#anyway i finished it. good shit ;_; my heart hurts

[thefreakandthehair]

(don't bother) calling me when you're sober | rating: m | wc: 1.5k

content warnings: future fic, parental alcoholism ("falling off the wagon"), past parental neglect, minor character death (i've committed wayne crimes i'm so sorry but it's not shown, just mentioned), emotional hurt/comfort, ends on a happy, hopeful note despite the tags

“My dad called.” 

Eddie walks into the room, pinched eyebrows and flared nostrils lit up by the multicolored Christmas lights they string on the tree every year, one hand balled into a fist. The reaction  wouldn’t surprise Steve so much if this happened years ago, when Al Munson was still living in the bottom of a bottle of Jack, but now? 

It’s been eighteen years since he’d gotten sober, nineteen years since his last stint at Hawkins County, and fifteen years since making a genuine attempt to right the wrongs of Eddie’s childhood and build a relationship with his son. 

Fifteen years after Eddie let him in, let him try, let him earn Eddie’s trust. 

Fifteen years is a long time and to see Eddie so vitriolic in the doorway of their apartment’s living room— hands shaking, body shaking— Steve knows something must’ve gone wrong. 

“What happened?” Steve asks, standing from the couch and meeting Eddie where he stands, holding the hand not curled tightly around itself. 

“He’s drunk. He called, and he was drunk.” 

Steve’s chest pulls tight, his heart racing. What does someone say to that? What can someone say to assuage that kind of deep anger, pain, and betrayal? His thoughts are scattered as they try to make sense of what Eddie just said, and he’s even more grateful now that Ronnie wanted a sleepover with Aunt Robin tonight. 

“Eddie, fuck. I’m so— ” Before he can finish his thought, Eddie leans back against the doorframe, ripping his hand out of Steve’s and tangling his fingers in his hair, tugging. 

“How could he? How fucking could he?!” Eddie bellows, eyes squeezed shut. “He knew! He knew that if he ever did this again, I’d be done. For good. For forever. And he did it anyways! After eighteen fucking years!” 

His eyes fly open and Steve stands still and nods him on. There are just no words to fix this, and trying for the sake of filling the silence has never served him well.

“He did it anyway! Two days before fucking Christmas, a week before the anniversary of—” He chokes and cuts himself off. 

He knows what Eddie was going to say. A week before the anniversary of Wayne’s death. It’s been on his mind, too, of course. On his mind and in their conversations over breakfast with eccentric mugs of coffee, over the tangled lights that Wayne could always figure out. The year hasn’t been the kindest to them, particularly Eddie, and Steve wants to protect Eddie as much as he can from whatever he can. 

But he can’t shield him from this. Al Munson skips to the top of his shitlist.

“That son of a bitch!” Eddie rams his fist sideways against the door jam, leaving a sharp, red mark along his pinky. “He promised, and I believed him. Why the fuck did I believe him, Steve?”

Steve takes a step closer and grabs both of Eddie’s hands, carefully soothing the angry mark. “It’s been almost twenty years, babe. Trusting him with so much time invested makes sense. Hell, I did, too.” 

“I’m— I’m in my 30s, hurt and angry about the same shit I was hurt and angry about as a fucking kid. All the nights I slept in the backseat of the car because he blew his money at the bar, all the car accidents and court appearances and jail time, all the mornings I missed school because he didn’t know what fucking day it was,” Eddie rants, stopping to take a breath before picking back up, Steve’s own heart cracking and raging the more he speaks. 

“And every time he’d get sober, he’d always promise. He’d promise it would be the last time, and it never was. Not once could he choose his fucking son and I didn’t understand it then, but now that we have Ronnie, I understand it even less. If I was sick enough to walk away from her, I’d walk my happy ass to the nearest fucking rehab. I get that it’s a disease, I get it, I get it, I get it. But I can’t— I can’t do it again. Not this time. Eighteen years just down the fucking drain because of his company’s holiday party? How can I ever believe him again? Or trust him again?” 

Eddie’s voice grows raspier, breath shallow and quick, eyes watery. “Every time this happened when I was a kid, I always had Wayne. He’s the only person who really got it, y’know? The only one who lived it with me and now, I don’t even have him. My dad’s drunk, slurring his way through who fucking knows what on the phone, and no one else can fully understand the magnitude of what that feels like for me.” 

He squeezes his eyes shut again and drops forward toward Steve, forehead on his shoulder and arms loosely hung around Steve’s waist. Steve still doesn’t have words that bandage this up, but he knows how to show his husband love in other ways. Ways that, over the years, have become a language all their own. Steve pulls him in tight, one hand near his waist, the other cradling the back of his head. Fingers slide carefully beneath the hem of Eddie’s tee-shirt and rub little, repetitive circles into the small of Eddie’s back while he cards his other hand through Eddie’s hair, scratching his scalp and holding him to his chest to feel the rhythm of Steve’s own heartbeat until his breath returns to a steady pace. 

It’s only then that Steve speaks. 

“I don’t know what to say, Ed. It’s fucked up, and if you want to me like, hit him with my car, you know I’m game.” Steve feels Eddie laugh— just a few puffs of air through his nose but it’s a laugh all the same. “But I’m here, and we’re gonna figure it out, okay? Whatever you decide to do, we’ll do it together.”

Eddie nods and lets himself be led to the couch, Steve tucking Eddie into his side and pulling the afghan up over them. 

“I never want to be what Al was to me to our daughter,” Eddie whispers, not looking away from the tree. 

“Well, you’re ahead of the game, because she’s already older than you were when he started hitting the bottle hard. And I know there’s the genetic piece to it that everyone talks about, but nurture counts for a lot of who we become, too. Shit, I owe Joyce Byers a huge thank you for being more of a parent to me than my own were because she’s probably the reason I didn’t turn out like Dick Harrington. Ronnie’s never going to have an Al Munson in her life, because you weren’t raised by Al Munson. That’s not whose legacy you’re passing down. You’re passing down love, not pain.” Steve presses a soft kiss to Eddie’s temple and feels his whole body sag into him. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Eddie’s voice is quiet now, a far cry from his earlier venomous edge. 

Silence nestles onto the couch with them, a comfortable addition, as they watch the basketball game Steve had on before Eddie told him about the phone call. Watch is a loose description, actually. They're more just looking at a moving, flashing screen. 

“My hand really hurts, by the way,” Eddie announces, holding up the hand he’d used to punch the doorjam. “That was fucking dumb.”

“Maybe a little bit, but I get it,” Steve untucks a hand from beneath the blanket and outstretches his palm. “Lemme see?”

Eddie plops his hand into Steve’s and Steve takes a look, mentally working down the check list he’s memorized from his decade plus of EMT work. No obvious breaks, nothing looks crooked, Eddie’s able to move each finger and flex his hand without severe pain. 

“If anything, it’s just gonna be bruised tomorrow. But I’ll fix it,” Steve grins and lifts Eddie’s fist to his lips, carefully kissing each knuckle and paying a little extra attention to the pinky that delivered most of the blow. 

“I’m so in love with you, Steve.” Eddie rests his temple on Steve’s shoulder. “You know that, right?” 

“I know,” Steve agrees, chest fluttering despite the circumstances. “And I’m in love with you, too. You know that, right?”

Eddie snuggles in and wraps Steve up, full koala, as though he’s trying to get as close as possible without actually cracking Steve open and climbing inside of him. 

“Definitely.”

The next morning, Aunt Robin brings Ronnie home and together, they decorate the gingerbread cookies that only vaguely look like people but are good enough to pass for a seven year old. Halfway through, Eddie’s cell phone rings and the caller I.D. reads Al. Steve watches, worried that Eddie’s going to answer in the middle of their decorating. That he’ll forget Ronnie’s having the time of her life, and that in his righteous indignation, Eddie will leave the table to go fight and argue.

There’s so much to be said, and Steve wouldn’t blame him, but he breathes a sigh of relief when Eddie simply declines the call and sets about pouring more edible glitter onto his design with a smile down at their daughter. 

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #myblurbs #(whispers): yeah so my mom fell off the wagon after 18 years at her fucking work party and this is basically just what my day was #our relationship has always been strained but since she got sober there was at least some contact? #anyways #replace wayne with my grandparents and this is just all projection baybee 😙✌️ #super not cool with it BUT that's why there are some content warnings here you don't see from me very often 💕

[celestiababie]

A Handful - K.MG

Pairings: Stay at home husband! Mingyu x fem! reader

Genre: fluff, highly suggestive (18+), domestic!au, established relationship!

Warnings: PREGNANT READER, chest fondling (m and f receiving), cursing, Mingyu is a little shit, reader is hormonal and easily annoyed, Mingyu possibly has a breeding kink, reader is shorter than Mingyu, let me know if I need to add anything else!

Word Count: 915 (short but I was on hiatus and this is the first thing I'm writing in MONTHS)

Summary: Your husband is no stranger to being touchy and clingy, but he's been especially annoying ever since you gave him the big news.

A/N: I'M MOTHERFUCKING BACK!!! I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing this. For reference, this acts as a small prequel to a small series I have about stay at home husband/dad! Mingyu. You don't have to read the other parts, but I will leave a link to the series masterlist just in case people want to read it. Please leave feedback, I'd really appreciate it, especially since I'm a bit nervous about posting again haha.

Series Masterlist

A pair of warm hands suddenly wrap around your growing stomach, engulfing you as a gigantic presence looms over you. 

The shriek that escapes your lips is embarrassing, but not nearly embarrassing as your hands lose their grasp on the plate you were scrubbing, dropping it in the sink and causing the fine porcelain to shatter. 

"Shit—are you hurt, baby?" Your husband's voice echoes through the not yet completed kitchen, irking you more than it normally would. 

Spinning in his hold, you wipe your damp hands on the sides of your sweatpants before shooting him one of the deadliest (and sexiest) glares he's ever witnessed.

"No, I'm not hurt, but I keep telling you not to sneak up behind me when I'm doing the dishes! I don't even understand how your tall ass is that fucking quiet," you start, your brows furrowed as you hold your glare.

Mingyu opens his mouth to reply but can't get a single word out before you shush him with a single finger to the lips. 

"I'm not finished. And this is the fifth. No, the sixth time a plate has broken since we've moved here." 

"That's not that bad, Y/n," Mingyu defends with a pout accompanying his words.

You cock a brow at the tall man, scoffing at his pathetic defense, your tongue pressed into the side of your cheek.

Six plates is a lot for any man, but it becomes comical when it's only been a month and a half since moving into the new house with your klutz of a husband. 

"You've also spilled drinks. Many times. Dropped multiple glasses. And don't think that I'm stupid and don't know you dropped the bottle of wine Minghao gifted us. I was looking forward to drinking that. That's pretty bad, admit it, Gyu," you list off, enjoying how a deep rosiness reaches the tips of his ears, almost as deep as the wine you'd never be able to appreciate. 

Mingyu slowly turned your frame back around to face the sink once again. His hands roamed across your stomach, which was getting bigger and bigger with every day that passed.

 Like always, Mingyu felt his heart racing in his chest as he caressed your stomach, his body flooding with that overwhelming emotion he could only describe as true unconditional happiness and love for both of his girls. 

Okay, maybe he didn't know the sex of the baby yet, but his gut was telling him he was gonna be a father of a little baby girl, and he was sticking to it for now. His intuition rarely failed him, and if he hadn't stuck to his guns, he would have never got together with you. 

"You wouldn't be able to drink it right now anyway, baby. Let's focus on things I'm good at, hm? The kitchen is almost done, and the living room looks beautiful, if I do say so myself. I'm pretty good at painting, so I'll have the nursing done in no time. I just cooked my beautiful wife a wonderful meal that she was moaning about the entire time," he shamelessly declares, the smugness apparent in his voice. 

You bite back a sassy remark when you feel his hands traverse up your abdomen, gently grabbing your swollen breasts in his large hands to massage them carefully. Your head relaxes against him as you let out a deep sigh, your husband's skillful hands rubbing away the ache and soreness. 

Mingyu studied your blissful expression for what felt like the millionth time. He'd never grow tired of how your eyes would flutter shut, eyelashes resting on the tops of your cheeks as your pretty lips parted, taking deep breaths as you savored the feeling of his hands on your body. 

He tilts his head to bring his lips closer to your ear, "And I'm really good at making mommy feel good, isn't that right, baby?" 

Your eyes roll behind your eyelids as you let out a breathy laugh, amused but not surprised by your husband's antics.

"You're so annoying, Mingyu," you moan, practically purring your husband's name, which only inflates his ego more.

"How convenient for me; you've always looked so damn sexy when annoyed."

A light bulb lights up in your head as you watch your husband's back muscles as he walks over to the kitchen sink to set aside the dishes. 

Let's see how he likes it.

A Cheshire-like smirk paints your lips as you slowly come up behind your half-naked husband to wrap your arms around his waist, your stomach pressing against his tanned skin.

But much to your disappointment, Mingyu didn't give you the reaction you hoped for. 

"Gonna keep me company while I wash up?"

You frown and deeply exhale as you crawl your hands further up his torso. Your nails drag along his skin, which generates a shiver throughout his entire being, goosebumps forming on his skin. 

"No, I'm trying to give you a taste of your own medicine, but you're enjoying this too much," you reply, your fingers inching further with every word.

A low moan rumbles out of Mingyu as your hands feel up his sore chest from working out right before waking you for breakfast. 

Shit, his chest got even bigger. Damn, that home gym he insisted on. 

You watch as Mingyu writhes against you as your fingers trail over his nipples, a shaky breath forced out of his body as he grabs the edge of the sink.

He's so annoying.

#svt #seventeen #svt fic #svt fluff #svt smut #svt x reader #svt imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen fic #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen imagines #mingyu fic #mingyu smut #mingyu imagines #mingyu x reader #mingyu #kim mingyu #stay at home! mingyu #🌌:celestialworks

[princessbrunette]

Baby daddy rafe being hit on everyone at the country club and reader not being able to do anything cuz they’re not together<//33

🧸✧˖°❅🍥

you don’t even know why you come to this stupid place anymore.

you supposed it was to keep up appearances. you didn’t wanna be that girl that turned twenty, got pregnant and then disappeared off the radar. why should you have to live in shame of being a young parent if rafe cameron didn’t? you refused, hence why you were taking a quiet afternoon off, sitting with a glass of wine at the country club enjoying the sunshine before you’d have to return to motherhood.

you didn’t expect him to be there at the same time you were. you try it to be cool about it, because you knew you were not with him — but seeing him surrounded by a group of girls batting their lashes and twirling their hair up at him made you feel… icky. you were protective, you supposed. sure, you weren’t together but that was the father of your child. the wine gave you that little confidence boost, so you decide to go and intervene, make something up.

flattening out your sundress you totter over, briefly losing that confidence for a moment as you stand to the side, waiting for your turn to be noticed like the rest of them. when he does, he cuts the flirtatious laughter short to politely shoo them away, wandering over to you.

“hi.” you state bashfully, embarrassed that you have to take up any of his time as if he didn’t put a whole baby in your stomach.

“hey, uh… how’s my girl?” he asks, and for a brief hopeful moment you think he’s talking about you. your chest warms anyway.

“she’s good. sarah is babysitting right now.” you explain softly, finding it hard to hold the eye contact. your eyes drift over to the girls he was speaking to instead, noticing their jealous glares. rafe hums, bringing his beer bottle to his lips and taking a sip.

“‘long as she’s not letting my baby around those pogues.” he comments, displeased and your heart sinks a little. you hate when he’s disappointed. maybe your hormones were still all out of whack. “was there… something you needed from me?”

you blink up at him dumbly, conjuring up an excuse. “w— uh… i was wondering… when you wanted to see her?” you fiddle with your hands, body heating up at how ill prepared you were for this conversation. he blinks, shifting on his feet.

“do i not…come and see her every weekend? i dont…” he frowns, genuinely confused. your eyes widen as you nod.

“yeah, no — of course i was just… wondering if you wanted to see her during the week too or anything? if you maybe wanted to…come over just for a little while?” you shrug, trying to make it as casual as possible. he stares at you for a moment like he’s trying to read you before looking around.

“you— you know i’m a very busy man now and —” he starts but you cut him off, already too hurt to let him continue.

“yeah! no it’s okay i totally get it rafe. i don’t wanna impede, you’re already doing a lot and i don’t wanna ask too m—” you go to ramble politely, humiliated at the speed in which the fat tears spring to your eyes.

“hey— let me finish, alright?” he places two hands on your shoulders and you immediately shut up, blinking up at him tearfully. “what i was going to say, okay — is — is that i’m a busy man now, but… you say the word and… i’ll drop everything, yeah? whats the problem have — have you been struggling with… with the baby or, what?” he looks concerned. maybe it was fatherhood that was changing him but you could tell he genuinely gave a shit. no he wasn’t fully rid of his boyish troublesome ways but there had definitely been a shift and that was enough to relieve you. he watches the stress physically melt from your body, brow relaxing as you sigh.

“not a…problem, rafe really it’s okay i just… it can be a little lonely… and i suppose i just want her to see her parents interacting, show her that we’re okay with eachother you know? give her some healthy ideals.” you explain, but really he stopped listening after the word lonely.

“i—i didn’t know you were lonely like that, you know i… i wouldn’t let that happen… okay? i’ll come over. we’ll hang out… yeah?” one hand that was resting on your shoulder comes up to cup your cheek in emphasis and you so badly want to nuzzle into it, let him take the weight of your head. instead you just stare up with doe eyes.

“yeah.” it comes out as a whisper and he licks his lips, nodding in approval.

“alright then.”

you glance over to the glaring girls and your gaze darts downwards. “uh, i think i’m upsetting your girlfriends.” you chuckle awkwardly, going to step back. he glances over his shoulder, letting go over you before shrugging a shoulder carelessly.

“more like… god damn fan girls. those bit— uh, women won’t leave me alone.” he corrects himself, making a clear effort. “gonna go and find topper now, okay? you gonna be fine?” he takes a step back and you want him to stay but you nod anyway.

“see you, rafe.”

you have a warm feeling in your stomach when you leave the country club. you weren’t together, and only a few weeks ago you were telling people how glad you were that this was the case. but now things were different. his favouritism should have been clear due to the fact he’d knocked you up, and maybe it was pity, if that was something rafe was even capable of — but you didn’t care. rafe liked you the most.

🧸✧˖°❅🍥

#anon #rafe cameron prompt #babydaddy!rafe

[jade-jini]

“I’m the Drama”

Kim Minjeong x Reader

Prompt: Jeongie showering after having nasty sex with her ex who she swore she would never ever be back to but she can’t help it ‘cause the pussy too good. “Even when you broke me, you’re too much of a good fuck to let it go.”

Genre: Smut, Angst

TW: toxic exes, mentions of cheating(but who knows). emotional issues. Mostly hate sex.

If Minjeong had to use one word to describe pleasure, it would be easy: you.

“Fuck.. y/n~” Minjeong moaned, grabbing your hair tightly and keeping you closer to her cunt (not like you would try to get away anyways) “I’m gonna fucking come.. Hmm fuck don’t stop…~” she begged in that cute high pitched tone she had when she was on the verge of her orgasm. You knew it very well, you’ve heard it a million times. You gave the girl what she wanted, and moved your tongue so fast until she was making a delicious mess in your mouth “oh my fuckin godddd…” she loudly cried while reaching her climax for who knows what time in that night already.

Once she calmed down, she looked at you, and you looked at her too, quietly making such intense eye contact, neither of you willing to let go. To let go of several things…

“Is this the part where you send me home ‘cause you promised to never let me sleep in your bed again?” You asked her, making her clicked her tongue and roll her eyes, grabbing you by the shoulders and pushing you to the bed now. She had you on your back while getting ready between your legs yet again.

“Shut the fuck up and moan for me, y/n.” she ordered and you were ready to obey, not without teasing her first tho.

“You know, that’s confusing. Do you want me to moan or do you want me to shut up baby?” And making you gasp, she grabbed you by the neck as soon as the pet name left your mouth, ‘cause hearing you calling her anything like that after your breakup felt like a dagger of memories to her heart.

“You know what? yes. I prefer if you just shut the fuck up.” She said, grabbing her own panties and shoving them into your mouth. You wanted to complain but fuck it, you were in no position (plus you loved having her panties in your mouth don’t Fuckin act funny). You felt the girl’s fingers massaging your clit, while her face showed a frown as she focused her eyes on your pussy. Seeing her so concentrated was something you always found so hot.

However, you knew she was doing her best not to look into your eyes, and that saddened you. Unlike before when she’d love looking at them and express her love through her endearing stare and soft smiles, now she wanted to avoid being too aware that it was you, her ex, the one that hurt her, who she was fucking. Minjeong knew nobody would turn her on like you, but if she thought too much about anything, it would just freak her out. Too much pain she tried not to process.

If Minjeong had to use one word to describe pain, it would also be easy: you.

“You cheated!” she accused once again, dressed in an oversized shirt.

“oh my goshhh…” you left out in a stressed sigh while finishing putting your shirt back on “not this again. I did NOT cheat, we were not together anymore. Just get. Over it.” you remarked every word, you were tired of this. You’re not even sure what exactly triggered this argument again this time, but it never took too much for Minjeong to get so worked up when you were there. The plan was to simply go home after hooking up, trying not to argue but of course, you guys failed again. Like always.

“You didn’t even wait a fucking week! I fucking caught you while picking up my stuff you horny piece of lying shit.” she said while pushing your shoulders.

“But it was not cheating! Jesus, minjeong, YOU broke up with me. You broke up with me because you said I turned distant and instead of talking to me, YOU alone decided to end our relationship. Why are you acting like I’m the villain?!”

“Because you are! And what? Am I supposed to believe you didn’t know her from before? That you weren’t fucking before we broke up?!” you really hated her tone and the assumptions she kept making over and over again.

“Think whatever you want, Minjeong.”

“yeah of course I’m gonna think whatever I want, because you know it’s true. Fucking cheater.”

“Don’t Fucking talk to me in that tone, Minjeong.” you warned her, clenching your jaw.

“Or what,y/n? What the fuck are you gonna do?” she challenged you, her face too close to yours. You were looking at each other like you wanted to kill each other, and maybe you wanted, or maybe…

“Oh fuck… oh my Fuckin god!” Minjeong screamed under you, her nails deep on your back and the strap deep inside her as she clenched around it so tight, coming with you while the other end of the toy made you reach your own climax, biting on the girl’s shoulder. “Fuck! That hurt you fucking idiot, let go!” She complained while pushing you to the side, now both of you lying side to side on the bed, looking at the ceiling trying your best to ignore the post nut clarity. there goes another burning, steamy round of sex. Bodies so sweaty and hot you could feel the hair stuck to your forehead and nape. “I’m gonna take a shower, you better not be here once I’m out.” She said, in a bitter tone that was still somehow calmed. You heard her, but didn’t show any reaction as your eyes were still stuck to the ceiling. You sighed, hearing her enter the shower, knowing you had to get up soon to get your clothes before she decided to do it herself and pushed you out of her door half naked.

——

On a different occasion, after you two finished, you didn’t wait for her to tell you to go. You started getting dressed up a little faster than usual. Normally, you waited for her to just kick you out, ‘cause deep down you always had a little hope she’d let you stay with her, to sleep in each other’s arms like before, like when you were each other’s home and safe place. The day after tho, you were busy because of work and you needed to advance some of it so you did have to go home that night. However, Minjeong didn’t buy it.

“Why are you in such a hurry?” she asked very curious and clearly upset about your behavior, which surprised you because she was always the one in a hurry to get you out of her apartment. You scoffed.

“What? Now you want me to stay?” you asked in a sarcastic tone, which made her role her eyes “I have work tomorrow morning and stuff to finish tonight, I don’t have time to wait around until you’re kicking me out and throwing my clothes at me in the middle of the hallway.”

“Bullshit.” she said, clearly getting worked up once again because of whatever she was imagining. “what is it? That bitch texted you to get home soon?”

“What are you talking about?” You asked really tired, you really didn’t wanna deal with this tonight.

“You know who I’m talking about, y/n. Your new bitch, the one you cheated on me with.” she answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Are you fucking serious? How many times do I have to tell you that it was a ONE time thing? Why cant you get that through your fucking head?!”

“Don’t you fucking lie to me!” she yelled, tears threatening to fall already.

“I am NOT lying, fuck!” you yelled back, agitated about this whole situation, this whole routine and cycle.

“God why do we always end up fighting?!” she screamed louder in exasperation. She just doesn’t understand how someone who used to make her feel so much love now upset her so easily.

“I don’t know! You tell me!” you told her, moving your hands as you speak to emphasize your desperation for answers “You’re always the first one to raise your fucking voice. What, am I supposed to just accept it and let you talk to me like that like—”

“Shut up! Just shut the fuck up!” she yelled with a trembling voice and tears already falling down her face, grabbing your shirt and hardly pushing you against the wall, making you go quiet and a little scared. Both of you breathing heavy, her so close to you that you could feel her breathe on your lips. She rested her forehead against yours without making eye contact, just trying her best to calm herself. “I Fuckin hate you, y/n.”

“No you don’t…” you whispered, this time waiting for her to make the next move. And so she did, kissing you deeply. And there you went for yet another round. This time, it made you so exhausted that you fell asleep for a little while, and Minjeong decided to take the chance to shower.

She hated herself. For enjoying the taste of your lips, the touch of your hands, the feeling of your skin. The taste of your body and how you knew hers so well. She hated you (no) but she hated herself more for not being able to escape you, to resist you. You broke her fucking heart and you didn’t even seem to care, and still here she was, calling you when she needed you, and you would always come like you always did. Or when you suddenly text her or knock on her door, she couldn’t deny you. Her body burned for your touch.

It burned for it and afterwards it would still burn, but for different reasons. Minjeong always needed to shower after having sex with her ex. She needed that private time, to desperately try and erase you from her body like she wasn’t gonna call you again soon. Minjeong would cry under the water, knowing she could never erase the print you’ve left in her heart, her soul. Knowing she would always yearn for you to make her body yours. She was yours, and as much as she hated the pain you caused her, this is something she had yet to accept. That you were each other’s. That she couldn’t just cut that thread. Her body didn’t listen to her, her mind was fragmented and so was her heart. Pieces of them everywhere inside of her, most of them not able to process all of this.

So she’d cry under the shower, out of pain, out of anger, out of love. Out of so many things. Kim Minjeong was just emotionally exhausted, and you? You were emotionally numb. And you were trying to be ok with it for now, ‘cause you knew the moment everything hit you again, it was gonna be chaos inside of you. You were not gonna be able to process your girl not being your girl anymore. The love of your life turned into some type of enemy that didn’t want you but couldn’t let you go either. So you trick your brain, deep down hoping things will get better and you’ll find some answers. For now? You’d make Minjeong yours again and again the only way she allowed you to.

Even if it was killing you both.

#kpop gg #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #aespa x reader #aespa smut #aespa imagines #aespa scenarios #aespa minjeong #aespa winter #kim minjeong #minjeong x reader #minjeong smut #minjeong angst #Aespa winter x reader

[lukesaprince]

Rich Part 21 Sneaky 👀

“You just take it so fucking well, don’t you sweetheart? Always squeeze around my cock so tight.” Harry uttered through gritted teeth, fingers achingly squeezed into your cheeks while his eyes remained glued to where you two were connected.

Harry always loved fucking you from behind. The heart shape of your ass, the way he could see all your pretty holes and how you clenched around him, the way he could get his cock inside you deeper than other positions… how he could grab your hips and fuck you hard, bruising your insides and out. He liked being able to spank your pretty ass and thumb at your tight ring of muscles and he especially liked spreading your cheeks and burying his face between them. 

But nothing compared to watching your face. The way your eyes would roll back into your head, how they’d flutter and close when something felt especially good. The scrunch of your nose and furrow of your brow and the way your mouth would part in a whimper when something hurt a little too good. The way your jaw would clench and slack and how dazed your eyes got when he wrapped his hand around your throat.

He loved watching the effect he had on you. Your face showed him how good he was making you feel in a way your body didn’t and it became a little game to him on how to get you to make certain facial expressions. 

Mostly though… he liked watching your eyes gloss over the harder he fucked you, the meaner he was. He loved to watch you slip into an ultimate state of submission and pleasure. 

“Daddy…” You moaned, unable to come up with anything in reply to him. You were already too far gone. 

“I know.” He sympathised. “Shit baby, you feel so fucking good. So good. Got the best pussy, you do.” 

There was nothing like having a man moan for you. When they whimpered for you, praised you.

“Love your cock.” The words tumbled out without real thought, “feels so good. Always need it so bad.”

Shit. You didn’t talk dirty very often, not that Harry minded. He liked to watch your reactions when he uttered total filth. But Jesus… when you said anything remotely sexual like that, that you loved his cock? For a moment he feared he was going to prematurely cum before he made you finish for the second time. 

“I love when you talk dirty to me, baby, but you’re gonna need to stop if you want me to keep fucking you.”

You let out a choked laugh at his words, loving how one small compliment had him stilling for a second to collect himself. You clenched on purpose, gasping with a smile when he pinched your cheeks a little harder. 

“Spit in my mouth.”

Now you were just fucking with him. Through the haze of your pussy being completely destroyed by him, you still managed to tease him and be a fucking brat. 

“God, you’re fucking filthy tonight.” He gritted, cocking his head while sliding his hand down your jaw to the top of your throat so he could tuck his thumb into your mouth. “Open up.”

Your lips parted instantly, earning a pleased ‘good girl’ in return that had you happy as anything. “Stick your tongue out.” Again, you followed his instruction instantly, whimpering when his fingers dug into the sides of your neck with purpose. “That’s it. Good girl.”

Yeah... Daddy is back I guess... ANYWAY if you'd like to read the entire 6.5k word smut scene you can find it on my patreon now 👼

#harry styles smut #harry smut #neighbour harry #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry fanfiction #harry x reader #harry au #harry styles au #harry styles x reader #smut #fic #fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry x y/n #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry writing #harry styles fiction #harry fiction #harry #harry edward styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fan #older harry fic #older!harry

[incorrectmarvelquotesss]

— flufftober (day 19) —

Warnings: fluff, implied sex

Prompt: “Hey, wake up!”

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

@flufftober || flufftober masterlist

A/N: Like I said, I have a ton of them in my drafts just waiting to be finished.

Bucky was ready to crash.

His eyes were dropping shut as the soft rumbles of the Quinjet sing him a lullaby. The seat, no matter how uncomfortable, had never looked so inviting. He wanted nothing more than be at home in his bed, holding his girl. But they were still hours away from the Compound then.

And Steve just had to have the post-mission meeting five minutes after they landed.

Bucky was ready to blow a fuse by the time Steve dismissed them. He hurriedly packed his duffel bag, exchanging the Kevlar for regular clothes without bothering to take a nice long shower—they had been out in the rain anyway. Not that you liked the smell of wet grass and dirt.

He just hoped he didn’t smell like shit as he sat into his pickup and drove away.

The landscape of trees woved into old town buildings before he pulled into the driveway of an old brownstone. It was in good condition, but it wasn’t hard to tell that it had been standing for a couple of decades. The vine that had grown along its side had etched into the bricks and the driveway was still gravel halfway through.

He had left it like this for that damn mission.

He parked beside the bright blue SUV and shoved the door open, grabbing the duffel bag on the passenger seat at the last second. He grumbled incoherent threats to Fury, Steve, and the stupid, idiotic people who just couldn’t stop doing harmful things. He kicked off his shoes quickly, ignoring the fact that you were going lecture him on putting his shoes on the shoe rack where they belonged. Especially when they looked like that—muddy and wet.

He took two stairs at a time, ready to finally have you in his arms.

Then, when he opened his bedroom door quietly, he saw that his spot had been taken. His heart skipped a beat or two. The two figures were easily recognizable, cuddled up in the bed with the extra pillows thrown behind you. Bucky’s heart thumped loudly in his ears as he took in the sight before him, heart practically melting.

He dropped his duffel bag, accidentally waking you up with the knives clashing in there. He came over and kissed your forehead, running a hand through Grant’s curls of hair and gently kissing his chubby cheek. The four-year-old smiled in his sleep.

“You smell like shit,” you said with a loopy smile. You tilted your head back and pouted your lips, letting him know that you expected him to get into bed with you and your baby boy the second he came home. He kissed your lips quickly three times, both an act of love and apology.

“I’ll be quick,” he murmured, unable to talk louder even if he tried. His heart was still trying to process the absolute precious moment in front of him. “Wanted to be home.”

You hummed lightly and let your eyes droop shut. “You hurt?” You asked with a grab at his hand. He squeezed your hand gently.

“No, ma’am.”

You peeked at him and have him a once over. “Be quick.” His eyes wandered over the two of you again, so unbelievably baffled by the fact that he had a wife and kid to come home to now.

“Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled against your forehead before placing a chaste kiss on the two of you again. He took no time taking off his clothes and hopping into the shower, all that dirt and grime that had been stuck in his hair streaking down into the drain. No wonder he had smelled like shit.

He dressed in his boxers and sweatpants, drying out his hair as much as he could before coming out of the bathroom. Grant couldn’t sleep without a nightlight, so he didn’t have to wait for his eyes to adjust to look at the two of you again. He swore his heart would never stop melting at the sight of you and his son. It was a miracle that he still had trouble believing in.

But he knew how to ground himself to reality now. He carefully moved all the pillows away from you, checking the clock just before climbing into the bed. It was already 6:30am and he was sure he was going to get just a blink of sleep before Grant decided it was time to wake up. He was always a morning bird.

Just as Bucky fell asleep, Grant yelled, “Hey, wake up! Mommy, wake up!” He shook you, which indirectly shook Bucky awake too. “Daddy’s home! Daddy’s home!” He crawled over you and fell onto Bucky’s side before Bucky could move to lay on his back.

“Hey, buddy,” Bucky replied with as much energy as he could possibly muster after half an hour of sleep. But, with the way Grant was grinning and looking down at Bucky, with his blue eyes sparkling, Bucky couldn’t have imagined a better way to wake up.

He turned his head slightly to see you smiling up at him from where you rested your head on his shoulder.

Well, he could think of a few other ways.

#flufftober 2023 #day 19 #prompt 29 #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #bucky barnes x reader #late submission #marvel #mcu x reader #mcu x y/n #marvel mcu #mcu x you #bucky barnes x y/n #avenger x reader #bucky barnes x you #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes #james barnes x reader #james barnes x y/n #james bucky barnes #james barnes x you #james barnes #x reader #x y/n #x you #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes

[grimoireofhayley]

Of Friends and Horror

Stu Macher x Fem!Reader x Billy Loomis

WARNINGS: Graphic content, eventual Smut (MINORS DNI), Language, Talks of SA, Cheating, Obsessiveness, Gore, 18+ Content, Stalking, Possessiveness, Dirty talk

Word Count: 1.3k

Tag List: @ev3ningrain @nerdytif @fanfic-enjoyer123

All chapter links! 👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻

OF&H Masterlist

Chapter 4

“Hold on a minute, Sid..” Billy tossed his sweater to the side, removing it from his lap, standing up.

“Why were you at her house?” Sidney fumed, stomping her feet. “Usually, I wouldn’t have a problem with it, but you lied to me, Billy. Why couldn’t you have just been honest from the get-go?” She tapped her sneaker-covered foot off the ground, waiting for an answer from her boyfriend.

“I--I don’t know, I mean, I figured you’d react like this if I did tell you…” He expressed.

You ‘tsk’d’, standing up. “Sid, it isn’t a big deal, he was coming to me for advic--” You began, but was quickly shh’d by your not-so-close friend, Sidney.

“You.. You have no room to talk.” She screeched, her cheeks flaring, as she began to dig out of her bag, taking out a red leather journal, labeled, ‘(Y/n) <3’ with a black heart stitched into the cover. “You were seeing Steve behind Brooke’s back, you slept with him on her birthday of all days.. And you kept going back for more! How do I know you and Billy weren’t doing the same?”

Your eyes widened, ‘Of course… That’s how she knew about you ‘dating’ Steve.’

“It’s.. It’s not like that with Billy!” You yelled, tears threatening to spill and Sidney whipped your journal at your chest before it fell to the ground with a thud.

“Of course it isn’t.. Why would he want someone like you, anyways?” She snarled.

You ignored her harsh words, but you couldn’t help but agree with her, why would he want someone like you anyways?

“Wh-Where did you even get this?” You stuttered, hurt engulfing your voice. “Why would you even read it?” You sniffled. “This shit is personal…” At this rate, tears were streaming down your face, you were a hot-agitated mess.

“You left it in English, you’re lucky I was the one who found it and not Brooke..” She groaned, narrowing her brows, “I wasn’t planning on reading it, but I was curious… It’s a good thing I did though…” She snipped, folding her arms over one another, “You’re such a whore, you know that?” Venom laced her words, you can tell she was holding that in for a while.

“C’mon, Sidney, don’t be like that.” Stu spoke, trying to break the catfight, though he was secretly enjoying it. He placed a hand on Tatum’s shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze, hinting for her to get up in there, hoping that some sick-and-twisted porno would break out; having you be the main girl he’d watch.

Something about you being all flustered and crying had his head elsewhere, he couldn’t help but think how your pretty-little face would look in all sorts of positions. Whether it be your face pressed into a pillow, or his hand wrapped around your neck, limiting your oxygen. How you’d most likely cry and scream because everything felt so good, how dumbified you’d be after he was finished with you.

You’d be a sopping-sputtering mess.

Stu quickly placed his hand on his crotch, feeling his jeans tightening around his bulge.

“Fuck…” He mumbled, hoping no one heard as he slyly adjusted himself so no one saw his erection.

“This is my cue to leave…” Randy laughed awkwardly, looking at the fight that’s breaking out in front of him, this caused Stu to fixate his thoughts on something else.

Stu looked at Randy as his classmate started to head towards the school. Stu prayed that his buddy didn’t see the position that he was in.

“Mine, too…” Tatum mumbled, gripping onto Stu’s arm, “Let’s go, Babe…”

Stu nodded, “Uh, yeah, yeah, let’s go.”

You angrily waved bye to your three friends, knowing very well that your argument was making them uncomfortable.

You looked at Sidney, your personality switching from crybaby to angry.

Billy glanced at the two of you, watching the scene unfold, he didn’t like how Sidney was treating you; he hated it per say, but he couldn’t do much about it, not yet at least…

“If you cared to even read it all since you already started, it would’ve said that Billy came over for advice, to see why you wouldn’t touch him, Sidney, he loves you and he came to his closest friend asking for help with what to do.” You heaved, “But no, you read the worst pages I’ve written about myself. Why start snooping if you weren’t going to finish it at all?” You spat, bending over to pick up your journal. “I regret what I did behind Brooke’s back, this is something I have to deal with for the rest of my life, and you know what? I can live with that.” Sidney grimaced at the tone of your voice, “If anyone’s a whore, though, look at what your mother did.” Her eyes widened at the sudden insult, “She had her legs open for every married man in town, and look where it got her…” You started to breathe heavily, “It got her killed.” You snickered, wiping your eyes, freeing them from any tears. You were pleased with what you said, “I am a saint compared to what she did.” You hugged your journal close, “Maybe if you weren’t such a prude, he wouldn’t be sneaking into another girls’ window!”

“You..You, bitch!” Sidney screamed, tears running down her own face. She went to slap you, but Billy caught her wrist. He didn’t say anything, but nodded at you.

Sidney whined, clenching her fist, ripping her arm away from Billy, and stormed off, not looking back.

Billy walked towards you, leaning into your ear, “Was that necessary?” He chortled, taking light in the situation.

The deepness of his voice sent shivers down your spine and coated your arms in goosebumps. Your breath hitched as you gulped down the ball that seemed to form in your throat. The hair on your arms stood as he slowly trailed his index finger up and down your arm, his touch was warm, but oddly cold, he enjoyed seeing you tremble at the slightest touch he’d give. Of course he knew about your ‘little’ crush on him, Sidney wasn’t the only one who read that journal, but him, too. Though, she didn’t read as far as he did. Thankfully because that would’ve ruined the plan.

He knew about Steve as well, why do you think he had killed him? He killed him for you, but do you need to know it, right away? No, definitely not. That’s set for a later date. He and Stu also killed Casey for you, they didn’t like how she was treating you during school, they had to end it together. However, neither of them knew that the other had feelings for you at the same time, that their motivation to end their late classmates' lives was because of you.

As far as they both know, they killed Casey for tormenting you, but also because Stu held a grudge against her. They killed Steve because he was taking advantage of you, but was also a bystander. He was able to fuck you senseless during the late hours of the night, but didn’t have the balls to step in when his girlfriend was being a douche? That didn’t sit well with either of them, plus, they were jealous Steve had you first.

He looked over your face, loving how sun-kissed your skin was. His breath lingered on the slope of your neck as he twirled a strand of your (H/c) hair.

It earned him a slight whimper from you, quickly making you blush.

“I’ll see you in class, okay?” He smiled, his pearly whites glinting. He enjoyed seeing you like this, he might just pay you a visit tonight.

You bit your lip, nodding. “Uh-huh…”

<- Previous Next ->

#fanfiction #billy loomis x female reader #ghostface x female reader #stu macher x female reader #Stu Macher #Billy loomis #scream franchise #stu x reader #billy x you x stu #billy x you #billy x stu #scream 1996 #billy x reader #billy loomis smut #Stu Macher smut #billy loomis x reader #stu matcher x reader #ghostface #scream x reader #Stu imagine #billy imagine

[thereadinggremlin]

Guarded Hearts pt 3

Summary: You find out Azriels your mate but you start getting the could shoulder from him after he returns from a mission.

Authors Note- Ok. I did it. Finally finished my first ACOTAR fanfic. I have ideas for more but if anyone has some send them my way. Anyways. Enjoy

As the shadow dissapeared and you heard Rhys’s voice you knew you were out of time. You started to grab your stuff for a quick getaway, not that you could winnow but you could fly pretty fast. Figuring he’d be there any minute you decided that leaving out the back door would give you a few minute head start. That idea was shattered as he showed up less than 30 feet away from you, for a moment you just stood there looking at him and then you shot to the skies, your stuff be damned.

You had some idea of where you were going but what you really needed was to just get away from him. Everything you were feeling was too much. Why would he send his shadows after you, he didn’t care, he made that evident in the way that he has ignored you for the last month. You had been up here for awhile before he probably even realized that you weren’t around.

You spent one spare second to look behind you and there he was hot on your heels and trying to catch up to you and then you felt a tug. You didn’t know your sheilds were down for that long unless…

You shit straight up knowing he would follow, you stopped and waited, as he appeared tou yelled to him “How long?” The hot tears pooling in your eyes.

He just stared at you, not saying anything, when you focused on the bond you felt a mix of sadness and happiness and knew that these were not your feelings.

“I will let you know when I’m ready, if you ask anyone or send your shadows after me, you will regret it.” You said as you flew away and left him there in the cold air with nothing but the feeling of betrayal and hurt coursing through the bond.

He didn’t know what to do. After you left he returned to the cabin and looked around, your books and other belongings still scattered all over the place. He started gathering all of them up to take them back home, he knew you wouldn’t return here since he found you but he did think that having them in your room at the house of wind would be better.

In your collection of books he found a notebook, it seemed like a journal or diary and it seemed you had started it just before you apparently left home. He dropped onto the couch to start reading and he closed off the bond again, he didn't want you to know he was snooping and he was too scared that if he didn’t guard himself all his feelings would go down the bond to you.

As he started to read, his heart fell into his stomach. He didn’t realize that his actions had hurt you so much, he thought he was protecting you. He didn’t want to rush you into the bond but apparently all he did was push you away.

He got halfway through the notebook when he saw one of your few entries since you arrived at the cabin

“Ive been at the cabin for a while and everyone’s left me alone, which is good, but I can’t help to think of Azriel has noticed if I left or not. Regardless of how he’s treated me recently I still love him, I can’t help but love him and right now, I don’t know if I like how I feel about it. I know he’s my mate but I can’t keep taking the heartbreak.”

He dropped the notebook. You knew. You knew and you never told him. He couldn’t get mad because he had known for a long time too. He was cursing himself from guarding the bond for so long, he could have avoided this whole thing if he just stopped to talk to you. He picked up all of your stuff and returned to the house of wind, he needed to make a plan and try to get you to forgive him.

You flew until your wings ached, the lake you always loved was quiet and serene. You always came here when you needed to think it was a secret spot only you and one other knew of. You didn’t get much time to yourself before he showed up.

“So you wanna talk about it?” Cassian drawled out.

“Is there really any point” you stated flatly “And how did you know if even be here?”

“Well I was around when Azriel was questioning Rhys and when he left I knew if he found you this would be the place you’d escape to” he gave you a small smile “I’m surprised that you beat me here honestly, I thought you forgot about this place.”

“I could never. This place is so peaceful, I just haven’t had the time to fly out” you said with a sad smile. After bad missions you and Cassian would come here to let the steam out, fight, cry, or just sit there quiet. After he found out Nesta was his mate the two of you sat here on the waters edge for hours while he just sat there and thought about her.

“You know he loves you” Cassian said taking you out of your memories. Startled you just stared at him “yeah I figured you didn’t know, he’s loved you for a long time”

“He’s my mate.”

“I know.” She looked at him, surprise cascading across her face.

“How did you know?”

“I’ve known since it snapped in place for him. I picked up on the little changes and all the glances he passed your way. Dudes whipped.”

You were baffled. Azriel felt the same and knows of the bond. So many emotions were coursing through you and your one thought was to tug on that string of warmth that you’ve felt in your chest. When you tugged on the bond, you were created with nothing but cold and darkness.

“What if I messed it all up?” You ask your friend.

“I can guarantee that you didnt. Rhys has been threatening me to come back and get that man under control because he’s acting strange and his shadows are no where to be found.” He paused as he looked at you “Leta go home, you don’t have to talk to him about everything today but at least try to slowly let him in.”

All you responded with was a nod of your head. You didn’t know what you’d do but you decided that you’ll find out once you see him in person.

The flight back to the house of wind was a quiet one, you and Cassian landed in the balcony outside of the dinning room thinking nothing much would be going on. As you both started to walk in you noticed that all your favorite flowers were delicately decorating the dinning room, it wasn’t too much but there were little touches here and there. You froze as you hear the familiar footfall of a certain shadow singer, they stopped abruptly so you know he noticed you.

Before either of you could say a thing Cassian cleared his throat “So are you just gonna stare at each other or……”

“You better leave them alone or I’m gonna beat your ass during training tomorrow” you heard Nesta yell from the hallway. A small smile graced your face as Cassian shrugged and left the two of you.

“I’m sor-“

“I’m so sorry I have been an asshole that was never my intention, I don’t want to push you away” Azriel blurted cutting you off. “I didn’t want to pressure you into anything and I wanted you to make your own decisions, you’ve turned into such a strong female that I never wanted to dim that or make you feel less because I think you deserve the world”

He was talking so fast it took a minute for your brain to catch on to what he was saying. He’s noticed everything and remembered it, and liked you more because of what you accomplished.

“Take your shield off of the bond.” You stated flatly. You needed to know if what he was saying truly matched how he felt. “Take your shield off and then we can discuss it all.”

Within an instant you felt everything; love, worry, agony, hopefulness. He truly wanted this life with you. As you looked into his eyes they matched all the feelings you were feeling down the bond.

You slowly started approaching him, staying slow as to not scare him but he still stiffened his back not knowing what you were going to do. You stood right in front of him looking up at his eyes and feeling his breath mingle with yours, you were both breathing heavy with anticipation. You leaned up and kissed him on his cheek.

“There’s a lot we need to talk about” his eyes sank a little as you spoke “but I really want to figure this out with you. Just don’t keep anything hidden from me, you know you can just talk to me.” You finished with a smile on your face.

Azriel smiled instantly at your words and before you could process it he picked you up and spun you around. As he was holding you he leaned in and kissed you. You were very surprised at the immediate affection from him but you weren’t gonna fight it because you had been dreaming of this day since you met him.

As he set you down he pulled back and was about to apologize but then he noticed the blush on your cheeks that spread to your ears. “We can talk about everything and anything you want.” He said instead

“Oh really? Then how about you tell me how it went back at the camp I grew up in when you were there to settle things.” You asked with a mischievous look in your eyes.

“Ok anything but that” Azriel responded with a chuckle, and it was the most beautiful sound you ever heard.

Maybe you two could get over this and have a beautiful life together and by the cauldron you sure hoped so.

Tag list: @crazylokonugget @kalulakunundrum @mp-littlebit @hnyclover @nickishadow139 @isa1b2h3

#fanfic #azriel #azriel x reader #acotar #angst with a happy ending #azriel angst #first fic done

[notroosterbradshaw]

slow dancing in a burning room - six

word count: 5.5k

warnings: nsfw 18+, smut, language, angst.

part of: The Boyfriend Experience universe

a/n: well, they're broken. it's unceremonious and it's real and they're hurting so deeply, coping in ways only they know... the wrong way. You're here to meet Bad Choice Bradley, I presume? I hope you enjoy it. thanks to those who read, reblogged and commented on previous chapters. you’re doing god’s work. I truly appreciate all the effort you make to show your support and if you like it… please comment and reblog it! x

five.two

“Rooster,” Annie smiled before him, Ava strapped to her chest in her baby carrier sleeping peacefully.

Bradley felt his poor, old heart sink because he’d done so well to now avoiding you and your family since everything blew the fuck up in your relationship. It was a small town and the more you tried to avoid someone, the more likely they were to cross your path. “Ann,” he gave a slight smile. “How you doin'?”

“Morning coffee brings me back to life after a rough night,” she reported. “Not on base today? Look at the beard,” you said, fondly as he realised Annie didn't have a clue. 

“No,” he bit back the sour taste in his mouth. Obviously you’d not told your family about his pending trial… and in a way, he guessed he was thankful. It probably brought a certain amount of embarrassment to you, if he thought about it truthfully, given Viper and the respect he still commanded at work and from the locals. You didn’t need his bullshit on your shoulders. "Few more weeks to myself. Just finished my run,” he said even though it appeared the most obvious thing in the world. Shorts, runners, Navy tank glued to him, sweating from top to toe from morning humidity.

He just wanted to get his coffee and head home to shower. He should have just forgone the fucking caffeine. He had a perfectly good coffee machine at home for Christ’s sake. He cursed the fact you introduced him to this coffee shop and he knew, eventually he’d see you here, but he’d been so smart. He knew your work schedule and now, he was always the first in line when he knew your first classes for the day were clocking over. He was no dummy - sure, he had his moments when his head was stuck up his ass, but caffeine was his drug of choice and after you’d secretly revealed to him the best in the town and he was addicted.  “Lucky. You just missed her…” Annie told him softly, nodding off in the direction towards work... his villa was in the opposite direction and taunting him and his poor choices.

He hummed, unreadable. “Did I?”  He was pleased with the relief that washed over him. It was such a non-committal response and he knew he owed Annie so much better. Annie wasn't the cause of his recurring cycle of problems. But shit, he was so good at making his problems... everyone’s.

“Loves her morning coffee,” Annie waved her reusable cup towards him, and gee, it was so awkward. Rooster nodded, pleased that he wasn’t the only uncomfortable one in this conversation. Even Annie, usually outgoing, funny Annie, seemed completely out of character with her current word vomit.

And though he was desperate to, he would not ask after you because he knew there was no way you could feel as awful as he did but he forced it out anyway. “How is she, Annie?” he tried to hide the sadness in his voice, but it was impossible. He was so desperate to catch even the slightest whisper about you - whether it was Annie, Phoenix or any other mutual acquaintances. The radio silence was quietly killing him.

After a beat, Annie replied warily, “A wreck. Not that she’d ever let us know. We’re not seeing hell a lot of her so that kind of speaks for itself, I guess. Or it's exactly what she wants, I don't know," she rambled because Bradley could see Annie didn't know what to do to help you, and that hurt him more. The frustration in the air was paramount. The people you were once closest to now the one furthest at arm's length and he knew that was because of him.

“Right,” he replied, forcing a lack of interest in his voice. He didn’t want to sound emotional that you were upset, but he certainly didn’t want to feel sad for you for the decision that you made. Bradley needed you to know that you were feeling the way you were feeling for what you decided to drag you both through. He wanted to work things out, he didn't want either of you to be hurting like this - “Sorry to hear that.” He shrugged, knowing how cold it sounded and the surprise on Annie's face telling the story. What the fuck else was he supposed to say?

All the texts he'd sent bounced, and he knew you'd blocked him - what was the use of calling? He considered sending flowers, champagne, fucking skywrite if it got your attention, but all his desperate ways for your attention would fall on deaf ears. And as desperate as he was to go to you, knock on your door and hold you until reason came back into that smart brain of yours, he knew for now, you simply needed your time. He just hoped it wasn't forever.

“So... how are you?” Annie asked, welcomingly changing the subject.

He shrugged, sipping his coffee. He didn't feel like admitting he was about to head home, shower and see his JAG. It just didn't feel like it could roll off his tongue properly without the rest of his life crashing around him. He’d been so good to protect his façade and damn, he lied so easily. It was his most hated personality trait and he wished he could stop it, but sometimes it was just easier. “PT,” he lied, but he knew fully well Annie didn’t care for his physical recovery - she had good intentions but he knew she wanted to pry into his convoluted, messed up brain, see if he was as tragically missing her sister, if he was as tormented as you were. 

Dissect and get into the deepest, darkest crevices. 

But Bradley would never tell. There were enough people trying to get in there as it was. And right now he wasn’t going to give anyone the benefit of that bullshit. That hurt stayed with him, no matter the cost. It motivated him, got him through the day to be better, stronger, harder and he wasn't letting his guard down for anyone, not Annie, not Phoenix, not Mav.

Not you. No one.

“That’s fantastic,” she said as Ava wriggled against her, waking. “I’m glad for you, Rooster,” Annie bobbed to settle the little one, whining and probably ready for her morning feed. "You need your head in the clouds."

If that ever happened again.

“She got big,” Rooster said, keenly changing the subject and turning his attention to Ava. He reached for her her little hand and Ava wrapped her chubby little palm against his pointer. Bradley knew even if kids weren't in his future, the future he had quietly hoped to share with you, this was a cute kid and it only reminded him of you when you were playing World’s Greatest Aunty and putting the idea in his head that maybe… yeah, he could get the family he always wanted with you. It was going to take more to desensitise himself, he realised. 

“They do that,” Annie said, with a gentle smile. “Way too quickly. I feel like she's minutes away from rolling, crawling, and then up and walking out to college."

And Rooster laughed, because there was Annie, the Annie he grew up with. They both needed that little break in the terse. "I hope not that fast," he gently pressed a kiss on Ava's knuckles and loosened his finger, free again.

"Well, I’d better get her home for some food and start our day. Good to see you, Rooster,” she gave him a small smile. “If you need anything, call me, okay? Don’t be a stranger.”

Bradley did the cordial thing and nodded. “Will do. See ya around, Annie," he said, not waiting for a dragged out goodbye and heading in the other direction. He had a house to start bringing back to life even if he had fallen apart in every other way.

It had been about month since you and Bradley… yeah. Since then. Things had been fairly busy for you, you’d stayed to yourself, regardless of nagging from your family, some other friends who wanted to claim your time now you were single again and, of course, Natasha. She was shipping out in a few days and wanted to have a drink but the last place you’d be caught dead at was The fucking Hard Deck. Reassuring everyone you were good, or okay, was next to useless. No one believed you anyway.  

You'd kept yourself busy. The apartment needed to be unpacked again, with no time like the present, a perfect time to purge and it felt so much better in your small part of the world that you’d rid yourself of those little things you simply didn’t need anymore. Clothes, kitchenwares, changed up the orientation of the bedroom, indulging and confusing yourself with feng shui and vastu shastra on household karma/good vibes among other things. 

But you really did feel lighter. You built a cute study nook for your business stuff. You and Bradley had planned to use one of the rooms in the Bradshaw place, giving you more time to work from home, instead of staying later after classes to do your never-ending small business accounting.

But that wasn’t the case now and you had all the time in the world.

“Fuck, Nat. Stop,” you muttered to yourself, scarfing down some leftovers for dinner. It was late and frankly, you had little to no interest in heading out, even if it was to a venue of your choice. You had to give Natasha credit: she was trying so hard to release you from your self-imposed imprisonment. You know what you were up for - 20 questions about how you were coping. You'd be lying to say you weren't worried about his impending trial and were curious to reach out. But it probably would just distract him and he didn’t need that. You were sure it was this week or next. 

Maybe you would get Grandpa to contact Bradley? 

But as far as you were concerned, Bradley seemed to be doing just fine. Like you’d agreed, you didn’t need each other anyway. Besides, he hadn't contacted you - and you hadn't let him after yep, taking the high road and blocking him. Maybe he needed this more than you did, you tried to reason with yourself. A guy like him didn't deserve to be tied down with someone who had the baggage you did. He deserved better. 

You tossed your fork on the plate, suddenly not hungry for the stir fry you were desperate for only minutes earlier although the need to get tiddly didn't sound terrible at all.

Enjoying his quiet drink, Rooster knew his time was running out as Phoenix sidled her way to him, a fair smile on her face. Unreadable, and God, he hated that. “Didn’t know you were coming out tonight,” she commented, as she put two beers on Payback’s tab, placing one before Bradley. 

She followed his gaze to the pretty woman across the bar, making pathetic doe eyes and suggestive overtones with her beer bottle and tongue. Natasha would never get used to it. And sadly, Rooster seemed pretty into it, for what she could gather. “Know her?” Phoenix asked as Rooster’s lip quirked and he stumbled to find an undefined answer.

Truth be told, yeah. Rooster did know her. Not super well, but well enough to remember how into him she seemed as she led him back to her place last week, the first person he’d fucked since… and, he supposed, it was fine. It was good, she was eager to please and she had zeroed in on him the minute he walked in last week and again tonight. Rooster didn’t generally put his boots under the same bed twice, but he lately wasn’t feeling particularly fussy. He did ask himself if there was a supposed grieving period for how long he should probably wait before getting into the game again but his brain (and Hangman) told him what he needed to hear.

Fuck her. 

“Oh, Rooster, no. You slept with her?” Natasha asked, the disappointment dripped from her voice and Bradley felt about three feet tall.

“Oh, fuck this,” he bemoaned. “She broke up with me, I have to be celibate too?” he asked. It seemed so rehearsed and he didn't lie but he knew the shit he was going to cop for spending time with any woman that wasn’t you. 

Natasha sighed. “No, I guess not.” 

“Believe it or not, I can fuck who and when I want, Phoenix,” he gruffly reminded her. "You don't get to dictate."

“No, you’re right,” she agreed. Who was she to argue? She was desperate for her friends to get over this little ‘blip’, but seeing you separately and the hurt you’d both caused each other, she began to wonder if this blip as she'd hopefully referred to is as was really the end of what could have been the best thing that happened to both of you. 

You were no longer a couple. Rooster had moved into his parents' old place alone and seemed to be enjoying taking to it with a sledgehammer. You were doing your usual MO when things went sour – you didn’t answer calls, and rarely responded to texts before anyway. You were working and looking at growing the business, so it was the best excuse in the books not to come to the bar, a surefire way of making sure she didn’t pump into Bradley.

“I can’t see him, Nat. He was the love of my life. And not being able to touch him, kiss him, laugh with him? It would just kill me,” you had told her sadly, week’s earlier when Natasha came over unannounced and sporting Thai food and rosé. 

“What is so fucking funny is that I keep hearing how badly she is doing, yet no one gives a flying fuck that maybe, just maybe, I’m going through it too," Bradley muttered, Natasha surprise crossing her face as he continued, "Nat, we were moving in together. But it’s over now,” he poured what was left of his beer down his throat, knowing that coming out tonight was not his wisest idea. Bad Choice Bradley was bubbling in his bloodstream and frankly, he didn't mind if he escaped. He was so sick of doing everything by the rules, but where had that gotten him? Absolutely no-fucking-where. Jobless and Loveless. “And for the record?” he hissed purposefully to Natasha. “I was in that fuckin’ relationship too. I didn't call time.” 

“Okay, okay,” she said softly. “I’m sorry. You’re right. You’re wholeheartedly allowed to feel that way. We just don’t see you… as down about it,” she used her words carefully.

“It was weeks ago,” he sniped.

“It wasn’t that long - ”

“Jesus, Phoenix. She was the fucking love of my life,” he hissed. "I wanted to work this out. She blocked my number, she wants nothing to do with me."

Natasha held her palm towards his chest but didn’t dare touch him, she could feel the heat, the anger reverberating off him. “Okay, I agree. I’m sorry, I know you’re hurting, buddy. And I’ve let you down.”

He frowned and paused. “What are you talking about?” 

“This isn’t just the breakup, Rooster,” Natasha said, adjusting her posture to stand with him and continuing before she could let up. “Everything has been a bit of a shitstorm. Your past is always following you around, you were part of a suicide mission that almost got you killed and now you’re waiting for trial and I should have been doing more to make sure you were okay with that."

And for the moment, Bradley was silenced and frown in reply.

"Are you still seeing the shrink?”

He huffed out a breath, replacing his beer eagerly with the one Natasha had slid towards him. He didn’t need this holier-than-thou bullshit where Natasha got to try and save him to be really honest. He just gazed back at her, now unreadable. 

“Isn’t it mandatory?” she pressed lightly. “You should really be talking to someone – ”

“I’m still going, I’m hating it. If I don’t get clearance from the shrink, I never get in my jet again regardless of how the trial plays itself out. Satisfied?” he rolled his eyes. “See ya later, Phoenix,” he said, leaving his her side and heading over to his new friend, who greeted him with a tender kiss on the side of his mouth, and while he wasn’t repulsed, you used to do that to him, and he didn’t like it half as much as he used to.

“Didn’t think you were going to come over and say hi, Rooster.”

“I’m here with friends,” he admitted, whom he’s just ditched to come over here and line up an easy lay for the night. 

“You wanna dance?”

He nodded, a small grin gracing his features that didn’t quite make it to his eyes. “Yeah, lemme hit the bathroom first really quick, okay?” 

“Sure,” she smiled as he grasped her forearm, gave the easy smoulder and disappeared. And she, with the name he couldn’t recall (but really wanted to), devotedly followed moments later. Messy, unplanned bar head wasn’t on his bingo card for the night, but he’d surely take it. He tried to be surprised when she cornered him into the stall and undid the few top buttons on her shirt, her breasts brushing against his chest as she groped his half-hard cock and played with the zip on his jeans before letting her soft, warm palm slide beneath his boxer briefs. His breathing immediately shallow because her hand was better than his hand and she sank to her knees and licked her lips, she didn't give an ounce of hesitation to take him deep.

He guessed he never really had to work hard to get what he wanted. 

And he couldn’t hate himself more for it, because he compared everything to you. The way your big, beautiful eyes would peer up at him, begging for reassurance you were pleasing him, giving everything he deserved and more, your delicate strands he’d mess his long fingers into… it wasn’t the same but he came deep in the back of her throat that she swallowed and tidied up devoutly and he kind of wanted to be sick. But as she did that thing with her tongue, he wanted to cum so badly, as she gripped his thighs to keep her balance, he regarded her, knowing this wasn’t a woman he could fall in love with. He would only ever love one woman and right now, she wanted nothing to do with him. 

He shook the notion from his head, concentrating on how silky her tongue caressed the head of his cock and remembered this didn’t happen all the time and to enjoy it as he thrust into her face, closing his eyes and imagining you again, getting him over the line as he knotted his fingers in her hair and fucked her face. Seeing you and those pretty sounds you’d make gagging on his cock, deep as you possibly could and what you couldn’t, pumping in your delicate palms. 

He grunted as he came in wild spurts down her throat until he was spent and watched as she tidied him up, sweetly placing his softening dick back in his boxers and pulling his jeans back into place, sweetly caressing his throbbing groin. 

With a quiet laugh, he helped her to her feet, cupping her chin a little rough. "You didn't need to do that, you know?"

"No," she agreed. "But you tasted so good time, I couldn't wait for more."

Bradley blushed, mostly ashamed. He certainly had nothing to be proud about. “I’ll be right out…” he said to her and she nodded and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her lipstick was improper, her hair was well and truly a mess. Just how he liked it… if it was you. And he knew she would run out to tell her friends exactly what had happened, darting out alone.

Rooster looked at himself in the mirror, taking in his reflection and rubbed his tired face. “Who the fuck are you, Bradshaw?” he accused himself. He took a deep breath, ran his hands under the cool water, washed his palms then splashed some water on his flushed face. “Jesus,” he muttered to himself before inhaling sharply and straightening up. 

“Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck,” Natasha muttered to herself as Bob caught wind of her strife and looked up from his peanuts, concerned for his friend. "Fuckkk."

“What’s up, partner?” he asked, perplexed. She lifted her phone and the text you’d just sent. “Oh,” Bob said, adjusting his glasses, a trait he did constantly as he grew nervous. “That is… that is not good.” 

“No…” Natasha agreed, casting her gaze to find Rooster, but he was nowhere to be found. “Shit.” 

Rooster had spotted his new friend with her group and gave a slight nudge towards the exit when she caught his eye. Excitedly, she gave a wink back as her friends gave her teasing words of encouragement but Rooster didn’t care. He just needed to get out of there. 

The bar was stifling and he didn’t feel like Phoenix’s third degree on his life choices anymore. He wasn’t a dickhead – he was well aware he was making poor decisions. Bad Choice Bradley. But this wasn’t his first one lately, and it certainly wouldn’t be his last.

Darting through the throng of officers and civilians, he made a beeline for the door, thrusting it open, and he’d be lying to say in his frustration, there was some heat and malice behind it.

“Jesus, goddammit,” the voice hissed on the other side, the heavy door hitting a patron on the other side trying to enter. Rooster tried to catch them, almost knocking them to the ground in the process and he couldn't believe his dumb luck that it was you who were on the other side as he tried to phantom his escape. You skipped backwards quickly as Rooster yanked the door back, trying to stop its force. His face paled when he realised just who it was he’d almost knocked off their feet.

He whispered your name, and you’d swear you had seen a ghost. “Shit, I’m so fuckin' sorry," he said, the recognition all over his face as he took you in, scared and studying you.

"Shit," you muttered. Bradley could hear the pain in your voice, whether it was through injury or just disgruntled, he couldn't be sure. “Hey,” you said nervously. This was not how you wanted to see him for the first time since you’d broken up. 

“I was just leaving,” he explained, reminding you the door had walloped you in the elbow and you rubbed it in recollection, a gentle thrum from its impact. He looked back over his shoulder. “Shit, I’m so sorry,” he said again. He so badly wanted to reach out and kiss your injury better. The injury he caused, and he loathed himself for it. “How bad I get you?” he asked softly, taking a step closer. 

Before he got closer, you closed in on yourself and covered the sting in your elbow with a step or two. “It’s fine, Brad – Rooster. It’s no worries,” you reassured him, flippantly. Your body language told him everything he needed to know. He was flatlining. 

He nodded slowly, saddened at how you recoiled from him. "You sure?"

"Yeah. I'm sure."

“Okay. Sorry, huh?” 

“It’s fine really,” you said as a pretty young thing wandered out. She joined Bradley on his hip and you didn’t miss how her hand curved into his elbow and how his face changed, the guilt masking his handsome features. She looked back at you both expectedly. 

“Ready to go, Rooster?” she asked as he paused, gauging your response. He knew his timing was about as bad as it could be. 

And yep, it looked exactly as it looked. 

“Yeah. I’ll be just a minute,” he said, the embarrassment etched all over his skin as he ripped out your heart and toyed with it in his beautiful hands before you. His ears reddened and he licked his lips as she wandered away, calling back over her shoulder when she’d reached his Bronco. Well, she knew his car, maybe this wasn’t as new as it looked. 

Yep, it looked exactly as it looked. 

You’d thank Natasha personally for the warning in a moment - she probably wouldn't like it though. “Friend of yours?” you figured trying to balance your tone. Who were you to get upset at him? To Bradley Bradshaw, you were no one and that was what hurt the most.

“Something like that,” he admitted quietly. 

Maybe you didn’t need that drink Nat promised. You needed Penny to drown you in the top shelf. “Nat’s waiting for me,” you explained to him. “Have a good night, Rooster,” you told him as he reluctantly pulled the door open for you to scurry under his strong, golden arm and get lost in the Friday night throng. He watched after you until he lost you.

Rooster ran his clammy palm over his face, he felt ill as he stepped away from the door. He wanted to be sick, he knew exactly how pathetic he looked. Why the fuck didn’t Natasha tell him you were coming? He would have hauled ass ages ago and without incident. He pulled his phone out and threw a brutal one-liner at her about giving him a head’s up next time and made his way to his car, where his friend/date/hook up/whoever was waiting with a bright grin. 

“Thought you were gonna ditch me,” she laughed lightly, he could hear the uncertainty in her voice. 

“Look, I’m really sorry, but I’m not feeling too well right now, and I have a real early start tomorrow morning. Think we could take a rain check?” he asked, keeping a safe distance from her. She raised an eyebrow.

“You sure? Five minutes ago, you seemed really fucking into that blowjob in the bathroom,” she hissed at hime. And it was fine head, her lipstick was still smudged on his cock, he would always be appreciative of anyone giving him their best. But again, it wasn’t your pretty lips, nose desperately trying to nuzzle the soft hair at his happy trail, staring up at him like he possessed all the stars in the sky. God, he was truly beginning to hate himself and he missed your mouth, however smart it was, wrapped around his cock, giving him an earful... kissing him.

He shook his head dismally. “Look, I can’t do this, okay? M’sorry,” he unlocked the car, hopped into the driver’s seat and keyed the ignition, peeling out of the carpark to the allotment of insults and birds being hurled his way. It would be some time before he decided to venture back to The Hard Deck, which was probably best.

And deservingly so, he reminded himself. He'd take a few weeks off from the bar, he’d been through this before. Never go back to the scene of the crime, especially after one-night stands. He knew better, but it all seemed so easy tonight until you were before him and ruined everything. 

He pulled into a car park, the ocean bustling before him and he sat for a moment, his palms latched onto the steering wheel, his knuckles white as the adrenaline of the night coursed through his veins. Taught and teetering, he stared out to the ocean, needing answers to all the questions in his messed up brain.

God, you looked so beautiful. You had done something different to your hair, not a lot, just subtle, but he noticed it, the scent of his favourite perfume, it was so ridiculously expensive but it was the only real fancy thing you afforded yourself even if you used it sparingly, that drifted off you and enveloped him. He remembered it on his pillows, it lasted for the week until the sheets were changed. 

But your eyes… They told the story. Seeing each other was a shock to the system, but you just looked so upset when… fuck, whatever her name was made her presence known. Getting his phone from his pocket, he sighed and found your last texts to each other. 

It was all so sweet. 

You: I love you, big boy. Hurry home to me xxx

Bradley: Love you too. Lemme finish up and I’ll be right there x 

He ignored the subsequent texts he tried to send that all bounced back. Now it all seemed like another world and another time.

“So, yeah, that was fun,” you told Natasha as she gave Penny the signal to keep lining the shots up. 

“You okay, darlin’ heart?” Penny asked sadly. Not that she wanted to pry, but Live had asked her to keep an eye on you if and when she could and she didn’t know if your mother was really wanting to see how brokenhearted you were.

“I’m awful,” you confided, voice strong but powerful because if you didn’t talk about this, you’d sink into another one of those solitary states where you wallowed in the misery of your broken heart, you were going to explode. “I have ruined the best thing that has happened to me then I get to see him take a one-night stand home.”

In no world would Natasha tell you this wasn’t their first hook-up and tossed back one of the lined up shots to avoid putting her foot in her mouth. “He’s slipped back into old habits,” Natasha shuddered as the tequila burned. She wasn’t defending him, but it was what it was as Penny made some polite excuses to continue working. “He a fucking moron, all dudes are the same. Easy pussy, get their dicks wet. They should all be lobotomised," she raised her shot and you, Natasha and Penny whipped the shots back.

But Rooster Bradshaw owed you absolutely nothing. And he proved he knew it too.

“He talked to me like a stranger. He’s never spoken to me like that in thirty years.”

“What do you mean?”

“Has he said he’s missed me or anything?” you asked, sadly and as Natasha prepared to answer, you dismally added, “I’ve ruined everything because I was scared about all the wrong things. Nat, I’ve messed this up and I don’t know what to do to fix it.”

She nodded but she heard what she heard. “…do you want to fix it?”

“I can’t function without him. I am just bumbling along, missing him while he is recovering alone. He's about to stand trial... he needs support,” and you know fully well that Natasha, Penny, Mav and others had Bradley's back but you also knew there were only a few people he'd truly let help him. “Will you still be here for the trial?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be here… I’m a witness. It’s the day after tomorrow.”

“Can you tell me how it goes?”

She nodded. “Of course.” 

“I can’t believe I gave all this up.”

She nodded. “I hate seeing you hurting like this.” Both of you, she wanted to add.

“Does he talk about me?” you asked quietly.

Phoenix sighed, she didn’t want to get into this. Anything he’d ever told her was done so in confidentiality. And while you were her great friend, he was too. Rooster didn't have many confidants. "I - "

“Natasha. Does Bradley want to fix us?” you raised your eyes, and Natasha saw the tears that threatened to spill. 

“I don’t know,” she admitted. Only hours before he was talking about his latest conquest. She saw that woman follow him into the bathrooms but she had no idea where her friend stood, even if she knew you two were so much better together. She could tell you how angry about it he was. But there was no way that was going to help the situation even if she was desperate to say or do anything that could possibly help.

You shrugged and took another shot. “Whatever, he’s clearly moved on and I will just have to accept that. Another round?" you asked, a casual frown gracing your features and Natasha nodded.

"One more," she loaded the bar up and couldn’t imagine being in her plane tomorrow if this was how the night was going to go. 

masterlist.

Big thanks as always to @gretagerwigsmuse for helping me get this fic over this line x

A/N: the tag list no longer exists. To keep up to date, give @notroosterbradshaw-library a follow x

#notroosterbradshaw #bad choice bradley #rooster #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #rooster fanfic #rooster imagine #top gun rooster #rooster bradshaw fic #rooster fluff #rooster smut #rooster top gun #rooster x you #tgm #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster angst #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster x female reader

[johnwickb1tsch]

Constantine x Reader x Wick Imagine

🗡️Ahhhhhhhgrgh OK SO you used to date John Constantine, but he pushed you away and broke your heart when you accidentally said the L word. You move to New York, and now you're with John Wick, who is ever so good to you, but you don't ask what he gets up to in the wee hours of the night or why he comes home with bruised knuckles. It's old hat to you, considering who you used to date. Constantine happens to know, however, that Wick is a demon half breed, and its driving him insane thinking about you with him. He found out from one of his less than savory contacts, and its been eating at him ever since.

He confronts you in Central park, where you like to go on your lunch breaks to read. "Nice, y/n. I turn my back for two seconds and you're fucking a demon." "First of all, fuck off, Constantine. Second, what the fuck are you talking about? Third, what the fuck are you doing in New York?” “Your little boyfriend’s boss Tarasov is cooking up something wicked. Something that’s going to harvest a LOT of souls for his master.” That would be Lucifer Himself, of course. You roll your eyes, even if in the very back back room of your head, you wonder if he’s telling the truth. Could John Wick be a demon? The sex was amazing, but that didn't necessarily mean he was the Devil's minion? You had noticed though, out the corner of your eye, that sometimes his pupils seemed to have a fiery glow. And sometimes, when he came home all sweaty and hadn't showered yet, you'd get a weird whiff of sulfur. You'd always shrugged it off, but... “Sure he is.” Seeing Constantine hurts like a knife between the ribs. You'd loved him so much, and he was such an asshole to you. The fact that he’s come all this way trying to warn you should not inspire this kind of warmth in your heart. “Just stay away from me, Constantine.”

😈Of course, he doesn’t. He never told you, but you're the only woman he's ever truly loved. You’re out with John Wick when Constantine strikes, trying to deport your [apparently?] demon boyfriend. Wick gets the drop on him though, and he’s about to finish the job before he hears you scream. He sees your face and knows it will hurt you irreparably if he kills Constantine. So he lets him go, throwing him across the darkened street into a building. You leave with Wick, and he takes you home. You have so many questions, but he refuses to answer them. He kisses you goodnight before he has to go out again, a sorrow in those soulful puppy dog eyes that breaks your heart. How is it possible that he’s a demon? He’s so good to you.

♥Little do you know, John Wick never really had a choice. He was damned for something he didn't really have control over, and working for the Devil is way better than seething in the Pit. He's good at what he does, but his heart's never really been in it. You're the best thing that's ever happened to him.

😇👹You were never really down with all this angels and demons shit. Constantine kept you insulated from it, and to be honest you're not really even a believer. It’s kind of why these guys are attracted to you, tbh. Being around you is like a little break from their lives. You’re a good person for the most part. You go about your day and do your best not to be a total piece of shit, and usually that works out, but you don’t get caught up in the whole Heaven! and Hell! thing. Though one time when you confessed to Constantine that you don’t believe in God, he’d bitterly said, “That doesn’t mean He doesn’t believe in you, the asshole.” For someone supposedly on God's side, Constantine never seemed to like Him much.

🔥You follow Wick one night, desperate to know if Constantine was right. You get caught, because you are just human, and Tarasov decides you’ll make a perfect little sacrifice for the profane ritual they’re setting up. Constantine, of course, was following you. Before the knife can fall MAYEM ensues. SO MANY Demons get their asses deported, but you almost die anyway. In the end, Wick pulls a Selfless Act saving you, and he gets turned into a halfbreed angel instead.

😡Constantine is so fucking pissed off about this.

🤷‍♀️You love them both and have no idea how you’re going to choose.

#john wick #constantine #keanu reeves #constantine x you #john wick x you #constantine x reader #john wick x reader #john constantine #john wick imagine #constantine imagine #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves x reader #keanu x you #julia imagines

[babydollmarauders]

HITS DIFFERENT— JACK HUGHES

final part of the Midnights Fic List

summary: in which y/n and Jack were in a relationship for 4 years before deciding to go separate ways, but everything reminds her of him and y/n realizes she’s made a mistake by letting him go.

specific lyrics: “i washed my hands of us at the club, you made a mess of me. i pictured you with other girls in love, then threw up on the street.” and “they say that if it's right, you know. each bar plays our song, nothing has ever felt so wrong.” and “i find the artifacts, cried over a hat, cursed the space that i needed. i trace the evidence, make it make some sense why the wound is still bleedin'. you were the one that i loved.” and “i heard your key turn in the door down the hallway. is that your key in the door? is it okay? is it you?” and “i never don't cry at the bar. yeah, my sadness is contagious. i slur your name 'til someone puts me in a car.” and “love is a lie; shit my friends say to get me by.”

notes: i don't know how i feel about this one. i feel like i could've potentially done better, but anyways MIDNIGHTS FIC LIST IS OFFICIALLY DONE! it's a month later than i had originally wanted to finish it, but it's finally done!

the reflection staring back at me is a bit of a hot mess. mascara smudged, hair tousled, lipstick fading. i stare in the mirror until i feel the sting of the hot water on my hands, pulling them back with a hiss of pain. the alcohol running through my veins helps me avoid overthinking about this dingy club bathroom, my shoes sticking to the floor with every step. but the buzz does nothing to help with the thoughts that run through my mind when i hear the song that’s blasting from the speakers throughout the club.

“y/n/n, you good?” my head snaps over to Marie, her upper body peeking in through the bathroom door. one look at me makes her sigh. “you’re thinking about him again, aren’t you?”

“it’s our song.” i explain, as though she hasn’t heard the same excuse at every other bar we’ve been to in the past six months.

“i know it is, hun.” she gives me a pitiful smile, fully entering the grimy bathroom in order to grab my hand.

“it just feels so wrong hearing it without him.” tears well up in my eyes, my heart hurting just a little extra.

“let’s go get you another drink.” i give a numb nod in response, letting her lead me to our other friends that sit in a booth by the bar. at the sight of my state, they both give each other an unspoken glance before giving me a look of pity.

“i ordered you another tequila sunrise.” Beth tells me, sliding the drink towards me. i drop into the booth, muttering a short ‘thanks’ before gulping at the drink.

“lay it on us, babe. what’s on your mind tonight?” Lisa pipes up, sipping at her own drink and raising a brow at me.

“i just— they say that if it’s right, you know. and i thought we were right. but, it makes no sense because why didn’t i know until we broke up? i mean, i knew. obviously i knew, i followed him here from Michigan. but, i didn’t know know until we separated, ya know?”

“i’m gonna be honest, i only understood maybe half of what you just said.” Lisa says, making Beth and Marie giggle. “but love is a lie, y/n/n. sure, you can like someone enough to be with them for a long time, but romantic love? complete bullshit. it doesn’t exist. this isn’t the movies.”

“she’s right. and the quicker you realize that, the quicker you’ll get over him.” Marie nods, pointing at Lisa as she speaks while Beth hums in agreement.

“i don’t know if i’ll ever get over him. i love him. i miss him.” i whine. “i want him back. i don’t wanna be here. i want Jack.”

“alright, maybe it’s time we get you back home.” Beth sighs, tapping her thumbs on her phone. ordering an uber, i assume.

“i don’t wanna go home. i wanna see Jack.”

“you can’t see Jack, y/n. you’re drunk, and you guys broke up.” Marie pats my shoulder, helping me out of the booth and out of the club, the other two girls following behind us.

i continue mumbling to myself, my words slurred, and i’m eighty percent sure that the only actual audible word was my ex’s name.

“c’mon, hun. watch your head.” Lisa coos, helping me into the uber. “we’ll see you on tuesday, babe. get some sleep.”

Marie and Beth call out some goodbyes before Lisa shuts the car door, she motions for the guy up front to lower his window, whispering something to him before he starts off towards my house.

“would it be too late to ask to change the drop off location?” i ask him, anxiously playing with the strap of my purse as i speak.

“i’m sorry, ma’am. your friend just told me you might ask that. she said i’m under strict orders to take you straight to the predetermined destination.” i heave out a deep breath, slumping back into the seat of the car.

it doesn’t take too long to get to my apartment complex, muttering a ‘thank you’ to the man before sliding out of the vehicle and making my way up to my apartment. as soon as i make it into the apartment, i bee-line for my bedroom, stripping out of my club outfit and changing into some leggings and a tank top. i wipe off my makeup and throw my hair up before entering my closet. my sights set on the old USA Hockey sweatshirt on my shelf, i hop up, reaching for the article of clothing. however, as soon as i pull it down, something else comes tumbling down with it, falling to the floor in front of me.

slipping the sweatshirt on, i bend down to pick up the fallen item. holding it, tears prick the backs of my eyes as i realize what it is, Jack’s hat. his New York Yankees hat to be exact. my heart aches remembering the times he wore it. our Yankees game, date nights, even just lounging around the house. clutching the hat to my chest, i sink to the floor, sitting criss cross as i cry.

space. why did i think i needed space? i got plenty of space when he was always gone for roadies. fuck space. i just want him. my fingers trace the Yankees symbol, my tears falling down onto the dark blue fabric. why does it still hurt so bad? it’s been six months.

i know it may not help that i’m still in the same apartment we shared. every piece of this home reminds me of him. but it’s been much too hard to move. i tried looking at other apartments, but nothing felt as right as this one. i’m not ready to give up the last piece i have of the one i love.

too busy crying on the closet floor, i barely hear the lock on the front door turning. my head snaps up at the sound, trying to remember which of my friends have spare keys. Marie, Beth, and Lisa are the only ones, but i just left them. that only leaves two other options, Quinn or Jack. but, that i’m aware of, Quinn is still in Vancouver. i know he doesn’t have another game in New Jersey until next month. which only leaves Jack. i try not to get my hopes up, but i can’t help but wonder if it’s him, if he’s come back. the chances are slim. it’s been six months, why would he come back now?

i come to the decision that it’s probably Marie checking up on me. probably worried about the way i was when we parted not that long ago. it wouldn’t be the first time she’s checked on me.

footsteps thump against the wooden floors, getting closer to the bedroom, and i huddle further into the closet, hoping Marie will just leave me alone. tears still stream down my face as i clutch the hat closer to my chest, letting out silent sobs.

“y/n?”

that’s not Marie.

too exhausted, i opt out of leaving the closet, not even able to get myself to speak without being racked with sobs. i sniffle as i hear him pass the closet, the footsteps stop for a moment before i hear them start again, getting closer to the cracked open closet door. i don’t bother looking, fully believing that at this point i’m a mix of drunk and sleep deprived, just hearing things that aren’t there. i wipe at my eyes but the tears keep coming. i shift to bring my knees to my chest, the hat now gripped in my hands in front of me.

“oh, baby.” i hear from behind me before a body drops down beside me on the floor, pulling me into them. his cologne fills my senses, my face buried into his chest. the scent fills me with melancholy, memories of when he used to hold me close and whisper sweet nothings in my ear. comforting me. making me feel at home within his arms.

“it’s okay.” as if i summoned the whispers with my thoughts, his breath fans across my ear. “i’m here. i’ve got you. i’m right here.”

his reassurances calm me just slightly, but the real help is when he splays a hand along my chest, taking deep breaths. muscle memory takes over as i mimic his breathing.

“what are you doing here?” i ask once i’ve finally calmed enough to speak. i wipe at my nose with the sleeve of my sweatshirt, finally looking up into the blue eyes that peer down at me.

“Beth called me.” he whispers.

“she did?”

“yeah. she told me you’re not doing okay.” he confesses. “she didn’t tell me much more than that. just that she’d really appreciate if i checked on you.”

“you came over here in the middle of the night just to check on me?” i question. “you have a game tomorrow. you should be sleeping.”

“you’re a lot more important than a game.” his hand moves from my chest to cup my jaw. “i told you i would always be here for you, y/n. i meant it.”

“but, we broke up. i didn’t think you cared anymore.” a lone tear drops from my right eye as i speak.

“i’ll always care about you. i don’t think i can ever stop. i love you, y/n/n. and i know you said you wanted space, and i respected that, but i told you when we broke up that i would be here when you decided you were ready.” he pauses, his eyes scanning my face before he continues speaking. “and now i really hope you’re ready because these past few months have been hell without you.”

“i made a mistake. i don’t want space. i want you. you’re the only thing i’ve wanted since i was seventeen.” my voice is barely above a whisper, scared for his response.

“you have me. i’m right here.” his eyes jump between my own and my lips three times before he leans down. i meet him halfway, our lips pressing together in a slow kiss. gentle passion and love radiates between us, his hands cupping my face as mine grip the nape of his neck as if he'll disappear from my hold.

pulling away, his forehead leans against mine. my breath catches in my throat at the sight of the smile gracing his lips. a smile of my own spread across my face and i crane my neck to place a chaste kiss on his lips.

"i missed you so much." i admit. "moving on from boys in high school was so easy, but the heartbreak hit different this time."

"that's how you know it's real. we're real. there's no moving on from us." he tells me. "at least, not for me."

he pulls me in tighter against him, crashing his lips against mine once more, and i feel content again, my life being fixed with such a simple motion.

#midnights fic list #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #nj devils #faithlynn’s writings <3 #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl blurb

[prettyboypistol]

TF2 Medic x M!Reader || Unreliable Nurse

[Hurt/Comfort] [Understanding Medic] [Period Accurate Homophobia/Xenophobia towards Gays/Germans] [Coworkers to Ambiguous] [GORE WARNING]

You were a mercenary. You were hired to kill people day in and out for the gratification of your superiors and you were not allowed to stop until the day your contract ended. Every morning should have been the same- wake up, gear up, shoot up.

So why the hell were you holding your Heavy's torso open with spreaders while your Medic bug around in his organs?! You were supposed to end lives, not mangle them back to life!

"Medic, why am I even here?" You grunt in disgust as Heavy's organs squish against your bare palm. They are disgustingly alive. Should intestines move like that on their own?!

"Well someone has to hold the ribcage open, and my hands are rather busy at the moment!" Medic responded cheerfully. He was right though; both of his hands were what you could only describe as groping Heavy's lungs and heart with a sadistically pleasures look in his eyes.

"Eugh, you look like you're getting off to this." You growled as Medic finally seemed satisfied with his curiosities. The lungs he had installed in Heavy were significantly bugger than your head- would the torso even close up?

"Nonsense, I am a professional- er, mostly." Medic chuckled to himself. He waved your hold away as he healed Heavy back up to his usual hulking self. Well, at least someone seemed happy about the surgery that wasn't an absolute psycho.

You had no idea why you helped Medic clean up after the surgery, you could have left at any time, yet you didn't. Maybe it was because you held a burning question on the tip of your tongue that begged to esca-

"Do you actually get off to like, gore and stuff?"

Shit.

Medic perked up, a quizzical look on his face as he flushed the blood into the storage bags. "Do I really give off that vibe?" He sounded rather genuine in his question too. Fuck, you felt like the world's biggest asshole.

"I mean, Scout seems to think so- plus uh, you do this thing with your face that kinda well-" you stumbled over your words as you swept up the bone fragments into the dustpan at your feet. Bending over, you finally finished your sentence. "I dunno, it just looks like you're some kinda sadist."

Medic shook his head as he placed the bloodbags into the fridge. His eyes flickered over where the Spy head used to be before the enemy Scout stole it back. He was a rather funny conversationalist.

"No, not a sadist in the regard. You all are perfectly safe from me!" Medic attempted to joke. You nodded and gave him a small laugh of acknowledgement.

"Well, I suppose I should tell Scout the good news. He's been spouting about how you've been trying to inject him with homosexual serum to see if you can turn him." You informed him. You and the team knew that Scout was spouting bullshit, but your curiosity to Medics reaction was what pulled you to tell him.

Medic slammed a fist down onto his vivisection table, his expression rather grimly stern.

"I've had it with that ungrateful little brat." He muttered. He looked to you, but when you nodded in understanding, he started to vent. "He's always getting himself into shit, then begging me to fix him back up!" Medic threw his hands up, mocking Scout's voice. "always 'Oh medic, heal me!' 'Oh medic! I broke my arm again!'" Medic growled as he slicked his hair back and sighed. "All while calling me a goddamn nazi when I prioritize Heavy!"

You let Medic rant. Clearly this had been on his mind and weighing on him, if the nervous pacing and dramatic gesturing was anything to go by. Yeah, you had heard Scout make a few jabs about the SS and war camps to Medic, but you never really had gotten involved before- it wasn't your business anyway and Medic could handle himself- so you thought.

"I'm not a fucking nazi! I was sixteen and drafted as a Medic!"

You interrupted Medoc with a hand on his shoulder. He turned to look at you, shocked and clearly hurt in his brow.

"Yeah, I'll bust him up for that. Didn't know it was that bad, if I knew I woulda stepped in." You apologized- at least, this was your version of an apology. Medic took a calming inhale before he tried to return you a weak smile.

"I try not to let the words of the youth get to me too much. Hell, do you think he was alive for the war?" Medic laughed weakly.

"Isn't he about 25? Probably was born just on the outskirts of it." You mused. You were a few years older than Scout was, but Medic outmatched you with the streaks of grey in his hair. He shook his head softly with a muttering of "Ah, the blissful ignorance of the young."

"Well, if it's any consolation, I don't think you're a nazi nor do I think you're some weird psychosexual freak trying to turn us all into homos." You promise with a playful punch to Medic’s shoulder. "Besides, you can't turn what's already there, yeah?"

"You're-"

"Mhm, don't go telling anyone though, I could lose a job if that info came out."

You thought it was only for that you were open to Medic, since he was gracious enough to be honest with you.

"I thought I was the only one!" Ah, there was that excitedly happy chirp you were scaredly fond of.

Maybe being an impromptu nurse wasn't so bad after all.

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #fanfiction #tf2 x reader #tf2 medic #team fortress medic #tf2 medic x reader #medic x reader #medic x mreader #tf2 x mreader #tf2 x male reader #tf2 mercs x male reader #tf2 mercs x reader #prettyboy pistol

[99-kroi]

sharing this little thing I did for my oc x canon ship 👀 This is Khro’a Tsrafmi, my oc, and recom Mansk from the movie Avatar The Way Of Water! more info will be posted about them soon maybe idk hehe quick summary of their story so far tho: Mansk survives the events of Avatar 2 and is found and imprisoned by Khro’a and the others. Khro’a and Mansk get closer etc. neytiri jake moment buT mansk still betrays khro’a in the end and gets rescued by the rda cause angst is yummy LMAOO 🤪 🤪 🤪 ❤️ ❤️they also obv like each other but wont admit it ha h a ANYWAY I also wrote a thingy for this illust too  🤪 ❤️ ❤️ ‎  ﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏ ‎ 

BETRAYAL

Khro’a had expected this. He had told himself that he would prepare for the worst case scenario. Yet when the worst had arrived, he was full of uncontrollable anger and also…something else he dared not to admit- He was heartbroken. As ridiculous as it sounds, he has become fond of the mysterious and silent man. Khro'a thought he saw more in him than simply another dangerous recom warrior but I guess he thought wrong.

Memories of them getting closer and even almost knowing each other to a really personal level, flashed through his mind as he stood there in the middle of the burning forest as everyone’s frantically trying to escape the sky people’s attacks.

Mansk stands next to Lyle Wainfleet across the chaos from where Khro’a is at. They were far from each other but not far enough to see where both of them were standing. “Good work, Mansk!” Lyle shouts, patting Mansk on the shoulder to make sure he heard him over all the loud noises of gunshots firing and crackling wood in the fire. “Lets get you the fuck out of here.”

Before they leave, Mansk and Khro’a make eye contact. Khro’a, doing his best not to get swayed by his emotions, stops himself from running headfirst towards the man to finish him in one go with his blades. All he could do was hiss back angrily at their direction as hot tears streamed down his face. If only he had been carrying his gun, he would have already shot Mansk by this point. You could only see a mixture of disappointment, rage, and despair on Khro'a's face at that moment.

Mansk witnessed everything. But he held a blank expression. At least that's what Khro'a, whose vision was already a little fuzzy, could see. Even though a lot of things happened so quickly, everything still seemed to move slowly.

Mansk still looking at Khro’a’s expressions and taking it all in, Its clear to see that he had completely broken his “friend’s” trust. Khro'a claims he never trusted Mansk, but Mansk didn't buy it because he could generally read Khro'a right away. Mansk was aware that Khro'a had some faith in him and hoped, deep down in his mind and heart, that this wouldn't happen.

The two took a second after khro’a looks away and immediately helps out other na’vis escape as they run deep into the woods, away from the sky people. Mansk turns his back from the forest and finally follows Lyle, who was standing by one of the RDA's gunships for him. “Everything is a part of the mission. It's what I have to do as a recom soldier." Mansk quietly reminds himself the most basic cliche ass shit ever. (SorryLMAO)

These kinds of situations don't allow for feelings. You must be an absolute fool if you fall for any of that nonsense. Khro'a and Mansk knew that very well. They shouldn't get involved, so they never expected anything to happen between them.

So why does it still hurt a little even when you expected THIS to happen? Why hope that things might change at all?

#recom mansk #mansk #khro'a tsrafmi #khro'a #99kroiocs #khro'a x mansk #avatar #avatar oc #avatar ship

[kennyluvr]

#🪐: main 4 — baking brownies with them

synopsis/concept: baking brownies with the main 4

content warnings: none!

author's note: the thing with ike is partially based of a personal experience LMAO. also i think there's tense inconsistencies but i don't wanna revise smh, so sorry ab that!

kyle broflovski

kyle loves to bake with you whenever it rains, it helps him relax. whenever he starts to hear even a drizzle he calls you to come over😫

you guys rarely use a prepared recipe though, and whatever you use to make it changes every time, since you're just winging it most days and trying a bunch of stuff

and you guys love to add random shit to it, like whatever you can reach, you just grab it and dump it in.

you guys are constantly giggling and yelling so it never gets boring or quiet, it's literally so fun

literally everything is funny to you, like kyle mixed up the flour and the sugar and you both found it hilarious??

you guys also put music on and dance every few minutes, and while you wait for them to finish

and sometimes ike comes into the kitchen and joins you guys, until kyle makes him leave against your protests 😔

once, ike got on the counter somehow and smeared the batter everywhere when you two weren't looking. that's why kyle doesn't let him stay long most of the time anymore

it was so funny because you both thought it was shit 😨

you guys were laughing until your stomachs hurt when you realized, but sheila was NOT amused 💀

tbh it took longer to clean than to make the brownies since you made such a mess, and lowk made it worse.. but cold brownies are better anyway!

stan marsh

stan would literally be so prepared. he has a recipe sheet, all the ingredients, toppings, and supplies all laid out neatly on the counter.

he'll probably want to add some weird ass shit to it too, like marshmallows, or peanut butter

"trust me it'll taste good! i swear, i've had it before. you're gonna thank me later"

and somehow it does turn out good?? 😧

he'll probably get cute matching aprons for both of you omg??

he partially takes the lead, being kind of bossy tbh but we love dominant stan

and he's definitely a perfectionist, like he'll measure everything meticulously. if you add even a drop more of something than the recipe calls to tease him, he'll lowk panic tbh

and if you try to taste the batter he'll probably lecture you about how dangerous it is 😒

"don't do that dumbass, you could get salmonella. or e. coli or something."

before putting it into the oven he'll probably write a cute little note on it for you with a toothpick or something to surprise you 🤭

luckily, you guys finish up fairly quickly, since stan's so neat and organized

eric cartman

unfortunately you're not really baking with him, you're baking for him..

does nothing to help you except tell you how he likes it and how he wants it to be

"um, no y/n. i want more vanilla in it. usually i eat them with a lot of vanilla"

he's kind of excited though, he loves when you do stuff like this for him, it literally makes his heart swell 😓

he'd probably be super close to you all the time to supervise you and shit, hugging your waist closer to him

you do the opposite of what he says sometimes just to bug him, because the look of exasperation on his face is so cute 😕

"oh my god- you stupid FUCK i wanted m&ms. what normal person eats brownies with almonds??" (almond brownies are fire btw)

he's so funny when he gets mad too, and you keep having to stop to catch your breath

but honestly, sometimes, he's not actually upset or mad at what you're doing. he just does it more and exaggerates just because he knows it'll make you laugh, and he loves seeing you smile so widely because of him

he's so impatient too, when they're baking he keeps asking when they're going to be done

when you're finally done, he'll tell you how good they are to justify all the stress he caused 🙏

"see? i told you it would be better with m&m's. and the almonds aren't too bad either, i guess."

kenny mccormick

kenny would agree but he'd be really cautious and scared to do anything

he still tries to make himself as helpful as possible, bringing you everything you need, giving you suggestions or ideas

you have to beat him away with a spoon sometimes because he keeps trying to have all the chocolate 😭

he feels bad that he can't do much, but he doesn't want to accidentally kill himself

so he opts to hinder you support you emotionally as well, just hugging your waist from behind and encouraging you with kisses ☹️

and just like kyle, you guys put on music while baking

but once you knocked over a whole bag of flour dancing, and he was just laughing hysterically 💀

and you yelled at him to help you clean up, but he's writhing on the floor, cackling and coating himself in flour

and then when he's helping you clean, he probably knocks over the batter or something and he starts laughing his ass off again

it ends up taking a while to finish, since you and kenny are both a mess and have to restart tons of times

but eventually, when you finish, he'll probably ask you to take some home for karen and his siblings 😢

#south park x reader #kenny mccormick x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #eric cartman x reader #stan marsh x reader #kyle brovlofski #kyle broflovski #stan marsh #eric cartman #kenny mccormick #kennyluvr

[m1ssunderstanding]

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Days Eleven and Twelve

The Different Beatle Arrivals outside apple are interesting to me. 

Ringo: arrives first, in the passenger’s seat, has a chummy remark for his driver, a cheeky grin for the camera, and a kind nod for the scruffs. 

John and Yoko: arrive second, in the back of their on-brand, white thing, with no acknowledgement of anyone (and Yoko accidentally goes for the front door then changes directions when she sees John going around the side)

George: drives himself, glances over his shoulder, locks his car door, and goes in. Again, no acknowledgement. 

Paul: walks, studiously ignores the camera, bestows a condescending nod at the scruffs. (shouldn’t be sexy. Is. what else is new?)

Everything the scruffs said was perfection. Where are their parents? Who is taking care of them? Do they not go to school?

So glad for the boys that they took a day to hide from the cameras. I hope they all traded meaningful items of clothing and meditated and circle jerked and told each other how brilliant they were. (Oh gosh. Can you all imagine a circle-jerk plus yoko? Her and Paul furiously compete over who can hold John's eye contact?)

Short queens making the beatles look like child-labor supporters. 

Look at that cute little impish grin. What do we think? Did George and John actually have a punch-up? George Martin went out of his way on at least two occasions to say that they did, in fact, come to blows. But I didn’t see any evidence on John the next day, and they both seem extremely comfortable joke-fighting here, where I don’t think they would if they’d real-fought a week or so ago. I don’t know, I think it’s very up for debate. But if they did, I actually think it would be a testament to the importance of the John and George dynamic. We always say how it shows how much John must’ve cared about Paul to sprint down the road and jump his fence over a missed recording session. What would it say about how much John must’ve cared about George if he punched him when he said he’d quit?

Either way, their *meaningful* rendition of “You are my sunshine” is heart-melting.

Yoko, the og sad beige mom.

Add juggling to Ringo’s talents in his cabaret/circus act with Paul.

Every old man obsessed with “tough, acerbic Lennon” needs to have “My rock and roll finger is bleeding, my rock and roll finger is hurt” played on a loop in their heads every time they open their mouths until they shut up. 

Paul, why are you literally strong-arming Glyn into the studio? This man does not know how to touch another person.    

Maybe they kept Magic Alex around just for laughs? It’s good to hear anyway, that they are fully aware they’re being conned. 

The way George and Paul just in sync jump into their old choreography. 

The way they could really have just gone off and done their own things while Glyn finishes setting up. But the idea just doesn’t occur to them. Why would they want to be anywhere else, doing anything else, with anyone else? 

I feel like John right now because I’m like enjoying Paul’s sexy drumming face and then the camera switches and I’m like Oh Yoko you’re so pretty. And is this another *meaningful* cover? I’m going to have to make a list of all these and go through after I’m done with this and see which ones I think actually have a double meaning. “My baby left me” by Crudup. My main evidence here being Yoko’s Jim Halpert expression as John’s singing this at Paul.

How to get Paul to stop messing with your shit. A demonstration by Ringo Starr. 

John is Not having Paul reading their bad press for the cameras.

And today, it’s John that needs a little Ringofection. I wonder if it had anything to do with “Aaaaall I want is youuuuuuuuu. Everything has got to be the way you want it toooooooooo.”

George looking at Ringo’s jumping jacks. I agree. 

“Richard Rogers has got nothing on this boy. . . . Ah, sometimes, John, I don’t know.” “I just make it up as I go along.” “Oh, is that how you do it?” Again. He’s being silly, but he really does think you’re the smartest boy in the whole wide world, John. I hope you know that. (he definitely does not know that.)  

ICONIC. One of my favorite moments of the whole series. Not a glance at each other. Perfectly synchronized.

Any particular significance with Dicky Murdock that anyone knows about?  

Another favorite moment. The absolute marshmallow softness. Oh to have footage of Paul teaching John guitar chords on one of their childhood beds.

Not going to say it again, but boy am I thinking it.

Someone needs to make a compilation of all the times someone’s been caught giving John and Paul a WTF look. 

#paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #ringo starr #george harrison #get back