#it i could save time in a bottle the first time i’d like to do ks to save every day til eternity passes away just to spend them with you

[two-sheep-in-one-wolfs-clothing]

kanej fans listen to jim croce. especially time in a bottle and walkin back to georgia and i’ll have to say i love you in a song and i got a name and literally any other song bECAUSE JIM CROCE IS SO KANEJ CODED

[kingkatsuki]

— twist of fate

This was supposed to be the happiest day of your life, marked on your calendar for the best part of a year and the start of a beautiful future. You’d met the love of your life, the man you were going to marry and grow old with, and you’d made it through navigating the torturous dating scene. The awkward first dates and first kiss, and the first ‘I love yous’, and yet here you were drinking on a rooftop with the Number Two Pro-Hero Dynamight.

I promised I’d post some more Bakugou cause it has been a little while and I do miss him! I actually wrote this for his birthday, but then I ended up posting the collab fic instead so I never got to write the smut part but I hope someone enjoys it anyway.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Warnings: breakups (not with Bakugou), mutual comfort, alcohol.

Word Count: 1.8k.

This was supposed to be the happiest day of your life, marked on your calendar for the best part of a year and the start of a beautiful future. You’d met the love of your life, the man you were going to marry and grow old with, and you’d made it through navigating the torturous dating scene. The awkward first dates and first kiss, and the first ‘I love yous’.

I love you— what a big fucking lie.

You scoffed as you took a large gulp from the champagne bottle you were holding, grabbed from the bar at your now abandoned reception as you looked out at the view of Musutafu at night. The viewing point was somewhere you used to visit with your fiance, and to think it was the first place you’d decided to go when you found out he’d left you at the altar was borderline morbid. But considering your perfect life had now crumbled around you, you could forgive yourself for the psychological torment.

Kicking your heels off as your feet began to ache, letting them drop to the floor as you swung your legs over the ledge. Your mothers voice ringing in your ears as you sat on the grass, “Your pretty dress is ruined!” Not that you’d have any use for it now, your perfect life was pretty much gone.

“You know how dangerous it is drinkin’ so close to the edge?” You rolled your eyes in irritation at the sound, turning your head ready to shot some expletives in their direction before your words caught at the back of your throat.

You had to do a double take to make sure you were actually seeing what you were seeing, and that you weren’t this inhibriated already. The Number Two Pro-Hero Dynamight stood a few feet away, arms crossed with his face set in a a heavy glare. But he didn’t appear to have his gauntlets with him, even though his belt was still full of grenades and his mask sat over his eyes. Instead he was covered in a thick black hoodie that was zipped to cover the garish orange X that splashed across his chest.

“Well it must be my lucky night, I’ve got a Pro-Hero here to save me.” Sarcasm oozed through your tone as you held your large bottle up in a mock cheers to the Number Two hero that had appeared over the hill.

Besides the randy teenagers that used to frequent the area to make out and get high, this side of Musutafu was usually pretty abandoned so you were disappointed to see you were no longer alone.

“I’m off the clock, sweetheart.” He sneered back, shaking his head, “And I shouldn’t have to waste my time saving stupid people like you.”

“So don’t save me then,” You shrugged, turning back to face the city as the sun slowly fell over the horizon.

You expected him to walk away and leave you there, probably on a patrol to catch the kids that used the area to get high. But what you didn’t expect is for him to take a seat in the dirty grass beside you.

“Thought you couldn’t waste your time.”

“How’s it gonna look if I see your face all over the papers tomorrow with my face under it sayin’ I should’a saved you?”

You turned to face him, noticing the dark rings of charcoal around his eyes filled in from where his mask sat. A three-day strubble cast a shadow across his jawline and you had to take another sip of champagne to pull your attention away.

“I didn’t think you cared what the media said about you, Dynamight.” You laughed, remembering a post you’d seen online earlier that month where he’d shoved a reporter to the ground at the scene of a crime and broke his camera.

“I don’t.” He scoffs, “But I ain’t a total fucking asshole.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” You laugh, gulping another mouthful of champagne as you look down at the city lights below, “You make it your business to go around breaking cameras?”

“Very fuckin’ funny.” Bakugou sneers, “That guy deserved it. Tryin’ to take pictures in the middle of a fight— he’s lucky I saved him or he’d have come out far worse than his shitty camera.”

“Wow, you’re a real hero, Dynamight.” You teased back.

“So you gonna explain why you’re up here in—”

“Oh, why am I wearing a wedding dress and drinking alone?” You smiled bitterly, shaking your head. “My fiancé decided to stick his dick into my best friend.”

Bakugou’s eyes widened beneath this mask at the blunt statement before he shook his head, keeping his attention ahead to the bright lights in front of you.

“Shit.” He muttered beneath his breath.

You scoff, taking another swig of champagne, “So I guess you could say I’m celebrating.”

“That’s rough.” He reached up to scratch at his stubble before leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“So why are you up here, Mr Number Two?” You smile, “Not got any babies to save from burning buildings? Or camera men to hit—”

“Shut the fuck up.” He scoffed, his nose scrunched in irritation before his face paled.

You thought perhaps he might get up and leave after your bold question but instead he sniffed, using the outside of his wrist to rub his nose before looking across at the city.

“A villain attacked a building just outside Musutafu tonight,” He muttered hoarsely, “I didn’t get there in time.”

“Shit— I’m so sorry,” You immediately stammered, feeling like such an asshole. Your problems were miniscule in proportion to this, “I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine,” He shakes his head, “I would’a never made it, but it still fuckin’ sucks, you know?”

“Yeah,” You murmured back. How could you even comfort someone for something like that? There weren’t enough words in the world that would convey the empathy you felt for him, and the victims.

“I just needed to get away for a bit.” He rasped.

“Me too,” You smiled, “I was sick of everyone looking at me with pity.”

Your family and bridesmaids had been suffocating after it happened, pulling you into their arms and drowning you in faux sympathy.

“Oh my god, I couldn’t imagine that ever happening to me.”

“It’s okay you’re such a strong person, you can do so much better.”

“If my husband ever did this I don’t know what I’d do.”

“I’m glad this came out now and not at my wedding.”

“Such a waste of a pretty dress.”

It was all the same bullshit as you listened to your friends slowly start to make it about themselves while your world crumbled down around you— So you left, thankful you hadn’t bothered to bring your phone as you were left to your own devices.

You offer the champagne bottle out to Bakugou as he stared down at it for a moment before taking it. Adjusting it in one large fist around the base of it before taking a large swig.

“If it means anything, it seems like he’s the fuckin’ idiot for cheating on you.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he passed the bottle back, “Only a real piece of shit leaves his missus on her wedding day.”

His words still managed to have your heart fluttering. You weren’t naive, you knew he was only trying to be nice, especially when thick black lines of eyeliner and mascara smudged in tear stains down your cheeks. Your lipstick faded around your lips and stuck to the neck of your champagne bottle, and your hair was now a complete mess from where you’d ripped out your veil, and still he managed to have you smiling as you couldnt stop the grin that spread across your cheeks.

“How long were they fuckin’?” He asked, and you appreciated the bluntness of it.

“Six months,” You shook your head, “Apparently they got close planning the wedding.”

“Shit, that’s fucked up.” He shook his head, reaching back for the champagne bottle as you watched him take another drink. Certain your lipstick was pressed against his chapped lips now as you shared the same bottle.

“Yep,” You rolled the ‘p’, “And apparently he spent the night with her after the rehearsal too,” You sighed, “I just can’t believe I didn’t see the signs.”

“Ain’t any of this that’s your fault,” He shook his head, taking another swig of champagne before handing the bottle back to you, “And thinkin’ like that will eat you up inside.”

“Could say the same thing to you, Dynamight.”

“I didn’t say it didn’t suck,” He shook his head, “And call me Bakugou, I ain’t workin’.”

“I’m glad to hear the Number Two hero doesn’t drink on the job— fuck.”

You shivered as a gust of wind swirled through the vantage point, reminding you of your outfit as you’d left the venue without a suitable coat. Hugging your arms around your body to try and stop your teeth from chattering as you drank more champagne, hoping the alcohol would warm your veins.

You heard a zip to the side of you and before you could object, Bakugou was shrugging his hoodie off to wrap it around your bare shoulders.

“Don’t worry about me, you’ll get cold—”

“Shaddup,” He cut you off, taking the champagne bottle back off you so that you could slip your hands through the arms, “Just take it, woman.”

You were immediately surrounded by warmth, his body heat still radiated from the fabric as you breathed in the scent of him. A mixture of ash, smoke and cologne as you pulled it tighter around your frame.

Bakugou pulled his hero mask up over his eyes to let it sit on his forehead, his messy hair now spiking upwards as he rubbed his eyes with the ball of his palm. The dark eyeliner around them smearing against his skin as he breathed a relaxed sigh, taking another drink as he turned his attention back to the view in front of him.

“You’re quite pretty actually,” You smiled at him, “The media always get you pulling the ugliest faces.”

“Hah?” He turned to you with a raised brow, his nose scrunched in irritation, “That’s still my fuckin’ face you know.

“Yeah, and I’m saying it’s really pretty.” You definitely blamed the alcohol flowing through your veins for giving you this level of confidence, certain the words would never have left your lips if you were sober.

“I ain’t ever been called pretty before.” He scoffed.

“I dunno why not— because it’s true.” You smiled.

“I ain’t the pretty one out of us two, sweetheart. Trust me.”

[hughjackmansbicep]

Idk if you’re taking requests now but can you please write a Logan x reader who likes flowers🥺 like someone gives her a flower and she gets very happy so he decides to buy bouquets for her to see her happy

Contains: Logan Howlett X F!Reader

Warnings: Uhhhh none??? Cuss words???

Word Count: 1.08k

a/n: omg my first request!!!! been waiting for one :DD i hopes you like hope i delivered well...... im so bad at making endings i never know how the fluff to do it rahhhhh !!!!! enjoy enjoy feel free to request friends i find this sm funnnnnnn

Unbeknownst to you, Logan took note of everything about you. He’d watch the way your eyes sparkled when you'd walk through the garden; he’d admire the way you carefully hand-selected flowers for whatever bouquet you were making that week; and even though he always seemed annoyed when you'd make whoever was driving pull over so you could pick the wildflowers on the side of the road, he secretly adored it. So when one of the students made a beeline for you, roses picked from the garden in hand, he took extra notes seeing something so simple make your entire week.

“It was just the sweetest thing!” You boasted about the flowers for the thousandth time; Logan didn't mind though; he could listen to you talk all day long. You could've been reciting War and Peace to him, and he'd still be utterly infatuated with every word that fell from your tongue. The two of you were sitting on a bench in the garden as you rambled on about those darn roses when Rouge had appeared holding a vase with the most gorgeous floral arrangement. “These were just dropped off for you.” She spoke, holding the bouquet out. “Oh my! Did they say from who?” You were grinning from ear to ear as you admired the flowers. “Nope! Card didn't say either.” You fished for the folded-over cardstock; opening it just left you with even more questions. ‘In a room full of art, I’d still stare at you’ was all that was printed on the card—no name, no initial, not even a hint of who might this be from. You looked up, giving Rouge a warm smile and thanking her before heading inside to set up your new arrangement.

You'd just finished cutting and placing your new flowers in a vase when Logan waltzed into the kitchen, “Who do you think they're from?” He asked, taking a swig from the bottle in his hand, “Not sure, but whoever they're from, they certainly know my favorite flowers.” You smiled down at the flowers, thankfully paying no real mind to Logan. His face was completely flush as he tried to mask the smile making its way to his lips with a quick swig from his beer. He just silently nodded in your direction before yelling a quick goodnight to you as he swiftly made his exit out the kitchen.

This continued on for weeks, your secret admirer sending flowers to you, sweet notes attached to all of them. You had saved every single one, keeping them locked in a small wooden box under your bed, and every week when new flowers would arrive, you'd cut a few off from your last bouquet, pressing them in books to also savor. You had interrogated every single person in the mansion about these mystery flowers, but to no avail, no one would confess. You didn't mind though; while it was frustrating to not thank your secret admirer, you appreciated the gifts nonetheless.

“I just wish whoever was doing this would say something.” You exasperated. You were sprawled across your bed staring at the ceiling as Logan sat at your desk picking at his fingernails, something he only did when he was nervous. “Maybe they're scared?” Logan offered, and you flipped to your stomach, looking over to him, "Well, they need to nut up and just tell me, I'm starting to run out of books to press these damn things!” His eyes go wide hearing you've been saving the flowers sent to you, your brows furrowing in confusion at his reaction. “What?” You ask, cocking your head to the side, “N-nothing; I think Charles is calling for me.” He practically runs out of your room after that. 

You 100% knew Logan was the one sending you all these floral bouquets; he made it so painfully obvious, but you weren't going to say anything. Honestly, you wanted to see how long he could keep his little act up. How many more arrangements were you going to get before he finally fessed up? Your answer came 2 months later, when you received a bouquet. The note attached was just coordinates and a timestamp of 7:26 p.m. Punching them into your phone, it was a botanical garden just a couple miles away, a smile creeping onto your face as your cheeks flushed red.

You stood at the beginning of the path in the garden at 7:26 on the dot, your heart a jackhammer in your chest, your breaths shakey and laced with anxiety. It had to be Logan, but what if it wasn’t... Your thoughts were racing in your head, making you feel dizzy, your stomach tying into knots as your heels clicked down the path. Each step closer, you could feel your body tense up like cement was coursing through your veins, hardening with each passing second. 

Rounding a corner to the center of the garden, you spotted an oh so familiar face holding a bouquet of your absolute favorite flowers, the goofiest smile planted on his face when he saw you coming around. “I fucking knew it.” You whispered to yourself; Logan nervously laughed, of course hearing what you said. “Surprisee…” He drew out, opening his arms up to you, wasting no time. You ran over to him, being engulfed in his oh-so-large arms that you loved. “I just saw how happy you were receiving those roses from that kid; I couldn't help it; I love seeing your smile.” He bashfully admitted, and you smiled up at him, planting a big, sloppy kiss on his cheek in response.

“I wanted to tell you so many times, but I wanted it to be special, y'know, because you're special.” His face was burning red as he spoke, “I notice everything about you, from the way flowers make your heart skip a beat to the way you rebuke the societal norms of appointment times.”

"God, I hate that everything is set in 5 or 10 minute increments.” You sighed against his chest, shaking your head. He laughed just at your dramatics, “Exactly why I had you show up at 7:26.” 

The rest of your evening was spent admiring the garden and teaching Logan about every flower you both came across, and of course he listened to everything, absorbing every minute detail he could. If your words were gold, he'd dress himself in them every day; he'd tattoo every sound that escaped from your mouth. You were as precious as rubies to him, and god, he was never letting you go.

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Proactive Type of Person - Rafe Cameron One Shot

⭐ Republished ⭐

+18 Minor DNI

PervFrat!Rafe x CollegeStudent!Reader

+18 Minor DNI

📖 Rafe is your boyfriend… You just don’t know it yet.

🪄 warning (contains spoliers): swearing, Stalking, pet names, degradation, namecalling, public masturbation, dark!rafe, mean!rafe, perv!rafe, mentions of cum play, mentions of unprotected P in V, ownership kink, mentions of rough oral (if I missed tags I’m sorry)

✨ “Just do it, baby girl,” I moan, watching as she pinches her top button. I grab mine as well, tugging it open with her. I hiss at the sensation of my rock-hard cock in my hand, feeling some relief. This is the first time I’ve touched myself all day. I was edging myself as I studied her Instagram and TikTok page, saving my favorites to my phone. When I saw her in the parking lot, I swear I could have cum untouched. ✨

💋 Part 1 will be from Rafe’s POV Part 2 will be from the Female Reader’s 💋

3.8k

Rafe’s POV:

“So, class. What does its structure contribute to the poem “Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night?” The professor drones on, sliding her reading glasses down her nose as she looks out onto the lecture hall. I shrink in my seat slightly, along with the other boys, doing my best to avoid her gaze.

Required reading, my ass. Did she honestly expect us to read this shit on a Thursday night? Barely drug my ass outta bed for class. Thank fuckin’ god. I relax in my seat as one of the front-row nerds saves the basic population who doesn’t give a fuck.

“Repetition. The poet used it to stress his key theme for his readers.”

I nod, scribbling a little line of nothingness on my paper, keeping up with the facade. That shit went in one ear and out the next. “Hey, Cameron.” My frat brother elbows me on the side. “You good for the kegs?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. What else can daddy get you?” I sneer as I roll my eyes at Billy, who laughs and scoffs. “I get paid back first, plus 10%. Get me a bottle of Pappy Van Winkle; I ain’t drinkin’ Coors, and I ain’t pickin’ that shit up either.”

“Thanks, daddy,” he responds in a breathy voice, snatching the wad of cash off my hands. “We need ten kegs between the Deltas and Phi Mu… You good for that-”

“Fuck you, ‘Am I good for that’?” I cut him short through a breathy laugh. “You’re holdin’ the cash in your hands, bitch. Stop askin’. Add an extra 5% for questionin’ me-”

“Rafe.” My stomach sinks as my professor’s eyes zero in on mine. “Am I interrupting something?” The old bird cocks an eyebrow, her annoyance visible, matching my own.

“No,” I answer simply, crossing my arms across my chest and relaxing at my desk.

“Splendid. I assume you know the answer then. Correct?” She challenges me, trying to catch me off guard. A smirk pulls on her lips as she does just that. Cunt.

“I agree.”

“The key insight about death in the poem is, ‘I agree’?” She belittles. I stare at her blankly, blinking a few times to let her know she’s wasting her time. She’s not gettin’ shit out of me. I’ve got an A in this class, bitch. What’re you gonna do about it?

She chuckles weakly, shaking her head at my resistance. “Am I wrong, ma’am? I have a bit of conversational anxiety… If you’d like to repeat the question, I’d love to try again,” I ask through a shit-eating smirk, letting my sarcasm drip all the way through, irritating her even more.

“Anyone else?” She invites in a shrill voice as she dismisses me, looking around the room to find another. Some of my frat brothers snicker in the back, making the professor’s features even more rigid. “Miss. Y/n?” Her demeanor changes instantly, shaking off my defiance, moving on to another one of her perfect pets.

Who’s that?

Holy shit. I swallow hard, feeling my mouth dry up as I see her. She twiddles her fluffy pink pen, acknowledging the teacher with a smile. Y/n? Jesus fuckin’ Christ. How have I never seen her before? I watch as a football player shuffles down the row of the lecture hall. My question, answered in a moment as his broad shoulders cut off my line of sight. No. I stretch back, cranking my neck to get her in my sights again.

“The key insight’s that death should be fought against, even though it is inevitable.” Her beautiful voice fills the lecture hall like a song. The teacher smiles at her again, praising y/n for her correct answer. Y/n grins and nods, averting her eyes as she catches the room’s focus. Her cheeks blush the prettiest shade of pink, matching her glossy lips.

Those lips… I lick my own, thinking about the way they would look wrapped around my cock, drool running down her chin as she deepthroats my dick. I’d grip that little ponytail like a handlebar, using her mouth like a toy. I chuckle at myself, still surprised that my mind went there almost instantly, but I know myself too well. I am who I am.

Y/n looks so goddamn innocent… Not for long. She’s a slut for praise. I can tell. I can work with that.

My eyes work lower, following the curve of her cleavage in her low-cut shirt. Fuck, I can’t wait to get her on top; watch ‘em bounce in my face. I’m gonna cum all over her perfect rack. Tiddie fuck her while she cries for daddy’s dick. Smear that shit- “Earth to Rafe?” I grit my teeth as I’m torn from my fantasy. “Buddy, you good?” Billy chuckles, his voice taunting as he follows my focus to her. “Mmm… Y/n,” he sighs blissfully. “So fuckin’ hot, bro. She’s a Phi Mu girl.”

“No shit?”

“Mhmm… Transferred from LSU. Smart, funny, sexy… But she’s mine, buddy. Aight? Been layin’ down groundwork all semester.” He elbows me playfully, chuckling to himself, actually believing his own words.

“All semester, and you haven’t made a move?” I spit, eyes rolling in his direction. This whole conversation is laughable. Has he been sitting on this all semester? Really? She was mine the second I looked at her, buddy. You’re done.

“Long game,” he defends himself.

“Long game?” I scoff. “Doesn’t sound like you got any game at all...”

“Hey. Fuck off… I know she wants me. Her bedroom faces mine and she doesn’t even close the curtains when she changes anymore; she texts me all the time. See?” He gloats as he thumbs through his phone. I don’t even bother myself with the semantics. Why the fuck does that shit matter? What’s he gettin’ at? “I’m gonna help ‘em after class. They have some car wash fundraiser downtown.”

Is that so? “I like the sound of that,” I smile, feeling my cock growing stiff in my jeans at the thought of seeing her in next to nothing, wet and soapy no less.

“You can’t just take her from me, Rafe,” Billy mutters in annoyance. A laugh rumbles in my chest as I take in his empty words. “I’m not fuckin’ around. She’s mine.”

My head turns slowly in his direction as he bends in mine. I mean, the guy’s big, but I’m bigger. He can fight, but he’s not willing to see that shit through. Billy’s got that moral compass that urges him to stop where I couldn’t care less. And he knows it.

He balls his hands up in fists at his desk, jaw tightening as he does his best to intimidate me one last time. My boy’s a bitch.

“Mine.”

I study her movements as she glides through the halls. Her hair bounces with each step brushing along her backpack, half-hiding her perfect ass. Her bum shakes a little as she walks, just a tease for me. Y/n slight skirt grazes just a few inches below her ass, leaving her bare legs on display.

I wonder what they’d look like over my shoulder… Spread wide on my bed as I devoured her perfect pussy. Damn. I bet she makes some pretty sounds. I can’t wait to hear that, to see her face, as she squirts all over my mouth and cock.

Where are you going, pretty girl?

She hooks a left, heading toward the coffee shop. I continue to follow my girl, watching as she strolls inside. Y/n walks toward the line, stalling next to the case of pastries, eyeing the bottom. Do it for daddy, baby. C’mon. There you go… She drops down, surveying the options. That goddamn ass… Does she know I’m watching? She’s gotta know. The paisley material tugs higher on her thighs, a peek of her round ass poking out the bottom.

She stands up again, taking another step, moving with the traffic flow. Y/n reaches into her purse, pulling out her phone. She smiles as she looks at the screen. Billy Hargrove 💕. I feel my heart pick up pace, my breathing quickening; rage boils inside me.

I gave him an order. This shit’s not up to him. I roll the tension out of my neck, fingers twisting into fists of my own. Where’s the fucking loyalty? She bites her bottom lip and smiles at the message, making me physically ill.

I’ve got distracted by her… Say somethin’ to make her forget about that.

“Uh, hey,” I rasp. Y/n continues to type up a little message. “Y/n?” I reach out, resting my hand on her arm.

“Oh, hi… Umm, Rafe?” She says my name, making everything stand still. I look down at the beautiful eyes and soft, pouty lips, the corners of which curl into a sweet smile.

“Uh, yeah,” I answer, trying to level my tone. “We’re in class together.”

“Yeah… She’s kind of a bitch. Right?” Y/n asks weakly as her eyes soften on mine, showing me pity like my feelings might have been hurt by that little exchange between the professor and me.

“Yeah, she sucks,” I laugh lightly, tossing my head down in fake shame. “The boys and I got a little rowdy last night. I didn’t read that shit. Did you? I mean, obviously-”

“On my way to class,” she giggles as she looks around playfully for our professor.

My mouth falls into an open smile. “Naughty girl. Coast is clear, by the way,” I rasp through a little laugh.

“Good,” Y/n sighs as she tucks some hair behind her ear.

“You’re really smart.” I praise, watching her cheeks blushing again, this time closer than before, making my heart bang in my chest.

“Thank you. Oh, umm, you’re a Delta. Right?” She asks, solidifying her answer as she eyes the embroidery on my polo.

“I am. And you’re Phi Mu?” Y/n grins as she nods in reply. “I’m headed over to your car wash after this.”

“Awesome. Yeah, Lyndsey was worried that the University might question where the money came from if we made anything off selling beer tonight.”

“A cover-up?” I smile down at her as I stuff my hands in my jeans.

“Mhmm,” she breathes. “The party’s gonna be huge. Do you think we’ll get busted?”

I chuckle at the sweet nativity of her question. “‘Course we will. Over 500 students in one place… But it’s a block party. Right? So they won’t be able to pinpoint anybody. Not usin’ the frat’s money directly. Cash. The boys are gonna pay me back as they sell cups. Untraceable.”

“Aww. That’s so nice of you,” she smiles. Her demeanor hasn’t faltered since we’ve spoken. She doesn’t seem to care about the material shit; my Breitling watch, the gold rings on my fingers. Her face didn’t light up when I dropped the fact that I would buy beer for the masses. She just said it was nice… Fuck, she’s perfect.

“I try… But, if we get busted, I’ll blame it on some beautiful Phi girl I know.”

She gasps playfully, smacking me in the chest. “You wouldn’t!” Everything tenses in my body as I fight back my arousal, covering the growing excitement in my slacks with my notebook.

Y/n looks over my shoulder, catching the girl’s eyes behind me as she tells us to move forward. “Sorry,” Y/n sighs apologetically, clearing the open space between us and the register. Y/n steps up to the counter, ordering a latte and a muffin before reaching into her purse.

“Oh, shit. No. Sorry! Let me,” I breathe as I hurry to her side. “I’ll pay for whatever she’s havin’ and a coffee for me: one cream, one sugar. Thank you.”

“Wow. Thank you, Rafe. You didn’t need to do that,” she coos.

“No problem, y/n.”

Gifts… That’s what my girl likes.

Well, shit. She’s gonna need a grand gesture. I can sneak into her room tonight. Check the essentials: dress size, music taste; the little things she enjoys.

I’ll take a look at her nightstand. How could I not? Gotta know what she uses to please herself so I know what I’m working with and what it takes to get her there. I want to know her better than she knows herself.

I follow along, trying to keep my eyes on her face, but I can’t help but roam her body. I’ve never seen anything like it, never seen anything so perfect for me. I never wanted anything so bad.

The barista walks over, setting down my coffee. I suck my teeth, regretting my choice, knowing if I got the same shit as her, I could have stayed. But I shouldn’t. “I’ll come by. Yeah? Don’t kill me… I gotta big ass truck, and she’s dirty as shit.”

“No worries,” she smiles sweetly. “I’ll see you there, Rafe. Oh, and thanks for the coffee again.” She reaches out, resting her hand on my arm.

“Of course, sweetheart.” I test a pet name, watching her smile widen. Just gorgeous.

I step away, walking towards the door. Looking over my shoulder as Y/n pulls out her phone, that same smile for Billy setting on her perfect lips.

He’s fucking dead.

I pull up toward the parking lot, falling into the line of cars; a caravan of dicks with their windows already rolled down. Fuckin’ dogs. I lean out as well, surveying the scene looking for her. Jesus fuckin’ Christ. I watch the gaggle of girls prancing around in their bikinis, excitement building as I frantically look for her.

My heart skips as I see her sporting the most clothes, donning yet the sluttiest outfit of them all. She’s an absolute fuckin’ tease in her cut-off jean shorts and white t-shirt, soaked with water. The material clings to her curves, teasing me with her little triangle top, gathered slightly, barely covering her tits.

She leans over and reaches into the bucket, pulling out a sponge before ringing out the soap. A guy rolls down the window of his Mercedes, bending his neck to watch as she washes the side. I can already tell where this is goin’. He smirks, watching her ass as she leans down, cleaning the rear fender. “Aww, sweetheart,” he soughs, “Uhh…You missed a spot.” Y/n smiles sweetly, lowering to where she was before, making me huff out an aggravated breath.

Her friend walks over with a hose, spraying down the suds that y/n left behind. Tori Clarence, a late-night Delta regular. She says something that makes Y/n laugh. Y/n claps back, teasing her sister through a wicked smile. Tori lifts the gun, spraying y/n with a stream of water, hitting her directly on her tits.

Y/n gasps as her shirt turns from milky white to practically see-through, the chilly water running down her perfect body, making her nipple hard. She panics to get warm, reaching for the bottom of her shirt. Holy fuck. Holy fuck. Holy fuck. She pulls it over her body: soft skin, perfect boobs, and wet hair. Little lines of water cascade down her bare skin, rounding her curves catching on the denim of her shorts. Her eyes fall down her body, eyeing her damp state.

“Just do it, baby girl,” I moan, watching as she pinches her top button. I grab mine as well, tugging it open with her. I hiss at the sensation of my rock-hard cock in my hand, feeling some relief. This is the first time I’ve touched myself all day. I was edging myself as I studied her Instagram and TikTok page, saving my favorites to my phone. When I saw her in the parking lot, I swear I could have cum untouched.

I start to fist my cock as she leans over the trunk, her body perfectly positioned like I’m taking her from the back. Goddamn. I’d snake my rough hand up her soft skin, following the curve of her arched spine, drifting into her hair. I’d pull it back, feeling her pussy clench around my big dick. I’d spank her, cracking her tight little ass with the palm of my hand, leaving her red and bruised. Just one of the many ways I’d mark my girl. “Fuck, Y/n,” I moan her name as heat radiates through my body.

She walks along the side of the next car, letting me see her little triangle top: light blue, thin material, the blush of nipples visible. I roll my hand over my tip, whimpering at the sensation, imagining myself hitting the back of her throat as tears pool in her pretty, innocent eyes. Y/n looking up at daddy, mascara running down her cheeks as she throats me like the slut I know she can be. I’d hold her head in my hands, using her mouth to stroke my cock. My perfect little toy…

Fuck. I got a Fleshlight with her name on it. I’m gonna use those pictures when I get home… Gotta get myself ready for tonight. She has no clue what she’s in for. What I wouldn’t give to have my cock in her hand instead of my own. I’d make her jerk me off as she pleaded for my dick deep in that pretty tight cunt. I bet she’s so goddam wet. So, so fuckin’ tight.

“I know, baby. Daddy’s gonna give you his dick. Don’t worry,” I mumble, feeling my breathing start to increase with my pleasure. I thrust into my hand, fucking up into my fist as I watch her undo the loosened side strings of her bikini, tightening it again.

I eye the sign, catching the time. 11-4 PM. Yes… They’ll be here all afternoon. Just need to make a pit stop. Grab a pair of panties. Whatever I can get. I need to taste her. Stuff ‘em in my mouth as I study my prize. My hips stutter as I feel myself about to bust, imagining just how sweet she’ll taste. I work myself quicker, taking hold of my steering wheel as I rut into my hand.

‘Rafe. Rafe. Rafe.’ I can hear it now. See my little whore creamin’ on my cock as I give it to her over and over again.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby girl. Where do you want it?”

‘Deep in my pussy… Please, baby’. She’ll whimper and beg, pleading to get stuffed full. I’m gonna brush my fingers over her swollen clit, making her gush all over my cock and thighs, wetting everything around us until I’m pumping her full of my cum.

I’ll watch it drip out of her puffy pink hole, fucking it right back in, cleaning the rest off with my tongue before spitting it in her mouth.

My perfect cumslut.

I need it drippin’ out of her for days. Watchin’ my little angel walk into class, knowing just how good I dicked her down. I’ll watch her from my seat as she cleans the little cum tear off her inner thigh, slipping it between her lips as her eyes flick to mine, sucking it clean.

No one will have her again. “She was made for me.” The thought alone has my hand faltering; jaw falling slack. My stomach sinks, eyes doubling as she looks in my direction, matching my gaze. “Fuckkk…” My eyes roll back in my skull, toes curling, head thrown to the headrest as I cum harder than I ever have. Shit. I don’t even care if she saw. If she’s any girl of mine, she’d want to see it anyway.

My dirty little whore.

I look down at my jizz covered hand and lap. Goddamnit. I clear the gap between my car and the next before ripping off my shirt and wiping away my mess. I flip my hat on, snagging my protein shaker bottle from the passenger’s seat floor as I try to disguise the real reason I’m covered head to toe in sweat. I do my best to control my breathing, still running high from my climax, hit with the post-nut clarity that she may have seen it all.

She looks happy to see me… Real happy. Y/n smiles, making my heart race again as I meet her gorgeous eyes. She greets me happily, trotting up to my truck. “How are you doin’, sweetheart?”

She dunks her hand into the soapy bucket, grabbing a sponge. “Livin’ the dream,” y/n smiles, moving closer than expected. I take in her perfume, already so familiar to me, the smell of it revving me right up again.

“Sorry. I’m a sweaty mess,” I sigh. Her gaze falls down my body, studying me with a bashful smile.

“Just got done with a workout?” She asks.

“Mhmm…” I smile and nod in reply. “Pay now? Pay later?” I invite as I snag my wallet.

“Now,” she sings. “Donation based, so whatever you’re willing to give.” I thumb through my wallet, plucking out $200.

“Rafe…” She breathes, taking it off my hands. “Are you sure? This is a little much.” Y/n looks down at the cash in her hands before meeting my eyes again.

“Positive,” I assure.

“Well, that is very nice, Rafe Cameron,” she coos. Y/n uses my last name, making my stomach drop. She wouldn’t have known my last name unless she did some digging. I didn’t give it to her; I never said anything in class before today. She must have looked me up on Instagram or Snapchat… Maybe she asked one of her sisters about me.

I fight off a wide smile as she gets started on the car. She takes her time, putting in a little more effort than the cars before. She walks to the front of the cab, leaning over, breast jiggling as she swirls and circles the sponge on the hood. She rises a little higher on her tippy toes, unable to reach the rest.

“Here you go, babe.” Her friend sets down a ladder for Y/n. She bends over once more, the angle alone making my cock rock hard again as I imagine us fucking raw. Tonight… I’ll bend her over on the bathroom counter, just like she is now, the bass of the party on the street not even loud enough to cover her cries and my moans. I’ll pound into her as the slaps of our skin fill the bathroom. Her eyes shift to mine, catching my stare. She doesn’t drop focus, keeping her eyes on me as she continues to scrub. A smirk spreads on her lips, mirroring my own.

Baby girl…

Y/n steps down from the ladder before walking to her friend, grabbing the hose off her hands; taking her job instead. She sprays down the truck, cleaning off the suds. The light breeze catches the flow of water, sending little beads of it flying, catching on her perfect skin. My mouth waters as I imagine licking the glaze of it off her skin. Fuck… I don’t think I can take this.

“Alright, Mr. Cameron. You’re all set,” she smiles as she eyes her work. I bite my lip and nod.

“Thank you, princess. See you tonight.”

I pull forward, watching her from my wing mirror as she greets the next car. Her excitement fades as she welcomes the next. Good fuckin’ girl.

Next stop, Phi Mu.

A/N: Writing Part 2 after Kinktober 💋

tag list and masterlist on my pinned post

@starkeysprincess @rafesthroatbaby @gri959 @loserboysandlithium @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @akobx @darlydixon83 @hyperfixationgirl @savayvayblr-blog @oxpogues4lifexo @rafesgiirl @sleepiibunniiii

[steddieasitgoes]

not so dirty little secret

written for @steddie-week Day 1 prompt: Mystery/Secret Relationship Rating: T | wc: 2128 | no cw Read on ao3

Steve’s lounging on the Munson’s couch, right-hand wrist deep in a bowl of popcorn, when Eddie stalks into the room. He’s got two beers in hand and is mumbling about something, words muffled by the rim of the beer bottle as he takes aggressive sips. It’s not unusual to hear but not understand what his rumblings are — Steve’s become accustomed to his quiet but loud brainstorming sessions. What is unusual, however, is the pinch of his brows and the slight downturn of his lips as he does so. Curious, Steve perks up and leans forward.  

“Penny for your thoughts?” 

Eddie gasps, scandalized. “My thoughts are worth at least a dime, Stevie!” 

Taking a more calculated, calming swig of his beer, he drapes himself on the couch beside Steve and sighs. “I think Wayne is knocking boots with someone.” 

The words leave Eddie’s mouth with a nonchalance, as if he’s giving Steve an update about the weather.  It’s something he does often with no explanation, at least not one Steve’s discovered yet, and it’s quickly becoming another quirk in a long list of ones he’s coming to love about Eddie.  

This though… this is a whole other monster. 

Steve's eyes widen and blink in confusion. His lips fall into a soft, confused pout as he tilts his head to the side — the tell-tale sign that he has no idea what Eddie is talking about. It’s a sign Eddie picks up on immediately, with — the both of them well-versed in their non-verbal body language as of now, so he clarifies. 

“You know, knocking boots? Doing the dirty? Bumping uglies? Hanky Pa—“ 

Well, over-clarifies. 

“I get it!” Steve shouts, face reddening.

It’s weird, feeling the heat spread across his cheeks and down his neck. He’s never been embarrassed by sex before. Kind of hard to be when his entire high school reputation revolved around who he was (or wasn’t) jumping into bed with. Never mind the fact that he actually only ever did it twice. He couldn’t go a week without it being brought up at least once, and each time, Steve had glided through the conversation with flying colors, hardly embarrassed. 

Back then was different, though. It was all talk at the end of the day. Mostly make-believe talk. This, though? Listening to Eddie talk about his uncle’s very real sex life? He’d be concerned if he didn’t find it mortally embarrassing. 

Clearing his throat, Steve shifts in his seat. 

“Does it matter if he is? Ya’ know, bumping boots or whatever?” 

Eddie cackles, throwing his entire body into it until the bowl of popcorn topples over onto the couch between them. So much for movie night Steve thinks as he tries to save as many of the kernels as he can before they fall into the couch cushion abyss. Not like he had been looking forward to eating or anything. 

“Does it matter if he is?” Eddie huffs, half-mocking Steve as he shakes his head. “Of course, it matters! It’s my uncle! What if we like, walked in on him or something because we don’t know what’s going on? That would scare me for life, Stevie. I’d need therapy!” 

“You’re already in therapy.” 

“Well, I’d need another therapist. One who specializes in the traumatic experience of walking in on your parental figure getting his di—“ 

“Let’s just rewind for a minute.” Steve shuts his eyes, willing his brain not to conjure up the image Eddie’s so keen on painting for him. His therapy bills are expensive enough, he doesn’t need to add another session just to talk about whatever the hell this conversation is. “If Wayne is in a relationship, which you don’t even know if he is, why would he keep it a secret?” 

“I don’t know. You’ve met him! He’s weird and secretive like that. I didn’t even  know his middle name until I was fourteen and swiped his license so I could buy cigarettes.” 

Steve remembers that story. It was one of the first of many never-ending cascades of embarrassing childhood stories Wayne shared with him that always turned Eddie scarlet. Eddie always gets upset when Wayne tells them, never failing to pout over not having someone on Steve’s side to badger for his own stories. Steve, happy to keep his past in the past, has grown used to shrugging him off and urging Wayne to tell him more.

“Not telling you his middle name is a lot different than hiding an entire person,” Steve continues to reason as he relocates the popcorn bowl to the table in front of them. “Why do you think he’s hiding someone anyway?”

“I’m glad you asked,” Eddie says, turning on the couch to better face Steve. He folds one leg under himself, the other hanging off the edge, foot planted and bouncing in an erratic rhythm Steve’s willing to bet is a new beat for a song. Eddie takes one more swig of his beer and then clears his throat as he claps his hands together. “Evidence número

 uno, he’s been smiling more lately.” 

“And I’m sure that has nothing to do with the fact that you’re back home and on the mend.” 

“Hey! Don’t interrupt me to remind me that my uncle loves me. It ruins my street cred.” 

Steve shoots his hands up in defense, shaking his head at his boyfriend's antics. 

“Evidence numéro deux—“

“You’ve been spending too much time with Robin,” Steve mumbles, taking a swig from his own beer this time. All this language-switching is giving him a headache. 

“Evidence numéro deux!” Eddie repeats, louder this time as he holds up two fingers. He’s kneeling now, knees sinking into the well-loved fabric of the couch. “He’s been using a new mug.” 

“Someone call the police! Wayne’s using a new mug.” 

If looks could kill, Eddie would be a modern day Medusa and Steve would be stoned to the couch.

“Evidence number three — and this is the most damning of evidence — Wayne has had plans every Monday night for the last two months.” He jumps to his feet now and begins pacing around the living room. 

Wait, Monday nights? But that’s — 

Oh. 

Eddie is so off base. So, so, so far off base, he might as well be lost in space. Steve bites the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. The last thing he wants to do is upset him more than he already has with his interjections. 

But this is hilarious. Downright hysterical. 

And honestly, the truth might be a harder pill for Eddie to swallow than this mystery lover he’s dreamed up. Because that is way easier to explain than the truth, that Wayne has been spending every Monday night for two months with Steve… watching football. 

“Two months, Stevie!” Eddie shouts, pulling Steve from his thoughts. “He comes home from work, changes, and then he leaves and doesn’t come back home for hours! I mean, maybe I’m being a bit generous since he is gone for hours. I can’t imagine he’d have that kind of stamina, but maybe he—” 

The front door opens, interrupting whatever cursed thought was about to spill from Eddie’s lip to reveal the older man in question. Steve’s never been so grateful to see Wayne — even if he’s the reason this entire conversation is happening right now. 

“Eds. Steve.” Wayne nods at each of them before crossing into the kitchen to fetch his own beer. He returns a moment later, collapsing into his recliner with the same dramatics as Eddie. “What are ya boys talkin’ ‘bout?” 

It’s kind of hard to be a religious man when he’s witnessed hell on Earth and had to claw his way out of it, no sign of divine intervention in sight. And yet, Steve can’t help but shut his eyes and say a silent prayer to whoever may be listening that his boyfriend keeps his mouth shut for once in his life. 

The power of prayer isn’t on Steve’s side though apparently, as he watches Eddie’s eyes get that twinkle in them right then and there, a mischievous glint that he has a love-hate relationship with. Sure, it’s cute as hell, but god dammit, every time it happens, Steve ends up having to bail him out of trouble. He really doesn’t want to have to do that right now, not for this. 

“Funny you should ask, Wayne—“

The intro to the seven o’clock news cuts him off. Maybe Steve’s prayers have been answered. Maybe this is what people talk about when they say that God works in mysterious ways. Maybe— 

“We’re coming to you live from The Hoosier Dome to bring you breaking news about our Indianapolis Colts.” 

“Bet it’s got to do with that coach they got runnin’ the place. Still can’t believe he ran that damn childish play on Monday.” 

“Tell me about it,” Steve says, shaking his head. “You know how I feel about the Colts, but you should’ve won that game.” 

“Least we get a rematch later in the season,” Wayne says, sipping his beer. “We gotta go to Diana’s for that game. If we lose, I can drown my sorrows in a real whisky instead of that cheap shit Glen keeps selling us.” 

“Us?” Eddie balks.

Steve watches in real time as Eddie puts the pieces together. His eyes widen then narrow into judgemental slits. His lips purse, head swiveling between the two of them and the television like he does when he’s DMing an intense session for the kids. Eddie’s sharp, always has been, and he wears his emotions on his face, so it’s easy to know when everything clicks in that chaotic mind of his. He might as well have buzzers going off behind him. 

“You!” He shouts, pointing an accusatory finger in Steve’s direction. “You’re the one keeping my uncle out late! Making him happy!” 

“What’s he talkin’ ‘bout?” Wayne asks.

Steve bits his lip. “Eddie, uh, thought you had a secret lover that’s been keeping you out on Monday nights.” 

“A secret lover?” Wayne laughs. “On a Monday night? Boy if I was gettin’ handsy with someone it wouldn’t be on no Monday night. I’m a Friday night gentleman, you know that. Maybe even Saturday mornin’ if I’m lucky.” 

“I don’t know anything anymore!” Eddie shouts, really doubling down on his theatrics. There’s a moment of calm before his brain conjures up something sinister — at least, Steve thinks it must be really bad judging by the paleness in Eddie’s face and the anger in his eyes. Finally, he explodes. “You’re cheating on me with my Uncle!” 

“I am not!” 

“Maybe not physically — Jesus H. Christ, ew, please please tell me it’s not physical. I think I’m gonna be sick.” 

“Now hold your horses a minute, Eds.” Wayne stops Eddie in his tracks with an easy hand around his wrist. “Steve here ain’t do nothin’ wrong but offer me his company during the games. I’d watch them with you. Hell, we both would. But, we know you hate ‘em.” 

“So it’s my fault then?” 

“I ain’t say that.” 

“You implied it, old man!” Eddie says, jabbing his finger in Wayne’s direction now. “You better keep your blue-collar hands away from my debutant boyfriend.” 

“You two are both ridiculous,” Steve laughs, shaking his head. He turns to Eddie, giving his best attempt as his puppy dog apology eyes. “It wasn’t meant to be a secret. You’re just never home on Mondays anyway, so we never thought to mention it. But if it bothers you so much, come with us this week. You’ll see for yourself no one’s stealing my honor, or whatever and it’s going to be a good game.” 

“Not for the Colts,” Wayne grumbles. 

Eddie makes a big show of considering the offer before shuttering. “And spend the night at Glen’s sports bar? I think I’d rather you cheat on me with my uncle—“ 

“Can we please stop talking about this?” Steve runs a frustrated hand down his face. “It’s grossing me out. No offense, Wayne.” 

“I’d be offended if you weren’t grossed out, son.” 

“Hey! I was talking,” Eddie squawks. Steve gives him his undivided attention, Wayne’s not so graceful, offering him a grunt and a hand gesture telling him to stop blocking the television. “As I was saying, you two can have your little sports bromance thing, butI do expect you to buy me a new mug for all my troubles, Stevie. S’not fair you got one for Wayne and not me.” 

“I’ll take you to the store tomorrow, and you can pick it up yourself.” 

“Thank you.” After a moment, Eddie sinks back into his side of the couch cushion and reaches for the half-full bowl of popcorn on the table. “Now, let’s start this movie night.” 

[wittlesissyb4by]

Why do we keep letting these pigs get off scott-free? They think they can come in, play with our hearts and our heads, then cut and run and do the same to some other poor girl! Hell, sometimes they’re doing it to multiple women at the same time!

Well, I say “no more”! No longer will we let these immature men run around and take advantage of women! It’s time we take a stand! Starting with little Benjamin here.

Benny tried to slip a little something in my drink at the club last week and thought I wouldn’t notice. Little did he know, I’d already been watching him, planning a little bit of payback after what he did to my friend Lauren. She cried for weeks over this guy.

So when Benny wasn’t looking, I did the ‘ole switcheroo, he was out like a light 2 hours later.

Ohh you should have seen Benny’s face when he woke up for the first time! His hands and feet were chained to his new crib, and he kicked his little legs when he saw (or felt) what he had on. Every flail of his body only made his fresh new diaper crinkle louder and louder. He whined and cried and screamed as much as his gag would allow. But Benny had no idea that was just the beginning.

He thought, he really thought he wasn’t going to have to use his diaper, that it was just there for funsies. The way he moaned and groaned as he clenched and tucked his legs, trying anything he could to quell the painful throbbing coming from his very full bladder. I told him to save himself the torment, that all he was doing was delaying the inevitable, but still he resisted. To his credit, he made it a whole ‘nother thirty minutes before he sighed in relief and flooded his diaper for the very first time. His whimpers and whines after were pathetically adorable.

He drank the bottle out of desperation. He was obviously starving, and I made it clear he would not get out of his (now *very* wet) diaper until he finished the whole thing. I wonder if he could taste the laxatives and hormones mixed within? No matter, he certainly seemed to notice the effects about an hour later when he started fussing and complaining about the cramps.

“Just get over it,” I spat back at him, something I’ve heard way too many men say when they learn a woman is on her period, “just don’t be such a bitch!”

When I tell you: the man cried. Like, full-on bawled like a baybee when he couldn’t hold it anymore and started shitting all over himself in that diaper. He continued to cry for the next 3 hours when I refused to change him. I made him sit and wallow in his own filth while he thought about his life choices.

Reluctantly, his diaper was eventually changed, but so was his outfit. His eyes were wide as saucers when i held up the pink onesie and frilly skirt, but they closed soon after once the drugs kicked in. He woke up halfway through me doing his make-up, and seemed less than thrilled when the wig was put on.

Now, one week later, he’s mostly silent in his crib. I’m not sure if it’s the cocktail of hormones in his system messing with his brain, or he has finally accepted that this isn’t all a dream, that this isn’t going to stop, and this is his new life now. Any attempts to run will just lead to the thousands of pictures I have of him ending up all across the internet. The livestreams of him pooping his pampers notwithstanding. He’s quite docile now. He knows to keep that pacifier in his mouth otherwise it will delay his diaper change by several hours. It only took him a few rashes to learn to comply.

Lauren is now on her way over to get a look at the so-called “Man” that broke her heart. I highly doubt she’ll feel any sort of anguish now. Knowing her, she’ll have even more fun with him than I have.

So this is a call to all women, it is high time we put these deadbeat little fuck bois in their place. Take back what is ours. Let’s fight the patriarchy and turn it into a true Matriarchy, one pathetic little pervert at a time!

[alisonsfics]

his peace

pairing: carmy berzatto x reader

summary: when carmy meets you at an al-anon meeting, he’s surprised why how safe he feels with you immediately. but with that comes the anxiety of scaring you away.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: carmy and the reader meet at an al-anon meeting, but no actual discussion of sensitive topics

Carmy took yet another deep breath. He could hear his heartbeat pounding. He wiped his sweaty palms off on his jeans. He saw someone start walking down the hallway towards him. They gave him a small sympathetic smile, noticing his obvious nervousness.

He tried to take more breaths, as though it would give him a fresh perspective and a boost of confidence.

He ran his hand through his hair and reminded himself why he was there. Before he lost his courage, he walked past the “Al-Anon Meeting Today at 2pm” sign and in the door.

He breathed a sigh of relief once he entered the room. He’d been dreading the inside of this room. He was expecting to be met with cold stares and judgmental glances. Instead, the room seemed peaceful, and no one even seemed to notice him.

He picked a spot along the back wall and stood there. He casually leaned back against the wall, wanting to observe the meeting today instead of participate.

You were across the room. You were at the “snack” table that was topped with bottles of water and little packaged snacks, along with fliers full of resources like hotlines and therapist offices.

You caught a glimpse of the man lurking in the back of the room. You noticed the way his eyes avoided your gaze and focused on the floor.

You slowly walked over towards him. Everyone else was having side conversations before the meeting started. He was the only one who was alone.

You’d been coming to these meetings for a while, but you remembered how alone you felt at your first one. You didn’t want him to feel like that.

He only looked up at you once you were standing a few feet in front of him. He gave you a quick anxious smile. He could feel his palms start to sweat again. “Am I not allowed to just watch? This is my first time. I don’t know how these things go.” He rambled, nervously.

“No no no, feel free. It’s totally up to you. I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Y/N.” You said, holding out your hand to him. His eyes darted to your hand, which he quickly grabbed and gave a firm shake.

“I’m Carmen. My friends call me Carmy though. It’s nice to meet you.” He said, smiling at you. He didn’t know why, but he felt lighter. Like some of the pressure had been taken off. Surviving this meeting felt like less of a big deal when he looked into your eyes.

His thoughts usually operated at a thousand miles a minute, but they seemed to still in your presence.

“I remember how anxious I was at my first meeting. I’m not trying to force you to do anything. You do whatever feels right. But, nothing bad will happen if you come sit with us. I know you probably have all those worst case scenarios in your head right now, but I promise none of them are going to happen.” You tried to assure him as best as you could.

Carmy slowly nodded his head, thinking about what you said. He considered it more than he thought he would. It sounded less scary when you talked about it.

“I’m just not really ready to share or anything yet. I think I’d rather just stay back here and watch.” He told you, hesitantly. The thought of having to talk to a room of strangers about his dead brother was almost enough to paralyze Carmy.

“You can come and just listen, if you want. No one will force you to share. Again, absolutely no pressure, but I’ll save you a seat and leave it up to you.” You said, giving him a small smile and heading towards the circle of chairs.

Carmy watched as you walked away. Something about you made Carmy feel calm. You were encouraging enough that he felt like he could do anything.

He watched you for a few minutes. You were sat down and quietly talking to two other people next to you. Your warm smile made him feel optimistic. He was already looking forward to seeing you once a week.

You looked up and noticed he was watching you. He softly smiled at you. You went back to your conversation, not wanting to pressure him in any way by staring.

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw him walk up to the chair and sit beside you. You looked over at him and gave him an encouraging smile. You knew how massive a small step like that could feel.

You continued to check in with him throughout the meeting. After each person took their turn sharing, you’d look over at Carmy to make sure he was alright. You felt strangely protective over him, considering you’d just met.

After the meeting, he pulled you to the side. “Thank you for encouraging me today. I’ve been really worried about this meeting, but you helped me feel a lot more comfortable.” He said, genuinely. There was a certain sparkle in his eye that he didn’t even know was there. He felt hopeful for the first time in a long time.

“Of course. I’m glad I was able to help. I’m always here to talk, if you want.” You told him. You were met with a grateful nod.

“Do you maybe want to go get lunch? You’re just really easy to talk to.” He asked you. All of a sudden, you had butterflies in your stomach. You couldn’t hide your smile. “I’d love to.” You told him.

You both walked through the city talking about your lives. You both talked about why you went to Al-Anon meetings. You were one of the first people Carmy told about the Michael stuff.

It became a weekly tradition. Every week you both would sit side by side and then go out to lunch afterwards. By the third meeting, you’d gotten Carmy out of his shell enough to share with the group for the first time.

Carmy was trying really hard to appreciate how good it was with you. Especially since he knew he had a tendency to expect bad things to happen. It also meant he was scared of screwing it up.

So, he kept it separate. You and his life at The Beef were two completely different spaces in his head. You were peace, and The Beef was chaos. You were stress relief, and The Beef was stress-inducing.

That worked fine until he was bickering with Richie at the cash register, as usual, and he saw you walk in the front door.

Realizing it was you, Carmy froze. He’d forgotten all about the argument with Richie, and his eyes were glued on you.

You watched as his cheeks turned a soft shade of red. Carmy was mortified that you were seeing this side of his life. The side that involved screaming and chaos and arguments.

“Not right now, Richie,” Carmy mumbled, pushing past Richie and walking into the kitchen. Carmy’s thoughts started racing. He walked past Sydney and Marcus and Tina as they yelled different questions at him.

His mind was on one thing now. He marched towards the office after he spotted Natalie sitting at the desk. He needed to talk to someone about you, finally.

He barged into the office and closed the door behind him. The yelling of the kitchen was slightly muffled, blending in with the thoughts bouncing around his head.

“Carm, what’s wrong?” Nat asked, looking up and seeing her brother out of breath. Carmy immediately sat down on the couch and put his head into his hands.

He could feel himself spiraling and was trying to stop it before it got too far. All his emotions were bubbling to the surface. He truly thought he was going to scare you away.

“Carm, seriously, what’s going on? I’m getting worried.” Nat repeated.

He looked up from the floor, and she could see the panic in his eyes. “I went to a meeting. And I met this girl. She’s really been helping me. I just feel so calm when I’m with her.” He said. Nat noticed a glint in his eye when he talked about you.

“Carm, that’s great. I’m really proud of you. I know it took a lot for you to go. So, what’s wrong?” She asked, sitting beside him. She held onto his hand, encouraging him to explain.

“She’s umm…outside right now. I didn’t tell her about this place, but she just walked in.” He mumbled, glancing back towards the closed door. Nat slowly nodded, trying to piece together what he was so worried about.

“What’s so bad about that?” She asked, cocking her head to the side. Carmy shrugged. He wasn’t quite able to explain why he had this pit in his stomach.

“She’s the one thing in my life that just feels pure and completely separate from all the shit here. I haven’t let her see this side of me, and I really like her, Sugar. But if she sees this side of me, she’ll know how fucked up I am.” He said. His eyes were desperate. He was begging Nat for a solution. He needed to know what to do.

She pulled Carmy into a hug, rubbing his back slowly. “She sounds really good for you, Bear. I think you should tell her how you feel. She’s not gonna run away because you’re complicated. Everybody’s complicated. It’s just life. And if she makes your life better, you should go for it.” She said, giving Carmy the perfect sisterly advice.

“You really think so?” Carmy said, looking back towards the door. She just nodded and patted Carmy on the back. He slowly stood up from the couch.

Deep down he knew Nat was right, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t scared out of his mind.

He walked back through the kitchen, ignoring the chaos surrounding him as he walked towards you. As long as he stayed focused on you, he could drown out all the chaos.

He walked back into the front of the restaurant. You weren’t in line anymore. His eyes searched around for you until he saw you sitting at a small table in the corner.

Richie was still at the cash register taking another customer’s order. “I’m sorry, cousin. We can talk later.” Carmy said, patting Richie’s shoulder as he walked by. He knew if he wanted less chaos in his life, it would take a lot of effort on his part.

He walked over to where you were sitting. When you looked up at him, you noticed his hesitant smile. “Please, sit,” you said, gesturing towards the seat in front of you. He quickly nodded and then sat down.

“Hey, umm, I’m sorry that I kinda ran away earlier. I was just surprised to see you here.” He said, sheepishly. He scratched the back of his neck. You felt a small smile creep on your face. Bashful was a cute look on Carmy.

“It’s totally fine. I was shocked to see you too. I didn’t know you worked at a restaurant.” You said, smiling at him. He quickly looked up to meet your eyes and then shook his head. “I actually own the restaurant. This was Mikey’s before he died, and he left it to me.” He told you.

You noticed how happy he was when he was talking about his brother. Carmy was still bracing for you to storm out the door, and he didn’t even know why.

It was probably because in his life, good things never lasted.

Until you.

He felt a little bit of imposter syndrome with you. Like he’d been pretending to be this person with his life put together. And now, you were seeing what his life really looked like.

“I think that’s really beautiful, Carmy. You know, you running this place to honor your brother. I bet he’d be really proud of you.” You said. You gently reached across the table and let your hand rest on top of his. He quickly looked between you and your hand on his.

“Really? You don’t like…think this place is a total shit hole? With all the screaming and everything. Everything here is fuckin’ chaos.” He said, chuckling to himself. Self doubt had always been something that haunted Carmy.

You quickly shook your head, assuring him. “Just because it’s a little messy doesn’t mean it’s not beautiful. Nothing’s ever tied up neatly in a bow. Especially not when you’re dealing with family. I think it just means you care, not that you’re doing a bad job.” You said, running your thumb along the back of his hand.

He could hear his heart beating as he looked at you. Your hand touching his had goosebumps running up his arm. And when you looked at him with that smile, he felt his heart skip a beat.

“Hey, do you maybe wanna— I uhhh… nevermind, I’m probably reading this wrong.” He said, quickly standing up from the table and starting to walk away.

You giggled to yourself at his shyness. You stood up and grabbed his hand to stop him. He spun around to face you, with hope in his eyes. Because you had stopped him from leaving, which had to be a good sign, right?

You tugged him closer to you. He could feel his eyes go wide. He was trying to read every little part of your expression. You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. His stomach did a flip. He noticed how the warmth lingered on his cheek.

“Do you want to go get dinner sometime?” You asked, finishing his question for him. His shocked expression turned into a smile. “I would umm— definitely, I would really like that.” He said, fumbling through his words.

Something about you made Carmy forget how to speak. “You’re cute when you’re blushing.” You said, cocking your head to the side and admiring him.

One of his hands flew up to cover his cheeks. Carmy hadn’t realized he was so easy to read. “No no, I’m not blushing. It’s just uhhh— from the cold, y’know,” he said, failing to convince you.

You giggled to yourself. The sound was angelic to Carmy and made his stomach do somersaults. “We’re inside though.” You said, smirking at him as he was caught in his excuse.

“Oh, yeah, would you look at that,” he said, pretending to be shocked. You jokingly rolled your eyes at him. He stepped forward, cupping your cheek and kissed you softly. You rested your hands on his sides as his lips softly moved against yours.

You both pulled away with giant smiles on your faces. “I really like you.” He admitted, interlacing his fingers with yours. You felt your smile grow even wider. “Likewise,” you said, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“I want to introduce you to someone.” He said, leading you back to the office to introduce you to Sugar.

It seemed like a weird choice, but for Carmy, it was him bridging his two lives together. He didn’t want to keep them separate anymore. He wanted you to be in his life, his real life, not the life he pretended to have.

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[bloatedandalone04]

Crossing that Line

➪the one where you and bradley drive each other crazy in more ways than one, but would do anything for each other, and all it takes is one confession to solidify your places in each others lives.

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, swearing, fluff, hint of angst, pining to the max, a whole lot of smut tbh

Word Count: 6.1k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | Happy Birthday, Rooster !

The relationship you had with Bradley was…a weird one, to put it simply.

He pisses you off more than anyone you’ve ever met, and you drive him up the wall nearly every day, but you also couldn’t stand to be away from one another. He was your person, and you were his best friend; you would do anything for each other without an ounce of hesitation. 

It was stupid, how hard you found yourself falling for him. The guy who had more confidence than he should, the guy who’s saved your ass more times than you can count, and the guy who’s taken hits for you during training, just so you wouldn’t have to hear about it later from the other guys. 

The only thing is; you had no idea how he felt about you. He was cocky, confident and hid his feelings annoyingly well, you had no clue if the shared stares meant the same thing to him that they did to you, or if you were mistaking his comments for shameless flirting. 

You couldn’t lose him, so you kept it bottled up for the last two years, and it’s been complete and utter hell. But you’d keep doing it. Because there was no telling what he was thinking sometimes, and if he was thinking about you. 

The day was slowly coming to an end, and nearly everyone was heading to the barracks, but not you. Instead of going to your room, you made your way to the hangar, knowing who you would find in there. You turn the corner and lean against the wall, crossing your arms as you watch Bradley mess around with his  F/A-18. 

You tried not to focus on the way the muscles in his neck flexed with every move of his arm, the small amount of oil littering his skin making him shine a bit as the sun set behind you. “Hey, Bradshaw,” you greet before he could turn and catch you staring at him. “Nice flying today.”

You could see the way his body shifted in recognition of your voice, and when he turned to glance over at you, he was smirking. “Hey there, Y/n/n,” he said, wiping his hands on his flight suit. “Nice to see you haven’t crashed and burned yet.”

Shaking your head, you ignore the fact that it was just you and him left in the hangar now. “Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

Bradley shrugged, grabbing a cloth from off a table and wiping his hands. “Could be kinda entertaining,”

You gasp, placing your hand over your heart. “Wow, ouch,” you mumble. “And here I am thinking I’d probably be heartbroken if the same thing were to happen to you.”

He laughed, turning to face you. “Please, we both know you’d be the first one to poke fun at me for crashing,”

You press your lips together and shrug. “Yeah, probably, but I’d also be the first one to make it over to you,”

Really, you’d probably die of a broken heart if something were to happen to him, but he didn’t need to know that right now. Or ever. 

Bradley’s smirk softened and he looked down at his boots. “I know you would,”

And now you were picturing what it would be like to live without him, and you could feel yourself beginning to panic a bit. 

Smiling, you shake your head again before giving him a conflicted look, wanting nothing more than to walk over to him and press the neediest kiss to his lips and tell him you were so fucking in love with him. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Bradley,” you say quietly, watching as his brows furrow.

“Wait,” he said, making you hold off on leaving just yet. “Something on your mind?”

“No,” you say too quickly for it to sound true. “Nope. I’m fine, Rooster. I’ll leave you alone now.”

His eyes narrow and he throws the cloth somewhere behind him as he steps towards you. “Why are you lying to me?”

You let out a surprised laugh, pushing yourself off the wall. “I’m not,”

“Uh huh,” he hummed, moving so he’s standing right in front of you. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Your face heats up and you quickly look away, squinting as your gaze meets the bright sunset. “Okay,” you trail off, glancing at him one last time before stepping away. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Bradley.”

He looked like he wanted to say more, maybe continue to call you out on your awful attempt at lying to his face, but his shoulders dropped slightly as he nodded casually. “Yeah, okay,” he agreed, moving away from you and back towards his jet. “See you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

Oh, how you loved and fucking hated when he called you that. It made you crave him even more than you usually do, and it also made you want to punch him square in the face for having such a strong effect on you. 

“Don’t overthink too much,” he added, glancing back at you with a teasing smirk. 

“I’ll try,” you whisper, and no more words are shared as you leave the hangar and quickly walk across base and towards the barracks. 

-

Bradley knew you weren’t telling him something the second he saw your conflicted look before you tried playing it off right after. He wanted to push you on it more, but wasn’t sure if he even had the right to since it was pretty rare for things to become serious like that between the two of you. 

He was still in the hangar, the arms of his flight suit now tied around his waist as he finally decided to stop touching his jet and leave it alone for the rest of the night. Like usual, his thoughts were taken over by you, and he wondered what would’ve happened if he didn’t let you leave so easily earlier. What could he have gotten you to say? Why did you suddenly become so closed off and serious in the middle of your usually playful banter? 

He almost didn’t want to know, but he also kinda wanted to know. 

It was late, but not too late for it to be deemed unacceptable for him to stop by your room before retiring to his for the night. So instead of taking the first hallway in the barracks corridor, he went past it and turned left a few feet down the hall, instantly recognizing your room without him even meaning to. 

Bradley debated on whether or not he wanted to intrude on your night or save it for tomorrow, but with you he often found himself saying fuck it and hoping for the best. So he knocked.

After waiting for only a few seconds, the door opened and you poke your head out with guarded eyes, your gaze softened once you saw that it was him. “Bradley?” 

He smiled, crossing his arms and leaning against the frame, mirroring your stance back in the hangar. “Hey,” he greeted. “Hope I’m not bothering you too late.” 

You shake your head and smooth out your messy hair, and he knew you were probably in bed, trying to sleep but failing miserably to do so. During one of your thousand talk sessions, you mentioned how much you hated sleeping in the small, single beds here and couldn’t wait to start looking for apartments in the area. Bradley hated them, too, not because he couldn’t fit properly in them, but because whenever he laid down for the night, he was reminded of just how fucking lonely he really is. “No, you’re fine,” you give him a tight smile, one he knew was played up. Still, it was a pretty one nonetheless. “What’s up?”

Bradley’s gaze raked down your body, subtly checking out your attire of a loose, long sleeve button up and leggings. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. You seemed off the last time we talked,”

“What, a few hours ago after a day of being in the air?” You laugh, running your hands down your face as you avoid eye contact with him. Now he knew you were hiding something for sure. “Yeah, I’m good. Great, even. I’m great.” 

Bradley raises his brows, a huff escaping his lips after. “You are such a terrible liar,” he grunted, watching as you immediately looked down to the floor. “See, you can’t hide anything from me, sweetheart. Just tell me what’s up.”

You looked up at him with an expression he’s never really seen on you before, and it had him straightening up a bit. “You’re really not going to drop this, are you?”

“No,”

You glance down at the floor, pulling at the sleeves of your shirt. “I didn’t mean what I said earlier,” you confessed quietly. 

Bradley’s gaze softened and he tried to get you to look at him, but you weren’t letting up. “What part?”

You shrugged, keeping your head down. “About how I would laugh if you crashed and burned,” you whispered. “I wouldn’t laugh.”

Bradley tenses up a bit at the sudden change in tone and atmosphere, looking around your small and neat room. “I know you wouldn’t, I was just messing with you,” like we usually do.

“No, Bradley,” you mumbled, still not looking at him. “I mean it. I’d be devastated if that were to happen to you.”

“Hey,” he said softly, reaching over to gently grip your chin with his thumb and forefinger. “I know…I know. I was just messing around…I didn’t expect…” He trailed off, suddenly aware of how close he had gotten to you. He had never touched you like this before, only ever going as far as a quick hug after a risky mission or a dangerous stunt in the air. 

You furrowed your brows as you met his gaze with guarded eyes. “Didn’t expect what?” 

Bradley inches even closer. “I didn’t expect that you’d care this much,”

Your eyes widen a bit as you look up at him. “Of course I care,” you gasped in disbelief, laughing after and breaking eye contact again. “Maybe too much.”

But he didn’t let your eyes wander far as he still had a hold on your chin, and he guided your face back to his. “What do you mean by that? ‘Too much’?” He asked, his eyes wide, any traces of his earlier teasing gone. 

You give him a pleading look. “You know what I mean,” 

Bradley held your gaze, noting your frustrated expression. “Maybe I do,” he murmured, caressing your jaw with his thumb. “But I want to hear you say it.”

“I can’t,” you shake your head and he could see the way you played with your fingers out of the corner of his eye.

“Why not?” He pressed, invading your space with another step. “What are you so afraid to tell me?”

You give him another pleading look, but he doesn’t step away. “I’m afraid of putting something out there that I can’t take back,” 

When you moved to step away, Bradley’s hands reached for your hips, anchoring you in place. He had never been this close to you before, never touched you like this before, and it was driving him insane. “Tell me,”

“Bradley,” 

His gaze intensifies, his head dipping down closer to yours. “Say it, sweetheart,”

Your eyes were wide with anxiety as you parted your lips to speak. “I…I’m in love with…you,”

Though he had a small feeling that he knew - or maybe hoped -  you were going to say that, his breath still got caught in his throat. His heart was beating loudly in his ears, and his skin was on fire. No one had ever made him feel this way with a single sentence, and he wasn’t all that surprised that it was you. “You’re in love with me?” He asked, needing to hear it for confirmation. 

A blush takes over your face as you shake your head and step away. “I-I didn’t…fuck, I’m sorry, I don’t-” you stuttered and he could see the tears gathered along your eyes. “I just messed everything up. I knew I would.”

Bradley’s eyes widen at the sudden loss of contact, and he shakes his head, too. “No, no, wait. Don’t…don’t apologize,” he rasped, running his hands through his hair. “Don’t be sorry. It’s…it’s okay.”

You stare at the floor and nod. “Okay,”

Your heart was on your sleeve now, and he knew he had to be careful. “Sweetheart…look at me,” he softly demands, stepping towards you and closing the distance you created. 

“Can’t…I can’t,” you quickly shook your head but he lifted your chin with his fingers. 

“Please,” he whispered. “Look at me.”

Slowly, your teary eyes met his and you looked like you were already building walls up to protect yourself from him, and that was the last thing he wanted. Seeing your eyes glazed over like this was damn near enough to break his heart, and Bradley took a step closer to you. 

“There you are,” he whispered, gently stroking your chin with his thumb. He held your gaze, a mixture of embarrassment, vulnerability and uncertainty. “You have no idea.”

You furrowed your brows, trying to blink away the tears as you trembled in front of him. “No idea about what?” You asked, your voice barely above a murmur. 

Bradley kept his eyes locked on yours, ensuring you knew just how serious his next words are. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited and wanted…hoped to hear you say that to me,” he confessed, watching as your eyes widened. “I never thought you felt the same way, so I never let myself think about it too much.”

Your breath audibly caught in your throat as you stuttered, “W-what?”

He smiled, his usual cocky and confident facade fading as the seconds went on. “You’re the one person, the only person I could never figure out fully. I could never tell if you wanted me as badly as I wanted you, or if you just saw me as the guy you bickered with all the time,” he continued. “You’re the one person who doesn’t care about how full of myself I am sometimes, you called me out on it. And ever since then, I couldn’t get you out of my head.”

“Bradley,” you gasped quietly, and he could see your walls starting to come down again, so he pushed further, 

“And hearing you say that…that you’re in love with me…” he trailed off, moving his fingers from your chin and tracing them along your jaw. “It felt like I could finally have the one thing I thought I never could.” 

You swallow hard, your eyes wide and vulnerable as he closes the distance further, leaving a few inches between the two of you. His fingers curled around your jaw and his thumb tugged at your bottom lip, his gaze flickering down for a few seconds. 

“God, baby,” he whispered in disbelief. “Hearing you say that…it’s all I ever wanted. You get under my skin like no one else, and you make me want to pull my hair out, but I can’t fight the way I feel about you anymore. Not after this.”

“Bradley,” you say again, at a loss for words as you reach up and grip his wrist, leaning into his touch. 

“Sweetheart,” he murmured. “Will you say it again? Please?”

He couldn’t believe he was begging to hear your words again, but the way your expression softened had him not giving a single fuck. “Bradley, I’m in love with you,” 

His skin heated up as you repeated your words, and his control finally snapped. “Fuck…fuck,” he muttered, not wasting another second as he leaned in and kissed you. He poured all the nights he lost sleep thinking about you into the kiss, all the times he held back his own confession after your usual playful banter turned serious, all the times he thought about doing just this with you. 

You kissed him back desperately, a soft moan escaping your throat as you gripped his wrists tightly. Bradley wraps his arms around your waist, pulling your body right up against his as he deepened the kiss. He walks you backwards until your back hits the wall opposite from the door, pinning you to it as his hands roam all over your body. 

He couldn’t believe, after all the nights he spent fantasizing about this, that he was finally touching you like this. Your quiet gasps against his lips had his touch growing more possessive as he felt your hands slide up to grip his shoulders. His palms were flat against your body, feeling the heat of your skin through your clothes. “God, baby, you taste so good. You feel so good,” he murmurs once he breaks the kiss and begins trailing his lips along your jaw, his body pressing yours closer to the wall. 

“Oh, my God,” you moaned, your breath coming out heavy and uneven. “Bradley.”

He always knew his name would sound beautiful coming from your mouth like this, but actually hearing it was something else entirely. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he growled softly against your collar bone, his fingers lifting your shirt up so he could feel the smooth skin of your hips. “I’ve thought about this…about you for so long.” 

Your fingers moved up to his hair, where you pulled gently. “You’ve thought about me?”

“Yes,” he answered, burying his face against your neck as his hands inched further up your body under your shirt. “I think about you all the time. I tried not to, but I was fucked from the second I saw you.”

The surprised laugh you let out had his touch growing more urgent, the only thing on his mind being more ways he could get you to make those pretty sounds again. “Why didn’t you do anything about it?” 

Bradley lets out his own laugh, lifting his head from your neck as he raises a brow at you. “I could ask you the same question,” came his teasing reply as his hands slid up your back. “But really…you terrified me. I didn’t want to ruin things and mess up our friendship if you didn’t feel the same way.”

“So,” you trailed off, looking up at him with hopeful eyes. “What does this mean for our friendship? For us?”

He lifts a hand to your cheek, his thumb brushing against your bone as he answered, “It means that I can’t keep pretending that I don’t want you. That I don’t need you, sweetheart,” he leaned in and pressed his forehead against yours. “It means we’re not just friends anymore.”

The smile you gave him had goosebumps forming on his skin and a wave of relief washing over him. “We’re not?”

Bradley shook his head. “No, baby, we’re not,” he confirmed, pressing his hips against yours as he placed a soft kiss to your lips. “You’re mine now, and I’m never letting you go.”

Your smile grows as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Bradley…I love you,”

He wraps his arms around your waist again as a warmth spreads all throughout his body. “I love you, too. So fucking much,” he mumbles before capturing your lips in another desperate, needy kiss. His tongue pokes out and nudges your lips apart, a deep groan leaving his throat as you pull at his hair. “Fuck, baby…been dying to taste you like this.” He breaks the kiss just long enough to whisper against your lips before going back in, his fingers moving to the buttons on your shirt. 

“I can’t believe this is happening,” you say against his lips. “This is happening, right? This is real?”

Bradley pulls away to be able to look you in the eyes. “It’s real, sweetheart,” he said softly before beginning to unbutton your shirt. “I can’t believe you feel the same way about me.”

“You can’t believe I love you?” You tease, biting down on your wet, swollen lips. 

His gaze darkens as he gets the final button undone, and then he lets the fabric slide off your shoulders. “Yeah. Been wanting to hear you say that for years,” he grunted, sliding his hands up your bare arms. “Been wanting to touch you like this.”

“And now that you can?” You asked in a breathless voice, staring up at him with a look he knew would be permanently burned into his mind. 

“Now that I can,” he started, his hands tracing the curve of your hips as his eyes raked over your chest. “I’m going to do everything I've been dreaming about doing to you...and then some.”

You moan, nodding quickly and making his lips turn upwards into a smirk. 

His hands move to the front of your leggings, his fingers teasing the thin fabric as his tongue runs along the smooth skin of your neck. “You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about this...about having you like this,”

“I think I might have an idea,” you mumbled, tugging at his undershirt. 

Bradley grinned, feeling that warmth return and take over his body again. He pulled away to tug off his shirt and toss it to the side, then he was close to you again. “Yeah? Have you thought about me, too, baby?”

“Nearly every day,” you confessed as his hands moved back to your hips, his thumbs slipping past the waistline of your leggings as he slowly pulled them down. “Nearly every night.”

He groaned at your confession, helping you kick off the flimsy fabric before he was grabbing your hips again. “Fuck, sweetheart, you’ve been driving me crazy for so long,”

Your head tilts back and rests against the wall as his lips pepper kisses all along the base of your throat. “You’ve been making me go insane for years, Bradley,” 

“You’re not the only one who’s been losing your mind over this,” he laughed, sliding his hands up your body until he was caressing the underside of your bra. “I hoped that this would pass, but it never did. The more time we spent together, the more impossible it became. I had this burning need to have you, touch you, taste you.”

He emphasized his words by gripping your hips and spinning you around so your back was pressed against his chest. Your gasp had his boxers tightening, his tongue tracing random shapes onto the skin behind your ear. 

“The way you smile, laugh, and those fucking looks you give me,” he ranted, his breath fanning across your neck. “All the time we’ve spent together, I had to stop myself from taking you right then and there.”

When his hands slid down your body and pulled you closer to him, you moaned loudly, leaning your head back to rest against his shoulder. 

“The sounds you make for me, fuck,” he moaned, tugging on curve of your ear with his teeth. “All I’ve been wanting is to see you fall apart for me, to hear you scream for me…beg for me.”

 “Bradley,” you moaned again, leaning into his touch as his hands found the fabric of your bra, his fingers toying with the straps. 

“I’ve needed you so badly,” he rasped, pulling the strap off your shoulder before leaning down to kiss the newly exposed skin. “I finally have you all to myself. I’m never letting you go.”

“Don’t let me go,” you begged, gripping his forearms tightly. “Please.” 

“Never,” he said in a deep voice. “You’re mine now; mine to taste all over, to make scream.” He grabs your chin, gently turning your head so he could place a firm kiss to your mouth.

You moan, reaching behind you to tug on his hair as you pressed your body against his. “I want that,” you whine and he kisses you deeper, brushing his tongue against yours. 

His fingers played with the clasp of your bra, and soon enough he had the lacy fabric sliding down your arms and landing on the floor. “I need to see you,” he nearly begged, breaking away from your lips as he groped your breasts with dark eyes. 

“Well?” You asked, breathless from his touch as you rolled your hips back against him. 

“Damn, baby, you’re so beautiful,” he commented, leaning down to suck a mark onto the side of your neck. “Been dreaming about how gorgeous you’d look all bare for me, how sweet you’d taste and how pretty you’d sound.” His thumbs slid over your nipples, the devoted attention he was giving them making you whimper. 

“Oh, God,” you bit your lip to stifle the sounds that were coming out of you more frequently now. 

“Don’t hold back, baby,” he mumbled, softly pulling at your nipples with his thumb and index fingers. “I wanna hear all those sounds you make for me.”

You oblige almost immediately, moaning as he continues to worship your chest. “I can’t believe I get to have you like this,” 

“Believe it,” he grunted, smoothing his palms over your hardened nipples as he placed open mouthed kisses on your neck. 

Your body started to shake against his, your perfect lips parting as you let out a string of whimpers. “Feels so good,”

“I’ve barely started,” he cooed, pressing his hardness against your lower back. “You feel perfect in my arms, baby.”

“I want you,” you whined, squeezing your legs together. “I want you so bad.”

“I want you, too,” he groaned, slowly rolling his body into yours, his cock growing impossibly hard. “So badly.”

His hands caressed your breasts in a feather light touch, and he felt goosebumps against his palms as you gasped. “Your hands…I’ve always wanted to feel them on me,” 

“Yeah?” He teased, tracing his fingers around your nipples again, slowly but surely working you into a whiny mess for him.

“Yeah,” you huff, shaking even more. “Holy fuck, you feel so good.”

“So do you,” he growled, pinching your breasts before sliding his hands down your body. “I love touching you like this, but I need to feel more of you.” He murmured, turning you around in his arms so he could get a good look at you.

The way you were pressing your thighs together and the lust he could see in your eyes had him biting down hard on his lip, the sight of you only in a pair of lace panties doing things to him. “Please,” you whined, guiding his hand down your body. 

His eyes rolled back slightly as he leaned his head down and began kissing your shoulders, his hand sliding down your damp panties. “You want me to touch you here?” He asked, knowing damn well what your answer is. 

“Yes, please,” you gave in so sweetly, kicking the ruined fabric aside as you stepped back into his arms. 

He presses kisses to your shoulders as his hand reaches out, his fingers running along your core. “Fuck, baby, you’re so wet,” he groaned, his cock throbbing as he felt just how worked up he made you. 

“All for you,” came your instant reply. Bradley’s eyes darkened as he circled your clit with his middle finger, the way you were trembling against him being the hottest sight he had ever seen.  “Oh, my God, yes.”

“There you go, baby,” he praised, sinking his fingers into your heat. “Give it to me, let me hear you.”

You let out another loud moan, reaching for his flight suit and practically shoving it down his legs. “I need you,” you said desperately. “I need you so bad.”

He could tell. Your wetness was dripping onto his hand as you spoke. 

Bradley kicked off his boots and added his suit to the pile of clothes on the floor, his hands gripping the backs of your thighs as he picked you up and carried you over to your bed. He set you down on your back, his lips pressing to yours as he rolled his hips. “I need you, too,” he promised, pulling away from your lips and settling his head in between your legs. “But I need to taste this pretty pussy first.”

Then he was licking a stripe up your folds and making your back arch off the bed. “Fuck!” You called out, the slick sound of his tongue against you bouncing throughout the room. “Oh, my fucking God, Bradley.”

He laughed, wrapping his arms around your thighs as he slid his tongue inside your wet walls, his eyes rolling back at your taste. “Goddamn, sweetheart,” he moaned, sucking and licking at you like a starved man. “You taste so fucking good, baby.”

“Bradley,” you moaned loudly. “Please, fuck me. I need you…right now.”

His eyes darken even more as he crawls back up your body, and you push his boxers down quickly. You wrap your legs around his waist, bucking your hips up so your core brushes against his aching cock. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby,” 

Your brows furrow as he grips his base and guides himself inside you, your back arching again as you wrap your arms around him. “I love you,”

Bradley groaned, your wetness allowing him to sink all the way inside with one thrust. “God, I love you so much,” he said back, holding you against his body as he began to rock his hips against yours. “So much.”

He moved deep inside you, the feeling of skin on skin with nothing in between making his head spin. He hadn’t even asked if you wanted him to use a condom - and he knew it would’ve been a hard task to tear himself away from you and go to his room to get one, but he would’ve done it willingly - but you both seemed too lost in each other to think about it right now. 

You felt so good. Bradley has never been this hard in his entire life, and he knew it was all because of you. “You feel so perfect,” he praised, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt you clench around him. “So tight…fuck.”

“Bradley,” you moaned, wrapping your legs tighter around him as he slowly fucked you against the matress. “You’re so big.”

Your words went right through him, a sense of pride filling him as he looked down at you with lust filled eyes. “You’re so tight,” he echoed his previous words, fucking into you harder but still keeping his pace slow. “So tight for me.”

Your eyes widened and you dropped your head against your pillow. “My fucking God, Bradley,” you gasped, shifting your hips to meet his thrusts. “Yes.”

“Say my name again,” he softly demanded before leaning down to suck a mark onto your neck. “Tell me who’s making you feel so good right now…who’s stretching you so good right now.”

“Bradley!” You cry out, pressing your chest right up against his. “I’ve wanted this for so long…knew you’d feel so good.”

“Baby,” he rasped, fucking into you faster. “You feel so much better than I could have ever imagined.”

Your arousal was dripping onto his thighs as he fucked you harder, his hips hitting yours harshly as he let all the pining and desire he’s felt for you pour out of him. “Don’t stop, please please please,” you begged for him just like he wanted, your hands pulling at his hair. 

He grunted, his eyes flickering down to where you connected. “I’m not stopping, sweetheart, I can’t,” he huffed, watching the way his cock became more and more coated in your wetness with each thrust. “You feel too good, I need you.”

“Yes…yes,” you cried, digging your heel into his lower back and driving him even deeper inside you. “Oh, fuck.”

“Say my name,” he mumbled against your skin, not caring that the walls were pretty thin and anyone who may be in the hallway would definitely be able to hear you. “Say it again.”

“Bradley!” You moaned, scratching your nails down his back. 

His movements were fast, uneven and uncontrolled now as he hiked one of your legs higher around his waist, angling his body so he could push himself impossibly deeper. “That’s my girl,” he cooed, feeling the way you clenched around him at his words. “My girl.”

“Your girl,” you repeated, looking up at him with hooded eyes. 

“Yeah,” he whispered, leaning down so his lips brushed against yours. “My girl.” 

He kissed you deeply, fucking you hard into the bed meant for one person, the sound of your muffled moans filling the room. “God, Bradley, you feel so good…so full,”

Your words were slurred as if you were drunk, but both of you were completely sober right now as you gave into your need for one another. “You feel so good, too,” he mumbled. “So perfect…so tight and wet for me.”

His words were as equally as filthy as yours were, and he couldn’t remember the last time he let himself get this lost in someone; to the point where he couldn’t care less about how dirty his mouth was. 

“I’ve never felt anything better than you, baby,” he swore, reaching down to rub your swollen and puffy clit. “Nothing compares.”

Your jaw goes slack as you let out moan after moan, his words clearly having an effect on you. “I’m so close,” 

“Yeah, I can feel it,” he groaned, rubbing and fucking you harder. His voice was rough and thick with desire, his breaths coming out ragged and uneven. “I want you to come for me. I need to feel you come.”

“Bradley! Right there,” you nearly screamed, clinging onto him with a death grip. “Right there.”

He hummed, “Just like that, baby,” he circled your clit faster, watching as you began to shake. “Come for me.”

Your body jolted and trembled under him, your release flooding around him and soaking his cock. “Oh, fuck. Fuck!” You cried, squeezing your eyes shut as you dug your nails into his shoulders.

“There you go, sweetheart,” he cooed, kissing all over your face as he felt his own release creeping up on him. “God, I never want this to end.”

You whimpered, wrapping your arms around his neck and messily kissing him. He could feel you shaking still, but you didn’t ask him to stop or pull out, instead you just pulled him closer to you and whined against his lips. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, kissing you softly as he got closer and closer. “So perfect.”

“I want you to come for me,” you mumbled in between kisses. 

Bradley groaned, licking along your lips. “I want that, too,” he said. “I wanna come for you…only you.”

“Only me,” you whispered with a lazy smile, slowly rolling your hips to meet his thrusts.

He nodded, his eyes nearly shut as he managed to ask, “Where? Where can I-”

“Inside me,” you answered, your heel on his back keeping him from pulling out too much. “I want it inside me.”

Bradley’s eyes squeezed shut as he felt his control snap. “Fuck…fuck, I’m coming, baby,” he groaned deeply, fucking his seed into your abused core. You moan quietly, running your fingers through his sweaty hair as his body shakes from the intensity of it all. He had never come that hard before, and when he slowly came to a stop, he could feel it seeping around him and dripping out of you. He also never came that much before. “That….that was-”

“I know,” you beamed, kissing him softly as you kept your legs wrapped around him. “I love you so much.”

Bradley smiles down at you, kissing you back. “I love you, too,” he promised as he rolled you onto your sides, still buried inside you. 

“Stay with me?” You asked as you kissed along his salty skin. 

After years of wanting to experience this with you and have you all to himself, he was finally able to, and he wasn’t planning on ever leaving your side again. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,”

You smile, trailing your hand up and down his back. “So…what does this mean for us?”

Bradley tangles his fingers in your hair, holding you close to him. “I want to call you my girlfriend, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Will you let me?”

You close your eyes, letting out a quiet groan. “I want to be your girlfriend so badly,”

“Then it’s settled,” he stated, pulling you even closer as a grin tugged at his lips. “You’re my girlfriend.”

Your hands slide up to his shoulder as you kiss him. “And you’re my boyfriend,”

Bradley smiled as he kissed you back. “And I’m going to make sure I’m the best boyfriend you’ve ever had,”

“You better be the best and last,” you warn playfully, laying your head on his chest. 

“Don’t worry, baby,” he laughed, running his hand along your lower back. “You’re stuck with me.”

A blush takes over your face as you kiss the scar on his neck. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” 

-

They fucked again after that btw. Happy Birthday, Bradley Bradshaw!

[moody-alcoholic]

Shopping

Next part is a monster of a chapter, so enjoy the fluff while it lasts ;)

Also 100% had this image in my head when I was writing the wedding part.

Summary: Ghoap x Reader, throuple. Slow burn (sorry but not sorry). 2.3k words. Reader is female (she/her), army nurse, non descript physical features, names used: Ashe.

CW: Implied bad family dynamic/ relationship (not reader).

Previous parts - masterlist - next part

Enjoy <3

The next morning over breakfast Simon insists Johnny go with you while you run errands. You don’t complain it’s nice to spend some time with him, you invite Simon along but he said he has some work to catch up with. You take a taxi back to your place and Johnny hangs out in the living room as you take a shower and change. 

“What errands do you need to do?” Johnny calls as you throw some clothes and pyjamas  into a backpack. You need to remember to take this to their place. 

“I need to get keys cut, and I need to go to Lush.” You pause trying to think of the other things, maybe you should have written it down. 

“Oh I need new bedding.” You walk out throwing the bag by the door.

“You okay with us having keys to your place?” He asks.

“Yeah I don’t mind, besides if I’m being honest your place is way nicer then mine.” You say. “But hey if you ever get stuck on the other side of London you’ve got a place to crash.” Johnny chuckles as you leave the flat to get a taxi. You find a key cutters first expecting it to take a few hours but it was done in a few minutes. 

“There you go.” You say passing one of the copies to Johnny.

“Thanks.” He says attaching to his keys.

“Oh I usually rent my place out while I’m working, it’s good for the extra income.” You explain.

“The army really paying you that little?” He asks, you chuckle.

“Not like that, I put all the money in savings, for a mortgage one day or a nice big holiday.” You explain.

“Where would you go?” Johnny asks as you make your way across the shopping centre. 

“I don’t know, I’d love to go to Asia, Japan, Korea, China. Or travel round Europe. I’d love to go to Iceland.” You stop yourself before you mention every country on the planet. You look up at him he’s smiling you grab his hand lacing your fingers with his. 

“Where would you go?” You ask him. 

“Simon’s always talked about taking one of those super luxurious resorts in the Caribbean.” Johnny said. 

“Oh the ones with the crystal blue waters and white sand beaches?” You say. 

“Those are the ones.” He says chuckling. Somehow you couldn't imagine Simon laid out on a sun lounger relaxing, you expected him to be somewhere cold where he could wrap up and be inside all day. You walk into Lush letting go of Johnny so you get the list up on your phone. When you look back up he’s gone. You look around, you took your eyes off him for two seconds, you walk round the display and see him talking to one of the employs, who’s showing him a bottle of something.  

“Look for your muscles.” He says holding up a pot. You smile at him walking over. The woman explains more about it as Johnny listens, he seems invested so you leave him to go grab the few things you need meeting him at the till. 

“What’s that?” He asks picking up a bottle after the lady had scanned it. 

“Moisturiser.” you say looking at it, you hear the car reader beep. 

“Would you like a receipt?” The lady asks. 

“Johnny.” You protest turning to look at him chuckling, he wraps his arm round your shoulder. You nod at the woman taking the receipt. You’ll have to pay him back later.

“Sorry, I’m under strict orders.” He says leading you out the store. God damn it Simon. You head to get some lunch which you insist on paying for since he pulled that stunt, you don’t even let him near the counter. You bring the food over sitting down.

“When did you and Simon get married?” You ask, Johnny smiles. 

“I’d been trying to convince Simon for months, he kept pushing it, there was always a mission always something going on.” Johnny stops for a second pouring a sugar packet in his coffee. “I got shot, woke up in hospital 3 days later the first thing Simon asked was when could we get married. I’m pretty sure if I had left it up to him he would have wheeled me to the hospital chapel to get married right there and then.” You chuckle opening the wrapping round the sandwich.

“Anyway I insisted we get married in Scotland, there’s this beautiful little church my grandparents got married in. Simon planned the whole thing, flowers, suits even rented a house in the highlands for the honeymoon. He may not seem like it on the surface but he’s really a hopeless romantic.” You smile at him. 

“That’s really sweet. Sorry about you getting shot though.” You say. 

“Don’t worry about it I’m still here that’s all that matters.” He says biting into his sandwich. You try to picture it in your mind Johnny and Simon getting married, you would have to remind yourself to ask to see a picture, if they had any. You’re about to ask Johnny about the honeymoon when you hear someone call your name. You turn to look. It’s Chloe walking over to you with a baby in a stroller. 

“Oh thank God it is you.” She says stopping the stroller next to you, you look down wide eyed at the baby sucking on its dummy. 

“Congratulations?” You say shaking your head at her. 

“My sisters visiting, she’s wondered off somewhere and I need to pee so bad can you just watch her for a second?” Chloe asks dropping bags by the stroller. 

“Babies hate me.” You reply. 

“Two seconds I’ll be back,” Chloe says running off. You look over at Johnny then back down to the baby who’s just blinking at you. 

“She’s cute.” Johnny says. 

“Chloe or the baby?” You ask looking at him. 

“The baby.” Johnny chuckles. You reach out with your finger letting her grip it with her hand, she is cute. You’re cooing at her when Chloe comes back moving the stroller to sit in the empty chair next to you. 

“Christ, you have no idea how stressed out I am. She didn’t even warn us she was coming just showed up yesterday. Now my mum is insisting on throwing this massive party for her and Jack and the other boys. You have to come by the way please I cannot be around that many American generals and stay sane. At least if you’re there my mum will go easy on me you know she likes you.” Chloe is talking at a million miles an hour as she reaches over picking up your tea taking a sip. 

“Your mum only likes me cos I joined the army. And Jacks not a general he’s a lieutenant at best.” You remind her. “Anyway, Chloe this is Johnny.” You say introducing him. Chloe looks up at him smiling and putting her hand out so he can shake it. 

“Holy shit you are hot. Are you army too?” She says. Johnny goes to open his mouth but Chloe cuts him off.

“Anyway he’s been promoted so he’s a big-shot now mum want’s to celebrate had dad dig out all his old contacts, now it’s a whole thing, she’s already hired the waitstaff and the musicians. And Jack inviting all these really important marine guys so now it's all a big promotion gala.” She says shaking her head. 

“You don’t go from lieutenant to general he’s probably just a captain.” You say.

“See you know this stuff so much better then me please come I’m begging you.” She says gripping your hands, you go to reply when her phone starts ringing, she picks it up. 

“Yeah, where did you go?” She asks as you look at Johnny. You mouth ‘sorry’ at him he just chuckles and goes back to his sandwich. 

“Look I’ll meet you outside Primark.” Chloe says standing up and hanging up the phone.      

“Sorry got to go it was nice to meet you Johnny, I’ll send you an invite you can bring Johnny too.” She says winking at him as she picks up her bags and leaves. 

“I am so sorry she’s a handful I know.” Your cheeks turning red from embarrassment.

“It’s okay, is she the one who filmed that lovely video?” Johnny asked chuckling. Oh God. You nod your cheeks burning. 

“Well I commend her photography skills.” He says.

“Thanks, I’ll let her know.” You say sipping on the tea trying to quell your nerves. You tell Johnny about how you met in med school and worked together until you left to join the military. Her sister married this American marine and they rarely visit so it’s always a big thing. Chloe is the only one in the family who has never shown any interest in the military and her mum resents her for that. 

“Maybe we should go to the party?” Johnny says. You scoff.

“Trust me you do not want to go, her parents are so posh, like own a mansion in Hampstead and Mayfair posh, like spend the summers in the Riviera and the winters in Switzerland.” You explain. Johnny just laughs. 

“I think it would be fun.” He says. You shake your head. 

“Her mum only likes me cos I’m in the military, it’s like a right of passage in that house, she’d have a field day with you and Simon.” You think back to the time’s you’ve been to their other party's it almost felt like you were attending a work do. 

“We’re not going.” You say wrapping the rest of your sandwich to take home. You’d lost your appetite.

You finish up the rest of your tea deciding to get the bedding another time. You get a taxi back to your flat to grab your bag and drop stuff off. When you walk in there is an invite on the floor. Johnny picks it up before you get a chance. 

“I thought you were holding the taxi?” You say trying to grab it out his hand, he’s too quick pulling it away from your grip. 

“Dear sergeant, very posh.” He teases. 

“Johnny.” You protest trying to grab it again as he opens it. 

“You are cordially invited to attend a soirée on the 14th of June.” Johnny is doing his best posh British accent as he keeps the card just out your reach. 

“Look at this part, Black tie, officer formals. Ooo auction in aid of the Royal British Legion.” He says, you sigh folding your arms as he closes the invite. 

“We’re not going.” You say. Johnny laughs picking your bag up. 

“I think we’re going.” He says walking out the door. You follow after him.   

 —————————— 

When you get back to their flat you see Simon still sat at the table with a stack of paperwork by his side. 

“Christ Si did Price send more over?” Johnny says.

“Nope, this is all last months.” He says closing whatever he was working on. 

“Guess what happened to us today?” Johnny says all excited as he puts the invite down for Simon to see. 

“We’re not going.” You say coming over to try and grab it. This time it’s Simon that’s too quick for you. Simon looks over it then passes it to you and rubs his forehead.

“We’re going.” He says.

“Simon!” You say annoyed, Johnny starts laughing. 

“We’re going because Price has been invited which mean I’ve been invited, which means Johnny gets to suffer along with us.” Simon says, he sounds even less enthusiastic about it.

“What about Gaz?” Johnny asks. 

“Training, gets a free pass.” 

“Well you boys have fun, I can’t wait to hear all about it when you get back.” You say putting the invite down and going over to the sofa. 

“Hey, you’re invited too.” Johnny says. 

“Oh yes but I will politely decline on this occasion, maybe next time.” You turn to look over at them. 

“What you’re not even going to go for Chloe?” Johnny asks. Oof, there’s that pang of guilt. Like a hot rod straight through the chest. You sigh.

“Fine! But I’m going for Chloe.” You say frustrated.  

“Who’s Chloe?” Simon asks. 

“The one who sent us the lovely video and pictures.” Johnny says. You lie back on the sofa trying to ignore the fact Johnny bought it up again.

“She’s the daughter of the host.” You say. Johnny comes over to the sofa sitting next to you. You cross your arms pulling your legs away from him. 

“What?” He says chuckling. 

“I have to buy a new dress now.” You say huffing. 

“Oh yeah, need help picking one out?” Johnny winks. 

“Simon can help.” You say back. Johnny pouts at you. 

“I bet I could find a pretty blue dress to go with my pretty blue suit.” Johnny says leaning closer to you. 

“Maybe I want to wear a red dress.” You say smiling at him. 

“Even better.” Johnny says his hands working their way up your legs. Before you can reply he’s scooped you up on his lap. 

“Johnny!” You protest, but you don’t fight him instead wrapping your hands round his neck looking down at his face. Why does he always have such a cheeky grin. You lean down and kiss him, his hand finding it’s way up your top. 

“If you two are going to have sex can you go in the bedroom, I have to get all this finished by 5.” Simon says, you pull way from Johnny, smiling. 

“Too bad, later.” You promise. Johnny pouts again, you get off his knee leaning up against him as he reaches for the TV remote.

“Do you really have a blue suit?” You ask. 

“Yeah, a red one too.” He says, winking.

“You should wear a kilt, Chloe would get a kick out of that.” 

“Maybe I will.” He says as he kisses the top of your head.

I could not for the life of me find a good ending for this.

Next part

[shegatsby]

Not sure exactly what you’re okay/not okay with as far as requests go, but I’d like to request a Hannibal x AFAB reader (or gn if you prefer) where the reader has a crush on Hannibal and discovers that he’s a serial killer and tells him she’s more attracted to him because of it. I’d prefer it ends up in the bedroom (wink wink) but it’s up to you :)

A/N; Hello love, thank you for this request I certainly enjoyed writing it. Enjoy!

Warnings; Hannibal killing a man, a little smut

First time you saw him was something else. You almost became a victim of a serial killer but thankfully a team of FBI agents and Dr. Hannibal Lecter saved you. Turns out this killer was on the loose for months and you dropping your phone in his car made them catch him, you were forever grateful. Dr. Lecter was a psychiatrist who was helping the FBI with their serial killer cases and he was also collecting data for a research of serial killers and he offered free therapy sessions in exchange of information. Seemed like a good deal.

It had been few months since you started the therapy and it was going smoothly for him but for you, you had to keep pressing your thighs together every time he played with his pen or grabbed something. Over the weeks you saw and observed tiny changes in his behavior. He started to loose his tie around his neck, rolled up his sleeves, gave your lingering looks. You also had minor changes, such as; wearing clothes that fit your body perfectly and showing your womanly figure, curves and all. You knew that revealing clothes won’t make him come to you so you started to dress elegantly, just like him.

One time you mentioned how much you like baking and he asked you to bake something for him and you did.   The next week you brought chocolate chipped cookies and he opened a bottle of wine.

He surprised you by having a cabinet in his office dedicated to all kinds of wine and you surprised him by fulfilling your promise of baking something for him. Hannibal Lecter never relied on anyone ever since he was a child, he never believed promises of people, even the ones he who are close to him because life thought him that people are deceitful animals. However, you managed to surprise him, it felt like a date but neither of you said anything about it.

Weeks went by and you kept surprising him with small things. One day, you baked a cake, it was the anniversary of you meeting him. You went to his office without telling him, it was suppose to be a surprise. Before you knocked on the door you heard some noises, a man coughing and things falling to the ground so you quickly opened the door to see the scenario.

Dr. Hannibal Lecter was on top of a man who was equally tall and strong as him and Hannibal’s big hands wrapped around that man’s throat, you halted in your steps. Your hands which were holding the container of the cake were shaking, your fight or flight response was triggered. You didn’t know what to do, in that moment you could feel everything and see, hear everything that was happening such as your soaked panties sticking to your core. You could feel your cheeks heat up, your heartbeat rising, Dr. Hannibal Lecter was murdering someone right in front of you and all you could think about or fantasies about how would you feel if his hands were wrapped around you, on his table..

When the man stopped breathing and struggling Hannibal bolted to his feet and turned to face you. His maroon eyes were startled at first but you could see his dilated pupils roaming on your body.

He didn’t  say anything, his chest heaving up and down, he closed the door and locked it, he came to you and held your shaking hands, put the container aside, ‘’Shh, I’m here, calm down.’’ Now that he was close you could see the bruises on his face, dry blood on his plump lips, blackened left eye, scratches here and there. His fingers went to put a strand of hair behind your ear, even under this strange circumstances, his eyes were soft as they addressed you.

He guided you to the couch. He sat next to you, his eyes never leaving yours. ‘’Now,’’ he breathed, ‘’What shall I do with you, little dove?’’

You didn’t respond, you were a deer caught in the lights. ‘’He attacked me, you saw what happened. I was defending myself.’’ He was so calm a sudden thought crossed your mind;

‘’This isn’t his first time.’’

Your body shivered, you knew what he wanted. He wanted you to tell Jack Crawford and others what you saw but an altered version of it, all you could do was to nod and let things happen.

It had been few weeks since that incident and you avoided your sessions with him. You made up excuses, one week you pretended like you had the cold, the other week you said you were out of town etc.

Every week he sent you a present, the week you were supposedly cold he sent you soup and warm bread, it was handmade. There was also a note; ‘’Get well soon, dove.’’

Your knees went weak with that note and gesture, the other week he sent you flowers, elegant and pure white bouquet of peony. Last week you’ve made up a lame excuse of not being in the mood and he called you on the phone.

‘’Hello Dr. Lecter?’’ you answered in a calm manner, ‘’Hello dove, I was wondering-‘’ he paused for a second ‘’why are you avoiding me. Well, I know the reason but I want to hear it from you.’’ You felt your heart go faster, subconsciously your thighs were pressing hard, ‘’It is best that I don’t join the sessions anymore Dr. Lecter.’’ You said out of breath, hearing his voice after a long time did something to you. He let out a devastatingly long sigh, you felt it in your core. ‘’I was hoping it doesn’t come to this.’’ He sounded tired and defeated.

You imagined him sitting in his office, sleeves rolled up, playing with his pen while talking to you. You wanted to rush to his aid, he was a busy man with a hectic schedule, you wanted to give him something to come home to. The thought of it made you get wet.

‘’Thank you for testifying on my behalf.’’ He sounded genuine.

At first he thought you would tell the truth but when you told everyone exactly what he told you he was impressed. There was something about you that he couldn’t put his finger on. He sometimes had this urge to pull your brain out and study it because you fascinated him profoundly, but then the thought of physically hurting you made him feel disgusted, which was rare in his case.

‘’You saved me,’’ you said remembering the night, he was the one who wrapped you in a blanket and carried you to the ambulance, he was the one who sat and waited by your side in the hospital.

‘’and I saved you, the debt is paid.’’ Your free hand slowly went to the waistband of your pjs, sid in and found your aching core, he cannot possibly realize can he?

‘’My little dove, hearing you say this breaks my heart, your life is not a burden.’’ He knew how you feel about yourself, a freak, a burden..

You loved the way he said ‘’dove’’ his accent thick, you wondered what else is thick about him. You wanted him to keep talking to you.

‘’Where are you right now? And be honest.’’ His tone had a warning, such dominance.. ‘’H- home.’’

Hannibal wasn’t a stupid man, he admired your boldness, talking to your therapist while touching yourself.

‘’Good girl.’’ He loved your honesty, maybe you were the only person who was honest to him from the start ‘’What are you doing?’’ he asked, even though he knew it.

Your panties were soaked, ‘’Laying on my couch.’’ You managed to say, his hand went to stroke his clothed member, he swallowed, ‘’I was asking as in.. action wise.’’ He teased. You were rubbing your wet cunt slowly, you let out a sigh. A pornographic one to be exact. ‘’Nothing-‘’

He didn’t let you continue, ‘’Tell me, do you always dream  of me when you touch yourself? His question shocked you, at first you thought you heard him wrong, but the silence continued. Cat was out of the bag, he caught you. ‘’Yes.’’ You said. Hannibal could feel himself getting harder. He stood up, locked his office door, you heard it. He sat back and unzipped his pants, he never thought he would be doing this in his office, well, he also never thought he would kill someone in his office but here we were.

‘’What are you wearing?’’ he asked, feeling like a school boy but it excited him. ‘’Nothing.’’

It was right, the second you heard him lock the door you took off your clothes, ‘’Clever girl. I assume you’re dripping wet, I have neglected you for so long, keep touching yourself.’’

Hannibal leaned back, stroking himself, his tip leaking, ‘’How do you dream of me?’’

One hand in your core the other touching your boob –he was on speakers- you spoke, ‘’Sometimes on the table, sometimes on the couch or in your bed. Pushing me down and taking me..’’

You remembered the scene, he was on the ground on top of a man and choking him. It made you moan. Your soft whimpers and divine voice made him stroke himself faster, ‘’Put two fingers inside sweet thing.’’

You could feel the shift in his voice. You moaned louder than before as you inserted your fingers, you were so wet he could hear it clearly. ‘’Every time I come from your office I touch myself.’’ You confessed, which made him growl, he was regretting that he didn’t take you before. He knew that you were interested in him from the beginning, he thought it was because you were in shock –due to your unique condition which is almost being murdered- and you were seeking shelter. He assumed over the weeks your fascination with him would disappear but he was wrong.

He was about to lose his mind because of the sounds you were making ‘’Stop!’’ he ordered and you followed. ‘’Wait for me.’’ And he hung up.

Never in a million years he would think of sleeping with a patient but you changed his mind, he got into his car and drove.

[anandrettisimp]

Okay, so I need to do a bit of a ramble about one of the biggest couple goals in recent motorsport.

I am, of course talking about Will and Liz Power

Now you’ve gotta understand that they basically started at Team Australia/Walker Racing within a couple of months of each other with Will doing the last two races of the ‘05 Champ Car season and Liz joining as part of the PR team in February ‘06. They had met and interacted but it wasn’t an easy start for Liz.

You see, between Long Beach and Houston, which was to be the first race she would attend in person, her Dad, Bo, had a stroke and required quadruple bypass surgery. It was only at the last minute that she felt she could do the race only just making it in time for the team bus leaving for the airport.

Will sat beside her, making sure she was okay (apparently all he really wanted to do was hug her).

Eventually Liz was asked by team boss Derrick to befriend Will for two reasons:

He basically knew nobody

Australian media wasn’t happy that Australian driver at Australian back team wasn’t dominating series he had only just started in.

Part of the way Derrick sold this to her was by describing Will as a lost puppy but, at the same time, she wasn’t to date Will or she’d be at risk of losing her job.

Well within a couple of months they were dating because what do you expect when you take two people in emotional vulnerable situations and tell one of them to get close to the other.

It should be noted that around the same time Will had already asked mutual friends if Liz was seeing anyone.

Simon Pagenaud knew from the start and was even Will’s wingman from time to time and helped them hide the relationship while Liz’s family became part of Will’s rock in America. Liz’s mum Kathy is Will’s PA lady and basically the only person he trusts to buy and choose his outfits (cause left to his own devices you will know he is colourblind).

Of course it got found out but between how well Will was doing by the end of the season and how professional Liz had been in her role all was good.

Over time their careers would split, Will moving to KV Racing then Penske (with Liz being heavily involved in helping him prep for the interview) while Liz had stayed with Walker Racing until the end the going on to Dreyer & Reinbold Racing before calling time as she found it was too much to do PR at one team while your husband races at another.

And, honestly, if I was a racing driver’s partner I’d probably be in a similar state to Liz, murdering all the bottles.

Their son Beau, named in honour of Liz’s dad who had sadly passed away in 2007, was born in 2016 but after the birth there were complications which resulted in Liz having to go back into hospital in Christmas Eve, luckily she was able to recover.

Towards the end of 2022, as Will won the championship for a second time, Liz again was starting to get ill. Come January 2023 she had a fever of 106 and Will had to call an ambulance.

It turned out that she had a staph infection that had settled in her spinal column and the only way to save her was to do an operation.

She almost didn’t make it.

Will pulled out of the Daytona 24 but he almost retired full stop.

He had to be there for his family.

She got better though she was back in the hospital just before St Pete.

I think you had to be an idiot to not see that Will was off balance last year. This was a man who was doing everything he could to take care of his wife and then going to races by himself.

The support system that he has depended on since his first full season racing in America was gone.

For the first time since 2007 he failed to win a race.

It wasn’t until the final races last year, with Liz finally back that he relaxed. He even said he was just happy the season was done.

This year everything is back to normal or as normal as it could be after going through something like that.

But, most importantly, Liz is back.

There’s already been a couple of weekends, be it after practice, qualifying or the race where you can see Will come out of the car hot and all it takes is Liz being there a couple of words and he calms, ready to speak to the team and media.

We already know if Liz hadn’t gotten better when she had then we don’t have Will leading the championship right now because he would have chosen her and Beau over another season.

Heck, if he wins the championship this year I wouldn’t be shocked if he decides to end his career on that high so he can spend more time with the one who stood by him through it all.

[munsonkitten]

Steve hovers.

Eddie doesn’t really blame him. Not after what happened last time.

He doesn’t trust himself either, not really.

So Steve hovers in Eddie’s space while they assemble their weapons. Eddie’s on Molotov duty this time around, pouring kerosene into glass bottles that Steve holds steady. He took over Robin’s task with one look between her and Steve, and one clap on Eddie’s shoulder accompanied by a ‘you’re with me, Munson.’ Robin’s over with Nancy and Max now, counting ammo and loading guns.

Steve follows Eddie when he says he has to go take a leak, following him through Hopper’s new front door and down the hall to the bathroom. He follows Eddie just about everywhere these days, never letting him out of his sight.

It’s a bit annoying, the complete lack of privacy. Well, not complete, as Steve stands on the other side of the closed door, but still not much either. It feels like Steve can hear his every breath, every shuffle of his feet against the linoleum floor.

He pulls down his jeans, sits down on the cold porcelain seat and drops his face into his hands. His hair falls forward, and he knows he should find a hair tie to pull it back at some point, but he hasn’t done that yet. He doesn’t want to think about the looming battle. He doesn’t want to get ready for it.

“You know,” Steve says when Eddie comes back out of the bathroom. “No one would blame you if you just hightailed it out of Hawkins. If you go find Wayne and keep him safe, you know.”

“What, and leave you all behind? I’d be the asshole of the century, Harrington,” Eddie mutters, wiping his hands on his pants.

“Eddie, you almost—”

“I know, Steve,” Eddie snaps. “I know. I almost fucking died last time. Okay, but what? I should just run while all my friends are dying here? Because that’s what’s gonna happen, you know that, right? We’re all going to fucking die, and I’m just supposed to, what? Be completely alone after you all do and I don’t?”

Steve doesn’t say anything, just crosses his arm over his chest, and shrugs.

“Say I should leave again and I’ll kill you myself,” Eddie says, pushing past Steve with enough force to push him into the wall.

Then he stops, shakes his head, and turns. Steve’s still standing there with his arms crossed protectively over his body. There’s a quickly masked hurt expression on his face when Eddie first looks at him, and his heart breaks in two. He shouldn’t be fighting with Steve, not when he’s just trying to save him.

He sees it on his face, clear as day, that Steve doesn’t want to have to carry Eddie’s lifeless body out of the Upside Down again. Especially not now when they’ve had a year to get close and become friends. When Steve spent weeks after that first time trying to nurse Eddie back to health, hidden away in his big empty house, keeping Eddie a secret from the outside world, all while learning secrets about Eddie in the process.

They’ve become close, and Eddie shouldn’t be fighting with him when this could be their last day on earth.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” Eddie says. “I didn’t — I don’t mean that. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Probably not,” Steve agrees. “But it’s okay that you did. I won’t mention it again.”

“Really, I’m — I’m sorry, man,” Eddie says. “I don’t know what got into me.”

“You’re stressed out, man,” Steve says, like it’s so simple, like it excuses what Eddie just said to him. “Once I told Henderson I was gonna knock his teeth into his skull. Shit happens.”

Eddie covers his face with his hands and takes a breath. He’s not a violent person, but he is stressed. He doesn’t think he’s ever had very many good outlets for his feelings other than music, but he hasn’t been able to listen to the stuff he wants to at the volume he prefers the last few days, not with everyone congregating in one place, cooped up in Hopper’s new house. He doesn’t have his guitar, doesn’t even have a notebook to write lyrics into.

Everyone’s a little bit snappish. Everyone’s scared. They’ve all said things they don’t mean, turned around and hugged it out with tears in their eyes. He saw it happen being El and Hopper earlier, saw it between Max and Mike yesterday. Even Nancy, always so calm and collected, yelled at Jonathan for moving her shoes.

Now it seems like it’s Steve and Eddie’s turn.

“C’mere, man,” Steve says softly, opening his arms up for Eddie.

Eddie falls into his embrace, lets Steve wrap himself around him.

It seems like, over the last year, they’ve both been finding reasons and excuses to touch each other. Eddie used to pretend there was something on Steve’s shirt just so he could run his fingers over his chest. Steve used to tell Eddie, long after his wounds healed, that he wanted to look at the scarring on his back to make sure everything was still looking okay. It would result in tender caresses that sent shivers down Eddie’s spine.

It’s never been stated. It’s never been acknowledged.

They never talk about the times Steve comes over and crashes in Eddie’s bed with him, pretending to accidentally fall asleep while they’re smoking together, as if Steve doesn’t put on his pajamas and curl up with his head on Eddie’s pillow each time. They never mention the wrestling, down on the ground with Eddie straddled over Steve’s stomach, never mentioning it when Steve flips him over and pins him down with his hands wrapped around Eddie’s wrists.

The hair washing, back when Eddie couldn’t reach above his head. The hair washing even long after Eddie could. The hands over foreheads checking for fevers, the hands spread over matching scars to make sure nothing’s gotten infected, the hand holding between them on the couch during scary movie scenes that don’t actually scare either of them.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says again. “You’re my best friend.”

Steve squeezes him a bit tighter, presses his forehead to Eddie’s. They breathe each other’s air for a second before the front door slams open and they jump apart.

Someone walks through the house, out of their line of sight. Eddie doesn’t know who it is, or where they’re going, but he grabs Steve’s hand and pulls him into the bathroom. He doesn’t want to be seen, not with tears streaming down his cheeks and his hands shaking the way they are.

He wants to be alone with Steve for just a little while longer.

All this hovering and Eddie still can’t get enough of him.

They sit down with their backs against the side of the bathtub, arms brushing between them. Eddie reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

“You’re covered in kerosene, dude,” Steve says, shifting a few inches away from him.

“I washed my hands,” Eddie says around the cigarette in his mouth. He lights it, giving Steve a look that says see? It’s fine when he doesn’t go up in flames.

They sit there for a few seconds before Steve snatches the cigarette out of his fingers.

“I thought you quit,” Eddie says, just like he says every time Steve does this.

“I told you,” Steve says, bringing it to his mouth. “I only smoke when I’m with you.”

“You’re always with me,” Eddie shoots back.

The smile Steve gives in return makes Eddie want to kiss him right here. They don’t do that, though. Eddie… Eddie’s never done that. Never kissed anyone, even though a year ago he said he’d do all the things he wants to do before he dies again. He told himself he wouldn’t die a virgin again, and he laughs to himself now at the memory.

It’s not like he cares about the concept of virginity, or anything. It’s a social construct, and all that, but he’d be a fucking liar if he said he didn’t want to have some kind of sex with someone at some point.

“What’s funny?” Steve asks.

“Not funny, just… You know, it’s like… The last time I almost died, I thought to myself, great, I’m about to die a twenty year old, never-been-kissed virgin, with no high school diploma, and all I’ve ever amounted to in my life is shredding Master of Puppets in hell. Told myself I’d fix all that before I die again.”

Eddie sighs, takes the cigarette back from Steve and brings it to his lips.

“And the only thing that has changed,” Eddie continues as he blows smoke out of his mouth. “Is that I’m twenty-one now instead.”

“Well,” Steve says slowly. “I can’t fix the high school diploma or the whole amounting to anything part of it. But…”

Eddie holds his breath. There’s no way Steve’s about to say it. There’s no way they’re finally going to acknowledge that something is going on between them.

“But,” Eddie repeats. Prompts. Says it so Steve knows he can keep going, that he doesn’t need to be afraid.

“But I could fix the never-been-kissed part. If you wanted me to,” Steve says. “And, um, the rest of it.”

“The rest of it,” Eddie says slowly.

“If you wanted,” Steve says again. He shrugs, looking down at his hands in his lap. “I… If not, that’s — it’s fine. I just thought, you know.”

“Yeah,” Eddie whispers. “I know.”

Silence stretches between them for a few minutes while they finish the cigarette. Eddie drops the butt into the toilet and flushes it. Wayne always gets on him for doing that at home, but what Hopper doesn’t know won’t hurt in the next twelve hours before they all die.

“Fuck it,” Eddie says. He pushes to his feet and offers a hand to Steve. “Let’s go on a supply run.”

“A supply—” Steve starts, confused. He looks at Eddie, the look that Eddie is giving him, the words he’s not saying, as he takes Steve’s hand and pulls him up. Understanding dons on Steve’s face, and then he smirks. “Oh. A supply run. Got it. You… you’re sure?”

Eddie shrugs. “As I’ll ever be.”

Read the rest on AO3

[e-dubbc11]

Ik the summer sleepover is long gone 🥲 But i got hit with Matt Murdock feels and I saw the angst prompt list. Feel free to ignore this!!!!!

So this is for my fave catholic hoe 🫠

"You have to let go." - Y/N's already dead and he keeps hallucinating that she's still there

or

"I give up. You won." - Y/N breaks up with Matt because he always keeps her at arms length but it reaches breaking point when Elektra comes back

Chose wisely 😭💖

I could never ignore anything you send me, my dear friend ♥️ I hope you like what I did. I went with the first one BUT your second prompt reminded me of a Matt fic I wrote awhile back called Unsung Hero, so if you’re feeling ambitious, I’ll leave it linked HERE.

Thank you for always sending me things that pop into your brain, I love them ♥️

Letting Go

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F! Reader

Warnings: Death, dealing with grief

Word Count: 1.4K-ish

Summary: You’ve been gone for awhile yet Matt still feels you everywhere he goes, he swears you’re there with him but you’re not and in order to start processing his grief, he has to say goodbye

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

It hit him every time he walked into the apartment. It was here where he felt an overwhelming sense of your presence…only you weren’t there, you had been dead for 8 months now.

Reminders of you were scattered all over the apartment like stray pairs of earrings on the nightstand, a bottle of your favorite perfume, or the blanket you used to when you were quietly reading on the couch.

Not having his sight, Matt was never exactly sure what you looked like. He only had the pictures in his mind. Based on the description you had given him, he knew your eye color, your hair color, and the tone of your skin but he remembered the softness in your voice, the curves and hollows of your body, and the sound of your heartbeat as you slept soundly next to him.

Matt could never see your smile but he knew when you were smiling. He felt it tug on his heart as it stretched across your face when he did something to make you laugh or when he called you “sweetheart” but it also crushed him to taste the salt in the air if you had been crying.

He loved the smell of fresh flowers you would bring home every Friday for your date night at home but you always bought ones that didn’t have a strong scent because you didn’t want it to be too overwhelming for him. He loved how considerate you were, worrying about overloading his senses, like if the music was too loud or if cleaning products were too strongly scented.

Matt’s only wish was that he could have kept you safe, he wished he could have protected you, and more than anything he wished he wasn’t the first one to hear your heart stop beating.

Everywhere he went, he felt you with him, and he swore you were there. When Matt stopped for his morning coffee or Thai food, he had to stop himself from ordering your usual. He just couldn’t believe you were gone. You were dead and never coming back.

The guilt ate at him every day. Matt blamed himself and his nights as the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen suffered because of it. “What’s the point in doing this if I couldn’t save the one person I loved the most?” He had asked himself after a particularly bad night.

Talking to Father Lantom helped but not as much as he hoped it would. Matt wanted answers that Father Lantom didn’t have. He would just tell him that “God had his reasons.” And Matt just thought he was being punished in every way possible. It was the typical Catholic guilt.

“I know you don’t wanna hear it but you know exactly what I would do, Red. I’d make sure they’d never get back up again.” Frank had said.

By asking Frank for advice, you knew Matt’s desperation was apparent as he had seriously contemplated taking their life. He knew it wouldn’t bring you back but maybe it would make him feel better knowing he avenged your death.

Maybe the hallucinations would stop, maybe he would stop hearing your voice in his head, and just maybe it would stop him from reaching for you as he was trying to fall asleep at night. The scum of Hell’s Kitchen felt his wrath every night and with every punch he landed, with every drop of blood that was spilled, he had hoped he would start to feel better but he didn’t.

And what about the tortured and unspeakable dreams where he would have to hear you cry out in pain over and over again. The heartbreak Matt felt left him miserable enough to be vulnerable whether he was awake or asleep.

At least when he was awake, he could throw himself into his work, talk to Foggy and Karen, and you would be far away from his mind. It was the alone time that left him confused, angry, and ashamed. Those feelings infiltrated his body where his heart was scorched and irregular with spasms.

“I still feel her here, Foggy! I can still smell her perfume, feel her smile against my lips, and hear her laugh. I swear she’s still here!” Said Matt, emphatically.

“But she’s not Matt, she’s gone.” Foggy had said.

You knew all of this was true because you were stuck in between worlds, you could see him. And like an angel on his shoulder you were there with him, protecting him as he was protecting his city.

As he sat perched on the rooftops of Hell’s Kitchen, you would reach for him, gently brushing his shoulder, and you were positive that he could tell you were there by the way his head would tilt to the side. You knew you couldn’t stay with him forever, but long enough to be able to tell him goodbye and that you were alright.

With his cheeks flushed with rage and his mouth twisted in anger, Matt left the office and headed for home even though that’s where he felt your presence the most.

He decided not to go out that night but instead he set aside the random belongings that you had left behind, held them in between his fingers, and gently inhaled the scent of your perfume one last time.

“You’re here with me now, aren’t you angel. I know you are; I’m not crazy like Foggy thinks I am.” Said Matt.

You’d give anything to be able to touch him again, to feel his days-old stubble against your cheek, or run your fingers through his soft brown hair.

You weren’t sure what you were feeling but knew you didn’t have much time so you moved in close to look at him one more time.

Matt was so handsome. You were going to miss his hazel colored eyes with the little flecks of gold like autumn leaves, the dimple on his cheek when he smiled, his soft full lips against yours, and the low gravelly tone of his voice. It always sounded so calm and soothing to you except on the night you died.

His screams could probably be heard for blocks in every direction but he was the last thing you saw before your world went dark and you were suddenly looking down at your body while Matt tried and then the paramedics tried to revive you.

After your funeral, Matt stayed after everyone else had left and apologized profusely for not being able to save you. Matt had to let you go but he told himself that burden of guilt rested on his shoulders. Although, you knew it wasn’t his fault.

You knew he couldn’t hear you but you replied anyway.

“I’m here, Matty, but I have a feeling not for much longer.” You said, trying to touch his hand but it just passed straight through and maybe you willed him to hear you as you spoke again. “You have to let go.”

You sensed he was ready to say goodbye which pained you more than that mugger’s lethal stab wound ever could.

“I don’t want to but I have to let you go, sweetheart.” Matt said as his eyes shined with unshed tears. “I’ll always love you, y/n.”

If you were capable of crying, you would have.

“I’ll always love you too, Matt.” You said with a warm smile and “touching” his face.

He closed his eyes and let out a long exhale just as you swept your hand across his cheek, almost as if he could feel your touches.

A slight smirk stretched across his lips as he said, “You’re trying to tell me you’re ok, aren’t you.”

Your hand ghosted against his other cheek and he smiled again.

“I’m ok, Matty. It’s alright, you can let go now.” You said.

The light at your back was calling to you. It was time to go. Although you didn’t know where you were being called to, you wished with all your heart that Matt would be alright and deep down, you knew he would be.

As you turned to walk away, you gazed at Matt one last time, committing to memory what he was wearing, the look on his face, and any other small things you never wanted to forget about him.

You loved the way he adjusts his glasses, rolls the sleeves of his dress shirt up, the way he puts his suit on in the morning, or anytime he kissed you and told you he loved you.

You wondered if he had little things about you he committed to his memory, and if he did, what were they? It made you sad that you’ll never know what they could be but you hoped that Matt Murdock would never ever forget you.

Tag List: @munsonownsmyass @gijos @chezagnes @elgrandeavocados @freshabogados @matt-erialgirl

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @k-marzolf @fluffyprettykitty @hellskitchens-whore

Thank you for reading, I appreciate it! I’ve only tagged a handful of people. If you liked it, you can tell me, I don’t bite. I know I haven’t written for Matt in awhile, no pressure.

[momolady]

Harvey the Orc: Part Two

Orc - Neighbors - Haunted House? - Friends to Lovers - Unrequited Crush Female Reader x Male Monster Part One

Something upstairs fell, and there was a loud noise. You furrowed your brow and listened closer. There was a rapping above, like someone tapping their fingers over and over against the floor. You stood up, put on a hoodie over your pajamas left your apartment, and ,walked directly to Harvey’s.

He answered his door, looking a bit disheveled. “What’s wrong? Did your closet collapse again?”

You pointed up. “I think something is wrong with Mrs. Gilbert.”

Harvey furrowed his brow and rubbed his eyes. “Well, shit, let's go see.”

You both took to the stairs, ran up them, and went to Mrs. Gilbert’s door. You knocked at first but heard no reply.

“Mrs. Gilbert?” You called out, knocking while you did. “Mrs. Gilbert, are you okay in there? I heard a loud noise.”

You heard something that sounded like crying from inside and you looked to Harvey in distress. You tried the doorknob, but the door was locked.

Harvey put his arm across you and moved you aside. “Stand back.” He reared back a bit and by this time the other neighbors had come out to see what the ruckus was about, Harvey rammed his shoulder into the door, and luckily the old lock broke with ease, the door swinging open wildly from the sheer brute force..

You rushed inside, finding Mrs. Gilbert on the floor. The neighbors called paramedics while you and Harvey tended to Mrs. Gilbert in the meantime.

Eventually, Mrs. Gilbert was taken away and her family was contacted. You and Harvey sat at the bottom of the stairs near your apartments, winding down from the events.

“Well,” Harvey huffed.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

Harvey turned to look at you. “Glad you heard that. You saved her.”

You tucked your hands into your sleeves, curling the sleeve inward so your entire hand was encapsulated. “I just feel exhausted now. It’s been a day.”

Harvey put his arm around you, letting you rest your head upon him. It felt nice, it felt warm. You closed your eyes for a second, letting yourself drift away into his embrace and the scent of his soap. He rubbed your arm gently then sighed.

“You’re probably tired.” You sat up and quickly adjusted yourself. “I don’t want to keep you up or anything.”

“Don’t worry about it, you’ve had a tougher day than I have,” he chuckled. “Haunted closet, falling neighbors, I feel like if I leave you alone something else would happen.”

‘Something would probably happen if the two of us were alone together.’ a thought spoke up in your mind. You shook it away, but your face blushed nonetheless.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine. What else could possibly happen?”

Harvey knocked his knuckles upon the stair you sat on. “Knock on wood, be careful what you say. This building can hear you.”

You smirked. “Right. Right.” You stood up with Harvey, feeling very close to him all of a sudden. You looked up at him, enjoying the way you had to tilt your head up to do so. A lump formed in your throat as you gazed up at him, the idea of being alone with him was very, very appealing, especially after the day you had been through.

Despite your best efforts, your mind wandered a bit as you imagined what could possibly happen. Snuggling on the couch. Cautious hand placements. Curious glances. Oh and what if there was kissing? What if the kissing leads to something else? What if something else went on until morning?

“Well, good night then,” Harvey yawned.

Your thoughts snapped like a rubber band and struck you right in the face. You nodded to Harvey. “Yeah! Pray nothing else happens to me,” you laughed. “Good night, Harvey.”

You turned back into your apartment, hitting your head against the door in frustration. “Coward. Chicken!” You fussed at yourself. “You work yourself up like that, of course, you’re gonna fuck yourself over. Come on!” You went to the fridge, took out a bottle of water, and cracked it open.

After a few deep drinks from the bottle, you sighed heavily. “As if I’d know what to do with him once I got him.” You pulled your hand out from the sleeve and looked it over. “Bet he’s pretty big.” You thought about how tall Harvey was, how big his hands were, how thick his thighs were. Your face grew warm as you imagined him stripping off his clothes, his shirt tugging over his belly, his chest, the curls that coated him. His fingers then nimbly undid his pants, revealing the bulge growing in his underwear.

‘I bet he wears black boxer briefs,’ you thought to yourself. ‘Just a little support is all he likes.’ You bit your lip, laughing at your own ridiculous thought. “Still though-” Your mind continued watching him undress, tugging down his underwear to reveal to you what was hidden beneath.

“Green eggplant,” you murmured dreamily. You put your hand between your thighs, squeezing around it as you took another drink of cold water.

There was a knock on your door and you quickly yanked your intruding hand out. You panicked for a second, then went to the door and cleared your throat. “Who goes there?”

“Sorry, it’s me,” Harvey sounded despondent.

You opened the door and looked him over. “You okay?”

He huffed and rolled his eyes. “Something is up with my water. I saw your light was still on, so  I figured I would check yours.”

“Oh, sure.” You went into the kitchen and turned on the sink. “What’s going on with your water?”

“It won’t get hot, so I can’t get a shower.”

You wanted to laugh. “Oh thank goodness, it's your turn, it's off me.” You ran your hand under the water. “Mine is getting warm. Why don’t you grab a shower here then?”

Harvey sighed. “You don’t mind?”

Finish the story for free on my Patreon!

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | . . . | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

Steve, Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, and Eddie exchange looks. “Can you tell how long?” Nancy asks.

“Less than a day,” El says, sounding apologetic. “Other than that…” she shakes her head and slips the blindfold off. “I am sorry.”

“You’ve done more than enough, El,” Robin soothes. “Thank you.”

“We have to go after her.” Nancy looks pleadingly at Steve. “You want to save her, too, right? Not just Will?”

“I do,” Steve nods. “I didn’t know how long we’d have. I’d hoped we’d have more time, but it looks like we’ll have to go in twice: once for Barb and Will, and once to kill Vecna.” He looks around the room, focusing on the three boys. “I know Will was the artist, but Lucas, I know you can draw too. If we get you a map, can you find points and direct us?”

Lucas sets his jaw and nods. “I’ll do my best.”

“Okay. Here’s the plan, then: you three, stay here with El.” He looks at Dustin, Mike, and Lucas. “We’ll have walkie talkies, so we can keep in constant communication. El, how long can you stay in that space?”

She looks at him steadily. “I can do it.”

Steve looks at her, then nods. “I trust you. Robs, you’re with me?”

“Just try and get rid of me, Dingus.”

Dingus? Jonathan mouths to Nancy, who shrugs.

“Nance, Jon, and Eddie. You’re with us. We’re getting in and out as fast as we can. If all goes according to plan, we’ll have two more people coming with us on the out. They’ll be weak, but between the five of us, we can and will get them out safely. Robin, you stay here, direct the weapon-making. Make sure I get a bat. I’m going to go get walkie talkies, masks, and a whole lot of first aid supplies.”

“Got it,” Robin nods, then points at Eddie, Jonathan, and Nancy. “You three, with me.” She leads them to the backyard, and Steve knows she’s bringing them to the shed, where his old sports things and various tools are.

He looks to the boys. “Keep working on those plans. We’ll need them for the second attack. El, do you want to rest before we begin?” She considers it, then nods. “Okay. You know where the bed is. I’ll be back in less than an hour, alright?”

She nods and begins climbing the stairs. Steve looks around once more, taking stock, then grabs his keys and walks out the front door.

He gets to the store no problem, walks inside and starts filling his basket. Seven walkie talkies, seven masks, seven pairs of goggles, antibacterial cream, bandages, a suture kit, some ice packs. Two bottles of pain pills. He thinks about it, then makes his way to the front desk, smiling at the employee. “Hey, could I use your phone for a minute, please?”

He looks at Steve, unimpressed, then shrugs and gestures towards it. Steve thanks him and dials his home number.

“Hello?”

“Dustin. Do me a favor and get Eddie?”

“Yeah. One second.”

He hears Dustin yelling for Eddie as he walks outside, then a minute later, Eddie’s on the line. “Hello?”

“Hey, Eddie. I grabbed some pain meds, but I’m wondering if they’re going to be strong enough. I can pay you, but could you…”

“Yeah, no, I’ve got it. And no, dude, you’re not paying me. Not for this. I’ll head home and get them right now.”

“Perfect,” Steve says. “Thanks so much, Eds, you’re a lifesaver.”

“Uh, y-yeah, no problem. I’ll, uh, go now.”

“Okay. I’ll probably beat you back. See you there.”

“See you,” Eddie agrees, and they hang up,

Steve looks around for a few more minutes, finds a package of nails, adds those to his basket and goes to check out.

He’s well aware he probably looks like a serial killer, but he knows from experience the cashier is blindly scanning his items.

His luck runs out when Chief Hopper walks in and ambles towards the checkout counter. Steve does his best to keep the sigh internal. “Chief,” he says, giving him a little nod. The chief returns the greeting, peering over into Steve’s basket.

Steve suddenly becomes very interested in the gum options.

“What’s all this?” Hopper asks, inclining his head towards the basket.

Steve shrugs. “A few different things.” Please accept it, please accept it, please accept it-

“Like what?”

Dammit. “Uh… well, I noticed I didn’t have a first aid kit, and I figured I probably should, y’know? And I wanted to do some work around the house.”

Hopper grunts. “The masks and walkies?”

“Um.” Steve blanks. “It’s for a game with my friends?”

Hopper sighs. “If I get a call from your neighbors-”

“You won’t,” Steve says. Promises.

“Fifty-one sixty-four, sir,” the cashier says. Steve’s never been more grateful to be interrupted.

He pays, grabs his things, and sends Hopper a salute on his way out the door. He notices Hopper watching him as he leaves the parking lot, and he forces himself not to speed on the way home.

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[tototalks]

Two thirds into Prince’s Gambit and it is NON- STOP 🤩

I am having an excellent time and brain is firing on all cylinders!! 🚀

- “No one expects me not to be a snake, so in a dramatic turn of events, I’m not gonna be a snake.” Gotta respect Laurent’s self-awareness and reputation lol.

- ORLANT??!! Damn bitch, you didn’t last five minutes. No way he’s the real snitch surely?!

- “Bro, you may be a slave but you saved the wine. YOU’RE ONE OF US.” - Honestly, I remember a similar conversation happening back in uni with bottles of vodka lol.

- Laurant first initiating contact with Damen and ordering him to sleep 🥺

- Ooooh you know that blue dress is coming out on EVERY anniversary at some point in the far future. What a gift. Respect sex workers folks.🩵

- If Jord is the traitor I’m gonna actually cry and y’all will NEVER hear the end of it.

- I keep hearing about Nikandros!! VERY intrigued about Nikandros!! Already sensing I will be a big fan of Nikandros from the way Damen speaks about him. Plz tell me we meet him!??

- Damen somehow manages to always end up in Jord and Aimeric’s business. They could literally decide to screw on the moon and Damen would be there accidentally poking his head around the corner.

- I’d work for Halvik. She’d give me health insurance. What a girlboss. - I appreciate that she looked at Damen, then looked at Laurent and went “oh yeah, he needs to fuck” - later solves their heir problem I suppose! 😂

- My only gripe is that you’d think she’d provide a bath after, because sex without washing is NASTY. Damen is gonna regret it when that UTI hits.

- I also like how even though Damen just had sex with however many women, it still manages to be a bonding moment for him and Laurent afterwards. In many ways, I think the coupling fire was a way for Laurent to ‘test the waters’ and learn about Damen in a way he’s comfortable and safe.

- Guion, Ambassador to Akielos, turning up and going “ew what’s an Akielon doing here?” ✨Diplomacy✨ no wonder there’s a fuckin war.

- Aimeric sees ONE SUGGESTIVE THING and is immediately like Dearest ✍️ Gentle ✍️ Readers ✍️ and the whole camp is up in their business. Payback I guess 😂

- Damn. That dying Akielon managed to rip the heart out of Damen’s chest before accidentally putting it back in calling him the true heir. And he was so right. My king 👑

- AYO DAMEN WITH THE SWORD THROW!!!🗡️ But wait! There’s more! The symbolism of him taking a Veretian sword against his own countrymen for Laurent! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA I’M CRYING NOW THANKS C.S. PACAT!

- And okay we’re getting kidnapped now??!! What an evening.