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tinyluvs · 2 days ago

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⁺‧₊˚ tentacles 𖤐 rain&dewdrop ˚₊‧⁺

❥ summary; rain and dewdrop’s tentacles come out to play :)))) ❥ warnings; t4t raindrop, tentacles, dew has one, rain has two. cunt, pussy, clit, folds, dick, used for their anatomy, tentacles are girls, so they’re referred to accordingly with fem pronouns ❥ authors note; i hate this n i’m sick so, probably not the best ❥ wc; 2.8k ₊˚⊹♡⁺‧₊˚𖤐 read on ao3; ˗ˏˋ ꒰꒰ here !! ꒱꒱ ˎˊ˗ 𖤐˚₊.⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

it’s late into the night when dewdrop roughly types out a text to rain. she wants to play, is all it says but rain will know what he means by that and while he doesn’t really expect rain to be awake at three in the morning, he has to try, he’s desperate

she has been keeping him awake for hours, writhing around frantically beneath the surface of his skin and forcing pools of slick to soak through his boxers. the problem dewdrop has is, she’s picky, fussy, won’t come out for him ninety nine percent of the time. she wants rain.

within seconds his phone buzzes lightly against his pillow and something in dew’s stomach twists. checking his phone confirms what he already knows, rain is awake. sure, he’s only sent that thumbs up emoji dewdrop hates but now is not the time to lecture rain on how sarcastic one little emoji can look, he’s, she’s, desperate

it’s not long before rain is slipping into dewdrop’s room, minutes if that, sending streaks of light from the hallway across the darkened room, “hey,” rain whispers as he locks the door behind him. he sounds desperate too, dewdrop notices, like he’s been waiting for this as well

“c’mere,” dewdrop whines, one of his hands doing a silly grabby motion at the water ghoul while his other hand disappears down under the waistband of his boxers, his fingers slipping over his stiff clit which is bathed in slick

rain chuckles lightly as he, sort of, hops across the room, shoving his pyjama pants down his legs as he goes. he knows the drill, there’s no point in wasting time. once he’s only clad in his boxers, a pair that look suspiciously like dew’s, only then does he clamber onto the bed

dewdrop’s thighs fall apart almost instantly, letting rain settle his body between them, “she being picky?” rain asks, still hushed and low given the early hour, as he presses kisses to dewdrop’s jaw. he doesn’t really have to ask though, he can already feel the damp spot on dew’s boxers through his own

“uh huh,” dewdrop whines and sinks his fingers into the silky soft skin over rain’s hipbones, stretched tight and sensitive underneath the prick of dew’s claws, “make her come out,” he all but begs, too driven with need to care about how pathetic he sounds

“yeah, okay,” rain sighs, hovering to brush his nose against dewdrop’s for a second before smushing their lips together and then, he starts to wiggle down the bed, peppering kisses over the fire ghouls ribcage as he goes, right over the scarred remnants of his gills

before rain has even managed to get comfortable between dewdrop’s thighs, the fire ghoul is rolling his hips up and shoving his boxers down just enough for rain to pull them the rest of the way off, dropping them down the side of dew’s bed for him to find in the morning

there’s a slick wet sound when dewdrop parts his thighs again, spreading his pussy inches away from rain’s face. he’s pretty, his dusky little cock peeks out between his folds and he’s completely drenched in his own slick

“can see her,” rain comments, eyes focused on the smooth patch of skin just under dew’s clit where, beneath the surface, his tentacle is wriggling, threatening to come out

dew’s fingers thread through rain’s hair, “make her come out,” he repeats, punched out words leaving his mouth as he tries to tug rain closer to where he wants him but rain simply blows a stream of cold air over his cunt, “rain,” he whines with a shiver

ideally rain would take his time, coax her out slowly but neither her, or her owner, seem to be willing to wait any longer than they have to. the skin holding her back has thinned enough to prove dew has been trying to get her out for a while already and rain isn’t mean enough to make him wait

“c’mon then,” rain whispers and leans in to kiss dewdrop’s clit, leaving his lips coated in slick, “c’mon pretty girl,” he whispers again, though his tone shifts, getting lower as he talks to her

dewdrop’s tentacle writhes, pressing hard against the membrane standing between her and her favourite ghoul, who is not the one she belongs to. rain gently pets at where she’s hidden, biting on his bottom lip as he focuses

“she knows,” dewdrop pants, the rest of his sentence failing to come out as his back arches a little under rain’s gentle touch, “she k-knows it’s you,” he tries again, whining high and reedy

rain can’t help but smile, “she always does,” he sounds a little smug but he’s earned it, dewdrop can’t chew him out for it, “y’gonna come see me?” he asks, her, not dew

there’s a moment of silence, both ghouls holding their breath in anticipation as dewdrop’s body finally seems to give way, the tiniest little slit starting to spread, “s-she’s, fuck, she’s coming,” dew cries, his fingers tightening in rain’s hair

“i kn- oh,” rain gasps, his body jerking a bit as dewdrop’s tentacle forces her way out with a splash that drips over rain’s neck and chest, “there she is,” rain coos over the moan rumbling out of dewdrop

she’s shorter than she once was, thinner too. the transition dewdrop went through took away most of what she was, slippery and pearlescent, covered in little suckers now reduced to scales that are reminiscent of burnt embers, dark on the surface with a glowing orange hidden underneath

rain thinks she’s gorgeous, dewdrop would argue that she’s not but he never wins. she seeks rain out almost immediately, her few inches curling around his fingers in excitement, she’s missed him

“feel better?” rain mumbles, to dew this time, though his attention is still on his cunt. gentle scales rub against his fingers and it sort of tickles, he can’t help but chuckle

dewdrop sighs, content finally, “yeah, c’mere,” he huffs, pulling on rain’s hair to try and get him back up the bed. rain grunts but goes, leaving his hand between dewdrop’s thighs as he flops down on his side next to the fire ghoul

subconsciously, rain’s thighs press together, no subtlety in his obvious arousal for the situation in front of him and the way dewdrop is grinding his hips to push his cunt further against his hand really isn’t helping

“yours comin’ out to play?” dewdrop asks him through a soft pant, his head rolling to the side on his pillow to look at rain through long lashes, “she wants them,”

rain gives a short nod and retracts his hand from between dew’s thighs, ignoring the whine that catches in the back of dewdrop’s throat so he can undress himself the rest of the way, his boxers joining dew’s on the floor

“both of them?” rain asks and dew’s stomach swoops low as it’s his turn to nod. it’s not unheard of for water ghouls to have two tentacles but it is extremely rare. somehow it makes sense that rain is one of the ghouls who managed to get lucky

it’s rarer that his tentacles are better behaved than most too, loyal to their owner and his needs, unlike dewdrop’s fussy little princess. so, as dew pulls one of rain’s thighs over his stomach, spreading rain open and exposing him, the twin set of tentacles in his body seem to get the message

“fuh-ck, they’re right there,” dew moans as he snakes his fingers down between rain’s legs, tips pressing right under rain’s little clit where he can feel both tentacles waiting patiently, not writhing around frantically like his was

rain pants a short, uh huh, as he reaches back down to dew’s pussy, still soaked and slicked up enough for rain to rub tantalisingly slow circles over his clit, aided by dew’s tentacle twisting around his fingers

the speed in which rain’s body submits is almost annoying to dewdrop as he feels the telltale little slit starting to thin and form underneath his fingers, “they’re coming?” dewdrop half tells and half asks rain

“shi-, yeah,” rain whimpers and his eyes flutter shut. his fingers still over dewdrop as he takes a second to concentrate on the feeling, the desperate urge to suddenly have them out weighs on him as he bares down, until

the flood of slick that splashes over everything, always makes both ghouls jump. double the tentacles somehow means double the slick, so, as rain’s girls surge from his body, his thighs, dew’s hand, forearm and his bed, all get soaked in the process

“fuck rainy,” dewdrop moans, they both do, as his drenched hand gets, gently, attacked by two sets of suckers, latching onto anything they can find, “pretty girls,”

and they are, they’re both long, thick at their bases and thinner at their tips. they’re a pretty pearlescent colour that reflects pastel pinks and blues and both littered with suckers that can, and will, attach themselves to anything

dewdrop wrangles them into his fist, sliding the length of them and back down, almost jerking them off and rain keens, his hips stuttering forwards to push his tentacles further through dew’s loose fist

“come here,” rain chokes through a moan and paws at dewdrop, softly handling his body until dew’s back is pressed flat to rain’s chest, “let me, them, fuck you, please,” he huffs a hot breath over dew’s shoulder

whatever swooped low in dew’s stomach earlier, does it again, the intensity of it has multiplied though, “yea-, fuck, yeah let ‘em,” he groans, bumping his ass back towards rain, thighs spread and cunt exposed, willing and ready

having two tentacles makes rain’s job too easy, they’re stacked one on top of the other, joined at the base inside of rain’s body. so, the one on top, closest to dewdrop worms it’s way forwards, slipping between the fire ghouls folds

the one on the bottom, closest to rain’s drippy little hole, goes right there, curling itself downwards so the tip can circle around his entrance teasingly. they’re well behaved, not perfect

rain’s hand slips along the back of dew’s thigh, holding it up just enough for his tentacle to explore, “o-oh fuck,” dewdrop grunts, his chin to his chest so he can watch his own tentacle excitedly twisting around rain’s, a filthy press of scales to suckers

“y-yeah,” is all rain manages to reply, his jaw clenching and teeth pressing together because he can feel everything. the warmth and wetness of dew’s pussy, the harsh slip of scales against his tentacle and then his own cunt, his hole clenching around nothing as his tentacle continues to tease at it, never dipping past the surface

neither ghoul really wants to take much more teasing but it’s dewdrop who moves first. his hand shoots down between his legs, fingers separating his tentacle from rain’s, “i need it, so bad, just fuck me,” he pants, guiding rain’s tentacle back to where his body is leaking copious amounts of slick

slowly, and at the same time, both of rain’s tentacles push in. one pressing into dew’s body and one into his own, both surrounded by wet, searing heat, “fuck, it’s tight,” rain groans, his head tipping back. whether he’s talking about him or dewdrop is unclear, they’re both tight

his tentacles seem to hear him and though he has little, to no, control over them, they both seem to get thicker, stretching both ghouls out nicely as they venture deeper, their suckers clinging to all the soft spots neither of them can reach on their own

“you’re s’big,” dewdrop moans wantonly, his head tipping back onto rain’s chest. he stares up at the water ghoul, who’s panting and squeezing hard at his thigh, “kiss me,”

normally, dewdrop wouldn’t ask for anything, he’d just take but he’s already too far gone to make the effort. he just pouts and tips his chin up, hoping that rain takes the hint

and he does. rain grunts through gritted teeth as his tentacle buried deep inside of dewdrop presses deeper, right up against the fire ghouls cervix, “could slip right in, you know,” rain murmurs as he presses his lips to dew’s, silencing the whimper he was half way through

it’s a messy kiss, their lips barely touching before they part and rain’s tongue is pressing against dew’s. rain’s hand leaves dew’s thigh, sliding up his body to wrap around his neck, not really squeezing, just holding him still so rain can take, and take, and take

dewdrop’s hand shoots down his own body at the same time, his fingers slipping over his little dick quickly and in turn, he clenches down, tighter around rain, making the water ghoul moan into his mouth

“m’not gonna last long,” rain manages to huff between kisses. it’s not exactly a secret, neither of them ever last very long once their tentacles come out to play, dewdrop usually tips over the edge faster than he does though

rain’s tentacle, the one buried to the hilt inside of himself, mirrors the one inside of dew as they both start to pull out, to the tips, only to fuck straight back into the holes they’re preoccupied with, “shit, me neither,” dew finally whimpers when rain pulls away to moan

both of their stomachs wind tight as slick wet sounds fill the darkened room. every movement of rain’s tentacle drawing more slick from both of their cunts until they’re dripping wet, soaking large spots into dew’s sheets

a particularly harsh press of the tip of rain’s tentacle to the soft little spot inside of him, makes dewdrop frantic, his need to cum rushing to the forefront of his mind, “rain-y, make me cum, please, make me cum on her,” he rambles as his body writhes in rain’s grasp

the sudden desperation does everything for rain, his own stomach twisting as heat licks at his nerve endings, “f-fuck, yeah, okay, m’trying,” he grunts, willing his tentacles to do all the work for him as he shoves his hips forwards against dew

they’re reduced to soft pants, soft ah, ah, ah’s, as rain’s girls do their job. they continue to mirror each other, speeding up and curling deep inside of each ghoul, forcing their suckers to softly pinch and pull at too sensitive skin

dewdrop starts to fuck back onto rain, jerked movements of his hips that make rain grunt, his head hanging to watch dew moving over his tentacle, “she’s getting fatter,” dewdrop points out, only knowing that’s the case as his cunt is stretched wider

he’s not wrong though, both of them have doubled in thickness, alerting both ghouls to rain’s impending orgasm, if the stream of moans flowing from his mouth weren’t enough for that

“shush, i’m trying to wait, for you,” rain whimpers, tensing his stomach tight to try and hold it off. his hand slides over dewdrop’s hip, his fingers joining dew’s at his fat little clit, both of them rubbing and circling over the sensitive skin

rain’s thumb rubs at the scales on the underside of dewdrop’s tentacle and that seems to do it. the fire ghouls pussy flutters around rain at an alarming speed, “gon-, oh shi-, she’s gonna make me cum,” dewdrop whines and starts to nod, his wet fingers intertwining with rain’s

“cum, now, with me, droplet,” rain cries as his orgasm starts to pull through his body, both of his tentacles almost splashing in and out of them both with how wet they are and within seconds, dewdrop follows suit

they cry out, loud enough to wake up everyone in the abbey as rain’s tentacles pulse inside of their clenched cunts, flooding both of them with thick warm slick until they’re spent and falling limp, almost slipping from their bodies

dewdrop’s tentacle pulses feebly, a thick string of slick dripping from her, over both ghoul’s hands and onto the sheets, joining the already large puddle that’s formed under both of their bodies

“m’tired,” dewdrop mumbles once the post orgasm haze has settled heavy in his mind. his body goes lax, his weight pressing back into rain, who rolls them onto their backs

“fuck dew,” rain chuckles, brushing his soaked thumb over dew’s knuckles. he brings them up to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to each one, ignoring the slick that covers his lips once more, “gotta change the sheets,” he cringes as cold wet fabric sticks to his skin

before either of them can move though, they gasp “oh,” and shudder as rain’s tentacles slip free, retreating partially back into their owners body

finally, dewdrop rolls to face rain, a lazy, sleepy, smile on his face as he leans in to press an open mouthed kiss to the centre of rain’s throat, “or, we can sleep in your bed and change the sheets later,” he murmurs

rain chuckles, “yeah, okay but you’re paying me back” he grunts as he tries to move, the sensitivity between his thighs making him hiss slightly

“pay you back? pay them back,” dewdrop frowns playfully as he gestures to rain’s tentacles, “they did all the work, they’re good girls,”

dewdrop just smirks as rain shivers at his words, his mind swimming with possibilities to pay his favourite girls back for their hard work

thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! & comment! i’ll give you a kiss if you do, mwah! send prompts to my ask box!

lemme know if there’s mistakes, i’m too ill to look right now ♡

𖤐 ghouls masterlist

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mylovesstuffs · 1 day ago

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Habits OT13 picked up from being with their s/o

Request: Hello can i request: habits svt got from being with their partners?pls🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

Seungcheol – Checking in more often

Before dating you, he wasn’t the type to text much. But now, “Did you eat?” “Did you get home safe?” “Feeling okay today?” He started doing it because you always checked on him, and now it’s second nature.

Jeonghan – Saying “I love you” more often

He always showed love through actions but because you’re someone who expresses affection verbally, he started doing it too. Now, he randomly whispers “I love you” when you least expect it, even in the middle of teasing you.

Joshua – Mimicking your slang & speech patterns

If you have specific phrases or a certain way of talking, he 100% picks it up. One day, the members hear him say something like “Oh, slay” and immediately know that’s from you lol (reminds me of, very demure very mindful video of Joshua).

Jun – Adopting your little happy dances

If you do a little wiggle or jump when you’re excited, guess what? Jun does it now too. He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it until someone points it out.

Hoshi – Subconsciously leaning in for forehead kisses

Since you always give him forehead kisses, he now leans his head forward whenever he’s near you—whether he’s sitting next to you, hugging you, or even just standing around. It's muscle memory at this point.

Wonwoo – Laughing more openly

He’s always had a quiet, subtle laugh, but after dating you, he’s more open with it. You make him so happy that now he laughs more freely, even throwing his head back sometimes.

Woozi – Saying “hmm?” whenever he doesn’t hear something

You always go “hmm?” instead of “what?” when you don’t catch something, and now he does it too. The members were so confused when he started doing it because he never used to.

Dokyeom – Holding onto your sleeve or hand while talking

Since you have the habit of lightly grabbing his sleeve or hand while chatting, he unconsciously started doing it back. Now, when he’s excitedly telling a story, his fingers find your wrist without thinking.

Mingyu – Making your favorite drink/snack without thinking

It started when he would see you make the same drink/snack every day. Now, before you even ask, he’s already preparing it for you. Muscle memory kicked in hard.

Minghao – Subconsciously mirroring your habits

If you tilt your head when thinking, he does it too. If you rub your thumb against your lip when focused, he’s caught himself doing the same. He mirrors you a lot without even realizing.

Seungkwan – Complaining about things exactly like you do

You have a very specific way of ranting, and now, whenever he complains, he sounds just like you. The members immediately clock it when he says something in your exact tone and phrasing.

Vernon – Listening to your favorite songs on his own

Since you always play certain songs, he started liking them too. Now, you’ll catch him humming your favorite song while doing random things, and when you ask, he’s just like “Oh yeah, it’s good.”

Dino – Copying your way of texting

If you use a lot of emojis, type a certain way, or have a texting quirk, he now does too. The members were so confused when he suddenly started sending hearts or using cute speech.

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kabr0ztrousers · 3 days ago

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Hiii :)))

I’ve been reading your work for a while now and its. so. fricken. good. 🥵🔥🔥 Seriously, you’re great at writing! Love! Also I have a request for you, I know you have a few on the docket but I wanted to send you one for whenever you have time/if you like it! It took me a bit to decide to send one (i was shy..) Anyway

I have sooo enjoyed your minotaur stories and I love the idea of the minotaur farm. I was thinking f/human + m/minotaur. She applies to work at the farm having a secret lust for the beasts and wanting to become a breeder (she doesn’t end up getting hired as one) BUT obvi she ends up getting bred secretly without her bosses knowing 👀 Some edging/orgasm denial and definitely him dominating the hell out of her!! Also knotting and him being in heat would be so hot… Thanks for taking the time to read this!! Again love your work xx

(hopefully will be submitting again so if the 🪽 emoji isn’t taken yet, just know that’s me!) thanks!!! 🖤❤️‍🔥🖤

Hopefully this is the same 🪽 anon I gave that emoji to before, because I saw that ask before this one!

Kabr0z Writes episode 57: Ranch-hand

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: group sex; sharing; mmmf; giving fellatio, including throatfucking; masochism; service top; creampie; size difference; edging; squirting; unprepared anal; hucow mention; alcohol use; coerced alcohol use (kinda); alcohol intox; hair pulling; impact play

A/N: I skirted the line a little here with the CWs, the POV character goes to the location to get aggressively fucked, and I tried to communicate her getting off on hair pulling and impact play, even going so far as to help the first minotaur along. On the other hand, I'm not sure if that'll cross lines for people so that's why you're getting spoiled in the a/n - it's still real good though and I hope you enjoy

########################################

You'd first applied for a job as a cow. You knew the ranch kept human livestock, they weren't the most subtle about it, and you'd had more than enough of the office 9-5. Of course, you didn't get the job. It's not a job you apply for, and it's definitely not something you'd find on anyone's CV.

Whatever. You'd gotten over it and quit your shitty desk job anyway. Who knows, you might be able to make a living selling pictures of your feet. Your phone pinged. An withheld number texted you. No name, just a time and the address of the farm. What did you have to lose?

You knew the way already. The minotaurs who ran the place seemed not to understand the concept of aerial photography, so allowed the women to graze, stark naked, on the field away from the road. Sure, you can't see it as you drive by, but if you know what to look for it really stands out on the LandSat data. The drive wasn't even far, though it's a little strange to be wearing so little on the way. You'd decided to only wear a skimpy nightgown, so your bare legs were sticking to the faux leather seats of your car, to say nothing of the snail trail coming from your slit. It's funny, if you're right, you're going to a life somewhere between monastic ascetic and sexed-up hedonist. Despite hoping to never see your clothes again, you'd still dressed in something you wouldn't care if it got ruined.

You turned off the main road. It's still about a mile of field until the farmhouse, but the road here isn't paved. Your tiny Vauxhall bounced up the path, snaking up switchbacks until halfway up the hill you arrived.

The house isn't large. Despite the three minotaurs living there and working the ranch, the building was about as large as your home (former home) and you wondered how they managed it.

You opened the door of your car. The cold predawn air made your nipples stand on end, pointing out of the almost-translucent fabric of your nightie as you walked barefoot to the door and knocked.

No answer.

Not even a peep. You wished you'd brought your phone to check the text, but knew better than to take a tracker with you to get semi-kidnapped into an illegal fuck-slave ring. That just seemed like a no-brainer. You knocked again.

Still nothing.

You tried the handle.

It opened. You stepped in, the front door went to a vestibule where you wiped your muddy feet before going further into the house.

Now the living room. A couple of well-worn sofas, a pile of beer cans in one corner and the remains of a takeaway littering the coffee table. The kitchen looked to be in a similar state, empty bottles of vodka and other cheap spirits on the counter, the fridge door ajar.

Someone had a good night

You padded up the stairs. The warmth of the house causing your goosebumps to settle down, but your nipples still stood out as you explored the house.

Four doors at the top of the stairs, the bedrooms and the bathroom, each opening onto the windowless landing. You picked at random. Snoring echoed through the upper floor, these minotaurs weren't light sleepers, especially after putting away enough booze to hospitalise a baseline human. You pushed the door, the latch clicking lightly as it opened and the smell of liquor hit you. The minotaur lay in his bed, mostly naked, still clutching a bottle of supermarket-brand whiskey.

You turned, meaning to leave the tiny bedroom, mostly filled with bovine beefcake. A hand grabbed your face. The smell of the liquor and last night's curry filled your nostrils.

"What you doing here?"

"Mmmmph!" You tried to speak through the hand over your mouth, but couldn't make a sound.

The minotaur pulled you into the dark room and forced you back onto his bed. The neck of the whisky bottle was at your face. The hand over your mouth moved, you opened and he poured the cheap spirit into your mouth. Great gulps went down your throat as the rest covered your face. The smell of the alcohol filled your senses, drowning out the smell of the man gripping your face. Your head started to spin as the alcohol hit you, filling you with warmth.

Even semi-hungover, he looked good, and this is why you came here, after all.

You were staring at each other. He looked puzzled. His thumb was next to your mouth. You opened a little wider, letting it slip in as you angled your head to suck on it, tasting the warm liquid on it. Slowly, he was getting the message as you held his hand to your cheek and slid off the bed onto the floor.

You yanked off his boxers, leaving him totally naked in front of you as you knelt on the pile of clothes next to his bed. You looked at his sheath, using one hand to rub it, marvelling as the flared head of his cock rose from it.

You licked the end, kissing it and rubbing your face on it. The hand on your face had softened already, feeling you rather than holding. That wouldn't do. You took his hand gently and put it on the back of your head, curling his fingers into your hair as you bobbed your head. His fist tightened, you felt your cunt twitch as he pulled on your hair.

You took his cock deeper in your mouth. You needed to encourage him a little, but he was pushing you down on it now. You helped him push himself past your throat barrier, forcing the thick cock down past your tonsils, feeling the flare pop in, out, in, out.

One hand juggled his balls, each one the size of a duck egg, the other slipped up your nightgown, one slender finger teasing your leaking hole.

You could hear him groaning, the sound mixing with your lewd slurping and moaning.

A hand banged on the door

"Jim! Turn off the sound! Fuck sake!"

"S'not a video" your minotaur groaned out

"The fuck?" The door opened. Another minotaur stood in the door, looking down at you

You saw him grin. He slipped off his sweatpants and started grasping his sheath, the cock rising in his hand.

They lifted you to the bed. Jim sat in front of you, his cock in front of you, glistening with slime from your throat, a strand of your spittle linking the twitching end with your lips. The other cock was behind you, pressing gently against your cunt. Your arms were being held behind your back, one huge hand keeping both wrists in place. You let your tongue dangle, eyes locked with the minotaur in front of you as both his hands gripped your hair.

The cock behind you sank in. Your eyes crossed

"Oh, yes, give it to me" you moaned

Neither of the minotaurs held back. The one behind you hilted himself in you as your throat was filled again. Every inch of his cock was being used, pulling almost out of your pussy before that flared end slammed back down into you, his hips hitting yours and hammering your face another inch down his brother's cock. Again and again, he pushed you forwards, each time the cock got deeper down your throat. Your eyes watered, the alcohol was keeping your gag reflex down, but he still hurt going this deep. You could feel it in your cunt, oceans of wetness lubricating the cock claiming your nethers. You felt yourself starting to clench, to twitch. You rode his cock even as he abused your hole. You're nearly there...

He pulled out. Your cunt clenched against nothing, the throbbing ache running down your legs and up your belly. Your hands were still pinned to the small of your back as the cock in your throat started to pulse. The one behind you slapped your ass before stuffing three fingers into your cunt, twisting them, massaging your hole as his brother spurted hot, thick, salty cum down your throat. There was so much, if it wasn't for the wide flare sealing your throat off you could feel it would be squirting out of your nose. As it was, you swallowed it down. Your swallows pulled him in further, your body trying to force the foreign object down. He pulled out instead, flare popping out of your mouth as he rubbed the blunt end of his cock on your face, mixing his cum in with your throat slime and tears.

"Gonna take a shower. Give Jack a turn" Jim left the room, sidling past his brother as he kept sliding his fingers in you

"You'd like that, huh? Have all three?" He snarled at you, thumb brushing against your clit

"Please?" You're still drunk, you just wanted to cum all over this beast behind you

"All right then" he snatched his hand away from your cunt, wrapping it around your torso and listed you so you faced him. Your tits pressed on his front as you held on. His cock was at your open cunt. You tried to push it in, but he held it just at the entrance. You rubbed against the tip as he walked to the end of the hall

"Jack! Got a surprise!"

"Fuck off, John!"

John pushed the door open with his back. You saw the last minotaur on the bed. He saw you too

"So that fuckmeat came after all"

"You know this bitch?" John sounded amused, using one hand to slap your ass again as the other pinned you to him "I just thought Jim pulled somehow"

"Yeah, she's a wannabe cow" Jack grabbed a handful of your hair. You whined as he pulled it

"Fuck, if only there was more of her..." His cock was at your asshole now, next to his brother's still grazing the entrance of your cunt "real painslut, aren't you?"

You nodded

He pushed.

Your asshole clenched as the cock forced its way in. John pressed you down, his cock impaling your cunt as the other barged into your unprepared asshole.

The tip slipped in. John fucking you was spreading your juices onto his brother's cock. It wasn't enough to stop it hurting as he forced it up you, but it helped.

Both cocks rubbed against each other, you felt them inside you, driving up as you fell down. The men sandwiched you, keeping you upright, stretched out and stuck on them, legs dangling off the floor as they fucked themselves with you.

Your head spun. The cock in your ass didn't hurt any more, or it did, but it was getting you off so you didn't care. Your moans and whines filled your head, getting closer to the edge as they rutted into you.

"What? You wanna cum" John growled into your ear

"Yes" you whined

"Yes what?"

"Yes, sir"

"You gonna be our cumrag?"

"Yes sir"

"Ok then, you can cum"

John grabbed one of your arms, pushing your hand between you and him. Your fingers rubbed your clit. Your eyes streamed as you wailed into his shoulder, cunt squirting onto the floor.

Both of your abused holes clenched and pulsed, the force of your finish milking the beasts as they railed you.

John came first, his cock hardening even more in you as he buried it, hot cum streaming out into your womb as you held each others bodies. You felt Jack slam his hips into your asscheeks, squeezing your hips as his flare expanded in you, seed pumping into your rear.

Both men held you there, enjoying the three-way embrace as they softened in you.

The shower came free, they let you go first on one condition:

You'd move in with them, to do this again and again

########################################

I just realised that if I catch up on Sunday, then that'll be early March... The question is, do I move to Volume 2 on Saturday with the calendar month, or at 60 episodes?

Doesn't make a difference to the day-to-day pornographing, only the contents pages, but it's a decision I wasn't anticipating...

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squidsquidsquidsquidsquidgame · 2 days ago

Text

Girlfriend before Bros

character: Nam-Gyu X Fem!reader

Summary: – His friends challenge him to a game night, but his girlfriend needs his help assembling furniture. He insists he'll be there soon… 🦑

Warnings: Damned ikea shelf.

Nam-Gyu held his phone between his shoulder and ear, nodding along as his friends hyped up game night. "Bro, you in or what?" Jihoon asked. "We've been planning this all week." "Yeah, yeah, of course!" Nam-Gyu said, tightening the screws on the wobbly shelf in front of him. "I just gotta finish something real quick, but I'll be there soon."

He hung up and turned to his girlfriend, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, holding up the instruction booklet like it was an ancient text written in a forgotten language. "Okay, but listen," she said, pointing at the diagram. "It says we need four of these screws, and we only have three. So either we got scammed, or—" "Or we don’t really need the fourth one," Nam-Gyu finished, waving off her concern.

"It's probably just… extra. Like a bonus screw." She gave him a look. "A bonus screw?" "You know, for safety reasons. In case we lose one." "Or, and hear me out, because we actually need it?" Nam-Gyu sighed and rubbed his face. "Alright, fine. Let's just finish the rest and see if it holds up."

That was an hour ago.

The shelf was still in pieces, screws and wooden planks scattered around them like they had lost a battle. Nam-Gyu’s phone buzzed again.

Jihoon (8:42 PM): Where are you.

Sangwoo (8:43 PM): Bro.

Jihoon (8:45 PM): Don’t tell me she’s got you building something again.

Nam-Gyu glanced at his girlfriend, who was now on a mission, rummaging through the packaging in case they had somehow overlooked the missing screw. "Just go," she said, not looking up. "You're gonna be late." Nam-Gyu hesitated. "But then you'll have to finish this alone." "I think I can handle it."

He checked the time. Game night was already in full swing, but… this shelf wasn't going to assemble itself. And honestly, he was starting to take this personally. His phone buzzed again.

Jihoon (9:01 PM): You’re still at her place, aren’t you.

Sangwoo (9:02 PM): He’s definitely still at her place.

Nam-Gyu sighed and typed back: "Yeah."

Jihoon sent a single thumbs-up emoji, immediately followed by: We knew it.

Shaking his head, Nam-Gyu tossed his phone aside and picked up the screwdriver. "Alright, let’s find this stupid screw." His girlfriend grinned, handing him the instructions again. "Admit it, you love this more than game night." Nam-Gyu scoffed. "Debatable." But as they sat there, heads bent together, determined to win against a flat-pack shelf, he had to admit… maybe she was right.

🦑🦑🦑

#namgyu x you #nam gyu #namgyu x reader #namgyu squid game #namgyu headcanons #namgyu headcanon #player 124 #squid game headcanons #squid games #squid game season 2 #squid game 2 #squid game netflix

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scarlet-bee · 3 days ago

Text

[Plain text:

[disappointed face emoji] [folded hands: light skin tone emoji] Please stop! Do not skip this. [disappointed face emoji] [folded hands: light skin tone emoji]

Emergency status!

4900$ from 20,000$ just since October 2024 ! [exploding head emoji] [face with head-bandage emoji]

[ID: A photo of four people, taken from inside of a building. They are standing together, where the destroyed wall used to be. The outside can be seen behind them. End ID.]

Our campaign is very stagnant and moves very slowly, the donations we receive very few. [pleading face emoji] [broken heart emoji]

▪︎Our campaign has been achieved since October 2024 only 4,900$ from $ 20,000$

▪︎We still have %75 to close our desired campaign

Ask for the humility of your contribution to fill this gap to get close to living a better life [2 pleading face emojis] broken heart emoji]

My family and I am frustrated, broken, unaware, and osteo, and we feel very disappointed.

We destroyed our house and we lost people close to our lives, and my father lost his work because of the war and we find it difficult to find the livelihood of our day and became coexisting with the lack of water, food and high prices very difficult.

We want to reform what the occupation destroyed and retrieve what we lost from our lives previously. Or finding a possible opportunity to leave the country and gold for a more stable and safe place

We can make all this possible with your help, standing beside, supporting and supporting our campaign, by donating us or spreading it widely to live my family a better life [folded hands: light skin tone emoji]

Together you can give us hope to get close to living a better life. [2 pleading face emojis] [heart symbol]

Vatted by: @90-ghost [magnifying glass tilted right emoji]

Donation link here:

End plain text.]

😞🙏🏻Please stop! Do not skip this.😞🙏🏻

Emergency status!

4900$ from 20,000$ just since October 2024 !🤯🤕

Our campaign is very stagnant and moves very slowly, the donations we receive very few. 🥺💔

▪︎Our campaign has been achieved since October 2024 only 4,900$ from $ 20,000$

▪︎We still have %75 to close our desired campaign

Ask for the humility of your contribution to fill this gap to get close to living a better life 🥺🥺💔

My family and I am frustrated, broken, unaware, and osteo, and we feel very disappointed.

We want to reform what the occupation destroyed and retrieve what we lost from our lives previously. Or finding a possible opportunity to leave the country and gold for a more stable and safe place

We can make all this possible with your help, standing beside, supporting and supporting our campaign, by donating us or spreading it widely to live my family a better life 🙏🏻

Together you can give us hope to get close to living a better life. 🥺🥺❤

Vatted by: @90-ghost 🔎

Donation link here:

#palestinian genocide #palestine #d #boost request #cw color text #color text

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 days ago

Text

Pent Up 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, virginity loss, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you seek validation through online correspondence with incarcerated men, only for one to lock you down in turn.

Characters: convict/excon!Thor (silverfox)

Note: It's an addiction now.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

'I never thought I'd be writing to someone like you, but you've shown me a different side of things. I hope that my emails give you comfort and can help you through. Even on the other side, they get me through my day. I'm always excited to read when there's a ding in my inbox.

I hope you also enjoy the little bit I could put in your commissary. If I lived closer, maybe I could bring you something homemade. At the moment, bus fare is a bit too much for my pockets.

Anyway, signing off.

Yours,

Diamond'

You add a whole line of heart emojis to the email then hit send. You giggle and click on the next. You don't have the heart to copy and paste so you add a bit of variety to the next.

This one is... Thor? That's his name. He's a funny one. Considering he's in the pen, you're surprised by that. The others are so dire; pushy too.

You hit reply on his last email. Something about a fight and apologising for not replying earlier. He says he was in solitary for a whole week. That sounds miserable. The thought is enough to scare you straight. It's why you've never done anything wrong in your whole life. Until now.

It's not really wrong. It's allowed. It's legal. You're just sending messages. If anything, it's a community service. These men don't have much more contact than each other and that's a recipe for chaos.

You won't admit that other reason aloud. That tickly feeling in your stomach. When they compliment you, when they say they missed you. You can't help but smile, even giggle sometimes. It's nice to be appreciated, even if it's all a fantasy.

You'll never meet these men. That's the fun part. You don't have to worry about any of this. Maybe that helps. Maybe you think too much when you're face-to-face. That explains why every cute guy you talk to sees past you.

'I forgive you, sweetie. It must have been so hard in there. The important thing is you replied. I got so worried! I hope that after all that, my email can bring a bit of comfort. I have to be honest, I never thought I'd be chatting with someone like you. That I could find this type of connection. Please, take care and email soon.'

Another parade of emojis follows and you send it off happily. Now you just have to wait and see who gets back to you first. If it's Ernie, you're not sure you'll respond. He's been fixated on his cell mate and his emails are getting a bit scary. That's the other great part. You can always just delete and block.

The response comes an hour later. You're sleepy and ready to pass out. You read it anyway.

'You are so kind, my queen.' You giggle. Yeah, he calls you that sometimes. If only he knew you were sitting in bed with an ice cream sandwich wrapper and your cell phone. Definitely not queenly behaviour. 'I got through it by thinking of you, of dreaming of the day when we can talk face-to-face. Wouldn't that be lovely? For all my mistakes, I think they will mean something if you and me can be together.'

You make a face. He's so cheesy. You can't help but laugh again. You're not trying to be cruel, you do empathise with his situation, you can't imagine being in prison, but like anyone else, he earned his time. There's one last light.

'If it isn't too much trouble, would you kindly send a picture so I have a face to admire in my lonelier moments? I've attached my own. Forgive me as it dates a few years back.'

You're not smiling anymore. You haven't sent any of the men pictures. They haven't offered theirs but you can look up their mug shots easily. You hate to ruin the fantasy but curiosity has you tapping the attachment.

Oh. You're surprised. He's older than you in this picture and by his own confession, is more so now. But he isn't repugnant. Anything but. Tall, blond, thick! You don't know if you've ever seen a man that size.

Even in a suit, it's obvious that his arms are bulging and his chest is ripe to burst out as the jacket button clings for dear life. The photo is cropped so that whoever he took it with is out of frame. His blue eyes sparkle above a defined smile. Has prison worn down all that?

You squirm. Guilt needles in your chest. You could close out and worry about it in the morning. You shouldn't be that sympathetic. He's still a criminal. You can say no. Easily. What's he going to do about it?

What could it hurt? If he saw your face. It's not like anyone would know. That anyone would recognise you or that he could find you anywhere else. You keep your social media anonymous. You aren't like the influencers who get attention just for being pretty.

It's that that gives you pause. You aren't anything but average. It's easier to pretend you're some pretty thing as you message these faceless men. Well, maybe that's a good thing. Maybe once he sees you, you won't have to worry about all that other stuff. He'll cut you off at the pass.

The thrill of it overwhelms your reluctance. It's like gambling, it could go either way.

You start a new message. More meaningly rewording of previous sentiments. Nothing new. Then you scroll through your photo roll. You take a breath and press down on a photo you think isn't half bad. It's from market day you went to with your aunt. Not exactly cutting edge but fun. She snuck in the shot as you smiled down at your gooey cinnamon roll. The impromptu snap is better than most of your posed ones.

You send and quickly lock the phone. You shove it under your pillow and swipe up the wrapper beside you. You leave it on your night stand and sink down, your insides swimming with anxiety. You're going to regret this in the morning.

🎀

'Will you call me?'

The question makes you sweat. You don't know why you feel bad. You've said no before. To him. To all of them. You draw a thick line between your secret little hobby and your real life. You shouldn't have ever sent that photo.

Despite your regret, you smile. His response was more than you could expect. The praise! You don't know that anyone ever even called you cute but he as good as wrote you a poem about your beauty. You have to remind yourself, given his circumstance, he's starved. He'd probably think your nan is sexy.

Still, you're having a hard time typing those two letter; N-O. Thor is so nice. And he asked so sweetly. But you can't do that. What if someone found out?

This whole thing is starting to feel like a big mistake, but it's so much fun. When in your life will men ever be this into you? When have they ever?

'I could call' you type without thinking. What are you doing? 'Let me know how to do that and we can set a time maybe.'

Don't hit send. Don't hit send.

Email sent.

Shit. Oh gosh. Why did you do that?

You close your laptop and leave it on your desk. You need to get ready for work. You can't be worrying about a man you'll never meet. It's all virtual, it's not real. You'll be okay.

You get yourself together and brace yourself for work. You don't really like your job. You work the counter at a tech repair shop. Independent so it's small and slow. Your boss is a bit strange too.

The only benefit is it's close and it pays a few bucks more than the alternative. You're even allowed to work on your online courses at the service desk. Really, it's perfect. You guess you're just not happy with things being boring.

You blow over the lid of your Sailor Moon travel mug and knock on the door. Jensen lets you in with a grin and stifles a yawn in his elbow. You step past him with a sheepish smile.

"If it isn't the champion of justice," he greets smugly and locks the door. You won't open for another half hour.

"Huh?" You go to the counter and slide your bag onto the shelf underneath.

"Your cup," he crosses the shop. “I am Sailor Moon, the champion of justice. In the name of the moon, I will right wrong and triumph over evil… and that means you!”

"Oh, right," you snort at his cheesiness. "You have espresso or something?"

"Red bull," he admits guiltily.

"This early?"

"Early? I never went to sleep," he comes around and goes back to typing on his glowing gaming computer. "Couldn't let my crew down."

You could roll your eyes. All he does is play Fortnite or Halo. He looks like he does too. Yet, he's in here moping after every rare stunner that walks through the door. That's why you'er there. He gets all tongue-tied with women. Well, all of them but you.

"You should join the party," he suggests.

"Well, I don't really play anymore," you shrug. "It was only for fun. My siblings... like it."

"Oh yeah, how's the family?"

"Good, I guess. They don't really call."

Your mom's too busy rebuilding her life with your step-dad. Rather, building the perfect life she never had. You sigh and open up your laptop. You grab your coffee and sip. You're tired of being forgotten.

"Jake," you say, he winces at the use of his first name, "Jensen," you glance at him, "you're a dude."

"Yeah, I am" he answers uncertainly.

"Well, you might know more than I do. You know anyone in prison? Any guys?"

"What?" He exclaims. "Where did that come from?"

"Mm... I was watching a documentary last night," you lie. "About prison or whatever."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, and about you know," you sway and look at your laptop. You're terrible at lying. "The women who like write to them or whatever."

"Ew, like the Ted Bundy weirdos?" He scoffs.

"Not exactly. I mean, none of them were murderers. I think," you shrug. "But... like, if you were in prison, you'd need that, right? I mean, it's just to get you through."

"I don't know. It'd be lonely, yeah, but like... what about after?" He scratches his neck. "I got a buddy who was in for a while but he's a good dude. He was only selling... stuff."

"Really?" You perk up, "he went to prison?"

"Well, he doesn't like to talk about it," Jensen says. "Why are you talking about this?"

"Making conversation. I was just thinking about the show," you sign into your laptop. "Just thinking... I mean, how do you even end up there?"

"Bad things. I learned my lesson when I was sixteen. I broke into the high school on a dare and the cops put me in cuffs for two hours. They let me go once I cried... I mean, I was a kid so..."

You nod and try not to show any judgment. That sounds about right. A notification pops up in the corner as Jensen goes back to the fluttering over his keyboard. You click on the email.

'I've been granted call-time at noon. You can call the number below and request by my inmate number...'

You quickly minimize and hide behind your cup as you slurp. Shoot. You didn't think he'd be so fast. A call at noon? You can't say no. Not now that he got approved.

Well, this is the only time it's happening.

#thor #dark thor #dark!thor #thor x reader #series #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #marvel #mcu #avengers #pent up

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bwobgames · 2 days ago

Text

They see a slumped, defeated looking Owen and a pensive Simon on one of the tables.

“Now that’s not the mood for a fancy train ride. Cheer up, strange creatures!”

“No can do, for the future only brings ruin. Forked paths. Uncertain fate. Such an herculean feat of Atlas proportions”

“What”

“We’re thinking”

“Are you?”

“They’re bummed out because they have to choose a career for university”

“WHA- WHERE DID YOU COME FROM?”

“Around”

“Is that what’s worrying you? Career prospects?”

“It’s more than that! I took a year off to ~find myself~ but uh. I mostly played videogames and got a cool haircut”

“And now I have to actually do the damn thing, and I still haven’t found out what I want to do!”

“It’s alright Owen, the university life is not for everyone.”

“No no, I know that! But I need to know what is it that I want to do for the rest of my life!”

“That does sound like a Herculean feat of Atlas proportions”

“Well, what is it that you like to do?”

“Uh. Listen to Medieval versions of popular music?”

“…As like. A hobbie”

“Don’t worry, a lot of people don’t end up working as the thing they studied. I was a security guard for a good while!”

“Security! That’s it!”

“A security expert? That’s a noble job”

“I’LL BECOME THE NEXT DOMINION!”

“The guy is nowhere to be found, and people found he sold all the stuff he stole so he must be loaded, right?”

“And! I get to have a cool costume!”

“You think it’s cool…?”

("He thinks it's cool?!")

“Owen that’s how you get in jail. And at least a few broken bones. A person needs to be borderline crazy to believe they can pull off the stuff Dominion did”

“Because he was like no other, truly. Amazing, mysterious, charming…”

“A complete lunatic”

“less than three”

“wh- Did you say the heart emoji out loud?”

“Well, if I can’t be Twominion then what do you think I should be, Mr. B- Oliver Beebo?”

Hmm… Something that Owen would enjoy…

“I think you’d do it well”

“Well, that does sound fun, but uh, isn’t that a bit… low on employment?”

“That is true, but. Does it really matter for your type?”

“My type?”

“Rich people."

"You have connections. Your parents have connections. No matter how low-end a career path might be, you’ll get to do anything because of your family’s name”

“Ollie, you’re not wrong but I don’t think that’s what the kid wants to hear right now…”

“Why not? It means he’s free to do whatever he wants. Look at Nadia”

“Oliver…”

“She’s studying film. In a country with barely any movie productions. Less so known ones aside from some closed circles. On a private University.”

“Yet she’ll be able to do all the movies she wants and be successful because the Margulis name is strong”

“…Excuse you. Are you implying I’m not able to be successful on my own?”

“Ah, you certainly have talent Nadia, I wouldn’t say anything against that”

“But that talent can be found in millions of people. People who might be even more talented. But we’ll never know because they won’t be able to reach the place it has been given to you on talent alone”

“You will. Because you have money. Because you were born with money.”

“…You-“

“SIMON! HAHA WHAT ABOUT YOU SIMON? HUH? WHAT DO YOU WANT TO STUDY HAHA”

“C’mon Beeb, only I’m allowed to fight the child”

(“Fight?")

Simon thinks for a second

“…Marine Biology”

“Although mom always gets weird when I say it. I think she might hate fishes”

“Bu- But you are good at cooking yeah? Didn’t you love cooking?”

“I am good at it but… The cooking scene isn’t very nice…”

“And I refuse to cook Lobster! It’s terrible and cruel!”

“Well, what if you become a vet! And specialize in fish! Or become the owner of an aquarium!”

“That just seems like a roundabout way to get to marine biology”

“You could have your own restaurant! Fish free!”

“I think it’s fine."

"If you like it and you think you can make it, then go ahead. Biology is hard though, think about that”

“I’m pretty good at it”

He seems relieved.

While he can’t speak for the others, his blonde roots and white shirt made his eyes look… almost green.

Eugene never got to study what he loved. He’ll make sure Simon does.

<-PREV START NEXT->

#children time #i wanted one of the options to be 'french' but i resisted the urge #detective beebo overnight train

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tarotbyjam24 · 2 days ago

Text

Describing you through poems

Likes , reblogs and feedbacks are very much appreciated 💗

Disclaimer: this is general reading . It may or may not resonate . If reading doesn't resonate let it fly and choose another pile or simply there were no messages for you through this reading 😊 Take the reading lightly as nothing's set in stone until you believe so 🕊️

Thankyou for stopping by let's dive in ☄️ Choose the pile you feel most drawn to 🧸

Masterlist \ pick a piles feedbacks piggy bank

If you like my work you can now tip me on kofi too ,leave 🖤 emoji while tipping me because @winisayswhat and I both share same accounts and it'll help us distinguish our tips and leave 💗 if you tip for @winisayswhat

I also offer paid readings you can book one as it'll help me a lot and don't forget to check the free readings offer ✨

I'd love to hear your thoughts on this reading <33

Pile 1 pile 2 pile 3

Pile 1

A WALK

A meadow smiling in the sun,

Cows knee cleep in the stream, An elm tree waving in the wind, A silvery birch's gleam, A long white road, a rustic bridge, A brooklet gliding through, And with the sunlight on Your hair, Coming toward me-You.

DEATH

By Clarence E. Flynn

WHY do you fear me? I am your friend.

I but guide trav'lers Rounding the bend-Lead them to freedom From time and age, Help them start writing On a new page....

Seek for me never, Keep your course true-When I am needed In come to you, Then I will show you Roads without end-Why do you fear me? I am your friend.

Pile 2

i write when

i write when my heart gets too heavy to hold i write about my scars new and old. i write when i have a lot to share, but to hear it out, no one has time to spare. i write when i feel as lonely as one could be, when not tears, but the well dressed smile is what one could see.

i write when thoughts in my

mind begin to sink.

i write to share whatever i think.

i write, not with thr desire of being known, but to know the voice within my soul.

~bhoomika

I Sit Beside The Fire and Think by JRR Tolkien

I sit beside the fire and think Of all that I have seen Of meadow flowers and butterflies In summers that have been

Of yellow leaves and gossamer In autumns that there were With morning mist and silver sun And wind upon my hair

I sit beside the fire and think Of how the world will be When winter comes without a spring That I shall ever see

For still there are so many things That I have never seen In every wood in every spring There is a different green

I sit beside the fire and think Of people long ago And people that will see a world That I shall never know

But all the while I sit and think Of times there were before I listen for returning feet And voices at the door

Pile 3

Beauty

I like simple pleasures, Like wet hair & Clean sheets.. Pomegranate sourness, & the sweetness of ripe peach..

I like contradictions, Like rainbows after rain.. The glittering eyes of happiness, after days of pain..

A cup of hot tea, during a storm.. Living wildly and out of the norm.. I like good hearts, good art, the warmth of the sun.. The days you gave your self power, When you had none..

I like solitude, serenity, The thoughts in my mind.. And how in every tragic thing, Beauty I can find..

-Alethea Spark

Each of us are given a white canvas Some may be smaller than others. But the fact remains that it is pure, With not a single drop of colour.

As the days go by, the amount of strokes grow, With different colours and shapes. Some may be sharp and jagged And others smooth and clean.

You cant erase it or start over, But you can always cover it with a better strokes. You may even give up and want to stop at times, But you keep trying so desperately

And in the end, you can step back and look at what you have created And see that it was beautiful all along.

A masterpiece painted by you.

- C.

I hope you liked the reading . Thank you so much for letting me read for you . Wishing you best ahead . 🎀Bless you and have a nice day🌸🐰

Loads of love , jam\gem ✨

Exchanges : open , collabs for paps : open

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scarlet-bee · 3 days ago

Text

[Plain text:

(User c-u-c-koo-4-40k):

Snap your fingers, you are now proficient in one of these skills (Like the years practicing happen all in one moment.) Which do you choose?

- Drawing/Visual Art in General

- Writing

- Sewing/Clothes Making

- Martial Arts

- Animal Husbandry

- Plant Husbandry/Horticulture

- Cooking

(If you voted please also Share.)

This is @nadee2011 , their campaign has been shared by two Palestinian bloggers (90-ghost and Bilal-salah0) Who are known for trying to find and support legitimate campaigns.

If you've got sympathy for those in Gaza please consider doing the following!

1. Donate if you can afford to. Chuffed allows for very low donation amounts. If you can only spare/only feel comfortable giving a dollar you can do so. All amounts can help!

2. Share - Always share, because each share means the campaign has a chance to be seen by more donors.

It can make a difference to those in need.

735 / 50,000 USD

Tag List 1 - DM for removal

(User nadee2011):

"Please donate as soon as possible – your contribution can make a huge difference."

We are now waiting for donations that will save our lives from death.

Tagging some people to help by donating and/or sharing: [3 folded hands emojis]

End plain text.]

Vetting sources: 90-ghost + bilal-salah0

(If you voted please also Share.)

This is @nadee2011 , their campaign has been shared by two Palestinian bloggers (90-ghost and Bilal-salah0) Who are known for trying to find and support legitimate campaigns.

If you've got sympathy for those in Gaza please consider doing the following!

1. Donate if you can afford to. Chuffed allows for very low donation amounts. If you can only spare/only feel comfortable giving a dollar you can do so. All amounts can help!

2. Share - Always share, because each share means the campaign has a chance to be seen by more donors.

It can make a difference to those in need.

735 / 50,000 USD

Tag List 1 - DM for removal

@a-shade-of-blue @sunnylittledragon

@selflovejolteon @virovac @frustrated-froglet @qattdraws @heydreamchild

@amvs @boosting-donations @sweet-honey-bunnies @dyspunktional-leviathan @nobelgasxenon @zone0neko @comrademango @genderdog @deansmultitudes @geekydragon @myceliacrochet

@acehimbo @fancy-strawberry-beard @turtletoria @thatsonehellofabird @buttercuparry

@leechloach @verdiesque @metamorphesque @eremes @waterloggedsoliloquy @fascinationstreetmp3 @queerpyracy @mlm-blues @lakesbian @u3pxx @crtvirus @tiercel @borrelia @nvtxl @nonbinary-watanuki @dykentery @ossifer @crusty @libelelle @coastalhorrors

#palestinian genocide #palestine #d #boost request #cw color text #color text

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retquits · 2 days ago

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How are you feeling these days? How is your health? 👹🌻

this is such a funny emoji combo 😭 still, thank you for asking!

i've been better. i'm in and out of the doctor's office every other week, and a new medication i'm taking has me permanently tired/sleepy -so it's been difficult to find energy for anything other than work.

but we persist

#answers #anon #cw health #sprouts log #imm sooooo sleepyyyyyy #and the Big Scary appointment is later in april #the good news is that the doctors i'm currently seeing are awesome!! extremely kind and patient and thorough #which has been amazing because the number one rule of my body is that something must be wrong all of the time #anyway thank you again for asking <3

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aonogifreactions · 3 days ago

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Rin relationship headcanons bc i had a brainrot <3

A/N: i mighve mentioned some of the hc in the past but that just means im still as delulu as i was back then. pensive emoji

Warnings: none; established relationship, gender neutral reader. i mightve forgotten some stuff, so forgive me if its not as canon-compliant as id like it to be (but i tried) ;w;

Word count: 1,7k.

Rin:

At first, Rin's a bit shy of initiating physical contact; sure, he does hold your hand and hug you, but feels a teeny tiny nervous about kissing you. Reassuring him that it's perfectly fine and you don't mind it at all (or admit you don't have much experience either) gives him some hope for the future.

If you're the one to feel insecure about your (in)experience, Rin's here to embrace it and give you the same reassurance back. He reminds you that there's no need to rush and do everything with your own pace. But hey, if you wanna practice kissing, he's all ready. A bit too much ready...

While Rin may not realize it, he's ABSOLUTELY starved for your attention and physical contact, which actually is his love language. He likes to be all over you, but not in a overbearing way; he still wants to give you the space you need, but if you let him, even the lightest touch makes him happy! Even if it's barely a kiss on the cheek when both of you pass by on the True Cross hallway, a high five (seriously he doesn't gaf), or a quick hug, he'll be satisfied.

In private though, he's absolutely glued to you, as long as you let him. Rin grew to like giving you back hugs especially; while having no clear preference himself, he just really wants you to return the hug. His tail often finds itself tangling around your limbs, depending on your current activity, rarely around your waist - not often though, as it often ends up in him falling over because you're getting up from your seat and both of you forget it's there 😭

He's so, SOOOO desperate for physical contact, again, but also so cute while doing so; while hugging you from behind, he often nuzzles his face into your neck, leaving tiny butterfly kisses, and tiny kisses here and there. He closes his eyes and lets himself enjoy the moment, the fact that you're here, that you're his, and that both of you managed to live through the hell that Satan brought.

Rin's sense of smell is definitely more sensitive and stronger than any ordinary human - perfumes more often than not irritate his poor nose, so he actually prefers your natural smell (and so does Demon!Rin - but we'll get to that...). Not only having you close makes him safer, but once his body starts remembering your smell, he's able to somewhat locate you or at least, know that you're somewhere in the area, even if he can't see you.

Rin's very supportive when it comes to your hobbies and takes them very seriously! He doesn't care if they're cringe, he'll save money for months to make sure he gets you something you like! Especially plushies or small trinkets, he notices them the most. No matter how much you worry about him potentially laughing at them, more often than not you find him snuggling with them in his bed. Rin also gives them their own space, so you can find them quickly if you want to take them home.

*imagining Rin hugging a huge cinnamoroll plushie. We'll be back shortly*

Much to Rin's surprise, Yukio finds himself starting to like some characters himself, giving you the perfect opportunity to have a bestie to talk with. (You can't convince me Yukio's favorite sanrio character isn't Keroppi. PS: Rin's favorite is Little Twin Stars, because they remind him of himself and Yukio.)

While Rin does enjoy going out for dates, he also doesn't mind staying home and doing.. well, nothing. He's content just laying on top of you and having you play with his hair - he lets out soft whimpers once in a while to let you know he isn't sleeping (yet). Usually, he also has your hands intertwined and rubs his thumb up and down soothingly on your skin.

If you want to learn how to cook, he's so, so understanding about it. He doesn't care if you burn meat to the ground 17 times, he'll explain it to you again. I mean, Mephisto's paying, so.. either way, he'll always be supportive of that part of you and willing to be the taste tester! Sometimes he writes down your favorite recipes, so when he's away, you're able to make your meals by yourself!

His notes always have some sort of kissing emojis (Meph cannot deny the influence anymore):

"good luck cooking, babe! (⁠っ⁠˘⁠з⁠(⁠˘⁠⌣⁠˘⁠ ⁠)"

"make sure to leave some for me (⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥",

"don't add too much salt, it's not healthy!! (⁠´⁠ε⁠｀⁠ ⁠)"

If you wanna try skincare on him, he's all in! In fact, Rin has no clue about any of it, he's probably washing his face with just water - but good God, when you start washing his face with that fluffy brush, putting some masks on and massaging his face (or at least trying, he'll appreciate it too), while he has his head on your lap - he starts to drift off to heaven, probably.

Rin looks like young God next morning, sparkles around his face and all - Renzou teases him about it, until he pokes his cheek - and then immediately pestering Izumo to do the same for him (she almost slaps him with a book) 😭

Oh, he's ONE MILLION PERCENT catching feelings for you if you're his childhood friend. Especially if you weren't afraid of him in the past, that's a given. You're Rin's first ever crush, then some time passes.. and he becomes unsure of his feelings, thinking you'd be happier with Yukio anyway, I mean, he's smarter anyways, right? That's what causes him drift away from you and yes, he becomes infatuated with Shiemi, and then you come back at his ass again, and he realizes his heart never moved on from you. He does feel guilty confusing both Shiemi and you, but he just knows. Rin knows it's you. Once he feels you in his embrace after a particularly tough battle, he knows he has his whole world in his arms and confesses to you shortly after. (why do i wanna write a longer piece about this.,,,)

Rin loves, loooves when you cradle his face. He nuzzles into your arms and places his own hand against yours, but his eyes get that soft look that has you almost tearing up because of how genuine his happiness is.

He tends to forget about his tiny horns, so beware. He'll be fine with teasing, but only asks you to not put clothes hangers if they ever grow.

If Rin ever overhears you praising him or just talking about him in a good light to your friends, he's about to start crying - poor baby, his heart almost bursts. He's painfully aware most people are wary of him because of who he is or in fear of getting hurt, but hearing you defending him or gushing about him to others is possibly the most heartwrenching thing that day. This is probably one of the memories he'll never forget.

His body is so warm, even without the flames. Rin's down for cuddling anytime, but during winter, you don't even need any other kind of heating besides Rin. He pushes you against his chest when you sit in between his legs, takes your hands in his and either has his head on your shoulder while you watch a movie, or pepper your cheeks or temples in kisses.

Run away from him when it's summer tho 😭

Encouraging Rin to let Demon!Rin out once in a while leaves Rin a bit confused. At first, yeah, maybe, MAYBE if the demon part of him behaves well, he might, but what if he causes rampage? By the end of the day Rin agrees, but at first - just around you. Demon!Rin on the other hand, is a delightful nuisance - he does recognize you, but since he hasn't claimed you as his mate yet, he appears to be slightly more distant.

Actually, you have to teach him basic human behaviors - no, Rin, you can't throw a table at someone who "looked in a bad way" at you. No, Rin, you can't jump through the alleys in stores instead of walking. Some of those are so basic it's funny, but it's better than convincing him to not kill the cashier, because they had no change 😭

As you can expect, Demon!Rin is extremely possessive of you. He doesn't like anybody near you, especially at the beginning, when he's figuring out who's acceptable for him. Has probably bit Shima's head at least once. Attempted to do the same for Bon, but he slapped him with a verse. The worst out of all is Amaimon, whose new fun is riling Rin up by pretending to flirt with you, only to cause a fight between them and get almost burned to a crisp 😭 Mephisto's intervened once, only to learn Amaimon's asking for it every time, so now he cheers for Rin instead. That doesn't help, but you have free popcorn every time... I guess.

Demon!Rin appears to enjoy slightly different traits in his significant other, than the human one. He's fond of sarcasm (human!Rin doesn't mind, but he just doesn't say it back lol), he likes when you challenge him and stand your ground. Likewise, he also provokes you too, trying to find your limit - it's harmless though, he literally just wants to get on your nerves for no reason, lol.

His behavior as time goes on does get better and he's able to somewhat exists with human!Rin in peace. Usually, the demonic side lets him do most of the work and comes out when he's bored or misses his mate.

Speaking of mating, demon!Rin is definitely marking you. The bite is somewhere between your shoulder and neck, it's.. almost like a permanent bruise, because well, it's his first time. Mephisto eyes it in curiously, commenting how messy it is and then giving him subtle tips on how to do it properly. Rin just leaves the room 🚪🚶‍♀️

Poor human!Rin freaks the f out when he sees the bruise for the first time, cuz like WHAT IS THIS and WHERE DID IT COME FROM 😭 you have 30 seconds to reason with him before he tames the demonic part of himself probably until forever 😭

If you ever admit you have a thing for his teeth, he'll probably freeze, laugh and pass out. In reality he's fine with it, more than fine - Rin's flattered that you like his demonic features, and since your confession, he makes sure to take care of his teeth even more. Moreover, with your consent of course, he's willing to gently mark you if an opportunity comes. Ekhem. (Demon!Rin: I used to pray for times like this)

#ao no exorcist #blue exorcist #blue exorcist imagines #ao no exorcist imagine #rin okumura #rin okumura x reader #Headcanon #pure

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sometimesanalice · 2 days ago

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Morgannn!! 💖 oh I’m so, so happy you liked this! Fluffy, fun, and flirty vibes for days!

I’m so happy that it was something that made you smile! 🥰🥰

More for you!!

Oh, this was absolutely delightful and fun and exactly what I needed after this week! I broke into giggles and a smile more times than I could count! I love everything you write, but sometimes you pop off with the best little details and phrasings and it's such a joy to read your writing!—🥹🥹🥹

And while the sure to be terrible, no good, horribly bad idea hadn’t been yours, you weren’t entirely sure what you were thinking when you’d even agreed to it in the first place.

Quite literally the vibe for modern dating, and especially with how many men always forget Feb 14th is a holiday!!!!!— I just imagined her being like “are you sure??” like five times and this guy being like “it’s a Wednesday like yeah”. But truly, the amount of me not utilizing the notifications on their built in calendar is a CRIME. But especially on international hearts day!

And well, if your date didn’t appreciate it, then that was a him problem.

Men don't appreciate good fashion. That's why we dress for the group chat and ourselves!— the girlies(gn) just want to look and feel cute! But also, you know that group chat was popping off with the🔥 emoji, lol

But chances are if your date is here then he has already seen you. A bright beacon of pink amongst varying shades of brown and woodgrain.

This visual this gave me! A beacon of pink! Get her a drink!— goodness knows miss ma’am needs one! She was just trying to go with the flow and have fun! But I loved trying to find ways to highlight just how out of place she was there, not only like with how she felt but also the setting!

“You look like you’re in need of a date,” a warm, raspy voice offers.

STOP, THIS GOT ME!— I MEAN CAN YOU IMAGINEEEEE

An amused laugh escapes you. “Are we ranking mustaches now? Because if that’s the case, I’m sorry to say that I’d have to give it to Selleck.”

Snaps for Selleck mention.— the OG mustache man!

Oh.

AN ITALICIZED OH, SO YOU KNOW IT'S GOOD!!!— ITALICIZED OH SUPREMACY!! (Also I’m so endlessly tickled by the amount of support the italicized oh has gotten 😂 I know I posted about it specifically, but I love how much love we all have for those two little letters!)

You watch stunned as he saunters away, admiring the way the light wash jeans he’s wearing form to his long legs, before taking a moment to send a string of words punctuated with more than a few exclamation points to the group chat.

This was entirely too relatable. Those jeans are too slutty and the group chat must know! (nothing wrong with taking a lil pic either 🤫) — I was so obsessed with the idea of her being like “you guys won’t believe what happened” and her phone just blowing up the other night of her best babes wanting allll the tea! You know the brunch talk is going to be popping! (But the slutty beans and that cock walks are a lethal combo!!)

The two are pretty well matched in skill, you observe with keen eyes, as the balls skate across the Top Gun insignia, against the rails, and into pockets.

This whole pool scene was so fun! You captured Jake and Bradley's game with so much descriptive detail, it made me want to watch the movie again! Jake would absolutely get hustled, that man has too much ego to not get played.— ahhhh!! This is the best thing you could have said because Morgan I know nothing about pool lmaooooo 😂 I was reading as much as I could and snooping on r/billiards to figure out what was going on hahaha! All the while cursing myself for deciding her ace needed to be her sneaky pool shark skills. He would SO get played, he wouldn’t be able to help himself!

In that moment you are Midas touched, the blood thrumming through your veins feels like liquid gold.

This is quite literally one of my favourite ways a kiss has been described. So visual, yet you can feel it. It's going to be rolling through my brain for a bit, I love it!— stopppp!!!!!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰 there’s always so much pressure to try and get a first kiss right, so that makes me so happy that it landed well with you!! 🫶🏻

For the Plot

Summary: Things aren't looking too good for you, sitting alone at the Hard Deck waiting for a man who might not show. Until Bradley Bradshaw sits down across from you and turns your entire night upside down.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Reader

Length: 7.7k

Warnings: fluff, so much flirting, and an italicized oh

Going on a first date on Valentine’s Day is unarguably the worst possible idea that anyone has ever had.And while the sure to be terrible, no good, horribly bad idea hadn’t been yours, you weren’t entirely sure what you were thinking when you’d even agreed to it in the first place.

The guy you were planning to meet tonight was cute enough, even if you were still undecided about the mustache. And while the chats between the two of you had been pretty good as far as it goes getting to know a literal stranger, you were hopeful that it could be even better in person. The fact he was in the Navy was still a bit of a consideration for you, but not a deal breaker.

In retrospect, the name of the bar should have been your first clue and the location paired with the causal beachy exterior covered in planes should have been the second.

You had been expecting to see more than one girl all done up in pinks and reds tonight, but you couldn’t have been more wrong. And you swear to god, somewhere you hear a record scratch as you step into the Hard Deck, because you are surrounded by nothing but a sea of olive green and khaki and denim.

And you have never been so clearly out of place in your entire life.

There was nothing about your ensemble that was even remotely fitting for the literal Navy bar you’d found yourself in.

The ice pink mini slip dress you’d dug out of your closet was admittedly a little much for a first date, but since it was Valentine’s Day you figured why not lean into it a bit. And well, if your date didn’t appreciate it, then that was a him problem.

Or so you’d thought at the time, because now it was a decidedly you problem.

The silhouette was simple enough, with the gentle drape of the cowl neck and the barely-there spaghetti straps, but the shiny sheen of the fabric made a statement of its own. It wasn’t something you got to wear very often for as much as you loved it.

But then you’d gone ahead and paired it with the tallest, most ostentation heels you had. The effort had been worth it though because the pearl encrusted block heels made your legs look like they went on for days. Even if it had been a feat trying to get the dainty buckle done with the way you’d been rushing out of the house with your beaded bag in tow.

The whole look was something you’d sure would come with Cher Horowitz’s seal of approval. However, the patrons of the Hard Deck you were less sure about. And even though there were civilians- like yourself- scattered about the bar, none were anywhere near as dressed up as you.

There are more than a few pairs of eyes on you as you stand there with your feet glued to the uneven wooden floors, as the door with its porthole-shaped window slowly closes behind you with a squeaky creak. The twinkle lights above your head felt more like a spotlight, illuminating how out of place you are in this moment.

Your hand is still clutched on the handle unsure whether you’re going to make a run for it or not. You are more than a little tempted to hightail it back to the parking lot and text your date to claim a bout of food poisoning from the safety of the driver’s seat in your car.

But chances are if your date is here then he has already seen you. A bright beacon of pink amongst varying shades of brown and woodgrain.

“Oh my god,” you mutter under your breath, trying not to panic. Officially a victim of your own bad decision making.

You take a quick scan of the room, trying to decide what your next move should be. There’s a woman behind the bar with kind but clearly inquisitive eyes. A blonde with a wolfish smile eyes you from where he stands next to a man with broad shoulders bent over what must be the pool table, hidden behind the paneled half wall. By a dart board, there are a couple men with their heads turned towards you, the game seemingly forgotten as they discuss the spectacle that is you.

There are hundreds of planes dangling over the bar, patches and plaques littering the walls and rafters, rounders suspended from the ceiling laden with too many ceramic mugs to count. It was all done with a heavy-handed, maximalistic approach that you’d take a moment to appreciate under any other given circumstances.

When you spot an open table tucked away in the corner of the room it feels like life raft to the iceberg of a situation you’ve put yourself in. Mindful of the scuffed, uneven floors- because the last thing you need is to eat shit or twist an ankle in front of room full of curious onlookers- you hustle over to the spot in hopes of having a moment to regroup.

Once you’re situated- shrugging off the ivory cardigan you’d topped your outfit, trying to keep the nervous sweat that wanted to break out over your body at bay- you pull out your phone and check the time only to realize you’re devastatingly on time. Five minutes early, to be specific.

So you wait.

And check your phone again and the notifications in the dating app, just in case you missed something.

And wait.

You try to play it cool, skimming posts on Instagram and replying to some overdue texts. Finding anything you can to keep yourself occupied to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach the longer you sit there. Alone.

Now you’re not just simply embarrassed, you’re mortified.

You can still feel the eyes, the energy steadily shifting from curiosity to sympathy over the last thirty minutes you’ve been waiting all alone in the corner of a Navy bar you had no business being in for a man who clearly wasn’t going to show.

So much for doing it for the plot, you think to yourself with a shake of your head.

Another minute ticks by with no message and you decide you’re more than ready to hightail it out of there. Fully aware that you’re about to become a topic of conversation that won’t have to be restricted to only covert glances and muffled whispers. But hopefully, they’ll at least wait until the door closes behind you before the chatter starts up for real.

With a sigh, you reach for your beaded bag, just as a large body slips into the chair across from you, with an ease that is in contrast to the bulk of muscles you catch in your peripheral vision.

“You look like you’re in need of a date,” a warm, raspy voice offers.

It’s the smile that you catch first. Not quite a grin, but something familiar and friendly and charming in the way it crookedly pulled to the left. Followed closely by the rich chocolate brown eyes that were squarely trained on you with a look that was just as earnest as it was playful. But what surprised you the most was the way he was sitting in the stool across from you just as comfortably as if he was supposed to be there all along.

There was no way you could have prepared yourself for the sheer level of attractiveness of this man.

He was in a league of his own with those curls and wide shoulders. The white and olive green stripped crochet shirt he was wearing didn’t hurt either, especially the way the top buttons were undone giving you glimpse of a chain around his neck and the chest underneath it. He didn’t need to be in uniform- or even in a Navy bar- for you to tell he was a military man. Not with the confident way he held himself.

Even if the mustache he was sporting made it feel like the universe was playing tricks on you, but he more than wore it well.

You huff out a self-deprecating laugh. “What gave it away?” you ask. “The way I’ve been watching the door? Or just the general look of regret and embarrassment?”

“Embarrassed? What do you have to be embarrassed about?” His eyebrows pull together, perplexed. He shakes his head like he disagrees with even the suggestion of it. “I think the only person who should be embarrassed is the guy who is missing out on sitting across from you right now.”

You give him a soft smile of your own in return for the cinnamon sweet words. There’s a genuineness in his tone that makes some of the tightness that had settled in your shoulders from the moment you’d walked in release.

“That’s kind of you, but I think I’m going to head out,” you say, nodding to the door you never should have stepped through in the first place.

He gives you a teasing tsk. “And let a dress like that go to waste? Now that would be a shame.”

The appreciative look in his gaze that sets off a swarm of butterflies in your stomach. And then his eyebrow ticks up, just a little. Part invitation, part dare. And you can’t say you’re not intrigued.

There’s a decision to make.

You could leave now and cut your losses. There was a reason you had a back-up pizza in the fridge and had left you well-loved copy of You’ve Got Mail sitting out on your coffee table.

Or you could stick around and see what happens next.

You tilt your head at him, just as teasing. “Would it now?”

“It would,” he states, sincerely.

Before you can reply, your phone lights up with a new notification, pulling you out of the whisky haze you’d found yourself in.

His eyes dip down to your illuminated screen. “Is that him?”

“It is,” you confirm, almost regretfully. You open the app and skim the message. And then read it again.

There’s no sorry, no apology for cancelling a half an hour after the time for the date that had been his idea in the first place. And then he’d even had the audacity to tack on a cavalier maybe another time at the end.

Unbelievable.

He lets out a low whistle. “That bad, huh?”

“Apparently, I should have been the one to remind him that the fourteenth of February is a calendar holiday and a fan favorite day of the greeting card companies.” It’s so ridiculous you’d laugh if you weren’t so annoyed by the lack of consideration and the not-so-subtle blame he’d tried to shift on you. “Even though I did double check if he was sure about meeting up today, I guess I didn’t realize I actually needed to spell out ‘Valentine’s Day’ for him.”

The man across from you doesn’t bother holding back the less than impressed look on his face. And you decide you like that about him, that he wears his thoughts so openly. It’s refreshing.

“Do you mind if I take a look at his profile?”

You shrug and pass your phone over. You were planning on blocking West the second you had a moment anyways. You see him roll his eyes and guess it has something to do with the amount of shirtless gym selfies.

He snorts as he scrolls, “Please, his mustache has nothing on mine.”

An amused laugh escapes you. “Are we ranking mustaches now? Because if that’s the case, I’m sorry to say that I’d have to give it to Selleck.”

“Fair enough,” he concedes good-naturedly, as he hands you back your phone. “But am I at least a close second?” There’s no mistaking the flirtatious tone in his voice.

You hum and take full advantage of the opportunity to look at him unabashedly, mapping the contours of his face because you can.

To simply call him handsome would be an understatement.

The way the golden light of the sunset is hitting him you catch some sunkissed strands in those soft looking waves of his hair. There’s the beginning of some crinkles around the edges of his eyes. You notice the scars on his face, some that look long healed and others that are still a light pink- like the one on the side of his neck and beneath is ear. And that mustache on him worked for you, one hundred percent.

There’s a playful glint in his eyes as he lets you assess him that leaves no question as to whether or not he’s been flirting with you. You like the way he’s looking at you and the way he’s easily made you forget about being overdressed and how uncomfortable you were even just five minutes ago. You’re having fun. And while you still haven’t answered his question from earlier, you have no doubt that he’d show you a good time if you let him.

“Maybe not a close second, but yours is certainly up there,” you tease.

He grins. “I can work with that.” There’s something about the way he adds on for now that has a spark dancing up along your spine. And then he sticks out his hand, “I’m Bradley.”

It’s a good name. It suits him. It’s one you think you’ll enjoy the way your tongue will curl around the letters of it in your mouth.

When you give him yours in return, he sits up straighter in his seat, like he’s won a small victory.

You don’t doubt that he’s the chivalrous type, the fact that he’s gone out of his way to come over to try and turn this evening around for you says more about him than any dating profile with nonsense questions and overthought answers ever could. But with a man like him, one who’d swoop in to save the night of a stranger because she looks like a damsel in distress, there’s an answer to a question you need to hear first.

“Bradley, this isn’t a pity thing, is it?” You were right, you like the way saying his name feels. You drop your hands into your lap, as you search his eyes. “Because if it is, that’ll make me feel worse than being stood up did.”

The way the words were sitting out and open on the table between the two of you made you feel vulnerable in a way you didn’t like. But you’d rather know now before anything goes further. Doing it for the plot or not, your ego could only take so much bruising in one evening.

He pins you with a look so serious that you feel it down to your toes. “Trust me, this is furthest thing from a ‘pity thing’, as you put it,” Bradley says, his tone slipping down a few gravelly notes. “Because if I’m being honest, if that asshole had actually shown up, I don’t know if I would have played fair.”

Oh.

A thrilling rush of warmth courses through you as your cheeks heat up.

You nod, trying to not look as affected as you feel. “Ok, I believe you.”

“Good,” he smirks, his gaze dropping down and lingering on your lips. You didn’t realize you’d trapped your lower lip between your teeth, you release it immediately. “Because you should know, I would have come over sooner- the second I saw you, actually- if I’d known. That’s some dress, sweetheart,” Bradley continues, “Plus, you’d be doing me a favor.”

You couldn’t help but be curious, so you lean in closer. “Oh, how so?”

Bradley mirrors you, crossing his thick forearms over each other and leans in that much closer. “I haven’t had a Valentine in years,” he says it like he’s letting you in on a secret.

For the first time all night, you don’t regret wearing the dress. You don’t regret the ostentatious shoes or the glimmering beaded bag. You don’t regret walking through that creaky door. You don’t regret showing up tonight.

How could you when you’ve just been served the best plot twist you’ve possibly ever experienced? A meetcute you never could have seen coming.

You realize just how close your faces have gotten and lean back in your seat, from fear of thinking you might do something stupid, like kiss him. “Will you stop with the big cow eyes, if I agree?”

Those crinkles around his eyes deepen, “Good to know they still work, I wasn’t sure if I still had it.”

You press your lips together trying to hide your smile, all too thoroughly charmed, but the corners of your mouth curl up all the same.

“Trust me, you have plenty.”

And Bradley’s own smile gets even wider.

Anyone in the bar can see how pleased with himself he is at your words. It rolls off of him in steady waves and swirls around your shins and ankles.

He makes a show of settling further into his seat, now that it is officially his seat. “What’re we thinking? One milkshake, two straws?”

You play along and pretend to ponder the offer for a moment. “That seems more like a second date type of activity, does it not?”

“You’re right, something to look forward to for next time,” he responds, not missing a beat. “So, can I buy you a drink?”

“I’ll allow it.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

There wasn’t a menu or anything on the table when you sat down, so you aren’t sure what all is offered here. You thought you might have caught a glimpse of a laminated stack near register when you’d first walked in, but you hadn’t wanted to draw any more attention to yourself at the time by getting up again and wandering around and reminding people just how out of place you’d been.

You look around and see a mix of ceramic steins, pint glasses, beer bottles, and a few stems of wine on tabletops and in the hands of the other patrons.

The noise of the bar had become a faint white noise in your ears as the two of you talked, but it comes back in full force now.

“If they have rosé, I’d take a glass of that.” It isn’t hard to miss the hesitation in your voice, feeling a little silly defaulting to your usual go-to. You don’t imagine they go through a ton of pink wine here. “But, uhm, anything on tap would be fine too, if they don’t.”

Bradley’s lips twitch up. Not in a smirk, but something caught between amused and something else you can’t quite describe.

You try not to fidget under his warm gaze, “What?”

He slides out of his stool and rounds the table, setting a big hand on the armrest near your elbow, “There’s something you should know about me, sweetheart.”

“And what’s that?” you ask, more than a little breathlessly. Feeling a little high off of the smell of his leather and vanilla cologne, and something underneath that that reminds you of kerosene in a way that makes you want to breathe him in even more.

Bradley dips down close, his lips just a whisper from your ear, and murmurs, “Pink is my favorite color.”

Your head tips back on its own as you laugh. Its unabashedly loud and bright and delighted thing that fills the nooks and crannies of the corner you’d tucked yourself away into. And if a few heads turn your way because of it, that’s alright with you.

You don’t believe him, not one little bit. But that’s part of the fun. The back and forth, the flirting, the banter, the teasing. He’s so quickly turned this night around for you, you already know your cheeks are going to hurt by the end of it.

The sound of Bradley’s own laughter chases after yours. It’s warm and raspy and boyish, and you like the sound of it. You like him.

“One rosé, coming up,” he says, giving your shoulder a light squeeze before he steps out of your space. “There’s nothing I like more than a girl who commits to a theme.”

You catch his wrist, his skin warm under your palm. “Wait, what’s it really?”

“Red,” Bradley says, then gives you a slow once over, making your pulse spark in your veins. “But you’ve got me second guessing myself now.” He gives you a wink and then heads towards the bar.

When he comes back, only a few minutes later, he has glass of familiar pink wine in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other. And oddly enough, a straw tucked into the pocket on his shirt.

“It’s almost a perfect match,” he notes, when he sets it in front of you.

“At least I won’t have to worry about staining if I end up spilling on myself.”

Bradley chuckles and moves his stool in closer to yours, sitting back down with more smooth grace than a man with his build has any right to move. He tips the neck of his beer towards you, and you lightly tap your wine glass against it.

You take a sweet sip. “So.”

“So,” he repeats, with a teasing lift of his eyebrow.

“What’s your move?” you ask, running a glossy tipped finger around the rim of your wineglass.

“My move?” And there’s that grin again, one he doesn’t try to hide as he takes a sip of his own. “‘m pretty sure I’ve been showing you my moves since I sat down. I’ve never been good at being subtle.”

Bradley pulls the straw from his pocket and taps it a few times against the shellacked woodgrain table top. He takes the flimsy wrapper carefully starts twisting it, a little furrow of concentration forms between his brows, spiraling it until it’s pulled taut against itself.

You set an elbow on the edge, resting your chin on your hand as you study him. “But what’s the big move? I know you have one,” you press further.

His hands are big, calloused and rough, but capable. You want to know the story behind the scar that’s near the base of his thumb. You note that he wears his watch on the right instead of the left, and you pocket that new discovery for yourself the way a kid enthusiastically collects rocks in a park.

Bradley takes that piece of paper and folds it in half before twisting it again.

You watch in fascination as that pleased grin transforms into a confident smirk, like he’s enjoying even just the thought of showing you his big move. He looks like good trouble.

Bradley’s eyes slowly lift to yours, his hands pausing whatever he’s doing with that wrapper. He shoots a thumb to the left towards the end of the oval shaped bar. “You see that piano over there?”

“Mhm.” It’s an almost purr.

“That’s my big move.”

You feel your eyebrows lift in surprise. Bradley gave off such hometown golden boy vibes, you’d never have expected that he’d be the musical type too. The idea of seeing those hands fly over a set of black and white piano keys made your stomach tighten deliciously in anticipation.

“Am I going to get to see it?”

His gaze is steady on you when he replies, “Yeah, sweetheart, I’ll show you my move.”

A grin stretches across your face and you feel downright giddy, as you wiggle your shoulders in triumph.

Bradley shakes his head amused, and then refocuses his efforts on the task he’d started with the straw wrapper. He struggles only for a moment- those large fingers getting in the way- as he tries to open the end just enough to slip the tail though. He gives it one more final twist, securing the loop, before inspecting his handiwork.

“Now, since we’re valentines and all, it seemed only fitting that I get you- well, make you- a little something.” Bradley gives you a soft, boyish smile as he holds out his palm towards you, and in the center of it is a perfectly crafted paper ring. “Sorry, I couldn’t find you a Ring Pop on short notice.”

The words escape you for a moment at the sheer sweetness of the gesture.

Gently, you take it from his outstretched hand, and slip it onto the pointer finger of your right hand, adjusting it with care until you have it situated just right.

“I usually wouldn’t be able to accept something so grand on a first date. But for you, I’ll make an exception,” you say, liltingly. “Thank you, Bradley.”

You look down to appreciate it again, more than a little tempted to take it off and tuck it securely into your purse for safekeeping. For as much as you liked your dress and bag and your shoes, that little paper ring was now your favorite piece of the outfit you were wearing.

When you glance back up at him, his cheeks have the faintest pink hue to them. The little nonchalant shrug he tries to give you does nothing to hide how pleased he looks. “I make a mean daisy chain too. We might have to wait a couple months for Spring, but I’m good for it.”

Your mind flashes with an image of you and him in a park with a picnic basket sat between the two of you, and those large hands of his threading celery green stems together. It’s a pretty picture.

“Well, aren’t you just a regular modern day Renaissance man.”

“I’m a man of many talents,” he rasps, silky smooth. It makes goosebumps raise along your arms. “Now, I’ve told you mine. Can’t say I’m not dying to know what your big move is. Am I going to get to see it, sweetheart?”

“Maybe,” you muse, lifting your glass to take another sip, “If you’re good.”

Bradley hooks a foot under you stool and tugs you just a few inches closer. “Just out of curiosity, what’s your position on kissing on a first date?”

You bend forward towards him and think you hear his breath hitch, you smile. “I’ll keep you posted.”

You’re still looking at his lips when a shout from across the bar startles you both.

“Bradshaw!”

Bradley mutters a string of curses and then blows out a breath, giving you a smoldering look that tells you that the conversation is far from over. You’re more than willing to let him try and change your mind about where he lands in the mustache rankings.

You look over your shoulder to see the with the sharp smile from earlier waving your date over to the pool table. “I take it you know, Malibu Ken?”

“Unfortunately.” A mischievous look coasts over his face. “But I’ll get you all the Ring Pops you could ever want if you say that to his face.”

You laugh. “I’m holding out for that daisy chain.”

Another holler rings out from across the room, the same Southern drawl as before.

“Seems like he wants your attention. Is he a Leo?”

He snorts. “You know what, he just might be. But more like he’s been waiting for the right moment to annoy me since I ditched him to come talk to a pretty girl instead.”

You try not to preen at the compliment.

“The relentless type, huh?”

“You don’t know the half of it. I think I’m about thirty seconds from him queuing up “You Make Me Feel So Young” on repeat just to fuck with me,” Bradley explains. There’s a story there and you want to know more. “I know I still owe you the big move, but is it alright if I try to show off a little for you now? Just to get off my back for the rest of the night, then I’m all yours.”

You feel like you’ve just pulled an ace from your pocket.

“What are the stakes?” you ask, intrigued.

“Two hundred dollars and a whiskey,” Bradley replies.

You let out a low whistle, trying to school the catlike grin that wants to overtake your face. “That’s a lot of Ring Pops.”

The corners of his mouth curl up. “I was thinking dinner for our third date,” he says. “I’m buying for our second, of course. But it’s only right that we split the spoils of war.”

The sound of a brass band rings out over the staticky speakers and Bradley hangs his head down and lets out a long-suffering groan. You playfully pat his shoulder in faux commiseration.

You pretend to consider it for a moment, but you already know your answer. “Okay,” you agree, “Just as long as you’re okay with a little respectful ogling. You like my dress, and I like those jeans you’re wearing.”

He laughs, it’s a throaty rich sound. “I’d be offended if you didn’t.”

You gather for you purse and sweater as Bradley stands. His hands come to your waist, helping you off the chair, your bodies closer than close. It’s a forward move- he knows it, you know it- but with him, you don’t mind at all.

Bradley offers you his hand and you take it in yours; his fingers slip between yours easily like the two of you have already done this before.

The two of you only make it a few steps before you tug on his hand, waiting until he looks at you from over his shoulder before asking, with a lifted brow, “Bradley Bradshaw?”

He huffs out a not-so-exasperated sigh, “I blame it on the 80’s.”

“Whatever you say, Brad-Brad.” It’s the one and only time you’re ever going to say it, you decide. You like saying his name too much to shorten it. And his back may be turned to you now, but that now familiar chuckle still makes its way to your ears.

Bradley leads you to the bar first, where he buys another glass of rosé and a beer for himself. When you try to pass your credit card to the woman behind the counter, he takes it, and rasps into your ear, “Let me.”

He tucks it right back into your purse as the sound of brass instruments starts up yet again.

“Like a dog with a goddamn bone,” you hear him mumble. And you press your lips together to keep from laughing. Sure, you’d rather be seeing his big move, but you can’t claim not to be amused by all of this.

He nods to a group of people in the corner near the popcorn machine when the two of you enter the alcove with pool table. Some of his other friends of his you assume.

You send them a little wave, one that they return in greeting. You can tell they’re curious, but you’re grateful when they resume their conversation instead of making you feel like your date with Bradley had become a spectator sport for their viewing entertainment.

The first thing Bradley does is introduce you to his friend. It’s a little thing, but he does it without prompt or awkwardly leaving you to take the initiative yourself. You appreciate the way he is still prioritizing your comfort the way he’s been doing it since he first sat down across from you.

The second thing he does is pull out a chair for you. Not with a fanfare, not with a flourish. But like it’s something that’s innately ingrained in him. You get the sense that the gentleman thing isn’t an act with him, it’s who he is.

Jake rests a hip against the table. “Sorry to interrupt your date, but Bradshaw and I had some unfinished business.”

You wave him off, it’s not a big deal. Not when you’ll have the rest of the night with Bradley. Plus, you’re eager to watch this play out between them, curious about their gameplay.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get this over with,” Bradley rumbles, as he arranges the balls in the rack. And you wonder if he lost the lag before he’d made his way over to your table for one.

He comes back over to you, and leans on the ledge next to you as he chalks his cue. You’d thought about slipping your sweater back on, with the outside chill pressing against the line of glass windows at your back, but Bradley had more than enough warmth radiating off of him that you didn’t need to.

“You that eager to be out a couple hundred, Bradshaw?” Jake grins, as he leans over the side of the table. He turns his gaze to you and sends you a wink right before he breaks, sending the cue ball barreling into the others with a resounding clack, scattering them across the table.

And then they’re off.

It’s a rapid fire of back-and-forth banter between the men as they take their shots. Mostly good natured, but undeniably competitive. Smirking when they land their shots, and snarking over fouls. Clear that neither of them wants to lose.

Jake is all confident posturing, playing low over the cue with a lightly too tight grip. It’s the only thing that gives him away that he’s not the easygoing player as he wants people to think he is. Choosing higher risk shots that would highlight his ability versus some of the more straightforward options laid out for him, and skilled enough that it pays off most of the time. But after a couple rounds you note he’s too quick to stand up after taking his shot, not enough follow through because he’s too eager to see if his gamble pays off.

Bradley is all loose-limbed ease, clearly comfortable in both his skin and at the table. You can tell he’s probably playing quicker than he normally does, clearly trying to hurry up the game for your sake, even though he doesn’t need to. Although he does take his time as he positions himself around the table, only adjusting his bridge every now and then. Always with a 1-2 shot, a warm-up stroke followed by a steady hit. Watching him you catch his tendency to throw out his elbow of the follow through.

The two are pretty well matched in skill, you observe with keen eyes, as the balls skate across the Top Gun insignia, against the rails, and into pockets.

When Bradley’s not up to play, he’s by your side, right at your elbow. And when he is, it’s your eyes he’s looking into the moment he stands back up, seeking out your reaction. But more than once you feel his eyes on you as you watch them play.

True to your word, you to admire him in those snug fitting jeans. And when he catches your appreciative gaze, he sends you a wink before lining up his next shot.

Jake sinks another solid into the pocket he’d called only moments ago, and turns his dimpled smile at you, “You still sure about your date with the old man, chickadee? I bet I could show him up in that department too.”

The way he says it, you know he’s just teasing, probably just to rile you date up and get a reaction from him.

“Unfortunately for you, I think I have a thing for mustaches now,” you toss back, unbothered. And Bradley smiles into his drink.

You watch as Jake lines up his next shot and hits the white with a compact stroke.

“Double hit,” you declare.

“Dammit,” Jake curses.

You look over to see Bradley looking at you with a focused look on his face. Like there’s a theory clicking into place, one he needs the answer to. Wordlessly, he hands you the cue.

“You sure?” you ask.

“Two hundred dollars sure,” he states.

You take it from him with a sly grin.

Bradley’s thighs brush against the front of your knees, you know if you parted them even a couple inches, that he’d fit just right between them. His hands landing on your waist again as he assists you off the stool you’ve been perched on. And you’re starting to think he just likes an excuse to touch you, not that he needs one because you already more than like the feel of his hands on your body.

You walk the pool table, running a finger around the rails as you do. Evaluating the balls on the table like they’re chess pieces. The slow clip of your heels on the floor like the tick of a clock as you take your time deciding your approach.

“You’re the stripes,” Jake offers helpfully. “Don’t worry, I’ll even let you have a free shot.”

And you can’t help but laugh because this is going to be fun.

“Bradley?” you ask, leisurely chalking your cue.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Do you mind?” You gesture to the spot behind you, and he catches on quick with a not-so-subtle glance at the short hem of your skirt.

He sets his beer down and comes to stand behind you, there’s just enough space between the two of you that you don’t have to worry about hitting him with the cue, his broad from proving you the coverage you needed to bend over the table. While you don’t think you’d mind Bradley seeing the silk thong you had on underneath your dress, you weren’t exactly up for flashing the whole bar.

You haven’t played in a while, but it’s a muscle memory at this point, as you map out your moves. Seeing the lines and angles and arcs in your mind’s eye before anchoring your bridge.

You look at Bradley from over your shoulder, only to see his eyes are trained on the ceiling with his tongue pressed against his cheek. A gentleman, albeit not an unaffected one. A tendril of smokey gratification curls its way along your spine. You turn your head back to the pool table looking between the cue, target, cue ball, target.

It’s a smooth stroke with a satisfying crack. A clean three-rail shot that lands the striped five into the pock you’d intended for it.

“Damn” is all Jake says. His eyes you up, clearly impressed.

“You sure about that free shot, Jake?” You stand up and smooth out your dress, just for the show of it. “Or do you want to make it double or nothing instead, Malibu Ken?” You hear Bradley snort from behind you.

And just like you thought, he wasn’t one to back down from a challenge, “Deal.” Jake turns to Bradley. “I just let your girl hustle me, didn’t I?”

“You sure did,” Bradley says with a grin, but his eyes are on you.

Neither are surprised when you sink your next shot too. The six sailing into the left corner pocket.

On your next shot, you may or may not deliberately foul. A tactical choice that sets Jake up with a less than ideal position on the table, knowing it’ll be a difficult shot for him to make.

“Now you’re just toying with me, aren’t you?” Jake grouses.

You just smile and take a sip of the rosé that Bradley hands you, neither confirming or denying.

Surprisingly, he banks it. But his good luck only lasting through that one play. Because on his next, the ball glances off the side rail at too acute an angle to reach the intended pocket and he groans.

Not quite ready to be done, you ease off a little. Enough that they both know you’re going easy on him to extend the game longer, just so that he can catch up to you.

But soon enough, soon there’s only your eight ball left on the table.

“Looks like you’re about to be out four hundred dollars, Jake,” you say with a self-satisfied smirk.

“Just put me out of my misery already.”

You turn to Bradley, who has been carefully positioning himself behind you the whole time. You hold out the cue to him and ask, “Do you want the honors?”

He shakes his head. “Go on, finish him off, sweetheart. I’m enjoying the show.”

And when your final ball tips into the side pocket, Jakes resounding groan is drown out by the whistle Bradley lets loose between his thumb and pointer finger, as you turn towards him beaming.

“The atm’s by the restroom.” Bradley sounds only too happy to remind Jake as he closes the gap between the two of you.

You look over his wide shoulder, “As for the whiskey, something expensive please, Malibu Ken.”

Jake huffs a grumble but nods all the same as he goes to round up your winnings.

“Scored four hundred dollars and a valentine, that’s not too shabby, if I do say so myself,” you preen to Bradley.

“Think that might have been the best thing I’ve seen all year,” Bradley announces. “The hottest too, if I’m being honest.” You feel your cheeks heat under his gaze. His finger slips under the thin strap of your dress that had fallen off your shoulder somewhere along the way. He slides it back up and into place, treating it like some delicate thing the same way he did that paper wrapper. “Where’d you learn to play like that?”

Normally, this is when you’d rerack, but you’ve never had a Bradley Bradshaw looking at you before.

“I took a class in college over the summer as an elective credit, and it turns out I had a knack for it,” you explain with a playful little shrug.

“I’ll say.” He takes another step closer. “Did you just show me your move, sweetheart?”

“One of them,” you grin.

You don’t have to press up to his height, not with your pearly heels.

You wrap your arms around his neck and bring his lips to yours for a kiss. A sound of surprise escapes from his throat. You feel the curve of a smile before his hands slide around your waist to pull you closer.

The scrape of his mustache against your upper lip sends electricity racing along every nerve ending in your body. In that moment you are Midas touched, the blood thrumming through your veins feels like liquid gold. It’s unhurried, like he’s been waiting to savor the feel of your mouth against his. Exciting and new as you learn the taste and touch of him. You knew it was going to be good, but even so, it’s better than you could have expected.

“Think you just snagged that number one spot of my list of favorite mustached men,” you say against his lips.

“Suck it, Selleck,” he rasps.

You inhale the amusement of his light chuckle, letting it go to your head like champagne bubbles, before he slips a hand around the base of your neck and pulling you in close once again.

A couple hours later, you find yourself at home on the couch. Your cheeks a little sore from how much smiling you’d done tonight, as Tom and Meg trade words over a plate of caviar on screen.

It was only much later that night you’d gotten to see Bradley’s big move.

He’d surprised you with his voice and the talented way his fingers glided over the white and black keys. An expensive glass of amber colored liquor sitting atop the old piano as he played, and four hundred dollars tucked safely away in your purse.

You’d given him your number when he’d walked you to your car, only distracting you for a few extra minutes with his mouth, before you’d left for the night, hoping that you’d hear from him soon.

A notification lights up your phone, and a ribbon of thrill unspools through you.

You sigh when you see that it’s a notification from your dating app. You’re wary to open it, not wanting anything to color your night, but you figure now is as good of time as any to block the guy who had nothing on the one you’d spent your evening with.

When you see the name of the person who’d sent you a message, you click into his profile with lightning-fast fingers, skimming all the details to things you hadn’t had a chance to learn yet.

𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐰

𝐀𝐠𝐞: 𝟑𝟓

𝐉𝐨𝐛 𝐓𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: 𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐭

𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥: 𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐚

𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬: 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥

𝐙𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐜 𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐧: 𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫

There is a picture of him in uniform, grinning to someone out of the frame. And another one of him shirtless on the beach, surrounded by some of the faces you’d seen tonight at the Hard Deck.

But it’s the answers to the prompts that he’d picked, that set your heart fluttering.

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐈 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭: 𝐈 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲. (𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐞𝐫.)

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐬: 𝐈 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬, 𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬.

𝐈 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭: 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬.

That one makes you laugh.

You open the message from him, one that had been sent with a rose.

𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐰: 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞? 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨, 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧? 𝐈 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐈 𝐨𝐰𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐨𝐩.

You don’t even have to think.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐤𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝?

And you can’t help but grin to yourself as look at that paper ring still on your finger. Because you know, this app won’t be on your phone for much longer.

Not now that you’ve met him.

Happy Hearts Day, friends! Thank you for reading!

And a big thank you to Jordan ( @gretagerwigsmuse) for all the support and encouragement and general woogirling over Bradley Bradshaw!

You can read my other stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

#thank you for reading and reblogging!#I’m just so happy you liked it!! 🫶🏻#the babe with the big move

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