#i can only imagine them flirting like this and everyone else at the bar just starts staring off in other directions

[blindedbystars]

i reached too many tags so im writing the rest of my thoughts here hope you dont mind!

i loved the confrontation between heaven and tommy - like i said its born out of worry and comes from a good place initially but also because she's too unpredictable tommy can't control her the way he can everything else and that's one reason he doesn't like her

but also tommy believes himself cursed and maybe she represents that part of himself tommy is afraid of and her mentioning his son i know she's trying to help him but tommy is so untrusting it won't come across as anything other than a threat

and i know i keep saying this but i do like the little bits and pieces of her backstory she's such an intriguing character im looking forward to reading more about her

"you're here" / "told you id come back" 🥺😭😭 and "please tell me you're not scared of your arthur" this beauty and the beast situation but where they both think they're the beast "you look pretty with blood all on your face" so real girl i hear you

love that they both are same level of crazy for eahcother they want to eat eachother so bad love it

Heaven in Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC

Summary:  This is when things seem to get better with the Shelby family —at least with Polly— that a drunk client crosses the line with you at the Garrison. Haunted by his past insecurities and his burning jealousy, Arthur snaps. And he snaps very bad. For the first time since you've met, he reveals the beast he hides inside... And Tommy obviously uses the incident to blame you.

Words: 5k

TW: Angst, Obsessive behavior, extreme jealousy, graphic depiction of violence, murder, lot of blood, canonical violence, witch trial, allusions to smut, allusions to blood!kink, Arthur being an emotional and slightly psychotic mess

Notes:

✞ I don't condone Arthur's behavior. Also, keep in mind that Heaven is certainly a bit twisted too.

✞ Heaven is OP's original character but written with the use of « you » (Moodboard here).

PREVIOUS CHAPTER || Masterlist || NEXT

The sound of your heels hammering the cold pavement of Small Heath echoed in the nocturnal streets as you walked to the Garrison. Even though the expansion of the Shelby Company led the family’s interests away from the pub, they still hold the place dear to their hearts and sometimes they liked gathering there for old times' sake. Especially Arthur. Hence, rather than staying at home, reading in front of the fireplace, and dwelling on Polly’s odd behavior at the last family gathering, you decided to occupy your buzzing mind by surprising Arthur at the pub. A raven flew above your head and cawed, its presence stirring interest in you for he had followed you from the moment you had left your house. As you walked to the Garrison, you took a quick glance at the black bird’s silhouette, which was perched on a roof a few houses away. 

"Silly boy, want to tell me something?" You told to it, amused. The animal, dressed with dark feathers, replied with another caw. You chuckled and kept walking.

The white dress and fur coat you were wearing contrasted so well with the dull night that the few people you passed were not sure what they had just seen. Indeed, the moon's glow reflected its light on your porcelain skin, adorning your frail body with an almost supernatural aura. That was why some of them thought they had caught sight of an angel, just like Arthur did the first time you and he met.

When the dark wooden door of the Garrison opened, its noise overcoming the laughter, chatting, and sounds of glasses clinking against each other, a soft wave of warmth caressed your cold face. You had barely stepped inside when people almost all turned around, many pairs of eyes weighing on you. Curious and dumbstruck gazes looked at you, wondering what such a holy-looking creature was doing here — but you did not really care. Your petrifying aquamarine iris swept the room to become familiar with the place before you headed to the counter behind which you saw Arthur’s tall frame. The man was back to you, talking with his little boss-brother Thomas. Awesome, you thought, little King Shelby is here. Sarcasm filled your head at the mere sight of him. To be true, you were well aware that Thomas was always doing his best to avoid you, but it did not annoy you. Quite the contrary, you were more than satisfied with never seeing him — you still did not come to terms with him trying to strangle you after all. Nevertheless, you leaned over the counter, arms resting on its varnished wooden surface, and parted your juicy lips to speak. 

“Good evening, Mister Shelby. Care to serve me a drink?” 

Arthur’s whole being shivered with delight as soon as he recognized the enchanting and oh-so-peculiar tone of your voice — the same voice that had led him to you one bleak and sleepless night. Shaken to the core by your presence, he forgot about Tommy the moment you had started to speak and turned around to face you, the corner of his lips stretching in a genuine and blissed smile. Each time his steel blue eyes fell on you, it was as if God's grace struck him — even though you were living together. The thrills you gave him never left.

“Good evening, love. What is such a delicious little Angel like you doing here? It’s a bad town for such a pretty face ye know.” He almost cooed with his hoarse voice, his hands on the bar and his eyes sparkling with a teasing gleam.

“Fell from the sky and got lost in these streets, so I just followed the light.” Your fingers grazed the back of his hand and went up its skin, leaving pleasant tingles in their trail, until they reached one of the many rings he was wearing. The simple gesture, barely touching him, lit up a blazing fire in his soul. Thomas looked at Arthur and quickly understood that no matter what he would say or do, he held no power over his older brother anymore, “Evening, Tommy.” You said, finally acknowledging him.

“Thomas. It’s Thomas.” He retorted with a voice as cold as an arctic blizzard that could freeze Hell’s inferno itself. He stubbed out his cigarette in the nearest ashtray and left without any single word, his shadow disappearing in the streets as he left the Garrison, for your sole presence seemed to bother him. Well, at least his opinion about you did not change. However, the lack of peculiar reaction from him reassured you: Polly had not told him what happened to the tea party yet.

“Don’t mind him eh,” 

You did not.

“I should probably give you one hell of a strong drink if you fell from Eden… Miss?”

“Heaven Lavey.” You winked, enjoying his silly way of hitting on you as if it was the first time you met, “A glass of red wine would do the trick… And the barman’s heart.” Your teasing grin widened, unveiling perfect white teeth. Arthur let out a long exhale through his nostrils, enraptured by your whole being. From your smile to your bratty pout, you got him on his knees. Each time he would dive his eyes into yours, his heart would quicken in his chest and dopamine would rush through his veins — who would want to keep taking drugs after tasting you? Not even himself. He was already high enough by your presence in his life and God knew he never wanted to sober up from you.

“As you wish.” He leaned over the counter to lay a tender kiss on your forehead. The way his mustache gently tickled your skin made you chuckle. How sweet he was, not afraid to lavish you with sweetness even in front of other people. Then, he gathered all his strength to pull away from you and take care of your order — which was nearly impossible to do, for you were both attracted to each other like two powerful magnets. But still, he did and then poured the finest red wine the Garrison had in a glass before putting it in front of you. Then, he leaned a second time over the counter to bring his face close to yours again, “as for my heart,” he paused, his eyes abandoning yours to drop on your full lips he watched with utmost desire, “You already snatched it, angel.” 

“You’re incorrigible, Arthur Shelby.” You could not help but laugh when you noticed that, as you spoke, his focus was still fiercely anchored to your lips. The urge he had to devour them was almost palpable, electrifying the air around him. Yet, you resisted the need to kiss him, rather bringing your small hands to his neck to fix his bow tie with indescribable tenderness. The pair of eyes that were watching you since your arrival could not believe that you had managed to tame the brutal Arthur Shelby — how he behaved with you was so different from the way he was with the others it almost scared them, “I hope you like this little surprise.”

“You can’t imagine how much I do.” He purred, grabbing your hands and putting them on his cheeks. How he loved feeling your cold skin against his. You cupped his face, looking right into his fair eyes with a never-ending love, and he instantly melted. His eyelids half-closed, for you had brought peace to his scorching soul again, “Lemme clean a few things and we’ll go back home eh.”

“Take your time. Je t’attends mon amour — I’ll wait for you my love —“

“Yer comfy here?”

“Arthur,” Your eyes rolled, amused.

“Want a cushion to sit on? Want to wait in a quieter room?” 

“That’s okay.”

“Mmm’kay” 

You freed his face from your sweet grip, leaving him lingering for more. When he reopened his eyes he could not hold the little growl that escaped his lips for you had not kissed him. He blinked several times, trying to chase away the charm you had cast on him with your sole presence, and reluctantly left you. Stars still danced in front of his eyes because of your intoxicating beauty — so hypnotizing he struggled to come back to what he was doing before.

Waiting did not bother you. In fact, you preferred to wait for hours here, in the comforting warmth of the pub and its hullabaloo, rather than being left alone with your thoughts in the quietness of your house. Sipping on your red wine, you were minding your own business when a man sat next to you, his body collapsing on the stool as if walking had been quite a struggle for him. Which was probably the case considering he was drunk. Only a few people were still at the Garrison, the others went home stumbling or dragged away by a fellow friend. The suffocating smell of whiskey and sweat that was emanating from the newcomer made you wrinkled your nose.

“Hey doll, all alone by yourself? ”  The man said, bringing the whiskey glass to his chapped lips to gulp what was left in it. You glanced at him and simply nodded, not really wanting to do any kind of conversation, “Your glass is almost empty. Lemme buy you another one.” 

“I really appreciate it but that’s fine.” You answered with a polite smile — but even when doing the bare minimum your angelic traits never failed to captivate your audience. The man noticed your strong accent and saw the opportunity to carry on with the conversation.

“You come from France eh? I fought in France! Bloody hell, still got the mud of this country under my nails!” 

Maybe he talked a little bit too loud, or maybe Arthur’s senses were as sharp as a wolf’s, but the fact remains he immediately raised his eyes from what he was doing to watch over you. His steel blue iris shifted their attention from you only to cast their furious fire on the drunk man that was talking to you. His woman.

“You know, I always thought it was kind of sad that all the people here only link France with the war. This is a beautiful country.” You answered, taking another sip of red wine. Somehow, you allowed yourself to talk with the man. At least time would probably fly faster that way.

“If France’s as beautiful as ya, I’ll rush back to it by tomorrow, doll. The name’s Jim.”

You silently replied to him with a light smile, gently shaking your head at the fella’s attempt to compliment you.

You smiled at Jim — And Arthur broke the glass he was holding in his hand. It had been crushed by the pressure with which he had tightened his grip around it until it shattered into bits. Sharp pieces of glass had pierced Arthur’s flesh, blood dripping from his palm, but the tormenting anger that was building within him was so overwhelming he did not even feel the pain. As seconds passed, his face contorted with rage and his eyes darkened with jealousy.  You. Smiled. At. Him.

That was definitely not okay — the man did not deserve your blissful smile. 

Deafened by the sound of his own heart pounding in his tight chest, Arthur swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat in a vain attempt to keep control. To not let his anger issue show. The rational part of his mind was telling him to keep calm, for he knew you loved him and only him. You had told him plenty of times, after all. And he trusted you, really. But the other part, led by his insecurities and his mental instability, whispered foul insinuations to his ear.

Why would she stay with such a criminal like you? You’re sick. You’re old. You’re broken — and no one loves broken men. 

You’re stupid, far less clever and charming than Tommy. HE is a real man. 

You either scare or repel women. Linda told you. You don’t deserve Heaven. 

Useless. So useless… Broken. Crazy, you’re fucking crazy. She’ll see what you are. A monster. Monster. Monster. 

Arthur’s jaw clenched as his mind spiraled into a never-ending maze of whipping thoughts and insufferable feelings. Self-loathing was becoming too much to bear — so messy it had started to drown him. He felt his sanity slowly slipping through the cracks of his skull and the only thing he could to do make it stop was to break things. And by things he meant Jim. 

“Listen, Jim. I think you should go back home and rest. This is the whiskey talking.” You stated.

“Only if you come home with me, doll.” He ought to say, his grin widening. 

Breathless with rage, Arthur felt the heat pooling in his face. A few drops of sweat beaded on his forehead as he shook his wounded hand to clear his flesh from the shards of glass.

“You really should —“

“Come home with me and I’ll make you beg.” He cut off before you had time to turn his invitation down , bringing his hand on one of your thighs to strengthen his point.

Destructive anger flowed through his veins like lava,  exploding at the moment the man laid a finger upon you. Agile like a wild cat, Arthur jumped over the counter and rushed toward you, his shoulders tensed and his arms swinging as he walked.  Earth shook under his feet, opening the gates of Hell more and more at each of his steps. 

“AL-FUCKING-RIGHT THEN,” He blurted out, standing fiercely behind Jim. Arthur’s thundering voice almost made him jump — and it was enough for him to take his hand off your thigh and turned around to meet the Devil’s eyes. You froze on your stool, astounded by your man’s anger.

His face distorted with both fear and confusion at the sight of Arthur Shelby, green with jealousy and maddened with fury, “What the fookin hell did ya say, pal? WHAT THE FOOK DID YOU SAY TO ME WOMAN?” He roared, blue eyes shining with a threatening glow. At this point, Arthur was almost choking with rage. 

“Oh my God Arthur, I did not know she was your woman. I’m sorry! I really did not —“ Jim could not finish his sentence for Arthur had grabbed him by the neck and dragged him away from you in front of the few last clients' terrified looks.

“You TOUCHED her! You bloody touched her, ME ANGEL. ME HEAVEN. I can’t fucking believe it,” He spat, his words coated with bitter venom. Swirling in the chaotic vortex of his own fury, he did not hear the man’s bargains. And somehow, he did not care. There was nothing he could say to stop him anymore. Jim tried to utter another apology.

He had barely opened his mouth when Arthur’s fist crushed his nose with such a violent blow the sound of broken bones echoed through the Garrison. The man, almost knocked out by the uppercut, crashed on the wooden floor, a jet of blood gushing from his face, “Oi! Thought you fought in France. Come on, bastard! Fight me!” He snarled, teeth bared like a wild animal.

He’s going to kill him. That was what crossed your mind when you came back to your senses, overcoming the shock of seeing Arthur in such a frenzy state. You got up from your stool, “Arthur… Stop it please.” You called him, trying to be as soft as possible not to fan the flames of his anger. 

“I AM NOT GONNA STOP!” He barked, looking at you.

He looked at you 

and you saw the Hell in his eyes.

“Heard how he dared to talk to ye? Ah, you wanted to make me angel beg eh?” Arthur kneeled over the whimpering man, almost straddling his quivering body, to grab him by the collar of his coat, “Yeah that’s what you said right. But trust me, you sonofabitch, I’m the one who’ll make you beg!” He yelled, sending another powerful blast to the man’s face with his fists as sole weapons, adorned with thick silver rings. “BEG, YOU BASTARD!”

“P-please—“

Another disgusting sound of torn flesh and cracking skull filled the room. “By order —“ A third punch. Breaking teeth. Jim spat three of them at your feet. “Of the —“  Fourth. Fifth. His knuckles bruised and split under the strength of his blows but Arthur could not care less. All he wanted was to reduce Jim’s face to an unidentifiable slop of flesh.  “Peaky —“  Dislocated jaw hanging loosely. The horrible sight was accompanied by the cacophony of bloody gurgles. “Fookin — “ Jim had lost count of the punches that rained down on him. All he knew was that his body was giving up. At one point Arthur Shelby had stopped beating him, only to unstrapped the combat knife he kept in his holster, “BLINDERS!” 

“ARTHUR NO!!!”  Running to the scene and falling on your knees, you managed to grab his hands and keep him from stabbing the drunk man, “Don’t do that, please I need you. Please, please stop it.” 

Please.

Your voice, like a light piercing the thick veil of his darkness, snatched him from his murderous craze. Waking up by the smell of blood mixed with your sweet spring-like perfume, Arthur stopped in the midst of what he was doing and realized he was holding a knife above his head, ready to plunge it into a man’s chest. He took a look at you, noticing the shocked expression on your holy face, and all his anger disappeared into a void. His fingers loosened around the knife, which fell on the wooden floor with a metallic noise, “please Arthur, calm down… Call down, Mon amour.” You whispered, begging him with your eyes. Silence fell on the Garrison, as well as in his mind. The maddening voices had stopped and the buzzing hatred had vanished. Arthur left the unconscious man and collapsed in your arms, panting and shaking. Adrenaline made you shiver too, but you gently hugged his frame, one hand stroking his hair, “That’s okay… I’m here …”  You repeated just like a healing chant as a few men grabbed the severely injured victim and took him away from the pub.

“I’m … I’m sorry— Heaven, oh my god —“ Arthur stuttered, slowly realizing what he just did. He buried his face in your breasts, for comfort as well as to hide the blood that had splattered on him. He barely dared to hug your frail body for fear of breaking you.  Sometimes, he swore he had hell in his hands and he did not want to bring you down in the flames with him. 

“Shhhh… Breathe in. Breathe out. You can do it.”  You said with a soothing tone. With divine softness, you ran your fingers through his hair, not minding the blood he smeared on your clothes and bosom, “that’s okay, you’re a good boy..” But as you were trying to chase away your man’s demons, a far too familiar voice echoed in the room.

“What the fuck is this mess?!” Thomas Shelby exclaimed for he had just entered the Garrison, John by his side. His freezing blue eyes looked at you from above.  The king was here and he hated what he saw.

“John, bring Arthur home. Everyone OUT.” 

This was all it took to empty the Garrison from its remaining clients. When John gently put his hand on his older brother’s shoulder, Arthur’s embrace tightened around your tiny silhouette for he did not want to leave you.  “No,” he managed to beg between two heartbreaking sobs. His face still hidden, not daring to look at you for fear of seeing disgust and anger in your eyes, Arthur refused to let you go. Somehow, he was convinced you would not go back home — why would you after what you had just witnessed? “Don’t take me away from her!”  He said, a bit more fiercely, which resulted in John taking a few steps back and looking at you, silently begging you to help him. In the midst of the chaos, only you could bring him back to his senses. A brief sigh escaped from your lips before you gently forced Arthur to look at you.

“Listen, chéri. I need you to go back home and calm down. I’ll be very quick.” 

“No, no, you won’t come back.” 

“ I’ll do,” You wiped away his tears with your thumbs, accidentally smearing more blood on his face doing so, “and when I do, I’ll take care of you alright? I’ll keep you warm and loved.” Punctuating your sentence with affection, you slicked his hair back with a frail but oh-so-loving grin on your face. He finally accepted.

When he left alongside John, your smile vanished and you got up from the floor, legs still slightly shaking. Thomas was still standing in the middle of the pub, towering you with all his height, and looking at you with his cold eyes. His chilling stare followed your movements as you walked to the bar and poured yourself another glass of wine.

“I told you to keep a low profile,” He began. Thomas Shelby’s voice was dressed in an apparent quiet, but something in his tone was threatening — and even though he did not display any sign of emotion, you knew his blood was boiling.

“Oh come on Thomas, all I wanted was to make a surprise to Arthur.” You took a mouthful of wine — the much-needed alcohol calming your anxiety.

Thomas closed his eyes for a few seconds and pinched the bridge of his nose to stop his dawning headache, “ A surprise… I hope you like the result then,” He retorted, before shifting his eyes back to you,

“Listen, I know you don’t like me but — ” 

“He nearly killed someone for you. What the fuck are you doing to my brother, eh?” Tommy slightly tilted his head to the side, a spark of resentment lightening up his icy iris. You remained silent, still not believing Thomas was really blaming you for Arthur’s outburst. Of course, you had not reacted immediately, but the shock had petrified you for a few long minutes — but was it your fault if he had beaten the man? Certainly not. At this point, Tommy was just lashing out at you for all the issues his family was facing. It was far easier than admitting his own flaws and responsibility. Visibly infuriated by your silence,  Tommy walked to you and stopped only a few inches from you, trapping your body between the counter and his own strong frame. He was close — so close your breasts were almost pressed against his chest, “Look me in the eyes when I fucking talk to you, Heaven.” He spat your name with disgust, as if he had just bitten into an apple filled with maggots.

“Get my pretty name out of your mouth,” You looked dagger at him, anger rushing through your veins at such an unwanted proximity. Yet you did not flicker.

“You fucking white Devil,” He hissed through his teeth, his low voice still calm in spite of his blooming hatred, “Are you happy to spread chaos in our life? What do you want from us ey?” He leaned over you, bringing his face closer to yours. With his brows slightly furrowed, Tommy’s sky blue eyes were probing yours, trying to understand the mystery they hid behind their aquamarine wonders, ”What do you want from me?! After Arthur is this me you want to control??” He growled. Your heart raced in your chest — shivers ran down your spine, and goosebumps appeared on your porcelain skin, for his unpredictable behavior was starting to worry you.

“I don’t want anything from you Thomas Shelby. Whether you like it or not I’m being honest with your brother. You know Arthur’s emotional, you can’t blame me for that.  You take away his meds, turn him into a killer, and now you’re surprised he snaps?? How. Fucking. Unbelievable! Do you know what I think? Well, I think you need me to be your scapegoat . You need to blame me for your sins. For everyone’s sins.”

“Fucking burn in hell,” He spat again but could not find something to retort properly. It seemed like the skies gave you the gift of shutting Thomas Shelby's mouth. Instead, one of his hands grabbed you by the neck and forced your face to get closer to his. His breath fanned over your skin, as burning as a dragon’s fire.

“Be careful with the Rule of Three, Thomas. For each spell you cast always returns to you three times stronger.”  You whispered. Then you gathered all your remaining strength to push him away from you, his musky and peculiar perfume almost making your head spin.  Not wanting to stay here any longer — and also longing for a hot shower to wash away the blood from your skin —, you headed to the Garrison’s door. Obviously, Tommy’s eyes followed you but he did not say anything, muted by his resentment. Admittedly, he was torn between the urge to bounce on you and the desire to see you leave. You were about to disappear, the cold breeze of the night jumping at your face and rushing into the pub as you opened the wooden door. But your instincts kicked in. After a few seconds of hesitation, you finally decided to warn little king Shelby.

“By the way..." You looked at Thomas from above your shoulder.

"You should keep an eye on Charles. You really should.” 

He froze. Confused and infuriated.

You left. Hurt and bitter.

When you came back home, you crossed your reflection in the corridor’s mirror.  Your body refused to work anymore and forced you to stop in front of it. Facing your own person was something you hated. With trembling fingers, you brushed the blood stain Arthur had left on one of your cheeks.

Mom! Mom, no!!

I’ll fucking kill you all!!

You clenched your jaw at the memory it triggered, but still, you kept looking at your tainted ivory skin as if you were slowly learning to come to terms with what you did and what you were. Your fingers trailed down your throat until they grazed the top of your bosom, where the blood had accumulated the most. Another painful memory assaulted your mind, replaying the aching, almost inhuman screams of your little sister when her flesh had been eaten alive by the hungry tongues of the pyre’s flames.

Only God knew how you managed to keep your mind from spiraling into the darkest pits of your trauma, but you did — maybe that was because Arthur needed you. That protective instinct was stronger than your own pain. That was why you tricked your body into moving away from the mirror and went upstairs to take a hot shower before joining your man in bed. John had probably managed to convince him to sleep. Or his body had collapsed on the mattress, exhausted by the energy poured in his latest outburst.

As the running water of the shower was filling the bathroom with its regular and soothing noise, you slowly let your white dress slip along your body until it fell on the floor, as well as your lace panties. You stepped over the pile of clothes and, without waiting any longer, you hopped under the shower and welcomed its warm water with utter joy. A sigh of relief escaped from your lips as you tilted your head back, water hugging your body and raining down on your long white mane that cascaded down your lower back. You almost managed to empty your mind when, suddenly, one gentle calloused hand brushed your hip. Jumping in surprise, you turn around and saw that Arthur had joined you under the shower. His hands, arms, and face were still splattered with half-dried blood he had not cleaned. To be true, he had been too busy curling up on the bedroom floor, panicking about at the idea of you leaving him after what you had witnessed.

“You’re here…” His gravel voice said, water falling on his naked body whose millions of freckles drew magnificent constellations on his skin.

“Told you I’d come back.”  

He smiled, softly. His steel blue had stopped avoiding you and was now firmly anchored in yours.

 He took a step toward you.

You stepped back in response until your bare body met the cold shower wall.

Your pulse quickened, fascinated by the way Arthur looked. He had something in his eyes — a mix of limerence and pure madness who, combined with the crimson stains on his face, made your legs weak. His breath was slow but yours soon became erratic, even though he had barely touched you yet. 

“You ain’t scared, love? Please, tell me you ain’t scared of your Arthur…” He said, his lower lip trembling as his body perfectly interlocked with yours. A small growl escaped from his throat at the intoxicating sensation of yours curves pressed against his skin. But despite his inextinguible desire, he still looked at you with hesitation and genuine guilt — his puppy eyes would surely break anyone’s heart.

“No, I’m not scared,” You replied, not shifting your gaze from him. The corner of your juicy and honey lips stretched in a small grin, “You…” You paused, bringing one hand to his stained cheek, “you look pretty with blood all over your face.”  

Arthur’s eyes lightened with both surprise and ravaging desire, for you had witnessed the beast’s violence but still thought he was attractive. A twisted wave of arousal shook you to the core when he bared his teeth in a vaguely dangerous but oh-so-seductive smirk.

“Oh bloody hell, angel…” Not finishing his sentence, his lips captured yours in a fury kiss for he could not wait any longer. The need to possess you, to feel you, was too devastatingly strong to resist. At first, his lustful kiss surprised you, and even though you burnt for him l, a part of you felt it was wrong to feel this kind of twisted attraction. Last thing Arthur needed was someone encouraging his violence — but your brain soon shut down at the thought he did it for you. Only you. Your arms locked up around his neck to deepen the waltz of your tongues, sending fireworks in your loins. It was far than enough to turn Arthur on who, all of sudden, lifted you from the ground as if you weighted nothing.

You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, already suffocating with the hungry way he devoured your mouth and the shower’s steam accumulating around you.

As water rained down on your two intertwined bodies, it washed away the blood from your skins. The tainted liquid disappeared down the drain, leaving pale red stains on the bathtub's immaculate marble. 

You kissed him harder. Rougher. Until his flesh dived into yours in an explosion of pleasure and shooting stars.

For you had seen the Hell in his eyes, and loved it anyway. 

Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language.

Each chapter of this series can be read as stand-alones but I advise you to read everything if you want a better understanding of details.

Tagging those who might be interested: @areyenotfondofmelobster @meowtastick @babayaga67 @sired-to-hybrid @shelbyssins @kxnnxyasdfg @adaydreamaway08

[yanderenightmare]

TW: hints of NSFW

fem reader

You have one of those cartoon faces...

So animated it makes everyone else look dull – so much so that everything else just fades into the background.

He wonders if you’re like that during sex as well. All exaggerated – curled toes and ahegao faces – moans that reach the other part of town. Drooling, quivering, tongue out and panting, going cross-eyed from his cock.

It’s all he can think about as you talk. Pretty French tip hands throwing themselves every which way – glossed lips moving but not much being said, just some anecdote from work – eyes vibrant, smile bright. You talk too much, honestly. More guys would bother if you just learned to shut up.

But you won’t scare him away. He decided he was going to fuck you the moment you stepped into the office. Granted, so did half the staff – with the way your breasts bounced on every peppy step you took – doe-eyed and out of place in the grey cubicle you were assigned.

But every single one of them gave up one after the other. 

It’s not their fault. Not everyone has the stamina. You’re a little clueless, after all. 

Shit, he’s been giving you bedroom eyes for hours already, practically fucking you with his stare, but he can’t tell whether you even realize he’s been flirting with you at all.

Your gloss stains the brim of your beer pink – only in one place since you’ve only taken one sip. He doesn’t know whether maybe you’re not a beer person or if it’s because you don’t leave enough time to drink in between words.

He imagines the stain on his cock instead – imagines stuffing himself down your throat, silencing you – making you gag and a little teary-eyed – muffling something he doesn’t care about.

What are you even saying? Something about how clumsy you are? You’re giggling over it – how you’d forgotten your phone and house keys, how your roommate’s bound to be asleep by now – how you have no idea how you’ll get home tonight.

“Wanna know what else I forgot?” You add.

“Sure.” He mumbles uninterestedly, putting his beer up to his lips – letting the cool bubbling soothe the regret of his pursuit – beginning to think up excuses to go talk to one of the other women at the office party – already scanning the bar for other available candidates. Sure, you were pretty, but this wasn’t going anywhere-

“Panties~” You reveal, and he chokes on his beer – dull eyes widening, only now noticing the coy smile playing on your lips. “Are you okay?” You feign a doe-eyed look, sitting legs crossed on your bar stool, leaning over with a manicured hand placing itself on his thigh – cleavage flashed in the bowed position.

There’s something rude glinting in your eyes as you look up at him through heavy lashes.

“Maybe I’m wrong, but I could have sworn you’ve been eyeing me up and down all night.” You flirt cheekily, giving the muscle on his thigh a lingering squeeze – licking your lips at the obvious bulge swelling in his pants. “Undressing me with those pretty jaded eyes of yours~”

Caught off guard, he’s left sitting there – a blush dusting his cheeks a drunken pink.

You lean even closer – so close your fruity perfume clouds his head – your hot breath on the shell of his ear in a sultry whisper. “How about we cut to the chase, hm?”

BNHA – Tomura, Dabi, Shinso, Bakugou, Kirishima, Hawks

JJK – Toji, Sukuna, Geto, Gojo, Naoya

HQ – Kageyama, Tsukishima, Tendou

[yanderefarm]

Ares with a other yandere?

ares x yandere

cw;; abuse, violence, gore, blood, domestic abuse, yandere tendencies

he would be terrible for a fellow yandere because he would want to push your buttons so badly. he would do everything short of actually cheating on you to get your reaction. i don't know if he's really fully prepared for the consequences of pushing you too far but he accepts them gratefully. he gets it like he really gets it to him there's no truer love. so like for him getting the bad end is more like getting the best ending.

oh you're just like him aren't you? you were so good at hiding it that ares didn't notice for a long time. i mean, your obsessive little wife wasn't supposed to give you a reason to snap. honestly the closest you had come was early in your relationship when ares's ex husband was still alive but luckily he'd taken care of that problem on his own. so you had no reason to show your jealousy.

but after enough time in domestic bliss a thought starts to take hold in your mind. every time ares takes a little too long to answer your texts while you're working it comes to you. every time you see people stare at your beautiful wife it comes to you. everytime you take a little too long to get home at night it comes to you. he's cheating on you. you're not enough for him anymore. you can imagine elaborate scenarios of him sneaking behind your back the way he did his ex husband. you know how easy it is for him and how willing he is to do it from first hand experience.

you finally show your wife your true colors one night after a date. someone at the bar had ordered a drink for ares while you were in the bathroom and then when ares accepted it the bastard came over to flirt with your wife. you were certain that ares had set it up to show you how he had other better options than you. you ended the date shortly after that, too angry to just enjoy the night with your wife. instead you waited in the parking lot for the bastard to come outside.

ares who had been in tears thinking you hated him until he watched transfixed as your fists laid into the man's face. you beat the man who had flirted with him into a bloody messy, your knuckles cut and messy from the impact against his bones. he was dying. ares watched you beat a man to death because of him.

after helping you take care of the body the first thing when you got home ares jumped you. he didn't let you clean up, choosing instead to lick the blood splattered on your skin while he rode you in the living room. he was so turned on that it wasn't until the next morning he finally let you get cleaned up and he bandaged your hands. you thought that would have gotten the idea in his head not to go after anyone else. but it had the opposite effect.

if before you were just paranoid and sick now you were constantly being proven right and sick. ares would flirt with your coworkers, he would send you pictures of him at bars with other men, he would proposition other men right in front of you. he clearly got a kick out of it but to you it was torture. it made you sick to reward his provocations but you couldn't help but get angry, you couldn't help but lose control on those men.

you weren't like him though. you weren't content to sit still and kill everyone who touched him, you didn't like killing. and you definitely weren't about to turn the table on him and start flirting with other people. instead you decided there was only one course of action, you drugged your wife. the hardest part was quietly getting him down to the basement but once you did the rest was smooth sailing.

you locked ares in the basement. you chained him to a pipe and gave him a mattress to sleep on. he wanted to play games and hurt your feelings so until you could trust him again he was going to stay in one spot. it killed you when he managed to escape the handcuffs and you had to break his leg to keep him from running away. you told him how much you hated hurting him while he just smiled through his tears and said he understood.

he understood you better than anyone else and even though it was painful he was so glad you loved him so much. he would say thank you when you brought him food and he would cling to and nuzzle your leg before you left him down there. it was different but it was definitely still a form of domestic bliss with how much he loved you.

[aziraphales-library]

hello! i read a work from your recommendation list, the "Heaven and Hell share a corporate party once per millennium. This time someone's had the bright idea of issuing a challenge to the demons of Hell. Crowley has no intention of missing the opportunity; Aziraphale's just enough of a bastard to make him work for it." and i really enjoyed it. it has me wanting for more of scenarios where they like have to flirt for whatever reason or crowley attempting to (preferably shamelessly and obnoxiously) seduce aziraphale. thanks in advance!

Here are some fics in which Crowley seduces Aziraphale...

To Woo an Angel by AgentStannerShipper (G)

5 times Crowley tried to "seduce" Aziraphale, and 1 time he realized there was no need.

nothing else matters like us by Melacka (T)

The order came through on an otherwise dull Sunday afternoon in 2004. Crowley had just returned from a spot of low-level tempting in the south of London and was just contemplating an appropriate excuse to stop by at Aziraphale’s bookshop when the message arrived. It was pushed under the door by a courier so steeped in terror that Crowley could sense it from the other side of the flat. With some considerable annoyance, Crowley fetched the envelope and eased the note out, reading it quickly with a frown deepening on his face. Seduce the Angel Aziraphale. Failure will not be tolerated.

How I'm Imagining You by orphan_account (M)

Crowley gets up, walking slowly over to the bar. An onlooker might be struck by the stalking and languid ease with which he walks, like a lioness to her prey. His hips, so smooth and slow. And he tilts his head back, lips parted. Surveys the room and the man with covered eyes. But there is no one looking at him. Every other patron doesn’t need to look at the bar at this moment, look at the man and the prey. So, they don’t. - (Crowley has fun with a little temptation of his own)

shades of grey by IneffableStar (E)

After Aziraphale's West End debut was nearly ruined by Furfur's espionage attempt, Aziraphale gets to thinking about if Heaven may also be watching them, and decides it best that he go search for any evidence against them. Crowley will only allow Aziraphale to go on one condition: Crowley comes along. or Crowley accompanies Aziraphale on a trip upstairs, but he has entirely ulterior motives.

It's your job by falsepremise (E)

After a night sucking oysters with Aziraphale, Crowley just can’t sleep. Perhaps he should hang around in Rome a little longer... After all, tempting a certain angel is his job, isn’t it?

Gormless Seduction by munchmulch (T)

Crowley grimaces. "Nhnnnnggg, ok, alright. But, hear me out." They flick a hand dramatically. "An angel! A being who can make Holy water! Even if I can keep the whole human disguise thing up, what if they, I don't know . . . want me baptised?" Dagon stares at Crowley blankly for a second before handing them the assignment kit. "You’ll start tomorrow. The address is highlighted, if you get lost and have to call me for directions I will direct you through at least three traffic jams."

And the one you mentioned that everyone knows and loves...

One Night In Bangor (And the World's Your Oyster) by Atalan (E)

"All right, I know I'm going to regret asking this," Aziraphale says. "What exactly does this wager entail?" Crowley grins like the cat that not only got the cream but has absconded with the entire cow. He grabs the bottle and swigs straight from it despite Aziraphale's tut of disapproval.  "The pot goes to whichever demon can get an angel into bed by the end of the evening."  AKA The Fic That Tumblr Made Me Write. Heaven and Hell share a corporate party once per millennium. This time someone's had the bright idea of issuing a challenge to the demons of Hell. Crowley has no intention of missing the opportunity; Aziraphale's just enough of a bastard to make him work for it.

- Mod D

[wandussyfantasy]

I Want You

Summary: Kate Bishop lets everyone know that she wants you.

Request: (From Ao3) I NEED a part 2 of this!! Like Kate cornering y/n at school and begs her to f her cus she can't think of anything else.Ooh and some jealous Kate would be awesome

Pairing: Kate Bishop x g!p Reader

Word count: 2.9k

WARNINGS:

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT READ & DO NOT INTERACT!!!

smut, name calling, g!preader, praising, creampie, mentions of alcohol.

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

“Oh yeah, that is so good,” Kate fakes the moan as she is being fucked by a guy she knew in high school. He used to be known as the hottest guy in school that every girl wanted. Even Kate wanted him as much as the next girl. But now, as he is thrusting into her in a shitty bathroom of an even shittier bar, she can’t remember what the big deal was. It certainly wasn’t his dick.  

“Yeah, you like that baby? I know you love that dick,” he says as he starts to go faster. 

Kate tries not to laugh or respond with something sarcastic like, “I can't even feel it.” And instead says, “Oh yeah, it's so good.” She was home for the winter break between semesters and she hated every second of it. She was miserable. Not because her mom dropped a bomb on her by introducing her new fiance to Kate for the first time. Not because her best friend wasn’t talking to her. It’s not even the cold weather or the bad sex. It’s because of you. She can’t stop thinking about you. She can’t stop craving you. 

She doesn't understand why she wants you so bad. The two of you barely fucked in the backseat of your car. But then she remembers the size of your cock, it causes her to moan as she imagines the way it stretched her. She remembers the way your cum felt inside of her and how she refrained from flirting the rest of the night so that no one else got a taste of it before she could. Then when she was in her room at the sorority house, she fingered the cum out of her pussy and ate as much of it as she could.

This wasn't her, she wasn't someone that craved cum or even dick for that matter. People craved her, not the other way around. Elijah stops thrusting as he empties himself into the condom and Kate is relieved that he's finally done. “Did you cum?” He asks through rough breaths. 

“Oh yeah, that was amazing,” she says as she readjusts her underwear and her skirt. “This was fun.”

“Uh, can I call you?” Elijah asks awkwardly as he tucks himself back into his jeans. 

“No, I'm good,” she says as she steps out of the bathroom. She makes her way back to the building that she inherited when she turned eighteen. Her apartment sits above an old pizza shop that contributes to her bills with the rent they pay. Once she is settled in her sweatpants on her couch, she checks the requests on her OnlyFans account to see if any of them sound like they could be from you. 

After that night when you threw her secret account in her face as an attempt of an insult, she went through her subscribers to try and find you. But she couldn't. She didn't know if you stopped subscribing after you finally got to fuck her or if you were better at hiding your identity than she was. 

A request catches her eye and she considers going through with it now since she is still hot and bothered. She looks around her apartment and decides that since she needed a shower anyway, that she might as well. All they wanted was a private live stream of her showering with a dildo inside of her. They offered a decent amount of money to see it happen. She messaged the person to see if they were available. 

Luckily, you had just laid down in bed and were getting ready to browse her page when you received the message. You only have yourself to blame for not getting her phone number before the two of you left school for the break. But you still didn't want to admit that you subscribed to her page so instead you opted to remain anonymous when sending the request. 

You lick your lips as you reply back and you unbutton the crotch area of your sleep pants to free your limp dick to prepare yourself. Once she sends the link to the stream you squeeze some lube on your hand and get ready for the show. You wanted to pretend that you got the chance to fuck her in her shower so you asked that she fuck herself in there. 

You open the stream and it's her standing in her shower. The water is running down her body and you lick your lips again. You didn't get to appreciate her body that night the two of you fucked and you wish you could now. You imagine yourself kneeling before her. Kissing her smooth skin on her belly. Licking away all of the water droplets as you stroke yourself. Your dick starts to come alive, hardening in your hand as you watch her wash herself. It looks like she's taking a normal shower. Which she might be. Making the experience feel somewhat invasive but because you paid for it, you know that there isn’t anything wrong so you continue to watch. 

Then she steps out of the shower for a moment and you get a full view of the breasts you wish were in your mouth right now. She leaves the frame and returns with a dildo with a suction end. She sticks it to the wall and you almost laugh at the size, it’s not even close to the cock in your hand. You begin to wonder if you’re the biggest she’s ever had. As she begins to ride the wall you pick up the pace of your stroking. A message pops up on your screen stating that for an extra charge you can request more from her. You type in that you want her to moan the name of the person she is thinking about. 

The message gets read out from a robotic voice, probably a setting on her device. “I’m only thinking about you baby,” she replies as she continues to push herself back and forth on her dildo. She wasn’t technically lying, neither of you knew that she was telling the truth. She thought she was lying to a stranger as she thought about you and you thought she was lying when she said it was you. So you continue to push, luckily with no extra cost. When she’s finally close enough to her climax she finally moans out, “Y/n!!” This causes you to cum in your hand. Then you panic as you think that you’ve been caught. But she pops off of the wall and shuts the water off. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t mean to say that.” 

You tell her that it’s okay and let her know that you finished. You give her an extra tip and she shuts down the live stream. You clean your mess and fall asleep. 

You don't spend anymore money on Kate the rest of the break in fear of getting caught or telling her in the heat of the moment. But you spend every night jerking off to her account. Hoping that when you return to school that you'll get at least a second chance to fuck her. If not, you're not sure how you'll learn to move on from her. 

At some point in the break you buy yourself a pocket pussy because your hand just wasn't enough when it came to fantasizing about Kate. Meanwhile Kate is masturbating to your Instagram account. She watches your exercise videos and zooms in on your progress photos, hoping to see the outline of your cock through your sweatpants. Oh what she would give to fuck you again. You have ruined her for anyone else. 

Finally, the spring semester starts and has the both of you distracted with the piles of assignments that they start everyone off with. Neither of you is thinking about the other nor are you having any sex for that matter. But the universe is on your side when you spot her during a lecture in a class with a long list of group projects on the syllabus. The perfect excuse to spend time together. 

Unfortunately, there isn't a lot of free time as you focus on your studies. It's what has always kept you single. It's not until the second month of the semester that you're able to breathe again. By that point you're not even sure that Kate would be interested in you so you start to move on. Especially since the two of you worked twice together in group projects and she seemed interested in everyone else but you.

Cassie Lang, a girl in your Quantum Physics class, catches your attention. Or more accurately, you catch her attention. The two of you become flirty with each other pretty openly. When you start to attend parties on the weekends again, the two of you somehow find each other and spend the time talking and laughing with each other. It doesn't go beyond that. Part of you thinks she only wants to be friends or that maybe she's wanting to experiment a little. But you don't mind the company or the attention. 

Kate can't focus when she notices you with that air headed blonde bitch. Especially when the two of you sit next to each other in class a few rows in front of Kate. She hates seeing you flirt with another girl. She thought that you would come to her once classes started up again. She thought you would make an excuse to talk to her after class. Try to get her alone for a "study session." She thought that she could make you jealous again. But no. Instead you're flaunting your attention to another girl in front of her. Well, she wasn't going to stand for it much longer. 

She convinces your brother, Peter, and his fraternity to host a big party after the big basketball game later that week. A win or lose celebration. Either way, there had to be a party. Peter and his fraternity brothers are all for it. Then she makes certain that you attend by having someone invite Cassie. She wanted to make sure this girl knew that you belonged to Kate. She wanted everyone to know that you are Kate's now. 

Saturday comes around with a big victory for the school's basketball team. Which means that the party is going wild. The music is loud, everyone is drinking copious amounts of alcohol. You attended the game with Cassie and brought her along to the party. It was sort of an official and an unofficial date for the two of you. Neither of you let the other know what it was and neither of you put any kind of pressure on the situation. Just simply enjoying the company. 

That is until two beers and several shots in you start to get horny as the two of you dance with others in the living room. The sensual music playing as Cassie grinds into your body has you wanting more from her and she seems to be willing to give it. But when you gaze into her blue eyes you are reminded that they don't compare to Kate's deep blue eyes. “What’s the matter?” Cassie asks as her face is close to yours, she is still moving to the song but you are standing still.

“Nothing I just uh, I just,” you aren't able to finish your thought as Kate comes between the two of you. She holds onto your shoulder as she dances against you. “Kate? What are you doing?” 

“Dancing, come on, it's a party!” she says as continues to dance against you. 

Cassie tries to pull her off of you, “Excuse you! We were dancing!”

“And now we are,” Kate only spins to face her so that she can twerk her ass against your crotch. Your dick twitches as your body remembers how her ass was bouncing on your legs as she rode your cock with her tight walls. 

Cassie's face gets red as she grabs Kate by her hair. Your eyes widen as the two girls start to fight over… well, you. 

You had no idea that Kate still wanted you. But there's no denying it now as she tosses Cassie into the crowd. Peter and Harry find you to try and convince you of something when they get distracted by the fight. 

Peter takes a hit from his vape before he shouts, “Cat fight!” 

You shake your head as he draws attention to the whole debacle. You take the cup from Harry's hand and down the entire beverage before you step into the fight to try and break it up. 

“Cut it out! I'm really not worth it!” you shout as you pull Kate off of Cassie. 

“You have to choose!” Kate shouts in your arms. 

“Last I checked, you're not even an option bitch!” Cassie shouts back. The crowd's reaction is pro-Cassie and you feel awkward being caught in the middle of this. 

You set Kate down on her feet and look between her and Cassie, then to the rest of the room and shake your head as you walk out of the party. People throw their empty cups at you on your way out for not picking one of the girls. Once you're outside you take a moment to breathe. Cassie comes out of the house a few minutes later. “What the fuck was that?” 

You look down at your feet. “I don't know Cassie, what was that?” 

“She was getting in the way I just-”

“It didn't need to get that physical!” You cut her off as you spin to face her. “It didn't need to be a big spectacle but you made it that way!” You close your eyes to stop yelling. “You aren't who I thought you were. I can't continue whatever this is.” You state before you walk away. Walking all the way back to your dorm building. 

On Monday afternoon, when you're moving from one class to the next a hand reaches out for you and pulls you into an empty lecture hall. “It's just me,” Kate says as she pushes you up against a wall. “I’m sorry about Saturday. I only wanted to kiss you in front of everyone. I didn't want all of that to happen.” She explains with soft hopeful eyes. “I was going crazy from wanting you so bad. I haven't been able to fuck anyone else because I want you so bad.”

You frown as you see a bandage on her nose and on her cheek with a cut on her bottom lip. You gently caress her cheek. “You haven't talked to me in months. When I tried to catch your attention you ignored me,” you state as you pull your hand away. 

“I was trying to get you to be the person you were that night,” she says truthfully. “I didn't know how else to get your attention.” 

“You've always had my attention,” you tell her before you finally kiss her. Kate leans into the kiss hungrily. “Tonight,” you say as you try to pull away thinking about how you're going to be late for class. Kate bites your bottom lip and it turns you on even more. You can't go to class with a raging erection. “Fuck it,” you say as you grab her and flip the position so that she is pressed against the wall. You drop your backpack to the ground and quickly unzip your pants. You pull your cock out through the opening and Kate gasps as she is finally able to see the size in the light. She doesn't even have to touch herself to know that she is dripping wet. 

You slip your hand up her skirt to move her panties to the side but instead you instantly come in contact with her warm pussy lips. “I needed to be prepared for this,” she says with innocent eyes when you looked up at her with a shocked expression. You shake your head at your predictability then kiss her. 

“I apologize for how quick this is going to be, I really can't miss this class,” you say as you enter her without warning. “Oh fuck!” you say in celebration of finally being able to be inside of her after months and months of pining for her. You grip her thighs as you step closer to her, getting your dick further into her pussy. “Fuck you for making me wait so long,” you say as you start to thrust into her. 

Kate groans as you fuck her against the wall. “Fuck you for dating someone else instead of asking me out!” She says back as she holds onto your neck. You slam into her a little harder after that and she is experiencing the first real orgasm in months just moments after having you inside of her. “Oh goodness! I've been waiting for this for so long!” she says as you continue to pound into her pussy. Part of you wants to savor this moment and the rest of you wants to release right here right now. “It’s okay, cum in me baby. Give yourself something to look forward to after class. Mmm the thought of you eating me out has me- OOOHH” Her walls close around you as she has another orgasm, drawing yours out of you. 

“Fuck!” you groan as you shoot all of your cum inside of her. When you pull out of her, your dick is a mess from her fluids and yours and Kate can't help herself when she kneels down and cleans you off with her tongue. “Thank you,” you say breathlessly. You tuck your cock back into your pants. “I will see you after class at my place?” Kate shakes her head. “Your place?” She nods and you agree as you grab your bag from the floor and leave with one last kiss.

[roosterforme]

A Love You Don't Find Everyday Part 18 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: With a little help from Jake, your bachelorette party and Bradley's bachelor party turned out better than either of you expected. The knowledge that your wedding was only five days away and nobody else knew about it was enough to get you through your hangover.

Warnings: Smut, fluff, and swearing

Length: 5500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

"Bar hopping?" Bradley groaned, imagining loud, cramped spaces. "No. You told me we were playing poker at your place!"

"It's too late to say no," Jake replied, taking Bradley by the arm as he tried his best to stay inside the house with you. "The boys are all waiting for us to meet them.

"Go have fun, Roo!" you called from the kitchen where you were making chocolate chip cookies in his tee shirt and some tiny shorts. "I love you!"

"I'll have him home by two, Angel," Jake told you, and Bradley knew there was no way he was getting out of this one. He was being carted outside into the chilly evening air, but when he reached the passenger side of Jake's car Bradley froze.

"I'm not wearing that."

"You have to," Jake drawled with a laugh, reaching for the shirt that was on the passenger seat and holding it up. It was a plain, white tee with Jake's messy handwriting in black marker: I'm getting married. Hands off.

"If I don't wear that, nobody will even talk to me. If I wear that, it's just an invitation for everyone to talk to me."

Jake thrust it at his chest and started toward the driver's side. "If you don't participate in your own bachelor party, I'm telling your future wife, and she'll get mad."

Bradley sighed deeply. "If you promise no strippers, I'll put the shirt on."

"Promise," Jake drawled with a shit eating grin, and Bradley quickly switched shirts before climbing into the car. 

"I should have had Bob plan this," Bradley muttered. "Who's coming, anyway?"

"The boys. And Nat, of course."

Bradley was so thankful that Nat was going to be there, he actually started to relax a bit. But of course that was a mistake. As soon as Jake led him into the first bar, which was filled with college age girls who were looking at him like he was a fine cut of meat, he knew he was in trouble.

"There he is!" Nat called out, thrusting two precariously full shot glasses into Bradley's hands and guiding one up to his mouth. "The groom has arrived!"

He quickly downed both shots since she was demanding it. "I'm here," Bradley said, shaking his head but smiling. He was afraid of getting too drunk and letting the wedding plans slip to everyone. You and he were less than a week away from your wedding, and Bradley was confident that nobody knew the plan.

Glancing around the corner table that had been secured by the others, Bradley saw Coyote and Payback drinking beers while Bob sipped a ginger ale. Maverick was talking to Nat now, and Jake had gone up to the bar.

"Where's Fanboy?" Bradley asked, taking another two tequila shots from Nat.

She pointed to where he was standing amongst the college girls. "Flirting. Go over and tell him you're here so we can all chug a beer in your honor. Or rather, in your darling wife's honor. Never thought I would see the day," she muttered, and Bradley headed across the bar to retrieve Mickey.

One of the girls read Bradley's shirt, and her eyes lit up. "Is that your friend, Fanboy?" she asked Mickey, and he was spinning around to face Bradley.

"Hey, man! Yeah, girls, this here is Rooster. He's getting married."

Bradley inwardly groaned as he nodded in greeting. "Hi."

"Rooster! Like the cock?" one of the girls asked with a devilish grin. 

"Subtle," Bradley replied, wishing he was at home eating a chocolate chip cookie with you. "Mickey, time for drinks."

"Have some drinks with us!" another girl said, taking Bradley by the hand and leading him up to the bar. He quickly took his hand back, tucking it into his jeans pocket. 

"Yeah, just one drink with the girls," Mickey told him with a pleading smile. 

"Fine," he growled, ordering himself a beer. But all those shots he'd taken were already creeping up on him. He stood at the bar listening to this girl, he thought she said her name was Kylie, while she told him about her trust fund and how she was going to get breast implants. 

He just nodded along, trying not to laugh, because suddenly everything was funny. Bradley watched as Mickey was collecting phone numbers. The girl in front of him was still talking about her boobs, and now Bradley really was laughing. 

"What are you doing?" Nat said, wrapping her hand around Bradley's bicep right where his tattoo was half hidden by the horrible shirt Jake made him wear. "I thought you were coming right back."

"I was going to, but then Kylie bought me a beer with her trust fund and started telling me all about her boobs," Bradley said, looking at Nat and laughing. 

"What?" Nat asked, eyeing Kylie with alarm. "Back off, Kylie. He's getting married."

"To you?" Kylie asked, eyes wide. 

"Yep," Nat replied. "Let's go, Loverboy."

Bradley let Nat lead him back to the table, grabbing Fanboy on the way. "Hey, I was talking to them!"

"It's not your night! It's Rooster's night!" Nat scolded. "Now both of you, drink your fucking beers and celebrate!"

Bradley was fully cracking up as he chugged his beer between Jake and Mav. Then he was informed that they were hopping to a different bar on the same street.

"Can we go to a bar where the median age is higher than 22?" Bradley asked with a giggle, waving to the college girls who were blowing him kisses. 

"Heading to a place called The Torture Chamber," Jake told him, leading the group down the sidewalk. 

"Sounds delightful," Bradley replied, having a hard time keeping up. "How much tequila did you give me?" he asked Nat.

"A lot."

"Fuck. This looks like a biker bar," Bradley said as they all walked into the scariest room Bradley had ever seen. Everyone was clad in head to toe leather, looking at them as they all stood just inside the entrance. 

"Um, act like this was intentional?" Mav said, slowly leading the way to the bar. Bradley listened to him order seven beers and one ginger ale, and slowly all of the bikers started to lose interest in them. 

"Where the hell did you bring us?" Bradley whispered to Jake.

"I think I got The Torture Chamber mixed up with The Two Cheerleaders."

"The Two Cheerleaders?" Bradley asked. "That sounds like literally the opposite end of the spectrum!" he said, gesturing around the dimly lit bar filled with scowling patrons. 

"Oh, that's a drag club," Nat said. "We should totally go there next."

But sure enough, before they could finish their drinks and leave, Bradley ended up getting roped into dancing with a leather clad grandma named Netty while Jake tried to stifle his laughter.

"You know what, Netty? I would be happy to dance with you," Bradley replied, just drunk enough that nothing was bothering him now. "As long as you let my good friend Jake have the next dance."

An hour later, Bradley was howling with laughter as Netty spun Coyote around the room. When he finally escaped, Coyote tossed a bunch of money on the bar and snarled, "Let's get out of here!"

Bradley was pretty sure he was holding hands with both Nat and Bob while they weaved their way along the sidewalk. "You're a fucking nightmare, Hangman. You took us to an aggressively leathered biker bar!" he said with a laugh, reaching for his phone to text you one of the pictures he snapped of Netty dancing with the boys.

"No, no, no," Nat said, tucking his phone back into his pocket. "You're not allowed to talk to her. If you have something you need to say, I'll text her for you."

Bradley sighed as they approached The Two Cheerleaders which was a brightly colored club with a pink and yellow sign. "Tell my Baby Girl that I miss her and her chocolate chip cookies."

"Is this some sort of sex lingo?" Nat asked, scowling as she took her phone out. "Honestly, the things I do for you."

A minute later, Bradley was inside a room that looked like it was painted in technicolor. An appealing song was blaring through the sound system, and Jake was handing him a bright blue cocktail that tasted like cotton candy. Two more blue drinks, and Bradley was dancing with someone wearing feathers and sequins, and he was truly having a lovely time. 

It was hot in here, and Bradley thought about taking his shirt off, but then he was being led back outside on unsteady feet. "Can I go home yet?" he asked, his ears ringing as the music faded away from them. "I want my wife." His words were slurring, but he didn't know how to make it better. 

Another bar. They were all walking into another bar. "Another bar?" he asked, and then he saw Jake in front of him. 

"This is the last stop, Bradshaw. Then I'll take you to the stripper," Jake told him with a smirk.

"You told me no strippers," Bradley mumbled, but now he was seeing two of Jake. He was having a hard time figuring out which of the two drinks being handed to him was the real one. 

"We'll see," Jake told him. A blur. This last place was all a blur of sticky floors and pool tables. Bradley was chatting with a woman who had pink hair for a few minutes, and then he laughed at her when she seemed annoyed that he didn't want to give her his phone number. Not that he could have remembered it at the moment anyway. 

"Last call!" shouted Fanboy over the music, and Bradley managed to drink one last beer. And it felt like an instant later that he was being shoved into Jake's car once again.

"You have fun?" Jake asked as Bradley hung halfway out the open window to get some fresh air. 

"You know," Bradley told him, "I actually did. Even that Netty was a fucking charmer, wasn't she?"

"Netty was the best," Jake said with a laugh. "And next up, we got your stripper."

Bradley groaned and sat back in the seat. "Can we not? I'm drunk and tired. And I already live with a superior set of tits."

Jake was howling with laughter as he pulled into the driveway behind Bradley's Bronco. "Well, maybe these tits will be just as nice."

"You're doing me dirty, man," Bradley groaned, stumbling up the sidewalk behind Jake. He thought he was at home, but now he was confused again. "You promised me when I put on this stupid shirt." Bradley peeled off the offending tee and dropped it into the grass as Jake pushed open a door, and then Bradley tripped a little bit getting inside. 

The room was dimly lit and smelled like cookies, and then in an instant, there was a beautiful woman in front of him. "You boys have fun?" she asked with a grin, and Bradley groaned.

"No. No, Jake. Take me home," Bradley said, trying to walk back out the door. "You said no strippers, and I'm not in the mood."

But now she was laughing at him. "Come here, Bradley." Her voice sounded sweet, and she was hardly wearing anything, just an oversized shirt that covered her to her thighs. 

He turned back to face her. "Look, you're fucking hot. I'll give you that. Really, just very nice looking, okay? But I'm getting married to Baby Girl, and she's waiting for me at home. So I don't need a stripper."

When her hands came to rest on his bare chest, Bradley tried to back away, bumping into Jake in the process. 

"I told you that you'd like this stripper," he drawled. "He's plastered, Angel. And tomorrow it's your turn." Bradley watched as Jake kissed her on the cheek, and then he was gone.

And then the stripper had the audacity to laugh and kiss his neck. "Roo, it's me!"

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

You had to hold back your laughter. Bradley still seemed confused, and he was sweaty with flushed cheeks and messy hair. 

"Roo it's me!" you said, reassuring him that everything was okay. But now he was shaking his head at you. "Do you want me to get you some water?"

He just groaned. "Yes, as long as you keep your clothes on and stop touching me," he grumbled. "And here's my phone. See my lock screen? That's my wife, and I don't think I should be alone with you."

You took the phone out of Bradley's hand with a giggle and held the image up next to your face. He looked between you and the phone a few times before he smiled. "Hey, Baby Girl. It's you." And then he was reaching into the collar of your shirt and pulling out your necklace charms and examining your engagement ring at the same time.

"Yes, Roo. It's me. Would you like some further proof?"

When he grunted yes, you pulled up your shirt, letting him see your tattoo and your bare pussy. 

"Mmm, hi. You're so fucking pretty," he whispered, kissing your forehead. He smelled like a distillery, and he was swaying a bit on his feet, but he finally seemed to recognize you. 

"So you had fun?" you asked, taking him by the hand and leading him to the kitchen. 

"Yeah. I danced with Netty for like five hours. She was a treat. Oh, and Kylie is getting new boobs with her trust fund money," he said, kissing your neck between sentences while you filled a glass with water. "And blue drinks taste like cotton candy."

"Sounds like a fun time," you whispered while he downed the entire drink. "Where's your shirt, Roo?"

"I have no fucking clue," he whispered, setting the glass in the sink. And then his lips were on yours, and the kiss was sloppy and sweet at the same time. You gasped; his hands were everywhere. He reached under your shirt and palmed your butt, pulling you against him. "Was thinking about you all night."

You giggled. "Nat texted me a few times. I heard you want some of my cookies." He was grinding his jeans against your pussy, and you were already gasping. "Bradley."

His hands were uncoordinated, which was somehow turning you on. "Your cookies taste so good," he whispered against your lips while he moved one hand to the front of your body. "So does your pussy."

Well, he was already slipping two fingers inside you, and you could do nothing to stop him. You wanted him so badly. You'd missed him while he was gone for two weeks. When you moaned softly against his lips, he tried to kneel in front of you, but he ended up flat on his butt. 

You laughed as he looked up at you, his brown eyes startled as he scrambled to his knees. "Bradley! Let's go get in bed." But his mouth was already on you as he guided your thighs further apart with his big hands. "Oh!" His tongue was stroking along your clit, rough and with no warning. When he sucked on you, his mustache a little rough on your soft skin, you were almost crying out already. 

He buried his face in your pussy, going full force, and you were so sensitive, it was almost too much at the moment. "Bradley, slow down," you panted, but he just went harder. The wet smacking sounds of his mouth lapping you up had you leaning back on your elbows on the counter as your head tipped back. "Okay... then don't."

When you guided one leg up over his shoulder, he spread you open wider, fucking you with his tongue and rubbing your clit with his nose. After a few minutes of this, you were cumming hard and fast. "Oh, I'm close," you told him and he fucked his fingers back inside you. You squeezed around them, everything feeling so wet and silky as your orgasm took over. 

Bradley stumbled to his feet, licking his fingers while his gaze settled on your face before shifting down the front of your shirt. He tried to pull it over your head, but it got tangled up. "How do you want it?" he asked while you removed the shirt yourself. He worked his zipper down and was palming himself through his boxer briefs while he caged you in. 

You bit your lip as he dipped his head to kiss your neck. You reveled in the feel of his lips and mustache as they found their way to your breasts. 

"Fucking superior tits," he grumbled, practically motor boating you with his mouth wide open. He was nibbling and licking, so clumsy and still so sexy. "I'll fuck you hard, Baby Girl. Stay deep inside you all night long." His words were rushed as he grabbed his cock and ran it along your slit, still sensitive from your orgasm.

"Bradley!" you squealed, but he was already fucking you. 

"Yeah, that's it," he grunted, watching himself thrusting in and out of you while he held your thigh up with one hand. "Fucking beautiful. You want it rough?"

"Yes," you hissed softly, excited for him to fulfill his promises. But you watched his face as he pounded into you hard a few more times, and then you knew he was about to cum. 

"Fuck!" he growled, and even the way his words were a mess right now had you excited. The tense veins in his neck and his rosy cheeks made you smile as he lasted all of one minute inside you before he was filling you with his cum. "You feel too good!"

You just giggled and helped him stay steady when he set your foot back on the floor. "Let's get you in bed."

He stumbled down the hallway in front of you, but he did manage to squat down and pet Tramp who was half asleep in his bed. Then Bradley collapsed on top of the bedding with his jeans hanging off his hips and his soft cock out. 

You tried not to laugh, but he was such a mess, it was impossible. 

"Why are you laughing at me?" he asked, trying to pull you on top of him. 

"Because you just promised me the world and then gave me the two pump dump, Roo."

He groaned and kept reaching for you. "I'm sorry, but you're just too fucking sexy. I'll make it up to you tomorrow morning."

And then he was asleep.

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

Bradley in fact did not make it up to you the next morning. Because he was still in bed after you had made yourself breakfast, folded laundry on the bed around him while he moaned, and taken Tramp for a long walk. You found his shirt out on the front yard, which made you even more confused, because that's not the shirt he left with last night. But this one said  I'm getting married. Hands off which was hilarious. 

When you walked back into the bedroom to get a shower, Bradley had his eyes open. "Sweetheart," he croaked, making grabby hands at you. 

"You look like hell, Roo," you told him, slipping into bed next to him and wrapping your arms around his neck. "And you smell like a bottle of tequila exploded in a locker room."

He started to chuckle and held you against him. "I thought you were a stripper at first."

You kissed his chin. "You sure did. It was hilarious."

"No, it wasn't! Jake was messing with me so much, Baby Girl."

You kissed his nose and wriggled out of his arms. "Speaking of Jake, I need to get ready to go out!"

"What kid of hell does he have planned for you?" Bradley asked as his eyes tracked you getting undressed. 

"Maria and I are going to get our nails done. Then we are meeting Nat, Cam and Jake for a winery tour. Then dinner and a club."

"Godspeed," he groaned before rolling over and covering his head with your pillow.

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

You had your nails painted a bold red, Bradley's favorite. Hopefully they would hold up for the wedding which was in just a few days! Now you were finishing your dinner, and your belly was full of mimosas, wine and cocktails. And shockingly enough, you had managed not to spill anything on the little white dress you were wearing. 

"Time to go clubbing," Jake said as he paid the bill for dinner. You were pretty sure Bradley had forced him to take his credit card for the night, because it looked like the same one you had used to rack up quite a tab of lingerie. 

You stood from the table and staggered a bit in your heels. These shoes were a terrible choice. "You're going to be a mess," Cam muttered, steadying you with a hand on your waist. You just responded by booping him on the nose and pushing his glasses up for him.

"You're so annoying. I can't believe I had a crush on you for a whole week," you told him with  a grimace.

He just shrugged and followed you to the exit. "I can believe it. I'm adorable."

"Now, Angel, you gonna be a square like Rooster when your stripper shows up later?" Jake asked with a grin.

You narrowed your eyes. "Wait... is Rooster my stripper? Because if so, that's highly unoriginal, and he's not even good at stripping. Trust me, he's tried."

Nat squealed and covered her ears. "No, he's not your stripper," Jake drawled. "To be honest, I picked out the stripper I wanted, because you'll be too wasted by that point to even care."

"Sounds good," you told him as the group led you into a club where everything was metallic and the music was loud. You followed a hostess back to a private room where there was a mini bar lined up with bottles. 

"Congratulations!" the hostess told you as she popped a bottle of champagne and poured you a glass. Twenty minutes later, you were trying to open another bottle with clumsy fingers before handing it over to Cam. This time you drank straight from the bottle. 

"You know what we're having at our wedding? Pink champagne! I love pink champagne!" you told everyone, and then you remembered that there was something you weren't supposed to tell all of them about the wedding. You mulled over that one for a second before you continued. "Not that we have a wedding date or anything."

"You really should get on that!" Maria scolded you over the music. "Just get married already!"

"I'm working on it!"

By the time your stripper arrived, you had taken off your shoes, and you were dancing on the table in the private room with Nat. There was a reason you loved to go out dancing with her; she made you feel comfortable. Jake looked delighted as he took a picture, most likely to send to Bradley, and Cam was hovering around you, occasionally pulling the hem of your dress down. Which was probably not a bad thing, because you had skipped underwear. 

Maria was about to join you both on the table when the stripper showed up, and you looked at her for a few minutes. She really reminded you of someone, but you couldn't put your finger on it. She was pretty, and Jake had mentioned that he just went ahead with a stripper essentially to his own tastes for this evening. 

Then she started giving you a lap dance, and you lost focus. You were drunk. Really quite drunk. And the music was so good. And your friends were all screaming since you now had boobs in your face. And you felt warm and mellow inside, and then you started laughing, because you managed to get her to give Jake a lap dance too.

"She's so much better than Roo!" you cheered. "Always go with a professional!"

"Well, it's your special night," she told you with a smile. "Wanna learn some moves?"

You screamed over the music and set down the champagne you were sipping. "Yes!"

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

Bradley was laying on the couch watching Real Housewives of New Jersey and eating popcorn with Tramp when his phone rang. It was after one in the morning, and he scrambled to pick up the call from Jake.

"Yeah?" he said, then he realized there was no way Jake could have heard him over the loud music coming through the phone. He tried again, louder. "Jake?" 

"Bradshaw!" came his response along with thumping bass. "No, Angel! Stop!"

"What's going on?" Bradley asked, turning off the TV. 

"Bradshaw! Can you come pick her up? She's wasted."

Bradley was already jumping to his feet and reaching for his discarded jeans, preferring to lounge in his underwear. "Is she okay?"

"She drank two bottles of champagne, and now she won't listen to me anymore- No! Angel! I told you to keep your tits in your dress! What the fuck! Would you just come get her?"

Bradley grabbed his wallet and key and dashed down the porch steps. He saw a text pop up from Jake with a location, and he climbed into the Bronco. "Jesus Christ. Just keep her tits away. I'll be right there."

He zipped along into the city and parked a few blocks from the club, jogging and weaving through bodies on the sidewalk until he reached his destination. If you were being a handful for Jake, he didn't even want to know how hard it was going to be to get you to leave. He had to argue with the bouncer who kept telling him the club was at full capacity, but eventually he was inside and looking for your little white dress in the crowd. 

And there you were. You were dancing in time with the pulsing music with Jake nearby looking like your own private bodyguard. Bradley saw him shake his head at some guy who was approaching you and Maria before pointing the man in the other direction. When he spotted Bradley shoving his way through the crowd, Jake looked so relieved. 

"She's your problem now," he said, holding both hands up in surrender.

"Bradley!" you screamed, actually jumping into his arms when you saw him. Bradley caught you and managed to grab your ass with both hands so you didn't completely flash the crowd around you. You started kissing his neck immediately like you weren't surrounded by hundreds of people. 

"Baby Girl," he hollered over the music. "You need to wait until we get home for that." Your fingers were dipping into his shirt while you licked his ear. 

"But Roo!"

Bradley turned toward Jake. "What the hell, man? How much did she drink?"

Jake just shrugged. "More than the rest of them, and they aren't doing too hot either," he said, gesturing to Nat, Cam and Maria who were still dancing. "I'll make sure they all get home."

Bradley sighed and tossed you over his shoulder, pulling your dress down your thighs and keeping it in place with his hand. "Where are we going now?" you asked as Bradley fought his way back toward the front doors. 

"Home, Sweetheart. You can take your dress off and do whatever you want when we get there, okay?" He carried you to the Bronco, earning some strange looks. You kept waving and talking to everyone along the way, and the two of you were definitely getting some catcalls.

When Bradley unlocked the door and gently set you down on the car seat, you started kissing his neck again while he buckled your seatbelt. "I missed you," you whispered against his skin. 

Despite his best efforts, he was a little hard as he walked around to the driver's side. You were sitting with your head back and eyes closed, chewing on your lip as he started the engine. 

"I can't feel my mouth," you told him before erupting into giggles. "Oh! Let me give you head. I wonder if I'll even be able to feel it. Your cock is big, so I probably will. Let's find out." 

"No, not while you're drunk. Keep your seatbelt on!" Bradley scolded, and your laughter filled the small space. You rubbed your hand up his thigh and over his zipper, and no matter how many times he removed it, you kept putting it back there. "Sweetheart. You're drunk. Don't make me wreck the car."

Now you were pawing at his shoulders and his neck. "I learned how to be a stripper, Roo. You're gonna love it."

He watched out of the corner of his eye as you yanked the top of your dress down as he pulled into the neighborhood. By the time he parked in the driveway, you had your tight little dress pulled down below your breasts, and Bradley's dick was completely hard. 

"Sweetheart," he whispered before easing your dress up again. Then he kissed you and gently pulled you across the seat and into his arms. "Let's just go to bed, okay?"

"Mmm," you hummed against his ear. "Okay, Daddy."

His cock throbbed as he carried you inside, and he wanted nothing more than to bury it so deep in your pussy that you started screaming Daddy for him. But you were on the verge of being too drunk to decide what you wanted to do, and neither of you had discussed having sex tonight while you had been sober this morning. 

So Bradley carried you to the bedroom and set you down on the edge of the bed. He knelt down on the floor and helped you out of your outrageously high heels, kissing both of your knees when he was finished. 

You were biting your lip and looking down at him like you needed him, and it was making him crazy. "Roo, want me to show you the moves the stripper taught me?" you whispered. 

"Yes," he groaned in agony. "Very much so, Baby Girl."

You just giggled and got onto your knees on the bed, and Bradley watched you kind of shimmy your body to a nonexistent beat and ease up the hem of your dress. He stayed on his knees on the floor, salivating over your perfect pussy as it came into view, followed by your tattoo and your belly button. He had memorized everything about the way your body looked, but this was so hot, he could barely function. 

When your breasts bounced free of the white dress, Bradley groaned softly, and he knew you could hear him. "Roo," you whispered, pulling the dress over your head and tossing it to the floor. "Did you like that?"

He squeezed his eyes shut. "Loved it," he promised. But when he opened his eyes, your smile turned to a look of panic as you launched off the bed and ran into the bathroom. Bradley listened to the sounds of you emptying your stomach into the toilet before standing up to make sure you were okay. 

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

When you woke up on Sunday so hungover, your first thought was a strategic plan to kill Jake. You were just thinking about which weapon you might use, before settling on your bare hands, when your phone went off. You reached to your right to see if Bradley was still in bed but found only cold bedding. Then you rolled delicately onto your left side and reached for your phone. 

Jake and Nat were sending your photos from last night, most of which you had no recollection of. It looked like you were having a great time though. The friendly stipper named Tanya was in one of the photos, and you finally realized who she reminded you of. And if Jake liked the way she looked, well he was going to love the way Cat Coleman looked. 

You managed to ease yourself out of bed and head to the kitchen, because you were starving and dying of thirst. Then you heard Bradley talking in a very pleasant voice, and you realized he was laughing and joking with you mom over facetime. 

"Well we can't wait for you to visit. We'll pick you up at the airport on Wednesday, drop you at the hotel," he was saying. 

Then you heard your mom's voice. "I can't believe you had all of those hotel points which were about to expire." 

You tried not to laugh as you made your way into the kitchen and joined Bradley on the call. "Hi, mom."

"You look terrible."

"Thanks," you replied while Bradley kissed the top of your head. "I feel worse. Can't wait to see you and dad though."

After a few more minutes, you wrapped up the call, and when Bradley set his phone down, he had an enormous smile on his face. 

"What?" you groaned, rubbing your fingers along your temples. "Why aren't you making me coffee? And why are you grinning like that?"

He kissed the tip of your nose and then your lips. "I'll make you coffee in a minute. But first, I have something very important to tell you."

You closed your eyes and whispered, "Tell me."

He leaned in close, and you could feel his lips brush your ear. "We're getting married in five days."

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

@mak-32

Five. More. Days. Chapter 19 is the lead up to Thanksgiving, and you know what that means for chapter 20!

PART 19

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[she-is-27-i-checked]

I wanna hear about the 27 and Mrs. 27 “best friends to lovers” origin story. The debauched version anyway. 😏

Ahhh that old tale.... settle down children, this one is rambling....

Mrs and I met at university. My first knowledge of her was one of my new friends, who I had a fiendish crush on, had made a new friend and Would Not Shut Up About This Bitch. So I'm not thrilled to meet her, as you can imagine. But meet we did. We were in the same lectures and always running into each other's circles on drunken nights out.

One of her flatmates was an out and proud lesbian who started taking Mrs to the LGBTQ society meetings "as her guest". Soon enough every lesbian in our uni got a whiff of her and went batshit feral. I'd say she spent 3 years fighting them off, but honestly, I think she's only noticed about 30% of it. I hung around as faithful, extremely platonic friend and heard about all her escapades with everyone else. (I only occasionally, guiltily, got off to the thought of her abs 👀)

Much to my annoyance she actually was that funny and that lovely and that kind as my friend had said. Mrs was still approximating heterosexuality at this point, if not very convincingly.

We maintained that status quo for the whole of uni both dating other people, though her a lot more than me — because she's gorgeous in this perfect, lesbian crack sort of a way - ripped with a tiny waist and big tits. Swaggering around with her boxers showing and a hockey hoodie on despite never playing hockey. And she's somehow completely oblivious to how hot she is and she's funny and brilliant and the girls just fell at her confused little lesbian feet.

Anyway... cut to 6 years into the friendship, uni is done and we've gathered this little group of gays and we spend Friday nights drinking and dancing in a handful of clubs of various degrees of homosexuality. In these places she and I are constantly pushing the boundaries of friendly. Men would approach her and I'd repel their advances by pretending we were a couple — dancing too close, trapping her against the wall and hovering a hair's breadth away from a kiss. We danced less and less appropriately, all out grinding on each other on the dancefloor. We'd loiter in the bathroom gossiping, me sat up on the sinks, her between my knees leaning in a little too much ... and we would never never acknowledge any of it in the light of day. I would stay at her place because I lived outside the city and we somehow fell into the habit of cuddling in bed on these nights. She was always the little spoon, she would pull my arm around her waist as she's settling down. I'd feel like a hero, like a knight protecting her. I somehow - SOMEHOW - I was in complete and utter denial that I was in love with her.

Then one day we push just a little too far... I had fallen from my bike that morning, and grazed a patch over my eyebrow. We started drinking cheap wine at 2 in the afternoon at a Yates wine bar. Our hot, bi friend showed up and started flirting indiscriminately as she did... It all sparked the tinder that had been piling up for years. We still, to this day, don't know who kissed who first. All I know is the moment we did a wall of denial fell for me and I knew I'd never be the same again. When we broke apart my brain started turning at a million miles an hour and all I knew was I needed to get out of there. I couldn't stay over at her place or everything was going to be ruined. I got up, made my panicked excuses, and bolted for the door, dead set on catching the last bus home. She followed because of course she did. She talked me down like a scared animal and coaxed me into a taxi. When we got to her place we froze up entirely, with no idea how to even be around each other anymore. In the end she convinced me to get into bed and we put Buffy on, our comfort show. As we got comfy, hands started to wander. The tension mounted again until it snapped and the laptop got unceremoniously dumped off the side of the bed. We had the kind of rabid, clawing, urgent sex you only have with the person you've been subconsciously trying not to have sex with for years. It's not elegant or practiced but its desperate and we both end up marked for days after. In the small hours of the morning high on hormones and drunk on danger we fell about giggling at the silliest of things. In the afterglow she falls into a peaceful, drunken, fucked-out sleep. And I... do not. I lay there terrified and trembling, turning everything over and over in my mind until morning. And in the morning, she behaves...

It was February 12th — two days before valentine's day.

...exactly like every other morning: Like nothing happened.

That's not the end of the story, as you all know. But it is the beginning.

[baby-xemnas]

One thing I enjoy about Law/Bepo is that I constantly see the debate surrounding “Is Law getting it?” Like, is the man so hot and stoic he’s constantly getting ass or is he a creepy workaholic weirdo with terrible social skills who couldn’t possibly get laid? And the LawBepo answer is both. The man fell in love with a mink at 14 and has not looked back. He can hook one guy, specifically a guy who apologizes like it’s second nature and thus needs constant validation and is over obvious with his feelings in a way that’s nye impossible to misinterpret. Man found his wife at 14 while recovering from a depressive spell and thus has never had to exist in the normal dating scene. Could not possibly hit on a woman at a random bar and be successful on anything but his looks but is, in fact, constantly getting laid cause he picked his wife up out of the snow during his preteens. A creepy little weirdo who built his sexuality around a mink and thus would have a terrible time in a regular dating scene, who is dating his co worker and thus can work and fuck at the same time. Man has a partner with a natural predisposition to swimming and would do great on a regular sail ship but instead chose a submarine so his partner can never be more that 100ft away from him. A workaholic creepy little weirdo with negligible social skills who is, in fact, constantly getting laid, it’s the ideal Trafalgar Law.

THIS IS A BEAUTIFUL ASK ANON THANK YOU SO MUCH

Man found his wife at 14 while recovering from a depressive spell and thus has never had to exist in the normal dating scene

put that shit in GRANITE

constantly getting laid cause he picked his wife up out of the snow during his preteens Crying

😭😭😭

so. sooooo true. i love how he is so terrible when people flirt with him - easiest examples are Monet or Robin even if neither was serious about it we digress - he didnt even BOTHER being friendly like yeah yeah whatever whatever shut up bitch - he is such a rudeass, the type of rudeass that only comes with being extremely married. he is NOT interested, he will not lift a finger or bother with a smile

its soooo real how technically he has no game cuz he dont need it - i would argue with lack of social skills - he does have them he just doesnt use them - he can be charming as a person if he wants to (cuz how else do you collect such a big crew)

i dooo LOVE the thought of him being STRANGE AND OFFPUTTING and he is really saved by being a hottie when he is put in a fucking situation. he has to do very little, he is hot, and thats exactly what he does - bare minimum, he is so not invested - because he is thinking about how everyone is inferior to Bepo - also Bepo will be jealous if he finds out...Bepo..

BUILDING HIS SEXUALITY AROUND A MINK - YEEESSS thats my favorite!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! its the same with just HAVING always been with Bepo ofc its fucking normal that a guy is a bear, why the fuck not. thats a guy, thats their guy - Law's special guy in particular whomst he treasures...like IMAGINE living with a permanent furry since middle school thats ought to become normal for you in like a few months..and Law seeing him LIKE THAT ruined humans for him fr...whatever...People? who cares. he has such a lovely wonder next to him. going thru puberty while your bestie, most loyal person to you is a furry...permanently altered brain chemistry. literally built different

you are sooooooooooooo right its so true and its the best

i love that Law a sexy guy who is completely off limits and unapproachable on purpose - he has sex life on easy mode because he saved Bepo once and have stayed a prince charming, knight in shining armor for Bepo EVER SINCE. he is always a hero he is always awesome and the best

laughing about a submarine being confined space lmao oh of course...you are trapped in there with him, Bepo (Bepo: yay \o/♥)

AND ANOTHER THING THAT MAKES LAWBEPO GREAT FOR LAWS CHARACTER - being in a long time established relationship - A CHILDHOOD SWEETHEART EVEN - makes him Very Cool. Oh you kept a good relationship for a decade and even developed it into a romantic partnership? Awesome. It makes a man complete dare i say! I love when characters are married as hell, genuinely a massive flex

thank you so much for the ask you are so fucking right im sorry if my reply is too chaotic xoxo thank you for loving lawbepo with me

[iamthecomet]

Dewdrop is beautiful, we all know that, he knows that, his pack members know that and above all others see that.

And now imagine that the ghouls go to a bar together after a very successful ritual and dew, handsome as he is, is standing at the bar (alone) and some guy suddenly comes up to him, slaps him on the ass and starts flirting with him. What would a very protective Swiss do in that situation? Of course he would go up to him and slap the shit out of this guy's face.

And the others would just watch from a distance, Rain and Mountain just shake their heads with a slight grin, the girls just watch the spectacle silently and sip their drinks and Phantom/Aeon watches the action with big adoring eyes because swiss is some kind of role model for him.

Apart from the fact that Dew could have done it very well on his own, I like to imagine the situation exactly like that.

Do you think he would get in trouble for it afterwards? From Copia or sister?

I think a few things happen after this scenario plays out.

The first is that Dew would make fun of Swiss for his reaction. Dew can absolutely handle himself (he's a demon from hell!). And he thinks it's hysterical that Swiss lost his cool about it. He's not going to tell Swiss that he also thought him being possessive was kind of hot--he'll keep that secret locked up tight. But Dew isn't going to let Swiss get away with it. Definitely not going to thank him for it. He'll make fun of him for slapping the guy instead of punching him. Make fun of him for reacting at all. Feign irritation that Swiss thought Dew needed help. And, worse of all, he'll look at Swiss, eyes crinkling at the corners and say "how do you know I didn't want him? Maybe I wanted to fuck him and you fucked it all up!" It doesn't matter that it's a lie. And that Dew actually appreciates Swiss putting himself between the guy and Dew. The truth is less fun, and Dew doesn't particularly want to dwell on those parts. Secondly, when Copia hears about it he mostly just rolls his eyes in annoyance. He could discipline Swiss--but it really won't make any difference. And Dew's done a good enough job at that by the time Copia even finds out. Dew's never, ever going to let Swiss live this one down. So Copia sort of feels like he can just let it go and hope it doesn't end up all over the internet. And Imperator? Well, no one tells her about it. Copia keeps his mouth shut--of course it's his job to tell Sister when the ghouls misbehave, but it usually reflects back on him when he does. She'll lecture him--not the ghouls. Tell him it's his job to keep them in line when they're on the road. That he his in charge of them, their handler, they should be listening to every single word he says. And that he needs to toughen up if they aren't. She'll tell him he's too nice to them--has too much of a soft spot.

Frankly, he doesn't want to listen to it. So he pretends it didn't happen. And honestly, so does everyone else. Except for Rain. Who definitely has a video of it on his phone and only uses it for malicious purposes. (Like making Dew admit he thought it was hot as fuck, or humiliating Swiss when he needs to be taken down a peg). Aether also has a copy of the video, because Rain sent it to him seconds after it happened. He watches it when he needs a good chuckle.

[ourtalechara]

Thinking a lot about Neath! ships last night so here's some stuff.

Byron x Harry. What's the dynamic here? Is it my favorite character x my second favorite character? Probably, but that's not an actual dynamic, so let's dig deeper.

To be honest, Harry, to me, feels like the person that Byron would find the least interesting out of everyone in the Neath. If anything, he's sort of like... a constant. He comes in everyday at the same time, sits down, and does nothing of note for a few hours. Relative to everyone else, he's just a normal guy - too normal for Byron to even really give him a second thought as his eyes pass over the rabble at the Singing Mandrake. What interests him most about Harry is how he can live out the same mundane routine everyday while living in such a horrid place and still seem overall quite content. Most people likely wouldn't call Harry Teller predictable - but Byron would. And while there's something unexotic about that predictability, there's something satisfying and almost comforting about being able to tell when that newsboy will arrive just by a quick glance at the clock on the wall.

Meanwhile, any sober regular at the Singing Mandrake is wondering what the hell is up with that weirdo in the corner with all those glowing bottles, and Harry is no exception. I don't really know what to say about Harry's perception of Byron - to him he's probably just that weirdo in the corner with all the glowing bottles. Definitely strange and intriguing, but only sometimes the first thing on your mind.

Anyway, real actual interactions. For one reason or another, Harry flirting with Byron just feels so natural to me. Not that him flirting with anyone else feels unnatural, but for anyone else he'd have to first decide he likes them - for Byron he just does it without thinking. And Byron is taken OFF GUARD. He was NOT expecting THIS MAN if all people to come up to him and make his heart FLUTTER like that. He doesn't even know what it means, he's out here not even knowing what a love is, and he thought that in the off chance he ever felt one, it would come from someone he put more thought into, not from the smirk of an unremarkable human selling papers off the streets. But... maybe there's more to Harry than he thought?

There's also something to how Harry's job is to report the news, and Byron's existence is, well, somewhat newsworthy, but something he'd rather not have revealed. I don't know yet. I feel like I'm still fleshing out the details of this whole thing. I really just think it's cute when Harry flirts with Byron and he gets all flustered.

Now: Cassie and Robert

Bob wants a wife; Cassie had a wife, and is afraid of having that sort of connection again, even though she really wants it. They need each other. They would be so much fun together, honestly. Cassie and Robert are both brimming with personality in ways that I think would play off each other really well. Can you imagine him offering them a gift that was actually hers and he stole it and gifted it back without realizing? Can you imagine them tending to the bar together and Cassie is showing him the ropes? Can you imagine the chaos that might ensue from these two being married? I don't think that either of them realize how much fun a relationship can be until they get to know each other. And that's on top of all the more romantic things they could do. I imagine that Bob starts out each day by just calling Cassie "love" until they tell him what name they want to use that day.

So in conclusion? They have the chemistry. Not to say that other pairings don't have the chemistry, but these are the ones I've been thinking about.

[guitarsolosmakemefeellthings]

I had this idea for a while now but didn't have the courage to post it. (My courage comes in liquid form rn so don't look too close on spelling and all that) maybe I'll polish this a little once I am sober

I thought about Robin and Steve working in some lil bar/club as the people who book bands and whatever other acts come there. They have a lot of fun searching through the offers they get sent by artists. When they're being a little tipsy, they choose based on the looks of the artist entirely. Something along the lines of "oooh they're looking cute/hot, they can come to us".

Because the club is so small the team is pretty much like a little family. Idk maybe Nancy works the financial stuff, Jonathan obviously takes the pictures and takes care of programms and flyers, Robin and Steve take care of the artists or help Argyle behind the bar.

Lot's of the bands playing there are regular visitors. Playing there whenever they're in the area. Obviously Eddie and Corroded Coffin are one of the regular acts. They've played there almost every year since their first time and became great friends with the staff too. (If Eddie fell head over heels for the very cute guy that pretty much cared for almost all of their backstage needs, that's nobodys business but his)

In this particular case the line between professional stuff and friendship blur and more than once the Corroded Coffin guys stayed at a staff member's flat instead of a hotel. Usually they crash at Robin and Steve's apartment because they have the biggest spare room. (If Steve offers his room up for Eddie because he once complained about Jeff's snoring, that's entirely for the sake of Eddies sleeping schedule and nothing else)

Usually these days turn into a giant sleepover with random jam sessions at late hours of the night. They're all just a big group of friends having a beer or two and some weed after four of them had a great gig. Plus they pretty much see each other only once a year or so because Corroded Coffin are either touring, working on new albums or they're simply busy with their regular jobs. Sure they make a bit of money with their gigs but it's not like they're Metallica.

One year Steve gets an unexpected call from Eddie, a week before CC are supposed to play at their bar. He's a little nervous and asks if its okay if they bring along one more person to their gig, to help out with the merch stand and get a feeling forthe life on tour. Steve of couse says it's okay and tries his best not to freak out when he hears Eddie say "great! She'll be thrilled" before hangig up.

See the thing is, ever since the day Coroded Coffin played there for the first time, Steve was equally head over heels for Eddie. Sure metal was a bit different from what he usually listened, but it's not like he hated it either. Plus Eddie knew how to put on a show, capturing his fans and just make everyone have a good fucking time. He even climbed the balcony over the dancefloor once, playing a wicked guitar solo up there and nearly giving Steve a heartattack.

It didn't help that they've been flirting pretty much nonstop since CCs third visit, talking late at night when all their friends were asleep, about nothing and everything. They once or twice even made out after one too many beers, both knowing they wanted the other but neither had the courage to make the actual first step and now Steve was pretty certain Eddie found himself someone that isn't him.

By the time CC arrived at the bar, Steve had managed to pull himself together. He decided to be happy for Eddie and whoever managed to catch his heart, even tho it hurt like a bitch. Imagine his surprise when Eddie introduces him to their new merch girl Max Mayfield. As in Eddies sort of little sister. One of the things he and Steve talked about late at night was their respective "annoying little siblings" that they both were still very fond of.

After that revelation the day went on as usual, meaning Eddie and Steve flirting and earning eyerolls left and right. Robin had called them hopeless, today with backup from Max. Little do they know that it won't be hopeless for much longer.

During their last encore Eddie searches the little crowd of people for one very cute person in a way too bright outfit for a metal show, smile getting wider when he spots him. "That next one will also be the last song for today", he starts "it's a little different than our usual stuff so I won't be too upset if you leave early". That makes the crowd laugh and whistle. Eddie let's out a nervous laugh too before gripping his guitar a little tighter. "It's for someone right here in this room aand I hope I won't fuck all of this up" he says, looking over to Steve one last time before he starts playing.

And yes its a different kind of song from what he usually plays but sue him, he's in love. It's still heavy enough to make up for the lyrics he poured all of his heart into and surprisingly the fans don't seem to hate it as much as he thought. He hopes Steve doesn't hate it either. As the final notes ring out and the applause starts, he's too afraid to look for Steve again so he quickly sayes his goodbyes to the fans and hides backstage.

He knows he can't stay there forever, eventually making his way out to the merch stand with the other guys to help out Max and talk to the fans. The rest of the night happens in a blur. He's distinctively aware of giving autographs, taking pictures and eventually packing up for the night for the usual sleepover.

Steve didn't have time to talk to Eddie after the set, his brain was mush but in the best way and Argyle needed help behind the bar. He doesn't quite know how to function after such an Eddie way to confess, but apparently he does.

In the end they talk late at night again, only this time it's both of them curled up in Steve's bed and if they share a sickly sweet kiss before finally falling asleep, that's nobody's business but theirs.

[toournextadventure]

okokok assuming that birb definitely works out. Can u imagine dragging one of their many gfs with them when they wanna do smth like pull ups or push ups. Like just imagine. Like take Lorraine for example dragging Lorraine to a gym and getting her to lie down at like idk I'm assuming birb does pull ups not on the bars cos pshhhh y would they use the bars but like on some surface where Lorraine can lay on top of it so every time birb pulls up they get a kiss. Or pushups they somehow get someone to lay under them and everytime they go down they get a kiss. And this also gets the person under them all hot and bothered. Just as a +. Yea. That's. That's all.

Birb has tried a combination of every gf to see which one works the best, and Lorraine is usually their go-to for the gym. There are explanations for each and every one of them

Wednesday just refuses to go. Plain and simple. It smells like a gym and she could be busy doing something else, something productive. Birb knows better than to push the topic

Camila is too mean. She's always doing the "bad trainer, worse trainer" routine and if she doesn't quit, Birb will cry because "this is my best, Camila, that's the whole point in coming here! I'm trying to get better!"

Vada is just too insatiable and nothing ever gets done. There's not even any time to get the workout started before Vada is already saying "I mean, there's locker rooms right over there, no one will judge" and "it's a form of cardio, right? So see? Still a workout"

Tara tries to intimidate everyone else in the gym for no other reason than she thinks it's funny. The amount of people, men and women, that Birb has had to step in between to stop a little brawl? You'd think they were a bouncer

Phoebe is the one getting hit on. She's not leading anyone on or flirting, but everyone sees her and is like "oh fuck yes, what a cutie" and Birb is constantly in fight mode because "you better step back or I will swing"

Lorraine is the only one who has nothing go wrong. They both get in, she gives Birb kisses for each pushup or rep completed, Birb gets to feel all high and mighty, and they get out without any issue. None of the other gfs even question it, they just nod like "... yeah that checks out, you two have fun"

[k-n-e-o]

Stray kids if they were to work in little businesses around my city

Chan

He’s the bartender at the bar in the strip mall with the tattoo shop

(I did have him working at a daycare but I figured I’d give him a break from kids lol)

He knows every dirty little secret about everyone in the city I swear

But he’s just so easy to talk to

Will do fancy tricks if you ask him

Always gets the big tips just because it’s him

finds it incredibly a amusing when some of the college girls come in and have a hard time saying some of the dirty names of some of the drinks

Every karaoke night someone drags him on stage to sing

The whole city knows he can sing by now

People come from the neighbouring cities to hear him sing sometimes

He’s always so flustered when some one compliments him

It endearing

walks to and from work everyday cause his work is literally a block away from his house

But will drive to work just so he can offer to drive Felix and Han home some nights

Minho

works at a dance studio down main street and at another studio on the other side of town

he's a very busy man

loves his job, except for dealing with parents

trust me when i say as a dance assistant parents are usually the hardest part of the job

he likes working with the older kids

but they just can't beat the adorable smiles and giggles of the little kids

most definitely doesn't have a crush on the ballet teacher....

might stay a little longer on Thursdays to see them.

chan, hyunjin and felix will stop by on weekends for the adult classes, it's always chaos.

Changbin

I'm sorry but he's a cafe man to me (It was this or tattoo artist and i'm sorry but someone else is taking that.....)

is the coffee god

cannot bake a thing for his life tho

his boss unltimately doesn't let him in the kitchen

but that just means he gets to sleep in longer cause he doesn't have to help bake anything in the morning

(The man doesn't know how to crack and egg, there's no way he's making eclare's sorry binnie )

flirts with everyone just cause

his boss scolded him in the beginning but he brings in more costumers so who would complain?

but like imagine

buff barista changbin

yes i agree

true masterpiece

likes talking with the old lady who owns the boutique a few shops down

she always calls him cute and he lives for that

but also like the quiet times too because thats when he writes his lyrics

Hyunjin

works in the old lady's boutique

she only hired him cause he was pretty

but then he ended up helping her with her branding by drawing up a new logo and doing all of the stuff with tags and things

he’s now her grandson

goes with her into the city to buy new fabrics

always her model

mans the shop when she heads out to binnies cafe, but she always brings him back an americano and a cookie

after work he stops by to grab another cookie

and of course has to clarify that changbin had no part in the baking process

which earns him a smack from changbin every single time

but he loves it lol practically cackles everytime too

most of his wardrobe is filled with clothes the lady has made him

but they're really nice so he doesn't mind

Jisung

Okay so this might just be me but-

Imagine Han as a tattoo artist (kinda hot...👀)

Han would work in the tattoo parlour just down the street.

He either will only have a couple tattoos or a whole sleeve or two, there is no in between

absolute sweetest

i don't have any tattoos yet so i don't really know how this stuff works so please bare with me

such a good listener

you could probably talk his ear off while he's tattooing you and he's paying attention to every single word while still working diligently

did changbins tattoos and the wolf on chans arm

when he's not writing lyrics or tattooing, he's working with hyunjin to design tattoos

if the person he's tattooing hasn't eaten enough before their tattoo he will just call up felix to deliver some snacks

does get told a lot by felix that it isn't in his job description

but felix can't argue with him when han gives him the cute quokka eyes

but i mean who would want to

Felix

works at the gas station right beside the tattoo parlour.

Such a sweetie

Knows almost everyone that comes in.

Has a couple inside jokes with the guy that buys his lottery ticket every week

Can’t help but beam with happiness when that one special person enters

Gets teased by the regulars when they notice.

the store also allows dogs inside and it's his favourite thing about working there

will always get the doggy a bowl of water to drink

loves to pet them

he just can't help himself

if he's being honest, that one slushie machine has probably never been fixed in the two? years he's worked there

and the pepsi one is always just a little too watery

but he likes the ice cream better anyways

always sees the kids from the middle and high school stopping in when they aren't supposed to to grab snacks

but he doesn't say anything (cause he was one of those kids...oop)

Seungmin

Works at the marble slab that is for some reason all on its own in the parking lot on Main Street?

(Like it’s not attached to the strip mall, it’s just sitting on its own across from the strip mall)

Gets frustrated with those tipsy teens who just love coming and ordering ice cream two minutes to closing.

Has to stop mopping the floors to take their order

Then gets more mad when he sees the dirty footprints on the freshly mopped floor.

( totally was not something my friends did.....I was the by choice designated sober person lol)

but he likes having the later shifts cause he deals with less children

not that he doesn't like kids

they're just messy as hell

and the later shifts allows him to walk home with his friends

so there's that

he's kind of sick of ice cream at this point tho

i mean, he's staring at it practically all day so, i mean, me too (I say as i've never worked at an ice cream shop before)

Jeongin

Works at the popular dollar store down on Main Street

and i mean popular

all the middle aged moms shop there and love to coo at him

Expects Minho and seungmin to drop in every night right before they close to pick up late night snacks after their work

Asks them to wait sometimes so he can walk home with them

Some times they do

Other times they tease him by making him think they left without him

But they wouldn’t actually, jeongin is too cute to leave alone at night

Finds it annoying when people leave things in the wrong spot when the things actual spot is literally a few steps away (despite being popular it’s not that big lol)

(totally not something that bugs me and i don't even work there)

he's also a dog walker on the weekends, stops in at felix's convenice store to chat for a bit before going back

————

I might do little fanfics based on these

[starseedfxofficial]

Range Trading Meets Price Action: The Insider's Guide to Uncovering Hidden Opportunities Alright, imagine this—you're at a massive clearance sale, you spot a pair of shoes, and they look awesome at first. You grab them, feel victorious, only to realize later they're two sizes too small, and now you're stuck walking like a penguin. Sounds familiar, right? Trading mistakes can feel just like that: you see a shiny opportunity, jump on it, and end up with painful regret. Well, buckle in—we're diving deep into range trading and price action to make sure you avoid those pitfalls and, instead, glide gracefully through the markets (penguin-free). The Big Picture: Why Price Action Fits Like a Glove in Range Trading First, let’s get the basics out of the way—but not the “ABC” kind. We’re talking about the hidden complexities of range trading and price action—that sweet combo that, when done right, can make a trader look like a wizard. Range trading is all about recognizing that the market’s behaving like a grumpy toddler, not willing to go anywhere big—just bouncing back and forth. Here’s where price action comes in—think of it like a secret decoder ring to make sense of all that bouncing. Price action helps identify potential entry and exit points within the range. Forget lagging indicators; we’re talking about looking at candlesticks, the pure language of the market—like reading the tea leaves, but better (and less superstition involved). When price touches the edges of the range—those magical levels of support and resistance—that’s when a smart trader swoops in. Why Most Traders Get It Wrong (And How You Can Avoid It) Listen, most traders go wrong here because they fall for the bait. It's like seeing free pizza at a party—you think it's a win, but there's always a catch. They mistake breakouts for a new trend instead of a "fakeout" (when the market just pokes its head up for a bit of fresh air and then promptly retreats). Successful range trading means recognizing the difference—it's not every day the market truly escapes the range. Here's where price action—our reliable friend—comes to the rescue. Watching candlestick patterns like the infamous "fake breakout" wick or a cluster of dojis helps you stay on the right side of the market. Remember, staying ahead in Forex is like surviving an escape room—you need clues to make the right moves. The Forgotten Strategy That Outsmarted the Pros I’m about to share a strategy that could very well be that extra pair of socks you need when trekking through Forex’s slippery slopes. I call it the "Trap and Snatch". Here’s how it goes: when price breaks out of the range, you’re not going to jump on the bandwagon (that’s what everyone else does). Instead, you’ll calmly wait for the breakout to come back into the range—the moment everyone else is sweating. This is where you place your bet. This isn’t just trading; it’s reverse psychology—outsmarting everyone who rushed in. Some might call it playing dirty, but I'd say it's just knowing the game better. But here’s where things get ninja-level—you’re not going to take this trade just off of one pattern. You’ll look for confluence. Are we at a key resistance or support? Is the RSI showing a divergence? It’s like putting multiple locks on the door—if every lock fits, you know it's the real deal. And that’s where range trading transforms into something far more tactical, almost surgical. You’re taking what most people think is random noise and turning it into predictable action. Spotting the "Range Junkie" Patterns: The Hidden Gems of Price Action If you’re trading ranges, you’re going to want to understand the common price action patterns that signal opportunity. Imagine you're at the carnival and know which games are rigged and which actually offer a prize—this is that kind of insider knowledge. Patterns like the "pin bar" or the "inside bar" formation at range extremes are your clues. The pin bar shows rejection—basically, the market flirted with breaking the range but backed off last minute, like that friend who always says they’ll come to the party but never does. Take advantage of this inconsistency—ride the pin bar. And inside bars? They’re like a pause in the action. A potential buildup, like the market's just taking a deep breath. When they form at key levels within a range, it's a chance to make your move when the breath gets released. Ninja Tactics for Precision Entries and Exits Let's be real—timing your entries and exits when trading ranges can feel like trying to parallel park in a tight spot on a busy street. It’s doable, but there’s definitely an art to it. A tactic that’s worked wonders for range trading is dropping down to a lower timeframe to refine your entry. Say you're eyeing a potential reversal at the top of the range on the 4-hour chart. Instead of just clicking 'buy' or 'sell' right away—which feels a bit like showing up to an exam without studying—you drop down to the 15-minute or even 5-minute chart to confirm. Look for tight consolidations or double tops/bottoms—the more signs, the better. For exits, use price action signals and dynamic tools like the ATR (Average True Range) to decide if things are fizzling out. Exiting can be trickier than entering—kind of like getting off a mechanical bull gracefully. Price action helps you gauge when momentum is drying up so you can lock in profits like the pro you are. The Contrarian Edge: How Price Action Keeps You a Step Ahead Range trading is about thinking against the herd. If it feels like everyone else is jumping in, take a step back. Picture it like you're watching people line up for a new phone—most are just blindly following. But the real money is made in the moments where you zig while others zag. This is where contrarian approaches come into play. Say you’re seeing a long wick trying to break out of a range. The herd is thinking, "Hey, breakout!" but you’re thinking, "I’ve seen this before." And more often than not, you’ll be right—the market loves to lure in overexcited traders only to turn the other way. Common Pitfalls: Why Range Trading Isn’t For Everyone Don’t be fooled—range trading takes a cool head and the patience of a parent with a three-year-old in a toy store. Most traders mess up because they start moving their stop-loss when price gets close—it's like playing Jenga and deciding to pull out that risky block because YOLO. Trust your analysis, set your levels, and let the market do its thing. The moment you start second-guessing your setups is the moment the market smells your fear and takes advantage. Another common pitfall? Over-leveraging. I get it—being greedy in Forex is almost as natural as grabbing that second slice of cake at a birthday party. But here's the truth: playing it safe and small keeps you in the game longer. Think of it like staying sober at a party full of drunk people—you get to leave on your own two feet while others are being carried out. Exclusive Insights: How You Can Stay Informed Want to get insider tips and avoid those common range trading mistakes? Then check out our latest economic indicators and Forex news for free at StarseedFX's Forex News Today. You’ll get real-time updates so you’re not caught flat-footed when big news rocks the market. Also, our Free Forex Courses will teach you these ninja tactics in detail—because nothing beats having the right tools at your disposal. And speaking of tools, use our Smart Trading Tool to automate some of the heavy lifting—like calculating lot sizes, which helps you focus on actual strategy rather than punching numbers. And to keep your head in the game without going off the rails, our Free Trading Journal can help you track metrics and learn from your trades—because growth happens when you reflect and refine. Wrapping Up: It’s All About Staying Consistent Range trading with price action is one of those techniques that, once mastered, turns trading from a wild guessing game into a carefully orchestrated strategy. The truth is, anyone can look at charts, but not everyone can extract the true story the market is telling. If you’re willing to read the signs and exercise discipline, you’ll find yourself consistently profiting where most traders struggle. Ready to take on range trading like a pro? Don’t hesitate—use what you’ve learned today, and let’s get you confidently conquering those ranges and snatching those opportunities when they arise. And hey, don’t forget to join our StarseedFX community where we share live trading ideas, elite tactics, and insights from the trenches. —————– Image Credits: Cover image at the top is AI-generated   Read the full article

[ask-hannah-blog]

Is it Saturday yet?

I called everyone up, and marched over to The Big Nose Bar.

And of course she’s nowhere to be seen. We ask ever snot nosed weirdo in the bar, and eventually get taken down to the basement level. There they have some kind of sex lounge.

Yes seriously, it was like a Persian harem down there, with pillows and rugs. Goofs we’re riding guys, and girls, and it was just about the most shocking thing I had ever seen. My exposure therapy the other day apparently did help, not when I saw these goof pulling their noses off of a snot covered dick, or snorting up semen. Not when their were giving foot jobs with their big stupid feet, and certainly not when they were penetrating eachother with their noses.

So we’re turning people over trying to find Brittany. Wondering what she could possibly look like.

Then we find this big goof goddess lounging on a mountain of pillows, naked, 300Ibs at least. She’s got these suction cups on her breasts with four tubes coming off of each, and laying around her sucking the juice from her breasts like college students at a keger are the goofs. Their sucking on their tubes like it’s a hooka, gurgling the juice, swapping it between their mouths, spitting it on eachother and in the middle of all of it is Brittany!

She’s a mess. Her nose is swollen and dominating her face. She’s got a unibrow, her forehead looks more like a fivehead, large ears, and a pair of big sweaty feet. Not to mention her nipples are the size of shot glasses.

“Hey guys!” She grins at us stupidly and pats the soaked rug next to her. “Did’ja come to get goofed up with me?”

So I’m furious, grab her hand and start pulling her up and out of there. She’s chuckling the whole time like this is all the funniest thing ever. Heather gets her covered with a blanket. We’re upstairs and heading for the door when this body builder goof tries to stops us, asks Brittany if we’re bothering her. Brittany just Hyuk’s and says “naw we’re allowed getting goofed together.”

So Jen-Jen bites the bouncer on the ass, and we’re all out of there.

The police arrive a few moments later and take our reports.

Then the owner comes out. The “Mommy” of this particular nest. Just the tackiest milf you’ve ever seen in leather pants, a sheer cami, and heels even I wouldn’t wear. She had breasts that should be illegal for her own safety if nothing else. Just ridiculously huge.

She comes out and I know we’re fucked. She knows the officers by name, and is acting all sweet and confused. They’re eating it up, letting her touch them, and flirt with them.

We raise a stink so the finally cut the crap and ask Brittany if she ordered goof juice and had it’s effects explained to her. She’s useless and doesn’t offer anything up other than she wants to go back in.

The officers ask if she wants to press charges, she says no, and that’s it. They tell us to head home, and that they’re going to investigate. I can only imagine what that means, since the owner lead the two of the in with her hand on their ass.

What the hell?

I got her to come home with me, and am gonna let her crash in the guest room while we notify her family, but wtf?

Isn’t there a hero that can do something about this place?

[beelzlikes]

You know what I do to pass the time? I go driving. I waste gas and pollute the air and spend money refueling just so I can listen to music while moving.

I don't want to download a dating app. You have to fill out "about me" profiles and take pictures of yourself, yuck. And there are only two types of people who use dating apps: the desperate or spam bots. You click on someone's picture and it's obviously a stock photo. And all the real people are - most of the time - freaks.

I wouldn't want to date using an app for the same reason I don't want to meet people in bars. I don't hang out with people who hang out in bars... I'm not going to meet someone I like with my interests doing something I don't like in places I don't frequent unless I force myself to.

So I guess it just comes down to getting out of the house more. But I have no reason to leave the house, I don't do anything. I don't even know where I would start. And THEN let's say by some chance I meet someone I do find attractive... There's a 75% likelihood that they aren't going to like me back. I hate those odds. It just feels like putting so much work into something I would ideally want to evolve over time.

And even when I leave the house, I have to concentrate and focus so hard on my tasks and objectives that I do come off as aloof, curt, and uncaring. So much of my brain power is being used simply to make sure I'm doing the bare minimum and not looking like a goof. You're telling me I also have to interpret if this person is flirting or just being nice? Of course I'm going to defer to "just being nice" most of the time, it's an easier cognitive load to deal with.

So much easier to think "everybody knows already/nobody cares". Those are my two mantras.

Want to send a funny meme to a friend? "They've probably already seen it." Something mildly interesting happened in line at the grocery store today, and you want to tell someone about it? "Nobody cares." Maybe we could go see a movie? "They've already seen it without you." Feeling hurt and lonely? "So is everyone else, idiot, you're not special. Nobody. Cares."

So I don't text my friends, and I don't ask them to go do things with me. What makes me think I would change if I had a significant other? Wouldn't I just ruin that too?

I can no longer imagine a future in which I find happiness.