing the ritual out of boredom while drunk/high??? PLS AND TY!!

Omg! Yes!!!!! I did some quick research and i hope you like it!!

(if you don't know what a succubus is, think of Jennifer's body. )

Searching

Poly!Billy and Stu x F!Succubus!Reader

MasterList

Summary : the ask above

Warning : MINORS DNI! "Demon ritual", mentions killing, underaged drinking, smut, p in V, unprotected, voyeurism, anal, creampie. characters are 18+

It was another night for Billy and Stu. They spent hours talking about girls and watching TV. They've both drunk any beer they could get their hands on. Stu was laughing at the TV even when it wasn't funny. Billy stared off into the distance as if he was distracted.

"Stu."

"hmm?" He glanced over wide eyed at Billy. Billy leaned forward putting his elbows on his knees.

"I saw this movie... Def by temptation..".

"here we go!" Stu laughed. Billy glared, "Have you heard of a succubus?". Stu shrugged, "Uh the demon girl? Like Lilith with Adam and eve??". Billy went silent, "My mom randomly takes the family to church okay?" Stu took a sip of his beer.

"Yeah okay. What if we tried to summon one?". Stu busted out laughing, "like that'd work!".

"Oh c'mon.. you're not scared..are ya?" Billy teased. Stu knitted his eyebrows, "No.". Billy smiled, "Where's your computer?".

"My dad's office." Stu said looking back at the tv. Billy stood up walking towards his dad's office. Stu looked over and jumped off the couch following him.

"So, we're actually doing this?" Stu asked. Billy kept walking opening the door to the office.

"Yes, Stu." Billy turned the computer on and sat in the office chair. Stu sighed leaning on the desk, "We gotta make this quick or my folks will be pissed about the computer bill.".

"calm down, Stuart." Billy grumbled as his typed quickly. Billy's eyes went wide, "Get chalk and five candles.". Billy signed off the internet and started writing on paper. Stu just stared, "Go!" Billy rushed. Stu left leaving Billy in the office alone.

Once Stu came back with what Billy asked , Billy had a pile of pillows in Stus room.

"What's this for?"

"Her.. it.." Billy took the chalk and drew a pentagram.

"light the candles." Billy muttered, Stu nodded lighting the candles. Billy placed them on the sides of the Pentagram. He then flipped up his hunting blade from his pocket. He sliced down his palm letting his blood hit the paper.

"Stu you gotta do it." Billy pushed the knife towards him. Stu sighed and cut his palm, "she better be hot.". Stu let his blood drip onto the paper.

"what now?" Stu asked looking at the paper.

"take off your clothes." Billy said as he took of his shirt. Stu smiled, "If you wanted to see me naked you could've just asked.". Billy rolled his eyes, he left his boxers on and sat down. Stu sat beside him and waited.

"So..." Stu whispered.

"shut up and relax dipshit." Billy mumbled. Stu nodded and tried to relax his body. Once the boys were fully relaxed the paper lit on fire turning into ashes. Stus eyes widen, "Did you..?" .

"No.." he whispered.

"Of course he didn't I did." You said softly. The boys jumped looking behind them. You smiled, you wore a small piece of black cloth covering your private bits.

"No fucking way..." Stu whispered. You smirked as you walked around his room.

"Was that beer laced?" Billy Whispered.

"I don't think so." Stu responded. You looked at them, "Billy.." you pointed at Billy.

"and Stu.. right?" You then pointed at Stu. The boys nodded, you grinned.

"So.. you boys are known as what the mortals call.. "Ghostface"?".

"How'd.. how'd you know?" Stu blurted. Billy elbowed him, you smiled and sat Infront of them.

"oh sweetie... I know everything.." you gently cup Stus face. Your fingers trail from his cheek to his chin. You smile and then look at Billy.

"Mm. You two don't know much about succubi do you?" You asked softly. They both shook their head.

"Well.. we live off of semen.. and in order for me to protect you we.. bond one might say." You got up again to study Stus room.

"then I'll help kill Sydney." You glance back at them. Stu nodded quickly, Billy just stared.

"How can we trust you?" He asked. You smiled walking towards him, you grabbed his chin making him look up at you.

"Oh Billy.. poor sweet Billy. It wasn't fair was it?... What they did to you. You were only 16 when you found out..". Billy didn't respond, you sat on your knees Infront of him leaning close.

"I won't abandon you.. all you gotta do is call.. and im there." You smile. Billy's eyes soften, "What if you're not?". You tilted your head, "I need you to survive.. both of you. What I need only.. you two can give me..". Billy smirked, "You have dark.. desires.." you whispered. You glanced at Stu, "And you.. you wanna.. be rough.. in way girls don't like.".

"So. The deal is I need semen to keep living. And you have that... Both of you. And i will help with your...chores.". You smile. The boys are silent, "Oh right. Both of you like being dominant.". You leaned back, "Don't be afraid.. I only bite if you want me to..".

Stu was the first to make a move, he leaned forward kissing you. You smiled and kissed him back, he slowly crawled on top of you. You laid back in the pile of pillows, he ran his hands all over your body. You glanced over at Billy who watched intensely.

"I think your friend likes watching you..." You whispered to Stu. He looked over at Billy and then smiled. He went back to kissing you and then your neck. Your head stayed to the side to watch Billy. He tilted his head slightly and leaned close to you.

"What exactly are you?.." Billy whispered. You smiled, "I'm the spawn of Satan herself.". Billy smirked and kissed you. Stu sat up looking down at you, "You're so.. sexy..". Billy also smiled down at you, he then leaned into Stu giving him a kiss. Stus hands slid up your body pushing the fabric up. The two boys stared down in amazement.

"What? I know you two aren't virgins." You smiled. Stus mouth was open slightly as he observed your body. Billy smirked and gently touched your thigh. You smiled as you felt the cold blade bump into your thigh. Billy balanced this blade away from you and watched Stu. Stus fingers slid through your folds.

"Whoa.." he took his fingers out showing how shiny they were. Billy smiled before sucking on Stus fingers. Stu laughed softly, you leaned on your elbows observing them. Billy looked over at you, "Can we tie you up?". You raised your eyebrow, "You can tie my wrists." You offered. He nodded grabbing something to tie them with. He went behind you tying your wrists together. He smiled to himself observing you.

"This is.. unreal.." he whispered. You smiled at him, "Well I'm real so get used to it.". Stu quickly shoved his member in you without warning. Your body jolted and you let out a moan.

"She so fucking wet." Stu moaned out. Billy smirked watching Stu push your thighs close to your head. He held onto them for support as he thrust himself. Billy made you look up at him, "Do you like him fucking you?". You smiled, "Mhm.. best sex I've had in years..".

"oh just you wait.." Billy leaned down to kiss you. Stu continued to pound himself into you abusing your pussy. His head hung low, "Shit!" He shouted. Billy looked over at him, "What?".

"I'm gonna come.. already.." he breathed heavily. You smiled, "Come inside me, baby.. I need you too so bad.". Stu moaned continuing to move forward until he released. His body collapsed on top of you, his head laid on your chest.

"That's the fastest I've ever came..." he whispered. You smirked, "I am a succubus." You reminded him. Billy looked down at Stu, "What if.. we both had her at once..". Stus eyes lit up, "I call ass.". Billy rolled his eyes and moved himself from behind you.

"Get up." He demanded Stu. Stu sat up taking himself out of you. Billy laid down, "Help her onto me..". Stu grabbed your arms and helped you get on top of him. You gently yanked your wrists seeing if you could get out of them. You couldn't.

Billy brought his member into your core as you sunk down. He grunted, "Shit..". Stu smiled widely pushing your body down. He spread your ass as he entered into you. He leaned back and grabbed your tied wrists as leverage.

"I gotta say... I never took two at once.." you admitted. Billy smiled at you, "Here that, Stu? We're her first threesome.". Stu laughs softly, "That's even better.". Billy began to thrust up matching Stus rhythm. Your face was buried into his neck softly moaning.

They continued to use your body for long lengths of time. They collectively came inside of your holes leaving them oozing with their come. You'd whine telling them it was getting to be too much at once. Billy laughed, "Can't handle us?".

You shook your head, "No.." you whined. He chuckled, "Aw.. she's so fucked out of it..". Stu laughed, "She tired from her holes being filled constantly. Did men from the past not fill you up this good?". You shook your head no, they two men laughed.

They untied your wrists and laid you down on the bed. Billy looked over at you, "When will we see you again.".

"Whenever you need me to kill someone..." you whisper. He nods, "Okay..".

"What if.. we miss you?" Stu adds in. You smiled, "Then I'll show up.". The two men nodded, you fluttered your eyes closed disappearing from the bed.

#scream #horror #ghostface #billy loomis #billy loomis x y/n #billy loomis x you #billy loomis x stu macher x reader #ghostface x y/n #ghostface x you #ghostface x reader #billy loomis x oc #billy loomis x stu matcher #billy loomis x stu macher #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis smut #stu macher x reader #stu macher smut #stu macher x you #stu macher #scream smut #scream movies #scream franchise #scream 2 #scary movies #scream 1996 #remi asks

[bonetrousled]

the TAPE WOMAN INCIDENT is as follows. under a cut because this is a LONG ass ride

okay so to preface i need u to understand two things

1) i live in the middle of nowhere. i personally live in the middle of a CORNFIELD and it takes me fifteen minutes to drive to where i work and even that location is pretty non-notable. i work on the weekends and it gets pretty dead past 6 pm

2) i had a coworker we’ll call Sheldon who was one of THE worst people i’ve ever met. the most unbearable obtuse cishet white gay guy you can imagine. like “lesbians get too much rep” kind of guy. would follow you around WHILE you did your job stocking shit and talk your ear off to hear his own voice .  beyond that he was super weirdly violent. he’d make up stories about himself to sound cool but instead of being like “yeah my dad works at minecraft” he’d make up stories abt himself beating the shit out of people and like. wrenching their hair out.

if anyone else said these things to me i’d be scared shitless but i knew i could take him in a fight but it was still fucking WEIRD. talked abt wanting to hurt a higher-ups kids and he STILL wasn’t fired for that (eventually got fired later thank god) but he constantly did things that were borderline like. budding serial killer behavior ON TOP OF being unbearable to work with and constantly stealing my sales to make my numbers look bad

so. one of my coworkers had to leave early bc she was sick and i was given an ultimatum. i could either A) close alone for the very first time and be by myself for like two hours with no prior warning OR B) have sheldon come and close with me. of course i picked the former with NO hesitation. i figure yeah this is a scary and sudden happenstance but also if i had to be around him any longer id freak the fuck out. plus im like it’s like what. 5pm already? it’s not gonna be bad. i can deal w this.

so i’m sitting in the back alone and relaxing and whatever. i did everything i needed to do for the rest of the night earlier and since nobody was in the store i was just new boot goofing. the only thing of note that happens is that these middle school age boys come in and buy perms and leave. they will be back later

i go back to the back room and i’m enjoying myself when i hear the door ding so i go up to the front. in comes the omen: a woman in a tank top, coated in orange spray tan, with a bedazzled cross necklace. she’s the normal amount of annoying for any given Customer Interaction. HOWEVER

i go to cash her out. and i’m waiting for her to press a button on the card scanner but i don’t get the chance to be like “hey you need to do this for me to even start scanning your shit” because she begins telling me about an experience she just had

she goes “well. just so you know, i saw a woman in this parking lot, and she was sort of peering around into people’s cars, and she came up to me- and her face was ALL taped up.” so at this point im thinking like. gauze?? medical tape??

and she continues- “and she wanted a ride. so i said, okay, and i let her into my car. and she wanted a smoothie”

 (i have to interject here to say there is NOWHERE to get a smoothie near me. i have no idea what she’s talking about)

“so i took her to the smoothie place. she also had a BIG bag of carrots, and she wanted them to put the carrots in there. so they did, but then she decided she wanted them to remake the drink because they touched the carrots. anyway, i decided that was too much, so i had to drop her off. i let her go at starbucks, so, you know. if you see her, BE CAREFUL.”

okay so let’s unpack this. FIRSTLY i have had a woman made up to me. this is completely unbelievable from start to finish. i have no fucking idea what she’s talking about . SECONDLY: BE CAREFUL??

so i’m just like. sure this might as well happen . and i’m just like “ooh. um. haha yeah okay” and finally get to scanning her shit. and she goes to leave and stops at the door and her face falls as she STARES at me and whispers:

“i don’t know if you believe in this sort of thing, but i think god is watching. ALL the time. and i think he really, really wanted me to give her that smoothie. but i just COULDN’T do it.”

and she fucking leaves . so i’m just left there like 🧍 and i go sit back in the back. and im chilling out back there when i hear the door ding, so i go up and i’m greeted by the perm boys. they forgot some stuff they needed, so i’m like. ok cool no prob, heres what you need. while i’m helping them i hear the door ding again, but i’m helping the perm boys, so i figure i’ll finish with them and then see who came in and what they need.

we go to walk up to the register and someone’s facing away from us in the aisle. so i’m like “oh um excuse me! just gotta sneak past ya” and the Person turns around.

the tape woman. imagine if you will a lady with her ENTIRE HEAD wrapped in duct tape like the INVISIBLE FUCKING MAN. with a hole cut out in the duct tape for her mouth but NONE FOR HER EYES . there’s a single tape hole right next to her nose that she’s using to look out at me and in order to see me she has to lean all the way back to look at me with it . ADDITIONALLY she is carrying a fucking DUFFEL BAG that’s OPENED and filled with LOOSE BABY CARROTS

so while my heart takes a fastpass route straight to my stomach i am faced with a MYRIAD of realizations:

FIRSTLY the tape woman is fucking real. the omen i was given not even an hour earlier had come to pass and she was now in my store. SECONDLY i am the only person working. i can’t even look at anyone and be like HEY WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON because my only witnesses are the goddamn PERM BOYS and THIRDLY i have to act like her head is NOT in fact covered in duct tape because like. i dont know what the hell is going on i think if i react in any way i will be in danger

so the tape woman scoots out of the way and i check the perm boys out. and they BOOK IT out of the store . so i am now left alone with the tape woman

and i’m like <:)  ..... do you. um. need any help with finding anything? and the tape lady turns around and she points at a bottle and goes. “is this shampoo?” and i’m like “ohhh um no that’s color sealer. this is shampoo here” and like. despite looking 100% like she was going to axe murder me she was one of the nicest people i had dealt with all day. she was just like “oh okay! thank you”.

and she asks me how much is so i tell her and she’s like oh alright. i only have five bucks on me right now so i’m gonna go into the parking lot and see if i can find any money. and i felt bad because like. i was going to offer to pay but the registers don’t let you cash yourself out if you’re ringing on them so i was just like “oh! alright!”

so she leaves and comes back a minute or two later and she’s very nicely just like “oh um don’t worry about it, i’m not gonna get anything today. have a nice night” and im like oh you too! and she leaves. and i watch through the front window as she goes to leave and this guy gives her like 20 bucks . so i’m thinking “oh she’s gonna come back and buy it right”

she comes back into the door. and stops in the doorway and she says to me

“um, don’t worry about it, actually. i’m not gonna get that right now-“

and she lowers her voice before going:

“because i have to pray. and if the prayer turns out RIGHT. i will come back. and i will buy it.”

and she LEAVES without a second word. did not even see her in the PARKING LOT for the rest of the NIGHT . i have asked MULTIPLE PEOPLE who work in the same plaza if they encountered this lady and NOBODY HAS. i asked the people at STARBUCKS and they say they haven’t ever seen her. my ONLY witnesses are these middle schoolers trying to get perms. i have been thinking about this at least once a day since the event has happened. i haven’t even seen the first lady who warned me about her since. i think i was contacted by spirits or something

tldr two separate women channel god in a beauty supply store in the middle of country bumpkin nowhere at 7:30 pm while i closed alone

#txt

[lovebugism]

Oooooo how abt shy reader & Steve at the movie theater? 🥰

thanks so much for your request, angel! i hope you enjoy!! steve takes shy!reader to the movies to make up for a bad date, featuring a wee love-bomb (1.6k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

Even though it’s your fifth date, you’re nervous like it’s your first.

It’s been a few months since then. Four of them, to be exact. 

Steve took you to a drive-in on your first date. He confessed some weeks ago that he thought it’d be easier for you — doing something that wouldn’t require a whole lot of talking outright. By the end of the movie, a reshowing of Rocky Horror, you felt more comfortable with him and less like the buzzing ball of anxiety you’d been when he picked you up earlier that evening.

The second date was dinner, the third was mini-golf, and the fourth was a picnic.

The fourth date did not go well.

Steve picked the hottest day of the year to eat outside. He hadn’t meant to, of course, but he certainly hadn’t packed enough water to combat the heat. And being that he also forwent the sunscreen, the two of you were sweaty, miserable, and sunburnt by the time he brought you back home. 

There was a world of bugs, too. The butterflies you hadn’t minded, but the wasps were a different story.

“I swear they’re antagonizing me,” you joked as you cowered into Steve’s side.

He was scared of them too, but he protected you anyway. “Well, what did you do to them?” he laughed with a pretty grin that made the heat and distant fear worth it.

“Nothing!” you giggled. “I’ve never done anything wrong in my life!”

Steve smiled down at you, sandwich crumbs stuck to the corners of his mouth. “I know that’s a joke, but I totally believe you.”

And as if the day wasn’t already going horribly wrong, a couple of asshole kids kicked a soccer ball in your direction and smacked you against the ear. 

They were in kindergarten, practically babies, and their moms were very apologetic. And you, being too nice for your own good, promised them that it was okay — that it was an accident and that it barely even hurt.

That wasn’t totally true. Your ear was red and ringing then, and hadn’t lessened when Steve took you home. He got you into bed and nursed you back to health with a bag of frozen peas pressed to your ear and a million kisses.

“I’m sorry,” he’d whispered against the crown of your head as he held you to his chest. “I feel like I fucked everything up…”

“You’re not the one that whacked me in the face with a soccer ball,” you laughed.

“Yeah, but… It was really hot. And the bugs wouldn’t leave you alone…”

“They had a vendetta against me, I think.”

“Totally,” Steve chuckled.

Your jaw rubbed against the fabric of his t-shirt as you turned to look up at him. His scruffy chin jutted downward as he peered down at you. “You protected me, though.”

“Did I?”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “So thank you.”

He scoffed. “Don’t thank me. You’re hurt.”

“’S not your fault.”

“Yeah, but I’m the idiot who wanted to picnic in a hundred-degree heat.”

“You couldn’t have known,” you retorted softly. 

Steve grew sheepish. With the hand not holding the frozen pack to your ear, his fingers brushed the length of your arm “So… you didn’t have the worst time in the world?”

“No, it was pretty bad,” you confessed, smiling when you felt his laugh rumble through his chest. “And I don’t know if I’ll ever go on a picnic again, but… I’m glad I got to be miserable with you and not someone else.”

You meant it. 

As overwhelming as the afternoon had gotten, Steve made it a lot less agonizing. He was your focal point, your teddy bear, your soft place to land. The big bouts of anxiety felt less significant with him holding you. Besides, you don’t think anyone else would clutch you to their chest and hold a bag of frozen vegetables to your throbbing ear. 

It wouldn’t feel as good with anyone else, either.

Steve’s smile curls against your forehead before he presses a kiss there. “I’m glad you get to be miserable with me, too, babe…”

The fifth date, though simple, had been carefully planned out.

He didn’t want a redo of the fourth one, lest you decide never to go out with him again. 

So he asks you to wait a few weeks before seeing Labyrinth despite your enthusiasm for the new film. He promises to take you, but that he’d rather wait until everyone else has already seen it so it could just be him and you in the theater.

And you, having never been a fan of huge crowds anyway, accepted without question.

He only asks that you wear the same pretty dress you wore to the picnic. The white sundress with the puffy sleeves and the flowy skirt that stopped just above your knee. Since, you know, neither of you got to enjoy it last time.

Steve leads you hand in hand into the cinema two weeks later. Everyone else was too busy crowding into the theater to watch the new Karate Kid sequel, which left the entire auditorium to yourselves. 

Well, mostly. There’s an older couple sitting in the middle off to the exit side. Steve jokes that they must’ve just heard that Labyrinth came out, and in two more weeks they’ll learn about Karate Kid. You giggle into your Slurpee.

The two of you settle in the very back of the theater in the center of the row. The theater isn’t dark, but it’s still dim — yellow in the faint lamps and the smell of buttery popcorn.

“Guess the means we can’t fool around in here, huh?” Steve quips, his shoulder nudging yours when he leans in to whisper to you.

Your eyes go wide, and your cheeks burn like a stove eye. “Steve!” you scold, much louder than you meant to. You shove him away with your shoulder, though you don’t really want him off you.

He reads you like a book and wraps an arm around you to press you closer to him. His musky cologne covers you like a warm blanket. Even in the dim light, his eyes twinkle when he grins down at you. “I’m kidding,” he promises.

“I was just about to thank you before you got all pervy,” you grouse lightheartedly.

“Thank me for what?” the boy scoffs. “For not taking you on the worst date of all time?”

“No. For… For buying my ticket and… for getting me snacks and everything…”

Steve shrugs. “That’s what a date is, babe. You let me do those things for you.”

“Yeah, but… You don’t have to do them, you know? But you do. So, thank you.”

You go sheepish, looking at him so shyly you’re practically peering at him from the corner of your eye. 

You do that a lot — not get all shy (even though you do that pretty often, too), but thank him for being your boyfriend. He doesn’t know if that sort of excessive politeness has been conditioned into you or if you had an ex that never did anything worth thanking them for. 

He doesn’t press the subject because he doesn’t want to stir up old ghosts. He remains curious about it nonetheless.

Steve squeezes your shoulder with one hand and digs his other into the container of popcorn in your lap. “Thank you for not dumping me after our last date.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” you promise, giggling.

“Yeah, ‘cause it was terrible!” he retorts dramatically. “I was scared you were gonna break up with me after that wasp started swarming you. And when you got whacked with that soccer ball, I was sure you were never gonna wanna see me again.”

It makes your heart hurt to think that he’d ever think something like that — that he’d been stewing over the whole thing long after you’d gotten over it.

“Honestly, I think it might’ve been a test,” you confess quietly.

“A test?” Steve snorts.

“Yeah, like… the world was trying to see if I liked you enough to suffer through second-degree sunburns, and bugs, and getting hit in the face, and… everything.”

The boy tilts his head to his shoulder. “And what did the world decide then, huh?”

“That I like you,” you admit, all quiet like it’s the first time you’ve ever said the words. Steve lost count around the millionth time they left his mouth. “Enough to do it all over again.”

“You like me?” Steve teases, as if your schoolgirl crush on him doesn’t give him schoolboy butterflies.

You nod and try not to smile too wide. “I really like you. And I’m scared to say the stronger word, so I won’t, but…”

“Stronger word?” the boy repeats with a laugh. His eyes go wide in realization a second later. “…Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh,” you mock with your own laugh, a lot more awkward than his had been. 

You turn your gaze to the popcorn in your lap. Steve analyzes your profile for any hint that you might be kidding. He knows you’re way too kind to joke around with his feelings like that — or yours, for that matter.

“Well, you know what?” he lilts.

You smile to yourself but don’t humor him enough to look at him with it. “What?”

“I’m not scared to say the stronger word.”

Your eyes sparkle in the dim light when they finally flit up to him. “No?”

“Mm-mm,” he hums with the shake of his head. “Actually, I’m pretty brave, as it turns out.”

“The bravest.”

Steve beams. “Exactly. And I love the shit outta you.”

You smile so big your cheeks hurt. “I love you too, Steve Harrington.”

He kisses you when the room goes dark.

He’s not a teenager, so it isn’t obscene, but the peck is languid and full of the words he’d just said to you. He spends the next two hours whispering them into your ear. I love you, I love you, I love you.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x shy!reader #bug's summer fic fest!

[gublersg1rl]

to be a good daughter.

plot: reader texts her dad who she is not on speaking terms with, his response makes her feel many different emotions, and a want to isolate herself. spencer attempts to comfort her through these rough times.

warnings ⚠️ : reader is referred to as a girl, no age specified but reader mentions studying (university you weirdos), implied nonsexual shower (but you can choose if it's sexual idc), established relationship, daddy issues, no use of y/n, proofread but could 100% have mistakes, mentions of narcissism, a little bit angsty, reader is stubborn at first cuz why not, could be missing stuff but oh well

A/N: HIIII, i posted abt me texting my father and ppl told me it was relatable so instead of going to therapy like a normal person i wrote this!! i don’t know if this is weird??? a venting fanfic but i got a couple people tell me they wanted it soooo here we are,,,,i tried to make the issue of why reader and her dad stopped talking loose and up to you but i don’t know if succeeded,,,kinda got carried away !

-♡--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡-

You sat in bed, back pushed against the headboard, knees to your chest. Sitting in complete silence with no lights, except for the cracks of dawn gleaming through your half-open blinds. However, you feel contradicted by your fondness of the silence. Your energy was completely drained to nothingness, while simultaneously loathing the way your mind could not be distracted.

You didn’t have much time to contemplate whether you liked sitting with your thoughts as your brain got preoccupied by the sounds of keys opening the door. It was your boyfriend, you knew he’d be home soon but you lost track of time, sitting in your regret as you could hear his failed endeavors at being quiet, a useless attempt in not waking you.

At last, the bedroom door finally opened, and an outline of your boyfriend filled the doorframe. “You're awake—?” Spencer asked, his voice slightly surprised with an element of concern.

You give him a small nod, “I am,”

Although your response was short, and unengaging due to your lack of desire to want to be conversing right now, you were glad if you were talking to anyone at this moment, it was him.

“I texted you after I got off the plane.”

“My phones on do not disturb.”

“Angel, we talked about this. I don't like you having your—”

“I was studying, Spencer.” You say before another word can leave his mouth.

A little taken aback by your successful attempt to cut his safety speech short, he quickly shakes it off because it doesn't take a profiler to see you are upset.

“Okay,” he surrenders, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “What's going on?” Spencer questioned, taking one of your hands in his, and caressing his thumb up and down your skin comfortingly.

Your pupils dart to trace his hands taking in yours. As much as you want to be isolated, the comfort feels better than you convinced yourself it would. Regardless, you still feel this inexplicable urge to shield yourself. Maybe because talking about it makes it more real. Something you so desperately didn't want to be true.

You push your lips together, shrugging your shoulders, “Nothing wrong, just couldn't sleep, I guess.”

Spencer examined your movements before replying. “We don't have to talk about it, but I do not want you to lie to me. I respect if you would rather not talk about how you feel, even if I think you should. If you don't want to, I won't push you. All I ask is you be honest with me about how you feel, okay?”

And with that, tears drown your vision. “Why the fuck do you think I'm lying?” you say as if the only defense to your vulnerability is being hostile.

Your reaction alone was enough for him to get the answer he ought for. “I'm going to go take a shower, I'll let you have alone time,” Spencer stated deciding it was better to not edge you on anymore, before getting up from your shared bed.

“Wait—“ you quickly say, hand attempting to pull him back. “I'm sorry,” all efforts at putting up your ‘I don't care’ facade are now perished. “I don't want you to leave.” is soon also added to your apology.

“Okay, I'm here,” Spencer said softly, coming to standing at the side of the bed, as you moved in front of him, sitting on your knees.

Your arms wrap around his neck, embracing his now-accepted comfort. “I'm sorry,” you whisper again, pulling yourself up to bury your face in the crook of his neck.

“Shh, baby I know, it's okay.” He answered back hands now squeezing your waist gently.

the tears you repressed for hours, finally all come out. You sob into his skin, as Spencer just holds you. “I’m so stupid…” you manage to get out.

“Don't say that,” he whispered.

“I am,” you respond pulling back to look up at him with teary eyes.

His hands wipe away your tears, “You are not stupid, why would you ever say that?”

“I texted my dad,” you confess to him, leaning your head against his hand.

“I know.”

You give him a puzzled stare, shaking your head narrowly. “What?”

“Well,” He said pushing some loose hair behind your ear, “I knew you had been contemplating it for a while. So, when I saw you were upset I made the assumption you finally went for it.”

“Then why did you ask me what happened?”

“I'd like to believe you'll come to me when you're ready. Just because I know something doesn't mean you're ready to talk about it, but when you are, I'm here. I'm always here.”

“Do you think that makes me weak?”

“That you're not ready?”

“That I texted him,”

“No, of course not angel.”

His fingers gently brushed through your hair as he pondered ideas of what to say next, “I think that makes you empathetic, even if you shouldn't be.”

“It's not empathy Spencer, I hate my dad. I hate everything he put me through, I hate the fact I can't escape it—” tears gloss your eyes once again, “I hate that even when I don't talk to him, and I distance myself from his— emotional abuse. He's right there. He's in my head. And-, and I just want to be a good daughter…” and with those last couple of words, tears plunge out from your eyes, glistening as they fall.

Almost robotically Spencer is quick to wipe the moisture collecting on your cheeks, and chin with his thumb. “You are a good daughter, my love.” he coos reassuringly. “But let's say in a hypothetical world where you aren't, do you really owe your father a good daughter after all he's done to you?”

“I just wanted an apology,” You dismiss his question because the answer is not something you want to admit right now. “But instead I was the one who was apologizing, I just— sat in bed. Staring at my phone, as he went on, and on about how much I hurt him,” Your hands desperately claw at his shirt for support, tears begging to be spilled. “But— he hurt me, Spencer, he hurt me.” taking in a deep breath, you continue. “But I just sat there, as he attempted to gaslight and manipulate me, and I'm not stupid I knew. I knew Spencer. I knew what he was doing. And like an idiot, I just apologized. All I could say was I'm sorry. And to some extent, it's true—” You pause to let out a sigh, “I feel selfish, my dad is a narcissist who is incapable of understanding his faults and I'm punishing him for that. I know he's hurting because of me, and even if he's in the wrong he can’t see that.”

“That is not true,” Spencer responded almost immediately making your tight grip on his white button-up loosen. “There are many people who suffer from the same issues as your father, who do not act the way he does. Your asks of him are simple, but he refuses to better himself for you. You can’t blame yourself for his actions, or the way he feels right now, because he did that to himself. It’s not right for you to bash yourself over not being a good daughter when he never did the job of being a good father. You are a great daughter for wanting him to better himself, he’s a bad father for making you feel guilty for that. So please, don’t ever call yourself selfish, stupid, or an idiot, because I am so incredibly proud of you, and everything you've accomplished.”

Tears trickle down your face, looking up at him as you soak in every word he says. “I love you,” are the only words you can manage to get out.

“I love you too sweetheart,” he said softly. “But it is late, and you need rest. Okay?”

You nod, eyelashes battering as you realize just how tired you truly are. “Okay,” you repeat back.

“I'm going to go take a shower now, I'll meet you in bed soon.”

“Spence,” you whine grabbing his hand.

He sighs, with a smile knowing exactly what you were insinuating. “Okay, fine. Come on, let's go.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #y/n x spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #fanfic #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid blurb #criminal minds fanficton #criminal minds fanfic #daddy issues

[sushiwriterhere]

new rules

summary: "Don’t pick up the phone, he’s only calling because he’s drunk and alone. Don’t let him in, you’ll have to kick him out again. Don’t be his friend, you know he’s going to wake up in your bed in the morning. If you’re under him, you’re sure as hell not getting over him."  rating: explicit (18+ mdni) pairing: bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x f!reader word count: 8.5k (this got away from me sorry y'all) warnings: angst (lack of communication!), idiots pining, PiV (unprotected), oral (f receiving), hangman x phoenix (blink and u will miss it), no use of y/n.  notes: thank you to @waklman for letting me bounce ideas off you! im very nervous abt this one, i feel like its dif from my other stuff so pls pls let me know what u think! my other works are here

Friends with benefits is maybe an inaccurate way to describe what’s going on between you and Bradley. Friends? Sure, since he asked you if you were using that bench at the beach and then he’d introduced himself. With benefits? You’re not sure if they really could be classified that way.

Bradley’s almost always a perfect gentleman. 

He doesn’t ignore you in the daylight, but the two of you never talk about the way he finds himself in your bed most nights rather than not, drunk or sober. 

It had started one night when you’d turned down an invitation to go to the Hard Deck, instead choosing to do a night of self care. You’d spent too long doing your eyebrows and managed to get a sheet mask to fully cover your face for once. You lost count of how much time you spent in the shower as an indulgence, and threw on the comfiest clothing you owned. Then, you sat yourself down in front of your TV to numb your mind with some perfectly trashy reality television.

Around 11:30, your phone had rang. Picking it up and squinting at the brightness, you saw Bradley’s face grinning back at you, the picture from one of your many beach days since you’d met. 

Despite your best instincts you’d picked up. What if he was stranded? What if something had happened? You’d steeled yourself for the worst. 

Instead, Bradley had just opened with a simple, “Hey.”

“Bradley? Is everything okay?” You could hear the noise of the Hard Deck in the background, but it had been yelling and there weren’t any sirens. 

“Yeah,” His sigh had come over extra loud through the speakers, “Just uh, was just thinking about you.”

“Okay,” What the hell? You remember mouthing the words to yourself as someone on screen had thrown a drink in someone else’s face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

He hadn’t responded to your question, instead he’d just said, “Are you at your apartment?”

“Yeah, I’m here. Bradley is everything–”

“I’ll see you soon.” And with that, he’d hung up with a definitive click. 

You’d stared at the dimming screen of your phone for probably almost five minutes. Surely he couldn’t have been that drunk–god, was he planning on driving? Calling him during that was probably a bad idea.

Great, leave it to Bradley to stress you the fuck out on a Friday evening when you’d been aiming for peace. You’d tried to refocus on your show, but you weren’t even paying attention to the words. 

No more than five minutes later, there had been a knock at your door. You’d stood slowly, not sure that this was actually happening. 

You’d opened the door to a Bradley with flushed cheeks and a glint in his eye, leaning against the railing outside your apartment. It was only after a moment of silence that you realized you were wearing an old Navy shirt of his, loaned to you at the beach a few weeks ago. You could feel the way his eyes started at your legs and dragged up your frame, taking everything in.

“Bradley?”

He’d pushed off the railing and backed you into your apartment, letting the door swing shut behind the two of you. You’d backed into the living room til your back hit a wall, your heart in your throat. You couldn’t look away from him, not with the way he’d been crowding into your space, leaning into you.

“Hi, sweetheart.” His voice was a tone he’d never used on you before, and you remember the way your heart had hammered in your chest. 

He’d been so warm and so close, setting all of your nerve endings on fire. It wasn’t that you hadn’t realized that Bradley was attractive–the man’s whole job was to stay in shape and be clean cut. He was beautiful. But you’d kept that to yourself, afraid of crossing that line, afraid that you’d ruin something that was turning out to be one of the strongest friendships you’d had in years. 

You still feel that fear, despite all the lines that have been crossed since that moment.

The way he’d kissed you had wiped every thought from your head. His hands had slid up your thighs to grip at your waist under his shirt hanging loosely on you. His mouth had moved smoothly against yours, making you sigh and wrap your arms around his shoulders. 

By the time the two of you had made your way into your bedroom, he’d lost every piece of clothing but his briefs and his dog tags. They’d dug into your sternum as you’d pressed yourself against him, the cool metal warming quickly between the two of you. 

The way your blood had been rushing in your ears from adrenaline had drowned out the way he’d murmured to himself as he’d kissed down your body. He never did pull his shirt off you. He’d simply maintained his grip on your hips, lifting your thighs over his shoulders as he’d pulled your panties down and licked desperately into you.

Your hands had gone to his hair out of reflex. He had been rocking you steadily and you think you’ll always remember how you felt when you’d realized it was because he was grinding his hips against the bedframe, so turned on from getting his mouth on you. 

He’d eaten you out like a man starved, his nose bumping into your clit as his tongue fucked you. It had been messy and loud but you hadn’t cared about the neighbors or your dignity, not with the way his fingers had finally curled into you. 

“Bradley,” You’d gasped when you finally came, back arching and fingers tightening in his hair to the point where your knuckles ached.

He’d held you through it, had let you rock your hips against his face and not complained at all. In fact, he’d seemed delighted by the way you’d let yourself just feel, pleasure wracking your body and consuming your mind in a haze.

Kissing his way up your body, he’d slid his hands under the shirt and groped you gently. You remember the way your mind had stayed cloudy and you’d floated, tethered only to the real world by the way his thumbs flicked gently at your nipples.

“I’m here, I’m here,” He’d panted into your mouth as you whined when he’d sat back slightly to kick off his briefs and hitch your thighs over his waist, “I’ve got you.”

The first time Bradley had ever slid his cock into you, you knew you’d never be the same, that you’d never be able to go back. Not when he’d kept himself hovering over you just barely, propped up on his elbow, with his lips still brushing yours and his dog tags catching in the sheen of sweat along your sternum. Not when he rocked into you inch by inch, making the world around you blur into nothingness. 

You’d let yourself fall apart under him, let yourself sink into the mattress and just take whatever he was willing to give you. He’d fucked you deeper and more gently than anyone before–to this day, you’re not even sure you can classify it as ‘fucking’, that always felt too vulgar for the way he’d brushed his lips over your cheekbones and murmured sweet nothings. 

But saying Bradley had, and still does, made love to you means trying to find something from nothing, means discerning some sort of level of connection he’s never made clear. You’re not trying to break your own heart more than you already are.

In spite of that, you can’t forget the way he’d held you like you were precious, like you were everything to him. He’d cum inside you with a guttural moan, a punched out gasp at the way you’d clenched around him. It had made you realize that was all you’d ever wanted, Bradley warm around you and inside you, him making you feel complete in a way you hadn’t known you weren’t whole before. 

He’d been a perfect gentleman when you’d both come down, easing out of you so he could clean up. He’d massaged your thighs and hips where you were sure you would’ve been aching the next morning if he hadn’t, had apologized under his breath at the fingerprints now dotying your hips. He’d thumbed at the collar of the Navy shirt where it had stayed on your frame the entire time, looking pensive but never saying anything.

You’d woken up alone the next morning, a sticky note on the bedside table reading–Had to run for work. Thanks for having me over. A messy heart and a hastily scrawled Bradley closing off the message. 

And so it went. So it goes. 

During the day, you and Bradley are the paragon of good friendship–he’ll send you memes when he gets access to his phone in between flights and lessons, you’ll pick him up after work to go to the beach. The two of you don’t talk about it–because what is there to talk about? 

No words are ever exchanged about the way that Bradley clears out a drawer for you at his place, you just find a few of the things you’d left at his place in there one day. You never give back his Navy shirt, not when you find yourself wearing it more often than not. Nothing is said about how you start picking up his favorite flavors of ice cream and his preferred brand of coffee creamer, you just make a habit of throwing them into your cart when you go to the store.

And everything is fine. It really is. You disregard the side glances from Phoenix and Bob as they see you leave with Bradley on Friday and Saturday nights, you ignore the way Hangman wiggles his eyebrows at you when Bradley insists on paying for your drinks. Just friends, is all. Just friends.

They can make their assumptions, whisper while you’re out of ear shot, but they don’t see the quiet, comfortable domesticity that you and Bradley engage in when the two of you are alone. You go back to his after beach afternoons since it’s closer to your favorite spot, and the two of you will shower (separately) and make dinner together. Sometimes you’ll sleep over if you’re working remote the next day, sometimes you’ll go home.

On weekends, Bradley picks you up in the morning, trunk holding a cooler full of drinks and snacks, and you two will go to the beach again or go on a hike. Sometimes Phoenix or Bob or the whole crew will come along, sometimes they won’t. 

Just friends. And it’s fine.

Until everything isn’t fine. 

Bradley and you have been at this for a few months now, and you can feel yourself cracking. You’re reaching out to kiss him when you do wake up together, before your brain is awake enough to stop you, reminding you that that’s not what you two do. On an outing to a boardwalk teeming with life and populated by those games you can win stuffed animals at, you resist the urge to press him against the railing of the pier and lick the taste of your shared gelato cone out of his mouth. 

When the dam finally breaks, it begins like any other night. You have a margarita and a half in you, some concoction that Phoenix insisted you try that’s actually good. Bradley’s already done a rendition of My Way at Penny’s request, but for now the jukebox is blaring some 80s hit Hangman picked out.

You can feel yourself swaying to the beat, just letting the warmth of the moment sink in as you’re surrounded by your friends, the people you love. 

“Hi,” Bradley breathes into your ear as he sidles up next to you, his arms coming to settle around your waist. You can feel his warmth through the flimsy fabric of the dress you’ve got on.

“Hi Brad,” He hates it when people call him that–lets you get away with it though. “What’cha doin’?”

“Waitin’ for you.” He leans his entire body weight against you, making you slump against the table you’re standing next to.

“Ah! Bradley, stop it.” You try to stand, but the way he’s laughing makes it hard to shake yourself from his grip, “What do you mean you’re waiting for me? I’m waiting for you.”

The grin he shoots you is electric, and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, right here in the middle of the Hard Deck, with all your friends around and in Penny and Mav’s line of sight. That thought makes your heart skip a beat.

“Come home with me?” He whispers, just barely letting his voice rise above the background noise, and when you don’t respond immediately, “Or let me take you home?”

That’s all it takes, really, for you to agree. The way he’s so willing, so malleable, for you. You’re leading him out by the hand without responding to his questions, making your way to the Bronco that’s parked in the back corner of the lot. 

Bradley keeps the foolish grin on his face the entire time he drives back to your apartment. The warmth radiating from him doesn’t abate when he licks into your mouth once the two of you are inside. One of his palms rests against your heart, the other working its way up your thigh and inside your panties that are already damp. 

“You’re so good to me,” He murmurs, dipping his fingers below your waistband and brushing through your curls, feeling just how slick you are. 

All you can do is whine as he picks you up and makes his way to your bedroom. For once, he doesn’t trip or stub his toe on anything, and it somehow heightens the intensity. Normally, you and Bradley seek comedic relief of some sort, something to cut the tension and keep it from making your chest tighten in a way that feels like a warning. This time, you aren’t granted any such reprieve.

He undresses you slowly and deliberately, letting his fingertips drag lightly up your sides and over your shoulders. He shrugs his Hawaiian shirt off easily, and lets you yank his wife beater over his head without complaint. 

Then, the two of you are just staring at each other, both panting lightly. You’re propped up on your elbows, staring up at him only in your panties. Bradley’s got one hand about to pop the button of his jeans, but he’s frozen. You feel like you can’t move but also like something might be changing. 

You don’t want it to change, you don’t want to lose Bradley in more ways than one. If this is what he’s willing to give you, you don’t want this to change. 

He nearly falls over when his foot gets stuck in his jeans, and even that doesn’t break the tension. Once he’s climbing over you, enveloping you, kissing up your stomach and neck, you forget all about decorum and keeping up appearances.

The whine that echoes around the room is pathetic and high pitched, but it’s the only way you think to communicate to Bradley how bad you need him in that moment. His hips are rocking gently against yours and you want the layers gone, you need to feel him. 

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” And his hands are around your hips, dragging your underwear off you unceremoniously. 

Although he makes a good attempt at going down on you, you don’t let him. You dig your fingers into his shoulder and yank at his hair to keep his face level with yours and kiss him desperately.

“I want to eat you out, please?” The depth of his voice sends a shiver through you.

Normally he wouldn’t even have to ask, but you don’t want that right now. You just want to feel him inside you. 

“Need you in me, please,” You take a heaving breath before the pleading spills out of you, “Pleasepleasepleaseplease–”

He shushes you as you scrunch your face up, not knowing how else to convey your desires in that moment, “Okay. I’ve got you, it’s okay.”

You almost wail in protest when his fingers slide into you. You can’t figure out why you feel like you’re burning up from the inside out, why you feel so fucking needy. 

“Sweetheart you gotta let me prep you somehow, just–” 

You feel like the embarrassment might kill you when you keen at the feeling of his fingers inside you. The way you’re trying to be good, you really are, because he does have a point. Plus, you have to be fair to Bradley, this isn’t just about you. 

So you hold still, let him work his fingers in and out of you as you pant and clutch at his shoulders like a lifeline. His mouth presses against yours, works its way over your cheeks and down your throat. He sucks a mark gently into your collarbone, and you ignore the way your brain reminds you about having to cover that up for work. 

He doesn’t shut up the entire time, just keeps telling you how good you’re doing for him, how good you feel, how he’s been thinking about this all night. The world seems to go right-side up again when he pushes into you. 

You whimper at the way he rocks his hips ever so gently before pulling out. He kisses you again and again, only letting his lips leave yours so he can kiss your forehead or cheeks. The motion of his hips is a steady tempo, he keeps time with your breaths that turn into moans when you start feeling that telltale coil in your stomach. 

He runs his tongue along your teeth and you’re done for. You clench down on him and dig your nails into his skin, bucking your hips up as your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave. 

Bradley fucks you through it like every other time, yes, but this time there’s something about the way he stutters out a moan and his hips match the faltering rhythm as he finishes right after you. The shallow rocking of his hips continues and you try to ignore the prickling of tears at the corners of your eyes. 

Something tells you that this time, you shouldn’t have let Bradley take you home. When he pulls his face back from yours and he rolls the two of you onto your sides without pulling out, he’s got this look on his face that screams unspoken words. He cups your face and strokes your cheekbone with his thumb without saying anything. 

The two of you are quiet as he cleans you up, as you dress yourself in another one of his shirts.

When you wake up the next morning, Bradley isn’t there. It doesn’t shock you necessarily, sometimes he stays, sometimes he has to leave to be on time for work.

What does send a terrible feeling trickling down your throat and into your stomach is the post-it, all four square inches covered in sloppy hearts. Bradley had signed his name in the bottom left corner, characteristic chicken scratch labeling it as him even if the name wasn’t enough.

This has to end.

Don’t pick up the phone, he’s only calling because he’s drunk and alone.

You last about three rings before you cave in, waiting for the sound of his voice to echo around the apartment. You’re holding your breath.

“I knocked.” Is all he says before you’re on your feet, making your way to the door.

There he is, and although you know he isn’t really drunk, you know he’s got a beer or two in him from the way he doesn’t try to hide how he looks at you. You hate the way you’re weak for him.

You’ve been caving to him more than once a week since that first night, since Bradley had knocked your world off kilter. Though you’re in bed together almost every night, whether at his place or yours, you don’t have sex nearly every time. Part of you thinks that might make it worse. It really had been fine at first, but the first morning you’d cried at the sight of that sticky note covered in hearts, you’d known you had to try and put an end to this.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” He tries, a crooked grin splitting his face as he walks toward you, but you know he doesn’t mean his words at all. 

“Bradshaw, have you been drinking?” You want to not want this, want to not want the way his gaze pins you down, the way the length of his body against yours just feel so right.

Let him being drunk and you being sober be the excuse, you beg silently. You can’t manage to force out that maybe he should go home, sleep this off in his own bed. You can’t find it in yourself to tell him to leave, to reject his advances. Watching as if outside your own body, he shuts the door behind him and walks up to you. 

Your chest aches with unconfessed feelings when he takes your face in his hands and lets his forehead rest against yours. His lips are soft and warm against yours, his mustache tickling you lightly when it brushes against your face. The whine you let out matches his soft groan, and the two of you stand there making out for a few minutes, almost as if you’re both content to just drink each other in without further motives. 

“I’ve got you sweetheart, I’ve got you,” And he’s picking you up.

You yelp at the way you’re suddenly lifted from the ground and you bury your face in his neck. You hate heights, your feet off the ground anything more than a few inches sends you spiraling in short order. But it’s Bradley who’s holding you, and some part of you knows he’d never let you fall, never let you crash into the ground. 

The way you two fall into your bed is too natural, it makes your stomach churn. His fingers find their place on your hips, around your thighs. It’s all too easy. You wish it would be a bit more awkward, that the chemistry could be imagined or false–instead you’re confronted by the way your bodies flow with one another’s all too easily. 

Again, somehow, you’re in nothing but his Navy shirt. 

Maybe I should give it back, the thought flits through your mind and you feel guilty immediately. Bradley always seems to take a special sort of pleasure from fucking you in his shirt, and you selfishly want to keep that bargaining chip, to have something that tethers him to you. If he won’t come back to press you into your sheets, then maybe he’ll come back one last time to get his shirt when this inevitably unravels. 

“Sweetheart,” He groans softly when his fingers reach the way you’re embarrassingly wet between your legs. 

It takes everything in you not to jerk back from his touch–you still don’t know how to confront the way you’re so responsive to his touch. His mere presence.

“I missed you.”

It slips out before you can stop yourself, your lips part and you breathe the words before you can do anything about it. He chooses that exact moment to dip a fingertip into your fluttering, but empty, hole, and you arch your back and moan. Instead of responding, he kisses you hungrily, all pretense gone. 

This isn’t something entirely tender, not anymore. He’s searching for something, a certain reaction, with the way he adds and then curls his fingers inside of you. He finds it when you jerk underneath him at the way he pets at that spot inside you you can never seem to reach on your own. 

He mumbles against your lips, “There you go,” As you squirm under him, the press of his fingers inside you relentless.

He works his fingers in and out of you, not taking anything in return. It’s all you can do to hold on to him and whine pitifully. Every sensation feels amplified, feels electric because it’s him. 

The two of you settle into a familiar rhythm for as long as it takes for Bradley to make you cum the first time. You’re rocking against him through the aftershocks and you can feel the way he’s hard against you through his clothes.

He’s still dressed. The realization sends a bolt of shame through you, but it doesn’t linger long. 

He’s shoving his jeans down his legs, not bothering with wiping his hand clean and you shiver at the thought that he’ll have to put them on again, you streaked across them. He makes quick work of his boxers too, and it occurs to you that he must’ve lost his shirt somewhere along the way when he presses his bare chest against your still clothed one.

“Bradley, Bradley,” You chant, “Take off my shirt.”

It’s the most demanding you’ve probably ever been with him, but he laughs at you anyways. There’s a glint in his eye as he sits up, his hard cock bobbing between his thighs. The sight of his naked form between your spread legs makes you swallow hard and your mouth water. 

“I like you in my shirt.” There’s something unsaid there, something about claims and ownership that isn’t truly possession, but a reminder of who belongs to whom regardless.

You pull it off your head in protest, and grab his wrist to drag him back down to you. You let yourself indulge in trailing a hand down the firm planes of his body down to where he’s smearing precum against your thigh. He’s heavy and pulsing in your hand and a light hiss rushes through his clenched teeth when you grip him tightly and twist with your wrist. 

“Fuck, fuck, not gonna last if you–” Bradley cuts himself off with a groan as you swipe your thumb over his head. 

It’s your turn to laugh, “You just got here.”

“Well, have you ever had sex with yourself? It’s tough out here–give a guy a break.”

The both of you dissolve into giggles at that, as you try to imagine how you would look sprawled under yourself. You can’t picture it, but the image of Bradley under or over you makes you think you might understand. 

He lines his hips up with yours once you’re both done making fools of yourself at the thought of you having sex with yourself (it reminds you of a drunk hypothetical you’d spent thirty minutes on with Hangman once–would you have sex with a clone of yourself?). 

The first push of him inside you cuts through the lighthearted mood immediately. It always shocks you how perfectly he fits inside you despite his size, how incredibly full you feel when his hips meet yours. The gentle friction of the neat curls at the base of his cock against your clit always provides a stimulation that makes your brain go fuzzy. 

The snap of his hips against yours is more intense this time, a sort of rhythm that makes you briefly think about the way the headboard might start knocking against the wall. But all thoughts, really, fly out of your head when Bradley brings a hand up to your nipples, the steady stroke of his fingers over the swell of your breasts as practiced and knowing as everything else he’s doing to you. 

All you can do is run your hands down his back, scratch your nails against his skin ever so often when he brushes against something so sweet and perfect inside you. You clench around him just to see the reaction it’ll get, and you’re rewarded with a broken groan.

“You’re not fighting fair,” He gasps, and he hitches one of your thighs up so he can press more insistently into you. 

You have a clever comeback somewhere in you–something about how you weren’t aware that the two of you were fighting, but it’s swallowed as he presses his lips into yours again. He seems absolutely intent on showing you exactly how you make him feel because the sensations of pleasure become overwhelming. 

“Fuck sweetheart, you feel perfect, god you’re so wet for me,” He’s rambling mindlessly, but you let it happen, clinging to any expression of emotion, any sliver of dedication in his tone that you can hold on to til the next time you find yourself in this position. 

You know he’s close when his grip on your thigh tightens forcefully and the strokes go from long and deep to slightly shorter and stunted. He’s grunting and gasping, but it’s all the best thing you’ve ever heard. 

“Come for me Bradley, I want to feel you,” And at that, he follows your orders, listens to you for once in his life. 

Everything is hazy as he keeps himself hovering over you and continues to rock his hips. You start to try and tell him he can pull out before his fingers find your clit and he dives back in to kiss you passionately. 

Bradley is a perfectionist at heart, an overachiever. You suppose it isn’t entirely ridiculous that that extends to his performance in the bedroom–he’s insistent you finish every time, and always more than him. Feeling the way he’s still warm and heavy inside you, his lips firm against yours, brings you over the edge more quickly than you’d like to admit. 

Still, you heave a shuddering gasp and let the pleasure wash over you. It’s overwhelming and all consuming, but he’s there through all of it til you feel yourself come back into your own body. 

You think he might be writing something on your skin, the way his finger loops and dips softly over your hip bone as he kisses you gently. He’s softening inside you and you can feel the mess the two of you made under your hips, except he isn’t moving, not yet at least, to rectify that situation. 

For once, you don’t push him to go clean up or scold him for another set of ruined sheets, you just let yourself bask in the moment as you imagine a world where the two of you will talk about this in the morning. You think of a timeline where this is where you end up because it’s where you’re meant to be, not because it’s something you’re choosing despite how it hurts you every time. You think of a place where Bradley is yours and you are his, wholly and completely.

Don’t let him in, you’ll have to kick him out again. 

“Didn’t you have a date tonight?” You breathe into his mouth.

Bradley just hums in response, brushing his lips over yours, down your jawline and your throat. His breath comes in warm puffs over your collarbones before he pulls back.

Hands pinned above your head, you squirm under his gaze. There’s something so intense about the way he’s looking at you, but you can’t bring yourself to squeeze your eyes shut to avoid it. Both of you lost your clothes somewhere on your way to the bedroom, and you’re thinking about how to persuade him to be the one to pick it all up when this is inevitably over. 

He smells like expensive cologne, and he’s got some product in his hair that made it difficult for you to brush your hands through it earlier. Plus, Phoenix had been dropping unsubtle hints earlier in the week (Hangman had affectionately called her out, a little sigh following— “You’re being such a shit stirrer.”)

“Bradley,” You try again, this time with a slight whine.

Did he seriously ditch some girl that’s probably been waiting on their date all week for this?

He responds by whispering your name back to you, the same tone undercutting the way he says it, “That doesn’t matter, I’m here now.”

The urge to keep complaining rises in you but he preempts your worries by licking into your mouth when you open it. 

He presses you into the mattress, weighing you down as he kisses you languidly, as if he’s trying to taste every part of you, as if he’s trying to memorize the sounds that escape you when he does. The warmth of his body makes your mind fog, and for the time being, everything else but this goes quiet. 

Distantly, you know that in the morning, he’ll have to leave. At the very least, he’ll have to go back to his to grab his stuff for the beach, a change of clothes. It isn’t kicking him out, but watching him leave again and again has started to build this pit at the bottom of your stomach. 

It would be different, you think, if the two of you were together. Because then, him leaving wouldn’t mean much where there would be an implicit promise and understanding that he was going to come back. Every time he closed the door behind him, you swallowed the fear that that would be your final memory of him. 

You’re selfish though. And you want to focus on the feeling of his touch instead of thinking about how you may never get to have this again. 

He makes it easy. Bradley pulls his shirt off and his dog tags make a gentle clinking sound as they hit each other and then finally come to rest on his chest. He looks like a god, backlit by the setting sun coming through your windows. 

This is how you want to remember him. Smiling down at you as he dives back in to kiss you breathless, twitching when you skim your fingertips up his sides because he’s ticklish. 

He makes short work of your shirt and sleep shorts, then his jeans are discarded. He stops briefly when his fingers reach the waistband of your underwear, a silent question that you answer by lifting your hips and letting him pull them off you. 

Every time he’s between your legs, he has this reverent look on his face, and it makes your chest twist at the fact that this time is no different. He holds your thighs open gently but firmly, and he presses his face into your pussy. Then, his tongue is darting out and licking up your core, flat and wide. 

You’d asked him once, if he likes going down on you. With a gleam in his eye, Bradley had said it was second only to being inside of you. You think of that as he eats you out enthusiastically, as you bury your hands in his hair and pull. 

He slides his tongue in and out of you, curls it around your clit and sucks in a way that makes your back arch and your thighs clenched around his head. Then, he’s slipping a finger inside and fucking you slowly with it. It makes you shiver as you realize how close you are. 

“Sweetheart, fuck, you taste incredible,” He murmurs, more to himself than anything else, pulling back briefly to make eye contact and you feel the way your breath quickens at the intensity of his gaze.

It only takes a few more minutes of him licking into you, tonguing at your clit, and adding another finger before you feel that familiar swooping in your stomach, before you’re choking out his name. Your back arches so much it aches, but it’s all you can do as the pleasure is all consuming. Bradley works you through it like every other time, holding you and letting you take what you need from him.

Then, he’s on you in an instant, kissing you furiously and sliding his hardness up and down you, covering himself in your slick. It’s filthy and sloppy but neither of you seem to mind. He lets himself rut against you til you’re hooking your legs around him and digging one of your heels into his back.

“Alright, alright,” He’s trying to sound nonchalant, but you know he’s more affected than his light tone lets on. 

The first push into you is always the most intense, but you suck in a deep breath that you force out through your teeth.

“I know, I know,” He croons, pressing little kisses all over your face as you adjust to him.

Bradley inches into you slowly, inch by inch. The initial stretch subsides til it’s replaced by the sweetest feeling of fullness, the way you can feel all of him. 

If there’s one thing the Navy’s good for, it’s the sheer strength Bradley possesses and has to maintain. You feel it in the way he fucks you, his back muscles rippling as you hold on for dear life. You feel it in the way his hips press into yours, shunting you slightly up the mattress.

For a while, the only sounds in the room are his hips meeting yours and the slick between the two of you. Momentarily, he pulls away from kissing you to look down to where he’s disappearing inside of you, that ring of you collecting at the base of his cock. His groan is guttural and broken. 

“Fuck, Bradley, it feels so good.”

He leans down again to kiss you sloppily, and the simple action of him burying a hand in your hair and twisting his wrist makes your heart skip a beat. He always knows exactly what you need when you need it. 

“C’mon, come for me, sweetheart, let me feel you.”

And because you’ve never been able to deny him anything, there you are, hurtling over the edge again. He’s everywhere around you, inside you, and his tongue in your mouth is the last thing you need to feel that wave crest inside of you. Bradley’s moan is deep as he feels you bare down on him and he follows you shortly after.

The moments after, when the glow is still settling and your mind is still hazy, are your favorite. Your mind is too foggy to focus on the fact that you know he’ll be leaving, but present enough to feel the way he doesn’t stop pressing kisses to your lips. You’re cognizant of how he cleans you up tenderly and presses his fingers into the skin of your thighs and hips just to watch it dimple. 

In those precious few minutes, that’s all that exists to you.

Don’t be his friend, you know he’s going to wake up in your bed in the morning. If you’re under him, you’re sure as hell not getting over him. 

You’re trying to ignore him, you really are. You start going to the beach an hour earlier than you usually do, hoping that he’s maintaining his schedule. Every tall brunette jogging across the sand sends your heart into overdrive. 

You still see Bradley when you go to the Hard Deck for a drink, but you keep a respectable distance between the two of you. If Phoenix mentions a round of pool, you jump at the chance, while asking Bob and Payback if they’d like to be the opposing team. You ignore the way your heart jumps into your throat when you can feel his eyes on you. 

Every note of Great Big Balls of Fire feels like a stab in the chest, and you hold back tears of frustration when you see some girl wrap her arms around his neck and rock along with him as he belts out the lyrics. You’re a fool. 

You’ve been ignoring his calls about Saturday morning beach runs and the memes he sends during the day go unanswered except for the little reactions iPhones let you send. You suppose it’s only fair that he gets to ignore you a little bit too.

Your little charade doesn’t last long, not truly in the grand scheme of things. Bradley doesn’t put up with you skirting his advances for long–he knows what he wants and he’ll be relentless til he gets it. And right now, he’s trying to corner you. 

And you’re weak for him. You should’ve known from the start that you wouldn’t be able to resist him. You can’t even now, even when you’re only getting him in pieces.

It’s not exactly your bravest moment to be hiding slightly behind Phoenix so he can’t see you (if you can’t see him, he can’t see you, right?) while she stares at you with an endlessly amused expression in her eyes. She doesn’t move to expose you, though.

“What’cha doin’?” Her tone is light, but you can tell she means business. 

The two of you are friends yes, but she’s known Bradley for a million times longer. There’s some girl-girl solidarity, but if you were in her shoes, you might have a few bones to pick about potentially throwing Bradley to the wolves on this one. You wonder for a moment if he’s been talking to her about all this, but again, is there even anything to talk about?

“Just uh, trying to see where Hangman’s at?” You sound like you’re asking her a question, and she quirks an eyebrow. 

She stretches the syllables of her next word out, letting it hang in the air, “Right. Even I don’t look at Hangman with that sort of intensity.”

That’s not entirely true, but you don’t really feel like getting into a competition with Phoenix of all people, over who’s looking at whom how. 

“Sweetheart? Can we talk?” 

You’d let Phoenix distract you for just a split second, and there he is, in all his glory. Bradley is beautiful, yes, but he looks tired. His sunny’s are hanging haphazardly from a floral button down that looks like it’s maybe seen better days, and he’s got dark circles marring the perfect tone of his tanned skin. 

This time, Phoenix just side-steps you and lets Bradley into your space. 

His presence is just as affecting there, in the middle of the Hard Deck, as it was the first time you saw him on the beach. Even with how tired he looks, he’s still glowing just slightly in the evening sun.

“Hi, Bradley,” You breathe, not daring to speak louder, as if that would make the moment real. 

You can feel Phoenix’s eyes on you, the way that Bob and Payback are starting to let their attention drift to from the game of pool. This, you don’t want anyone else to be witness to. This is something between just the two of you. You don’t really need the whole world to witness your imminent heartbreak. 

“I don’t want to do this here, is my place okay?” He looks so nervous, as if you’re going to push him away. It’s funny really, what you know is about to happen, and yet he still looks like this is about to break him entirely. 

Nodding, you let him lead you out of the bar. It feels like deja vu, how however many weeks ago you were tracing these exact steps but making your way towards a very different fate. 

The two of you are silent in the Bronco, and Bradley doesn’t bother turning the radio up to belt along to the 80s classic on the radio. Everything feels like you’re underwater, like the world is out of focus. You think you might start crying, but you try and swallow it down, be an adult. 

Pulling into the driveway, it’s silent in the car when he turns the engine off. Neither of you go to get out, but you know you can’t sit here forever. This had to happen at some point, had to come to a close. That doesn’t make getting out of the car and waiting for Bradley to unlock the door any easier, though. 

You toe off your shoes and let him get you a glass of water. Then, you’re standing on opposite sides of his kitchen, the pristine shine of the countertops and appliances making him feel a thousand miles away. You two are usually tumbling in, mouths locked together, or walking in with groceries, prepared to spend a comfortable evening cooking and watching a movie. This is everything coming apart at the seams. 

“Bradley,” You start, not really knowing where you’re going, but just wanting to break the silence.

He looks distraught and your stomach drops with guilt. 

This is your fault. 

He says your name once as he settles back against a countertop, and it hangs in the air between the two of you, til he starts speaking again, “I’ve been trying to figure out where I went wrong, what lines I crossed, and I guess at some point I realized it was all of them. I shouldn't have pushed you, I shouldn’t have–”

“I thought that that was all I could have of you, so I was selfish and I took it.” You say, the words tumbling out of you before you can stop yourself from interrupting him, but still unable to tear your eyes away from him, “But I was hurting you. I still am, and god, Bradley, I’ll make it up to you somehow, I’m so sorry.”

It’s almost funny, really, the way you’ll look back on this moment a year from now and laugh at the way the two of you are talking past each other, unwilling to acknowledge that your deepest desires could be attainable. But for now, all you can feel is the guilt in your veins, your heartbeat pounding your chest. 

“What?” He’d looked at the floor for a moment, but when you finish speaking he’s looking at you intently. “What did you say?”

Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself and start from the beginning, “I thought that you coming to me, like that, was the only way I could have you. And, and maybe it was me taking advantage because you were sometimes not super sober, but I would never–”

“I was always sober. Every time. I would never do that to you. What do you mean that was the only way you thought you could have me?” Bradley’s standing fully now, not leaning. 

“I thought you drank before, to, y’know, make it tolerable.” You regret the words as soon as you say them, “Sorry, that’s–you’re not that kind of person.”

He smiles ruefully, “I’m still focused on the part about that being the only way you could have me.”

Here it is. 

“I love you, Bradley. And not just as a friend, but more. But I didn’t want to push that on you, and so I thought–”

“You love me?”

A beat.

“Yes.”

Then, he’s laughing in that hysterical way when people are so overcome, the only way it’ll escape them is if they double over in giggles. But he’s trying to compose himself as quickly as he started. 

“I tried to tell you so many times how I felt, I left you all those post-it notes, god, I thought you were seeing them and just didn’t feel the same.”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“The hearts. That’s how I,” He heaves a shuddering breath, his voice thick with unshed tears, “That’s how I told my parents I loved them before I could really write. I was saying it to you every time I left.”

“You love me?” You’re crying now, and he squeezes his eyes shut til tears run down his cheeks too. 

His laugh is bitter but you know that’s not directed at you, “Was the sticky note covered in hearts not clear enough?”

You feel the way your cheeks warm and your stomach churns as you try and defend yourself, “You were thanking me for letting you sleep over?”

At that, he laughs, genuine this time, breaking the sadness that has been building in the air. Finally, he makes his way across the room to you and crowds into your space, wrapping you in his arms and pressing his forehead to yours. His eyes are closed. 

“Sweetheart.” It’s a warning, a plea, and a prayer all in one. “I meant every heart, every I love you, from the very first one I left.”

“I kept them all. In my bedside table.”

Then his lips are on yours. The kiss is salty, reminding you of all the emotion that’s been building for the past few months, every moment you didn’t confess, every moment you assumed the worst, it’s all there. But you don’t want to dwell on that now, now that you’ve heard him say something plucked from your wildest dreams.

“Say it again,” You whisper when his lips leave yours ever so briefly as the two of you are stumbling to the bedroom.

And he does. As he’s undressing you, he says it. He mumbles it against your lips and into your mouth. 

He says it against your bare skin as he presses you into his bed, the sheets smelling like him before he puts on cologne. It’s muffled momentarily by the way he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, but you feel the way his jaw works anyways as you cup his face. You let your legs fall open around him and feel the way he slides his fingers into you.

When he’s pressing into you, he’s saying it. I love you, I love you, I love you.

In those moments between start and finish, when the world falls away and all you know is the warmth of his body against yours, the slight slick of sweat on your skin, that’s when you think you realize that he means it. The motion of his hips is deep and insistent, as if to try and leave a permanent reminder that he was there. 

You’re crying, you realize. And he’s kissing the tears away like it’s the most natural thing in the world, pressing his forehead to yours as his lips keep forming the words. At some point, you’ve started saying them back to him too, choking them out despite everything so that you know that he knows that you love him.

When you finish, it feels like a supernova exploding inside of you. It starts in the center of your body and pushes its way to your fingertips til you’re gasping for air and he fucks you through it. Bradley cums moments later, filling you with his warmth in a way that’s both familiar and still thrilling. 

He rolls gently off you, and you hiss as he slips out. That’ll be a mess to clean up. 

But he’s looking at you, brushing your sweaty hair from your face, and his eyes are shining so brightly that it feels like looking at the sun. You want to look away, but you think that losing your vision in return for staring at the way his eyes crinkle in genuine happiness is well worth the price. 

I love you, he mouths. And you believe him. 

You whisper it back.

tagging: @sebsxphia @roosterbruiser @bradshawburner @gretagerwigsmuse @sometimesanalice @joaquinwhorres @roosterbruiser @roosterforme @bradshawsbitch @seresinsweetie @notroosterbradshaw @genius2050 @peachystenbrough @rhettabbotts @theharddeck @wkndwlff - tagging ppl either by request or whom i feel like are horny for bradley soooo pls let me know if you'd like to be added/removed

#bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #top gun: maverick fanfic #top gun: maverick fanfiction #top gun: maverick #top gun: maverick fic #rooster fanfic #rooster x reader #no use of y/n

[pupyuj]

hey bestie -

https://twitter.com/anan91186/status/1711376017745653848?t=RdRHuZ2otifU5Kstcdmn3g&s=19

any thoughts abt this? 😇

i hate her so bad HER SMIRK... HER HAND... I THINK SHE SHOULD DO THAT TO ME— and i'm making yuj g!p here bcs come on... ya'll know why. sorry if this dragged on i'm kinda obsessed... this might as well have been a fic 😭

hhdhhsdjxn being the dancer that's paired up with her and you're so shyyy bcs how could you not? ☹️ ahn yujin was so much prettier up close, and the thought of her putting her hands on you really just got your mind reeling... so much so that you ended up spacing out in the middle of practice bcs you were thinking of a lot of things and got scolded by the choreographer, which yujin witnessed when she took a walk out of the room and saw you pitifully standing in front of the choreographer with your head down,,, apologizing to yujin about the whole thing and promising her that you will not fuck up starting from now, and she was so nice about it!

yujinnie offering to practice with you more after everybody was gone,, you insisted that she should rest up so she could have energy for tomorrow's practice but this girl was so persistent—she didn't want to leave you alone 😳 "ghosts walk around here at night, unnie, did you know that?" she teased while poking your sides, smiling widely at the way you froze up at the thought she's so 😭 she's silly but she gets all serious once the music started! and you work so well together too, the two of you just overflowing with charisma and chemistry 🫣🫣

"yujin-ah, if you hold me so gently like that, nobody's going to be convinced that you're in control of me." you joked bcs yujin has her hand wrapped around your neck, but really she was just touching it, no grip whatsoever 😭 yujin's gay ass blushing, but you don't notice bcs she covers it up with an awkward laugh, "aha, well... how tight should i...?" she asks, pulling on the sleeves of her sweater nervously,,, taking her hand and putting it around your neck again, "let's see what looks best! go on." you were saying with a smile?? yujin didn't know whether to think you were insane or just purely oblivious 😭

"g-go...?" yujin was so nervous??? she was pretty sure she had the 'upper hand' earlier, what happened??

you tilted your head, smiling innocently at yujin before saying the words that made her knees turn to jelly. "choke me, yujin." seriously, what the fuck happened????? regardless, and despite her flustered state, yujin does what she was told! she tightens her grip on your neck, albeit slightly. you nod at her, telling her to continue on. she does it again, and now it was getting difficult to breathe.

yujin had to admit that you breathing heavily while clutching the sleeve of her sweater was a major turn on,, her eyes darken the longer her hand was on your neck, she so loved that sick look in your eyes that told her that you were into this entire thing too,, she suddenly pulls you closer?? her face so close to yours, eyes scanning every feature in your face, and yujin was so sure that she was going to kiss you... until you started tapping on her wrist. and then she goes back to sweet baby mode and releases your neck from her grip, "are you okay, unnie?" she was very worried :(((

"y-yeah! that was really good, yujin-ah." you turned back to the mirrors in an attempt to hide your red face,,, but it really was too late bcs yujin already knew you liked all of that 😭 restarting the music and still working amazingly together despite the awkwardness that now settled in the air, and then comes that part... which yujin somehow messed up?? so you had to do it all over again, and again, and again... eventually, it was getting tiring 🫢 but neither of you were going to give up!!

getting to that part again and oh.. yujin's thoughts got the best of her,, and it didn't help that you looked way too good in your crop top so she ended up getting way too into the choking part,, her grip was the tightest it's ever been and fuck she looked so hot looking down at you like you were some kind of inferior thing she can just toy with 😵‍💫 you let her pull you close enough to her face again, her breath fanning your face and her eyes so fucking focused on your lips,, but see... you didn't want to stir up trouble at such a time so you tapped out again,, "i think we got this part down, yujin-ah." you said with a forced smile,, christ you wanted her so bad,,

"u-um..." yujin fiddles with the hem of her sweater awkwardly,, she was so different from the girl you saw merely seconds ago?? and for what reason?? guess you'll never know bcs she bolted out of the practice room without a single word, leaving you confused,,,

little did you know, poor yujin ran to a small empty room to take care of her little problem! you, her sweet and lovely (y/n)-unnie, proved to be too much of a cute thing to her gay little brain so of course... she got a boner while choking you 🫣🫣 reaching down to try and jerk herself off as quickly as she could bcs she never rlly learned to calm herself down without masturbating until she got a sick ass thought before she could touch her dick underneath her boxers 👀 you were the one who did this to her, so you should be the one to help her out right??

yujinnie making her way back to the practice room with a clouded mind 🫣 the only thought occupying her brain is fucking you until your knees were weak... and the want only intensified when she saw you stretching on the floor of the room,, you immediately smile at yujin upon seeing her and stood up. "there you are! i was wondering if you went home without me... should we pack it up?" you asked, approaching her and oh you looked so cute :((( with your smile, your soft eyes, and the pure excitement in your voice... yujin couldn't wait to ruin you 🫢

your bag being close to the wall... and yujin backhugs you as you stood up,, "yujin-ah?" you asked with a laugh,, you could feel her dick poking your ass but you didn't want to comment on it bcs it's not like you didn't know she had one! "since i helped you perfect the choreo, you should pay me back, unnie." yujin grinds on your ass slowly, her breathing deep and low,, and see... you weren't about to reject her now that you knew she felt the same way as you did... so what else could you do but press back against her? and put her hands on your tits??

😵‍💫 yuj relentlessly thrusting her dick in your cunt as soon as both of you have pulled your pants down,, you moaning loudly helplessly while yujin pounds you from behind,, her cursing right at your ear about how tight you were, how much of a slut you are for her, and how well she would ruin you tonight,, we all know yujin is huge, so her dick was a tight fit in your pussy but at the same time, it felt so right being filled so full like this 🤤🤤 yujinnie spreading your cheeks and watching as her cock disappeared inside your cunt, only coming out even more drenched from your slick...

mmdhdjkfsk yujin reaching for your neck and pulling you back to her,, her ears tingling bcs of the noises you made as she choked you,, "u-unnie... wan' me to come inside you?? i want to... wanna breed your pretty pussy and make you my little slut... w-want that, too, unnie?" and having to nod bcs you couldn't rlly talk 🫠 yujinnie pressing your face against the cold wall while she continues her assault on your pussy,, just using you like she would use a toy,, slapping your ass until it turns red and she leaves marks 😫

her grabbing your waist and holding you down on her cock as she comes inside you,, painting your insides with her warm cum and filling you up nice and full,, getting pissed at the way her cum leaked out of your pussy as soon as she pulled out... so she fucks it back into you with her fingers??? and it gets sooo messy bcs she uses both her hands, one to finger you like crazy and one to toy with your clit,,, it all felt overwhelming but way too good so you opted to stay still while yujin fucks you all over again,, "unnie's got to come too..." she was saying, biting on your shoulder while you writhed against the wall, fuck 😵‍💫🥴

shsdjhkdkj squirting all over her fingers, and yujin doesn't even stop there :((( she keeps thrusting her fingers inside your cunt as you came, only pulling out to hold you close and keep you from collapsing bcs you felt light-headed :((( yujinnie sucking on her own fingers just to get a taste of you and her moaning in satisfaction?!!! definitely reaches over and shoves her fingers inside your mouth, a mix of her drool and your juices occupying your taste buds 🫣

the two of you definitely fuck during and after every practice after that 🤭🤭 always making up excuses to stay behind after everything is done... and never getting any actual practice done bcs yujin gets busy dumping her cum inside you for hours on end until midnight 😍

#ive smut #ive x reader #ive imagines #ive x fem reader #ahn yujin smut #ahn yujin imagines #ahn yujin x fem reader #ahn yujin x reader #yujin smut #yujin imagines #yujin x reader #yujin x fem reader #girl group smut #girl group imagines #girl group x reader #g!p ive #g!p idol #g!p yujin

[pinkslashersimp]

i had a request in mind!! yandere! poly! will & hannibal after the fall (in an au where they moved out of the country and start a completely new life) with a very ditzy/oblivious but angelic s/o? maybe they accidentally bumb into them and are smitten! how would they go abt courting them? would they end up taking them for themselves after their obliviousness towards their obvious feelings for them? i love your work sm!!!

Thank u!:)

Will wasn’t on my character list at the time this was requested but, for you, (and because i’d like a challenge) i will give you some quality hannigram drabble content <3

excuse me for any errors at all, i’ve been a little preoccupied but hopefully this is up to standard:) i’ve tried to write best i can for will

TWS: yandere behaviour, murder, kidnapping, reader is GN and lowk a fucking dumbass

Yandere Hannigram x ditzy oblivious s/o🌷💗

Okay so let’s say you meet in your local grocery shop, you’re completely minding your own business scanning the shelves for free range eggs when you accidentally bodyslam bump into Will, who was standing next to you the entire time (also mindlessly scanning the shelves for eggs). Which sends you straight onto the floor beside your trolley

Will, aside from being a little alarmed at the fact you bumped into him and fell down, is completely smitten by you. The way your facial features perfectly complimented you and matched your voice and attitude, both angelic, soft, and confident. Your gentle laugh almost had him lost in a trance as you apologised profusely, lifting yourself from the floor and explaining you were trying to find the free range eggs, then asking if he had seen any, then babbling about how you’ll only eat specific ones but you’ve always wanted to try something new and-

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry! I’m y/n, I totally bumped into um-“

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry! I’m y/n, I totally bumped into um-“

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry! I’m y/n, I totally bumped into um-“

“Will.”

“Will, yeah! anyway sorry I really have to go, don’t want my ice cream to melt” you part with a friendly laugh, leaving the store content but a little embarrassed after your fall

Hannibal looks down at will with an annoyed look, granted, he thinks you were very polite and kind to apologise for the inconvenience, but the babbling and ditzy personality irritates him a little

Will, on the other hand, quietly pleads with Hannibal in the middle of the now empty aisle to please please let him court you and date as a three.

Hannibal begrudgingly agrees.

So they both begin memorising when you go to the shop, and when you leave, and where you live.

You see them pop up much more often than usual, giving you a warm smile and wave before one of them approaches and tries to make an alright conversation, in an attempt to flirt, for as long as possible before you have to leave them to head back home

After a few weeks it becomes apparent you aren’t picking up on their very obvious hints at all

Like, at all.

The final straw for Will was when he noticed another man approaching you on your way back home one night, obviously with ill intentions, yet you let him, a stranger, walk beside you and talk to you

To Will, the fact someone would dare attempt to steal you from him and Hannibal angered him greatly. They had to be dealt with.

So, he waits until you’re inside your home, away from the ghastly act hes about to commit, and he swiftly snuffs the strangers life out like a match after dragging him into an alleyway

Will knows he can’t take you and cover up the murder alone, so he calls Hannibal to help him take you and hide away the murder he just committed.

Hannibal is less than pleased to hear and see what Will has just done.

Hannibal obviously would’ve preferred courting you normally, your obliviousness would’ve made it much easier to manipulate you. But, alas, thanks to Will it was now too late for that.

Taking you wasn’t easy, but keeping you in the house was. Your ditziness and obliviousness made it easy to have you believe there was no chance in escaping.

Hannibal is much more distant when you first begin living with them, cooking the meals and offering you a hand on the back every now and again so you know he supports you and wouldn’t hurt you, but ultimately keeping his distance in order not to scare you off

Will, however, is much more clingy, apologising to you for what he did and explaining how much he likes and would never hurt you, kissing your hands and telling you everything will be okay

They both let you have freedom around the house since they both believe you won’t manage to escape them.

#slashers #slasher headcanons #yandere slashers #hannibal #nbc hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader #yandere hannibal #hannibal headcanons #hannigram #yandere hannigram #hannigram x reader #will graham #nbc will graham #yandere will graham #yandere will graham headcanons #will graham x reader

[stevenose]

mover (18+)

day 12/31 of the august writing challenge [link]

today’s word: handcuffs

contains: reader with a vagina; gender unspecified reader; sub!reader, dom!steve; steve’s first time dimming and not being gentle he is very awkward abt it :/; oral (steve receiving); spit; throatfucking; steve calling reader ‘slut’ and ‘bitch’; reader calls steve ‘sir’ once; handcuffs! this is pretty sweet (as sweet as this kind of thing can be lol)

“I need your hands behind your back. Can you do that for me?”

Steve’s breath in your ear has your skin prickling. You do as you’re told, clasping your hands together behind your back. Steve smiles against your cheek while the cuffs click into place. “There you go. Bein’ so good for me already.”

He gets up, leaving you alone on your knees. He moves around to the front of you, fully dressed whereas you’re fully naked. The only things you’re wearing are a necklace he’s gotten you and the handcuffs.

“Where the hell did you get those?” you asked, shocked when he’d pulled them out of his back pocket with near casualty.

“Stole ‘em from one of the Hawkins officers a few years ago,” he smiled, dangling them. “Always wanted to use ‘em for sexy time but it never happened.”

“Maybe it’s because you call sex ‘sexy time’?”

You’d given him his wish, a little excited yourself. You’re prone to trying to get on top or change the course of the night when you’re together, so it’s a little nice to be held back. You look up at him, breathing deeply, watching his hair fall into his darkened eyes.

“Mhm,” he says, examining you. “This will do just perfect, honey.” He pats your head and you lean into it, wanting nothing more than to be good for him. His excitement is contagious.

“Whatever you want,” you remind him quietly, before tilting your head to kiss his palm. Steve takes a shuddering breath above you before his hands move to his belt.

“Wanna feel your throat,” he says smoothly, like he isn’t nervous. You know he is. He hasn’t done anything like this before.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Oh, honey, don’t,” he whines, hands moving faster against his fly. “You’ve got such a dirty mouth.”

You smile gently. “Do something about it.”

You act a little for him when he pulls his cock out, eyes widening at the length and size before looking back up at him. It goes straight to his dick, makes him smug while he strokes himself infront of your lips. “Maybe a fat cock in your little throat pussy will shut you up.”

You moan at the words - he’s never said something to ridiculously sinful in his life, as far as you’re aware. You open your mouth and show him your tongue, greedy for it.

“Look up,” he says, and you do, chin tilted back. He leans down and for a moment you think he’ll kiss you - but after a beat of hesitation, he spits directly into your mouth.

You gasp and he immediately cups your cheek. “Is that okay?”

You nod enthusiastically. “Ask my pussy.”

He laughs in shock and then spits in your mouth again, a hand gripping the base of your skull. It’s much more this time and chased by his lips, licking sloppily into your mouth before pulling back and angling your head towards his cock. “Somethin’ to help you take it.”

While Steve thrusts, you can again feel his hesitation in the jumpiness of his hips. This isn’t exactly his throatfuck fantasy he’d outlined for you a few days ago when this whole thing started. He’s only feeding you half of his cock and even on a gentle night you could take more. You lean forward just as he’s pushing in, gagging as he hits the back of your throat.

“Oh fuck,” he gasps, “A-are you o-okay?”

You want to roll your eyes but you just keep chasing his cock, moaning, until he gets the picture and thrusts back into you. He grabs your head to still it and fucks himself in and out at a pace you can both live with. Each breath is shaky, each moan loud and needy. “Oh, the-there you go,” he groans low, sending a wave of heat between your legs. “That’s such a good - good throat.”

You moan between your gags, drool spilling down the side of your lips, your eyes squeezed shut and focusing on your breath. You can take it, though. In fact, you’d like more. A little slap on the cheek, a dirty word hissed out. You start to pull back and he lets you, about to apologize again when your mouth sinks down to lick at his balls.

“Jesus!” he practically shouts. “I - o-oh, you fucking….”

You gently suck one into your mouth, looking at up at him through your lashes and winking. He groans gutturally and grabs the back of your head again to rub his balls into your lips. “You fucking slut.”

You moan, muffled, and nod, lapping and sucking while he keeps groaning low, barely-there words. “That’s f-fucking right, get in there… such - n-needy little thing for my balls, huh? You’re such a dirty bitch… come on, let me h-have that throat again.”

You lick up his cock, catching a stream of precum, and take a deep breath before you’re maneuvered back onto his shaft.

“Th-this okay?” he asks, hips rutting before letting you off to answer.

“Need you to fuck me,” you say thickly, thighs pressed together. “It hurts.”

“What hurts, baby?”

“My cunt,” you almost cry, pressing a kiss to the tip of his cock.

“Shit,” he groans, sinking back down into your mouth. “This isn’t about yo-ur pretty p-pussy, is it? ‘s about what my c- my cock wants. Good fuckin’ thing I h-had those handc-cuffs, huh? Or you’d b-be tryin’ to take what you want.”

Your eyes roll back. You focus on your breathing again and Steve’s voice, degrading you before sweetly asking “is that okay?” when it’s more than okay and frankly not enough.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum,” he moans, pulling out of your mouth, cock kicking at the sight of your spit falling down your chin and to your chest. “You’re so fucking hot, honey, you wanna keep going?”

You smile, dazed, before bowing before him, your face down and ass up. Hands secured behind your back with the handcuffs. Steve breathes deep, willing himself not to cum, before walking around your backside again.

“Good slut,” he says, hands moving to your ass, running over it gently before landing a harsh smack to it, making you moan. “Gonna fuck you just how I need and you’re gonna lie there and take it.”

#stevenose posts #ns/fw #steve x reader #steve harrington smut #august23

[the-friendliest-freak]

Okay just to make it clear

I don’t hate MFN - in fact, I think it’s fucking spectacular. I don’t have it in me to hate this game, hell I don’t have it in me to even slightly dislike it. I love this game. I just had a couple critiques with the endings. That’s it. That is all.

You can critique a piece of media and still think it’s good!

So, lemme go over what I liked about it, which I did in the previous post but admittedly a lot of it was dedicated to criticism:

The level design is so jam packed with charm, it’s amazing. Each section has its own distinct vibe. The open world aspect was pretty risky but due to the inherent charm of each location no re-runs become boring.

The puzzles make my brain hurt and that makes em fucking great. Especially the ones that make you actively notice the level design, like the one in the playground area. That blew me away when I first realised it.

Okay I’ve held back for long enough so GORDON Gordon Gordon Gordon god I love him so much

The fact that they give Gordon a canon reason as to how he’s skilled with a wide array of weapons - that’s something a lot of games simply fly by, but MFN explains it by having him be a soldier!

On the same topic, they give him a reason as to why he can’t just pack up and leave the second he realises his life is in danger - he’ll get fired if he does (there’s also a secret ending where this happens, which I like).

The voice acting in this game is fucking impeccable istg every puppet sounds unique and distinct

Subtitles I love you

All the animations are fluid and full of character!

The save room music instantly calms me

Y’know all those fanfics for horror game fandoms abt helping the monsters? I read those a lot. This game gave me so much nostalgia for them

The character design is delicious, each puppet has their own vibe and personality that you can garner from just their appearance alone

Gordon. He has a surname now. That is all.

I’m tired I think that’s all. I love this game sm

#mfn #my friendly neighborhood