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#like. do you not see the double standard there or.... no? okay
vodika-vibes · 17 hours
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Cowboy Casanova
Summary: When you decided to move to the middle of nowhere to get some perspective in your life, you expect to be bored out of your mind. You definitely don’t expect Bacara.
Pairing: Commander Bacara x F!Reader
Word Count: 4123
Warnings: Smut, dom/sub dynamics, biting, hints of a breeding kink
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @dukeoftheblackstar @kimiheartblade @mire-draws-things
A/N: This started out at one thing, turned into another, which turned into a third thing, and anyway it's now what it was supposed to be so I had to change the name, which makes me sad. The Original name was Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy. Anyway! I hope you like my sin. Also, this is a western au because...I don't have a reason other than Bacara with a cowboy hat. I'm sorry. Anyway, no requests got done today because of this. Note, this isn't edited - so if you see any errors, no you didn't.
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“You’re staring,”
“Am not.” You reply absently as you drag your gaze across Bacara’s bare chest, your eyes lingering first on his dog tags and then on the nipple piercings that he got when he lost a bet.
He chuckles, low and deep, “You’re still staring.”
“If you don’t want to be stared at, then you should put on a shirt.” You counter, unrepentant.
Bacara arches a brow and flings a rag at your face, making you sputter and scrunch up your nose, “You wouldn’t say that if I was staring at you.”
“Of course not. Double standards are a thing after all.”
He rolls his eyes and walks over to you, leaning into your personal space as he picks up his rag again, a smug smirk crossing his face when your gaze drops to his chest and then his waist, before snapping back to his face, “See something you like, city mouse?”
Your face heats, but you keep your gaze locked with his, “Just worried that your pants are going to fall down since they’re hanging so low.”
“Fashion choice,” Bacara replies with a shrug, as he walks away from you and back over to the machine he’s trying to make work, “Besides, it’s hot as balls out here, and I hate the feel of my shirt sticking to my skin.”
Well, he’s not wrong about that.
Bacara leans back into the engine block and reaches in, “Why don’t you just pay someone to come and fix it?” You ask.
“You have the money for some repair man from the city to drive out here and fix this? Cause I sure as hell don’t.”
“You own, like, a dozen cows.”
“There are three dozen of them, actually.”
“That’s not the point that you think it is.”
He laughs and pulls back, “Yeah, yeah. I know. Come here, I need a small hand.”
“I don’t fix things, Bacara.” You warn, though you do hop off the bale of hay that you’ve been sitting on and walk over to him.
“You need to learn, city mouse. What happens if something breaks in your home?”
“Uh, I’ll call you.”
“What if I’m not available?”
“Why wouldn’t you be available?”
“Believe it or not, I don’t exist to come running at your beck and call.” Bacara replies dryly.
“What? Wow! Really?” You marvel sarcastically, and then you yelp when he pinches your side. “Rude!”
“Alright, Little Miss Sass, I need you to reach into there and feel around for any loose wires.” Bacara explains as he presses his chest against your back and points where he needs your help.
“Wires? I’m not going to get electrocuted, am I?” You ask as you try, really, really hard to not get distracted at the feel of him pressed against you.
He shoots you a look, “Of course not. It’s totally safe.”
“Fiiine.” You sigh out as you reach into the opening and feel around blindly, “Um...okay, I found a wire.”
“Excellent work,” His voice is low against your ear, and you can’t help but shiver. Embarrassingly, he notices and a quiet chuckle falls from him, “I need you to follow the wire and tell me if it’s connected on both ends.”
You ignore him, as best as you can, and feel around for a moment, “I...think so? It doesn’t feel loose at least.”
“Damn, I was hoping you’d say the opposite. Alright, pretty girl. You’re done. This is now, officially, someone elses problem.”
You pull your hand out and make a face at the oil on your fingers, “I thought you didn’t want to pay-”
“I don’t, which is why I’ll have Neyo come and fix it.”
“Ripping off your own brothers, shame-”
“What are brothers for if not a little unpaid labor every now and then?” Bacara asks rhetorically, “Come on, you can come inside and get that stuff off your hand.” He picks his hat up off his work table, and pauses before setting it on his head.
He shoots you a small smirk, and drops his hat on your head, it immediately tilts over your eyes, and you use the back of your hand to tilt the rim back so you can look at him, “Well, how do I look?” You ask with a small grin.
Bacara lazily drags his gaze across your body, his smirk growing, “Hot as hell,” He drawls.
Your face heats again. Still, you’re not able to stop the delight from sliding across your face, “Well, thank you~”
He stares at you for a moment longer, and then motions for you to follow him. It’s kind of unnecessary, you could navigate Bacara’s ranch blindfolded and drunk, but you do appreciate being able to walk with him.
After you get yourself cleaned up, which takes a lot longer than you anticipated since the oil just did not want to come off your hands, you meander from the guest bedroom, down the hall, and into the kitchen.
He’s still not wearing a shirt, and you’re beginning to think that he’s walking around like that intentionally. “Did you manage to get the oil off?” Bacara asks as he turns to face you.
“Yeah, eventually. The bottle of special soap was empty, so I had to make some more real quick.” You shrug easily as you sink into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. You don’t mind, you normally make it for him anyway.
Your parents would be so proud. Thousands of credits spent on a fancy Chem degree...and you use it mixing oil removing soap.
“Sorry about that, I should have checked earlier.”
“Don’t worry about it.” You fold your legs under you, and your attention lands on something interesting on the table.
Now. Bacara is a rancher, there’s always new and interesting things laying around his house that he needs to explain to you. Over the year that you’ve been friends with him, you’ve learned a lot about ranching and about the things that he needs to do his job well.
This, however, is new.
“Bacara?” You sound slightly bemused as you reach across the table and hook a finger under, surprisingly silky, maroon rope, “What’s this for?” You ask as you turn your gaze to him.
Unless your eyes are deceiving you, there’s a hint of a blush on his face.
“It’s a joke gift. From Cody.” Bacara replies as he walks over to the table and picks up the rope, only to hesitate for a moment, “Although-” he murmurs quietly, as if to himself, as he pulls some of the rope out and lays it across your wrist, “It would look amazing wrapped around your wrists.”
You tilt your head and your mouth is slightly dry, you’re pretty sure that his comment was meant to be an inside thought, not an outside one, but it’s not like you can unring that bell.
“I think it’d look better wrapped around yours.” You blurt, and his gaze snaps to meet yours, “The color would look amazing against your skin tone.” You add, sheepishly.
He stares at you, and you stare right back at him.
And just as you’re about to apologize, Bacara smirks.
“Alright.”
You blink at him, “Alright?”
“Alright. Lets see what you’re capable of.”
You blink at him again. And then a third time as his words process, “Wait! Really?”
“Really. Unless you think you can’t handle it.”
“I can handle it,” You shoot back, “The question is can you?”
He folds his arms across his broad chest, “Let’s make this a little more fun-”
“-more fun then you getting tied up?”
His grin is predatory and sharp, “I don’t beg. Ever. For anyone.” He advances on you, “However, if you can make me beg in say...an hour, you win this little challenge and I’ll do whatever you want for a week.”
“You already do whatever I want, Bacara.” You point out.
“Unimportant.” He replies, “But when you lose-”
“-if. If I lose-”
His gaze locks with yours and his grin becomes even more predatory, “When you lose,” Bacara repeats, “I get two hours to make you beg for me, and when I win you’ll do whatever I want for a week.”
“Hold on now! How come you get two hours and I only get one?” You demand.
“Because I’m going to spend the first hour with my face buried in your pussy, that’s why.”
Your entire thought process screeches to a halt as your train of thought derails. “...oh.”
“So what do you say, city mouse? Do we have a deal?”
And, really, there’s only one thing you can say to that, “Deal.”
Bacara advances on you again, essentially crowding you, as he walks you through his home and into his bedroom. His eyes a glittering with arousal, but he doesn’t touch you, as much as you can tell that he wants to.
He kicks the bedroom door shut and turns on the lamp so there’s some light in the room, and then he folds his arms and waits.
You gaze at him thoughtfully, a small smile on your lips, “You’re wearing too much. Strip.”
His gaze is hot as it lingers on your face, “Yes ma’am,”
You consider watching him strip for a moment, but instead turn to the bed and start setting up the rope, while pulling out your phone to look up safe ways to tie him up.
“Alright,” You murmur to yourself as you make sure the ropes are secure around the bed frame, and you climb off the bed to focus your attention on him, “Pick a position that’s comfortable for you, Bacara.” You say as you carefully don’t take your eyes off his face.
“Not even gonna steal a peek, kitten?” Bacara asks, as he moves passed you and settles on the bed, with his back pressed against the headboard.
“I lady doesn’t peek, Bacara,” You sniff.
“Oh? Do they tie up their friends.”
“I can leave you know.”
He laughs and grabs your wrist to tug you onto the bed, you tumble against him, your hands settling on his shoulders, as he reaches around you to settle his hand on the back of your neck, “I want you to look, kitten. After all, I need to know if I meet your approval.” You have to shift to get more comfortable, eventually straddling his thigh so you’re not twisted uncomfortably.
You roll your eyes, but slowly drag your gaze down his chest, a nearly silent sigh of delight falling from you when you see that he’s still wearing his dog tags. Bacara chuckles lowly, and you hurriedly continue your visual perusal of the man beneath you.
He’s solid, your Bacara. Oh sure, he has a belly, but you’re pretty sure that he’s solid muscle, like the professional weight lifters you used to know in college. Big, beefy, and could lift you with one arm if he was so inclined.
Absently you trail your fingers down his chest, teasingly skirting around the nipple piercings, and down his stomach, and then your gaze lands on his cock.
Already erect and with precum leaking from the head.
He’s gorgeous.
But that’s not what catches your attention. No. What catches your attention is the golden piercings.
You blink at the piercings dumbly for a moment. “Holy shit Bacara.” You blurt, “Why didn’t you say that you had cock piercings?”
“Not really something that comes up in polite conversations,” He counters with a grin.
“But...If I had know then my-” You cut yourself off before you finish the thought, and you snap your gaze to his face, “Never mind.”
“Oh no, you definitely need to finish that thought, kitten.” Bacara practically purrs, “Come on, your what?”
“Nope. Not going there.” You shift your weight slightly, and reach down to grab his wrist, but Bacara doesn’t let you move it. “Really?”
He smirks, “Tell me, and I’ll let you tie me up.”
“Don’t you automatically lose if you don’t let me even try?” You try to bargain.
His smirk widens, “No, because I saw that look on your face. You want my face in your pussy.”
Damn him for being right.
“Fine,” You drag the word out, “I might have fantasized about you before. Maybe.”
He smirks smugly, “Knew it. Alright, you may continue.”
“I’m pretty sure that I’m supposed to be the one in control right now.” You counter, even as you bring his hand to the headboard and carefully loop the rope around his wrist.
Bacara hums and his still free hand comes up to caress your hip, “Oh, kitten. I need you to understand that I’m letting you do this. But I need you to know that I’m the one in control here, not you.”
Your fingers slip on the rope, “I’m going to pretend that you didn’t say that for the sake of the challenge.” You finally say once you finish with your knot, “How’s that? Too tight?”
Bacara tugs at the rope experimentally, “Good enough.” He finally says, as he lifts his other hand to the headboard.
You’re a lot faster this time, now that you know what you’re doing, and you sit back on your heels as you look at him. “I was right,” You finally say as you climb off of him so you’re able to peel your own clothes off.
“Bout what?” Bacara asks as he watches you strip with hungry eyes.
“That color does look amazing against your skin.”
He hums his understanding, tilting his head so he’s able to watch you push your shorts and panties down your legs. “I can just about guarantee that it’s going to look much better against yours.”
You set your clothes on a chair and climb on the end of the bed, settling yourself between his feet.
Bacara looks completely relaxed, and you’re beginning to accept that he was right, he is the one in control here, as much as it might seem like you are. “Just gonna sit there and stare at me, kitten?” He drawls.
“I’m thinking.”
“Do you need some direction?” He offers, “Because I can do that.”
“I’m not giving up yet, Bacara.” You counter as you slide up so that you’re better able to reach him, your fingers feather light as you glide them across his thigh.
His muscle twitches under your touch, “Yet, huh.” Bacara says with a small smirk, “Good to know.”
Finally fed up with his comments, you surge up and crash your lips against his. Your hands wander across his chest, lightly flicking his piercings, as you trail your tongue across his lower lip.
You’re almost surprised when he takes control of the kiss.
Almost.
He catches your lower lip between his teeth, and nips you roughly enough that a squeak falls from you. Bacara then soothes the sore spot with a lazy swipe of his tongue, and the moment you part your lips for him, his tongue slides against your own.
He maps out your mouth with a single minded intensity that leaves you moaning, and encourages you to straddle him again. When you break the kiss, you’re slightly breathless, and his gaze is dark as is slides across your face.
“You should give up, kitten.” Bacara purrs.
You shake your head, “I can still win.”
He laughs, “You’re already straddling me, and we haven’t done much more than kissing.”
“That-”
“I’ll make you feel so good, kitten.” He purrs as he tugs his wrist once, causing the knot to unravel. He presses his hand against the small of your back, and pulls you closer, and you shiver when you feel his hard erection pressed against you.
Unthinkingly, you grind against him, the head of his cock pressing deliciously against your clit and a moan fall from your lips as you do so.
His arm hooks tightly around your waist, and he pulls you closer so that he’s able to trail his lips against your throat, “Say you give up, kitten. And I’ll give you exactly what you need.”
Your lips turn down into a small pout.
“We can try this again later,” He promises, very temptingly, “After you’ve had some time to prepare properly.”
You peer at him, and then release a heavy sigh, and reach up to untie his other hand, “This isn’t me giving up.”
“Of course not.” Bacara agrees, suspiciously easily, “But, it is you forfeiting, which means it’s my turn.”
You squeak as he flips you so that you’re under him, smoothly using one hand to pin your hand over your head and tying them together and to the headboard.
Bemused, you tug on the ropes, but there’s no give whatsoever, “How-”
“Practice. I’ll teach you properly for next time.”
“...this game was designed for me to lose from the get go, wasn’t it.”
He grins and leans over you, his lips hovering just over yours, “Good girl, I knew you’d figure it out eventually.”
“You’re a dick.”
“Not gonna deny that.” He replies before he kisses you deeply, but quickly.
And then he’s moving down your body, biting marks into the soft skin of your neck and throat, across your collar, and down your chest. You squirm and writhe under his attention, biting your lower lip to keep yourself quiet.
He takes a quick moment to lavish your nipples with attention, before he’s moving again. At this, you’re unable to keep yourself from gasping out his name, and you feel his lips curl up into a smile against your breast.
Bacara litters your stomach and sides with possessive marks and then he leaves a trail of bite marks from your hip to your thighs. By this point, you’re a moaning mess, you don’t care if this means that he wins, you just don’t want him to stop.
And only then, when he’s sure that you’re covered in his marks, and when you’re whining for him, does he spread your legs to make room for himself between your thighs.
“Look at you,” Bacara praises lightly as he drags a single finger between your folds, a pleased smirk crossing his face as your hips twitch towards him, “You’re already wet. Do you have a biting kink, kitten?”
Your face burns at his words, and you stubbornly press your lips together to not say anything.
Bacara clicks his tongue, and his hand lands, heavily, on your outer thigh. It surprises you more than it hurts you, and you blink at him wide eyed, “I asked you a question.”
You know what he wants to hear. Even though you’re so horny that you almost can’t stand it. Even though his large, calloused finger is circling your clit in a way that is kind of driving you insane. You still know what he wants to hear.
What he’s expecting to hear.
Your tongue darts out to wet your dry lips, and you plaster on your most innocent expression, “Did you?” You ask, slightly breathlessly as you clench around nothing from his teasing, “I wasn’t listening.”
Bacara stops. His fingers stop moving, and his hand, which was caressing your thigh and the red mark blooming there, stops moving as well. He searches your face for something, and then a slow smirk crosses his lips.
“Safe word or color?”
Your heart racing with excitement, you breath out, “Color.”
He hums, “What color are you?”
“Green.” You blurt, “Very green.”
For a moment, there’s a glimmer of something warm and soft on his handsome face, before it’s gone. “So, it sounds like you are able to listen.”
“When I want to.”
“Then it sounds like I just need to teach you that you need to listen to me, doesn’t it?”
You feel a thrill of delight, “If you ever said anything worth listening to-” You words get cut off with a ragged moan as he suddenly thrusts a finger into your pussy and curls it, almost instinctively finding the spot deep inside you that makes you see stars.
“I’m going to tell you how this is going to go,” Bacara says, a hint of promise in his voice, “I’m going to give you as many orgasms as I want, you are only allowed to cum when I allow it.” He eases his finger out of your pussy, and licks it clean with an appreciative hum, “And, if you don’t obey me, I’ll have to punish you.”
“Punish?” You ask.
He just smirks, “Do you understand? Answer verbally.”
“I understand,”
“Good girl,” He gives himself a couple of lazy strokes as he examines your splayed out body appreciatively. “I did say that I was going to bury my face in your pussy, didn’t I.” He muses, loud enough that you’re able to hear him, “But I don’t think you’ve earned that.”
That pulls an unhappy noise from your lips, and he chuckles, “Only good girls get to have their pussy eaten, and you haven’t been a good girl.” He releases your legs, letting them fall back to the bed, before he reaches up to check the ropes one more time, and then flips you, making sure that the ropes didn’t twist in such a way to hurt you. “There we go,” Bacara murmurs as he smooths his hand over your ass and then squeezes roughly
You squirm under him, but settle when you feel his hand press against your lower back. He quickly eases a pillow under your hips and adjusts your legs so that you’re spread wide for him.
He doesn’t touch you for a moment, though you can feel his heavy gaze dragging against you body. Just as you start to squirm, a little self conscious about being so exposed, his hands are on you again.
His hands are calloused and heavy on your body, and you’re sure you’re going to have bruises from his hands covering your body, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to care as his hands press into you.
And then you don’t care about anything as the blunt head of his cock presses against you. Slowly he eases inch after inch inside you, and you’re squirming and whining before he’s even halfway sheathed.
The piercing feels amazing inside you, and you find yourself clenching around him.
Bacara groans and bites down on the back of your neck, “No cumming, kitten.” He warns as he slowly pushes the rest of the way in. As soon as he’s bottomed out, he presses a light kiss to the mark on the back of your neck.
He doesn’t move for a moment, and then he slowly eases out, until only the head of his cock is inside you. Bacara waits a beat, until you squirm to try and get him to move again, and then he thrusts in hard and fast.
He keeps the rapid pace, his breath hot against your ear, his hand fisted in your hair to keep your head down.
The sensations of his hand in your hair, and low groans in your ear, adding to the amazing feeling of his piercings dragging against your walls and the delicious stretch of his cock, are too much to handle.
And try as you might, you’re not able to keep yourself from cumming with a cry of his name.
You feel him laugh, “That’s punishment 1, kitten.”
“Not my fault-” You gasp, “Feels too good.”
“Oh? What’s that? Harder you said?” Bacara asks, as he adjusts himself slightly, before he leans in and catches your earlobe between his teeth. Before he does exactly as he warned, thrusting hard enough that you release a noise that is something between a moan and a sob of sheer pleasure.
“Good girl,” Bacara purrs, “You’re taking me so well.” He smooths his hand up your spine, “Such a willing little thing,” He coos in your ear, “I’m going to ruin you, kitten.” He catches your lips in a deep kiss, his tongue sliding against yours.
“Please,” You whisper, “Please ruin me.”
For half a moment, Bacara’s hips stutter, and he releases a deep groan. “Oh, princess. Gladly.” He pulls out completely, pulling a disapproving whine from your lips and then he flips you back onto your back, before he thrusts back into you hard and fast. “I’m going to stuff you full of my cum, princess.” He promises, “Over and over and over, until I’m good and done.”
“Cara-” You whine his name as you arch against him as best as you can.
“So, be my good girl and take all of me,” He orders as he leans in and catches your lips in a passionate kiss, “Be my good girl, and I’ll ruin you.” He promises, his gaze dark.
And, really, how can you do anything other than obey him after that promise.
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Note
So I remember Alastor basically tries to adopt Retro. Going along those lines, how would Vox react when during a slow work day he checks in on Retro over the cameras but sees the glitchy effect only caused by Alastor.
Alastor's just come to visit Retro at the tower and see if the kitchen Vox provided is up to standard for Retro to cook some meals he plans to teach them. (An attempt to annoy Vox of course)
“And that, my dear, is how you make jambalaya!” Alastor said with a grin. He snapped the cookbook shut and made it disappear- presumably so no one would be able to find out the specific family recipes he had. “Now, I must say, it’s been quite some time since you’ve visited me and Rosie for tea- quite some time indeed! Tell me, what have you been up to, my dear?”
“Uhhh…” I thought about it for a moment, then blushed a little. “… nothing much.”
“Oh?” Alastor said, his ears perking up. “Something’s happened in your relationship, then? Well, don’t keep me waiting! I might just die from the suspense, and I don’t believe double Hell would be all that pleasant…”
“It’s nothing, Al, really,” I said quickly, looking away. “Everything’s great!”
“Great, hmm? I don’t need to have a talk with that husband of yours?” He asked, leaning forward. He tilted his head inquisitively, inspecting me carefully. “He hasn’t been up to anything, has he? He hasn’t been hurting you?”
“What? No, no, no, not at all!”
“Good!” Al said, straightening up. “Just know, I wouldn’t hesitate to step in for you if he were. I’m more than capable of keeping him on a leash, and he knows it.”
“A leash?” I repeated, giving him a questioning look. I paused for a moment and realized we were thinking of two very different things. Clearly.
“Yes, of course! Here, you could do to keep him on one too,” he said with a grin. He snapped his fingers and handed me something. “Not literally of course. Angel says these ‘choker’ things are quite fashionable these days, though…”
He had given me a collar. Not a choker, a collar. I blushed scarlet red at the sight. Unfortunately, that’s exactly when Vox barged in the room.
“You old timey-prick! Get away from my wife,” he yelled, rushing in. Alastor disappeared into the shadows, teleporting away with a laugh. Likely not realizing the implications of any of his actions. “Shit!” He said, turning to me. He instinctively summoned the chains and tugged me towards him, away from the shadows Alastor had used to teleport himself away.
I made a small squeak noise and stumbled, crashing into him. “Are you okay, my dear?” Vox asked, catching me. “Did he hurt you? Are you-” he cut himself off when he saw the state I was in. Utterly flustered, holding the collar Alastor had just given me, on Vox’s chains wrapped around me. I was wet, and a squeaking mess. “Oh.”
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dykefaggotry · 7 months
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another thing i've Witnessed in all spheres of modern feminism is who gets afforded the grace of "internalized misogyny" vs who just gets called a "misogynist"
like if you are a feminine cis girl (& usually white too) all your sexist bullshit is excused as internalized misogyny that was pushed on them by a sexist society that they have to unlearn but in the meantime we cannot hold them accountable or be too mean to them bc they're traumatized and trying :((((( so if you call out their sexism, YOU are in fact being a woman-hating bitch/dyke/etc who hates girls and girlhood
but...... if you are a trans woman or you're butch or a stud or a woman of color and you say anything even perceived as sexist, oh no no you do NOT get the grace of "internalized misogyny". you don't get time to learn or grow. you are a sexist and you should be shot and you might as well be a man.
and usually the latter group's "misogyny" is just pointing out the other group's double standards and sexism which gets us called not girls girls and "pick-mes" (used wrong) and sexist etc. like sometimes obviously we ARE misogynistic, everyone is, but usually it's over the dumbest shit and even in the cases where someone in the latter group is being genuinely sexist, they are NOT given the same grace as the former group
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m0e-ru · 8 months
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did everybody remember when atlus finally restored the attendant social link in the steam port and how stupid it actually was
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starflungwaddledee · 2 months
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this is a long shot and i'm sorry to ask, but if you don't mind, can mutuals (or contacts or regulars... just... this community) of mine who aren't jumping ship like... let me know? will any of us still be here? is it over? i'm trying to know if this really is it or what's... even happening. i hate to reassurance seek but i'm feeling pretty miserable and confused.
edit: felt like i was being really pitiful and fragile making this but everybody is being so nice to me and responding so patiently with all your thoughts and i'm in tears of gratitude thank you thank you thank you 💖
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lanayrutower · 4 months
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ALSO does no one find it even a little weird how the old Zelda games firmly state that it's Hylia who built/was the first ruler of Hyrule (the king is just. sort of there), and then totk comes in and is like ahaaa no it's actually rauru who's so special and godlike actually. yeah, his wife was actually his priestess who once served him and then died stupidly because she wasn't paying attention. mmhm, she was also the reason ganon was able to take over hyrule and be super duper evil btw. uwu.
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orcelito · 5 months
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Work Rant
God I just remembered the soon to leave manager (as in this week is literally her last week) took off tip points and then messaged in the group chat about how I had to do inventory Every Week and I just fucking. Blew up at her. Barely contained rage. I tried my best to keep it civil but
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The real issue was she didn't fucking look to see when payroll would need processed and I ASKED HER on Monday whether Thanksgiving would affect the processing time and she was like "no, I think it's just on Wednesday like normal" so I was like OK and planned for doing the tips distribution (first step of payroll) after my shift if I needed to but NOOOOOO she then let me know During my shift that it had to be processed THAT NIGHT (Tuesday night) and I was like Fuck bc I couldn't do it after work. So I was like "OK ill move it up in priority" and so instead of doing inventory I got the tips distribution done (which includes all the finalizing of shifts/hours too) and was doing some other tasks and THEN the POS was wigging out so I spent the last half hour of my shift on video call with my boss trying to figure it out. And I TOLD. HER. I would be leaving like right after my shift that day bc im visiting family this week.
And she doesn't bother checking with me about any of this. She notices inventory wasn't done (it's been something that wasn't 100% necessary in the past so I figured it'd be OK for one week), immediately deducts tip points from me (and not a small amount either!!!) and THEN goes and messages Me, Directly in the fucking GROUP CHAT to publicly shame me!!!!!
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Like was this really fucking necessary? Was this Really fucking necessary????
And this coming from the girl who was messaging literally half an hour before payroll was due saying she Just sent the payroll invite to the new employee & to have him fill it out (WHILE HE WAS ON SHIFT)
Fucking bitch is so hypocritical and disorganized and yet she expects us to be 100% perfect all the fucking time. I'm so fucking sick of her and SO happy she's leaving soon. Because holy fucking shit. She's insufferable.
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emisfritish · 1 year
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Watching Never Let Me Go is like attending the "who is the worst parent" awards, and not being able to decide who will take it home.
Will it be...
"I groomed my son to take over his father's business his entire life without a care about what he wants and yet I still keep him in the dark bout everything", Tanya Kiattrakulmethee.
"I'm so insecure that I'm pushing all of my emotional baggage on my 18 year old son", Khit Suphakit.
"I feel so indebted to another family that I have no issue whatsoever asking my son to potentially sacrifice his own life to protect someone else's son", Chanon.
How will we ever decide out of all of awful characters ? Jury is still out.
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7-oh-ta1 · 2 years
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The other day I commented on a 3H tiktok I didn't agree with bec I actually DID agree a bit just not completely, and promptly found out op was a dimitri stan twitter user whose never played any other fire emblem so they thought Edelgard was complete evil with no critical thinking skills and I blocked them so fast so I would never unknowingly interact with them again. So here's me speaking out into the void that I don't think Edelgard is pure evil and I think Dimitri is fail cringe.
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#lindsay speaks#fe: three houses#it's so funny bec ppl like that op will be like edelgard is EVIL bec no life is a worthy cost of change (fair) but it's okay when dimitri#slaughtered ppl regardless of whether they had anything to do with him bec he has trauma 🥺🥺 (unfair)#like yes queen he does have trauma & what happened to him was horrible but you know what? edelgard also has trauma & what happened to her#was horrible. it's okay when dimitri wanders the countryside killing ppl without purpose but when edelgard kills those aligned with the#church then she's gone too far. at least edelgard is doing the wrong thing with good intentions. dimitri is completely unable to look#outside himself. recall him leading the army to enbarr instead of saving his people in HIS capital who desperately needed him bec he didn't#CARE about them. at least every horrible thing edelgard does she does in the name of crafting a better future for OTHER people. commoners#specifically. and I'm not saying dimitri is a bad character i actually think he's a good one. but it's SO UNFAIR to make excuses for HIM#doing HORRIBLE things and never acknowledging what he has done while at the same time condemning edelgard to being#completely irredeemable trash for the same if not better motives.#just say you hate to see a bisexual emperor woman winning and go drool over your str8 white man 🙄✋️ /hj#the way black eagles isn't even my main route i just get sick of seeing the double standard for my girl edie#honestly edelgard was slaying. dimitri would've snapped in 5 seconds in her boots 💅
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labyrynth · 1 year
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i might be inclined to to give more credit to that “jgy tried to kill everyone at the burial mounds and he’s so evil” post if if the conclusion wasn’t so dumb, but more importantly, if op wasn’t the clown that also made that “jin guangyao is so manipulative he manipulated readers into liking him” take
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astonmartinii · 11 months
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big girls do(n't) cry | charles leclerc social media au
pairing: reader x charles leclerc
charles' gf just can't seem to catch a break
yourinstagram
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liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 201,876 others
yourinstagram: weekend breaking with the girlypops
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leclercbaby: so charles is racing in miami and y/n is out spending his money with her friends?
ynandcharles: you know she has a job right? and a life outside of charles?
charlesdefender: let's not pretend her little writing gig covers all of this shit
charles_leclerc: lovely lady
yourinstagram: why thank you my dashing gentleman
ferrarigirl16: imagine dating an elite athlete and smoking? it's so gross charles needs to drop her asap
charles_leclerc
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liked by yourusername, pierregasly and 612,088 others
charles_leclerc: friday feeling in monaco 🇲🇨
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babygirlpierre NO Y/N ??? DON'T GET ME EXCITED
holacarlos55 do you people not have jobs or ?
yourusername what do they put in the water in monaco woooooof
charles_leclerc says the tall glass of water herself
justleclercthings let's not pretend that her missing his home gp isn't a HUGE deal omg
lordperceval i usually don't care about wag drama but like ... we all know y/n is the worst wag, right? she hardly comes to races, is always spending his money with her friends and is smoking as if he doesn't need to be in top condition?
likedbypierregasly you might have a point
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yourusername
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liked by yourbff, landonorris and 231,887 others
tagged: charles_leclerc, yourbff1, yourbff2, yourbff3
yourusername: you didn't think i'd forgotten about monaco, did you?
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cl16x mother back to mothering as she should
charlesstan okay well some of y'all are real quiet now
charles_leclerc wouldn't be a monaco race without you (and your stray cats)
yourbff since we're staying at your house i'll keep what i wanted to say to myself
yourbff2 meow bitch
yourusername don't pretend you don't love us
peargasly why can't she go anywhere without her friends it's so weird
pierregaslight because she obviously has no friends in the paddock any time the camera goes to the ferrari garage no one is ever with her
grussy63 she seems super annoying idk what charles sees in her
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f1wagsupdates
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liked by gatekeepgaslightgirlboss, babyricc3 and 1,276 others
tagged: yourusername
f1wagsupdates: y/n y/ln at the release party for her new book sharp objects! this is her third book and it's already a new york times best seller, so happy for her
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howdyricciardo so everyone who gets on her ass when she can't go to races but where's the same energy for charles now - we all know they have the week off cause he's on holiday with pierre.
landonowins it's such a double standard
number16 i still think she's bad for charles her actually doing her job won't change my mind
charlesbaby can't wait for the day when she won't be on this page anymore
perceval16 these comments ... they're on every post i really think charles needs to say something at this point, he's just hanging y/n out to dry
yourusername added to their story
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[caption: lonesome love. i am bored by his heroism, virtue, and honour. i think the best these men can do is not talk about themselves anymore]
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yourbff
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liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri and 4,198 others
tagged: yourusername
yourbff: since no one else will, LISTEN UP SLUTS!!! this girl is the most talented and kind-hearted girl in the whole entire world. ANYONE would be lucky to be with her, so it honestly BAFFLES my mind that those blessed enough to be with her are so silent when his so-called fans rip a person they do not know apart on social media. i say this sincerely GET A LIFE!!! also she's the sexiest girl in the world and could have literally anyone she wants so PICK UP THE SLACK OR we'll activate operation hot girl summer - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED !!!
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yourbff1 @charles_leclerc
yourbff2 @charles_leclerc
yourbff3 @charles_leclerc
yourusername i love you all so much - platonic soulmates for real
danielricciardo @charles_leclerc
charlieleclerc oh wow charles just got humbled
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charles_leclerc
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liked by carlossainz55, maxverstappen1 and 1,087,556 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: i've not been the best of boyfriends in recent weeks, so it is time i say my piece. y/n is the most talented, patient and beautiful individual i have ever met and i won't stand for her being attacked on social media by my "fans". you are not a fan of mine if you attack my girlfriend. i love her and nothing an anonymous comment can say will ever change that. you attack her for not "supporting" me enough and yet none of you know anything from behind the scenes (not that you should need to), if anything i have been the unsupportive one. i love y/n so so much and i will do anything to make sure she knows it. please stay out of our business.
comments disabled on this post.
yourusername
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liked by yourbff, charles_leclerc and 101,775 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: he's mine. cry more.
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lilacleclerc i love them so much PARENTS
danielricciardo WHOOP TELL EM'
charles_leclerc love you too baby
yourusername i love you more
landonorris mic drop
myloveleclerc finally !!!
dutchlion i'm so glad he finally said something - and also me if i were a wag CRY MORE
note: bit of a random one but alas i hope y'all enjoy
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rynwritesreid · 4 months
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You belong to me| Spencer Reid
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A/N: The rest of my uploads this week will be ones that have being requested, as I have a few waiting to be posted and I feel bad for the people waiting for their requests:) Jag älskar dig 🫶🏼
Summary: You and Spencer had called it quits on your “relationship” when Spencer refused to commit himself to you fully. However, Spencer didn’t realise how much he would hate seeing you flirt with somebody else. Happy ending(I promise).
Content: Smut and angst. Fem!reader. Dom!Spencer and Sub! reader. Possessive and to an extent asshole Spencer. Oral (F! receiving). Vaginal penetration. No mentions of contraception. Creampie. owning/claiming kink. overstimulation. 18+
Masterlist| Requests are open| Navigation
You stood in Spencer’s hotel room, filled with anger. Spencer had made it clear he didn’t want to be in a relationship with you, you had also seen him happily flirting with other women. So, why did he have a problem with you flirting with a man who was very clearly into you.
 
“Spencer, last time I checked you didn’t want to be in a relationship with me. So, you do not get to tell other men to back off when they are flirting with me.” You stated through gritted teeth.
 
Spencer's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching as he absorbed your words. His silence was heavy, thick with the tension that hung between you. The room seemed to shrink, suffocating you both in a cloud of unresolved emotions.
 
Finally, he spoke, his voice laced with a mix of frustration and possessiveness. "It's different, okay? I mean... I didn't think you'd actually go out and find someone else so quickly," he muttered, his gaze avoiding yours.
 
Anger surged within you at his audacity. "Oh, so it's all about your ego then? You want me to pine away for you while you have your fun? Newsflash, Spencer, I have needs too. I deserve to be happy."
 
His eyes flickered with regret before hardening again. "I never said you didn't deserve to be happy," he rebutted defensively.
 
Your voice dripped with sarcasm. "Right. So, when I find happiness elsewhere, you suddenly have a problem with it? Sounds like double standards to me, Spencer."
 
Spencer's face flushed with frustration, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "It's not about double standards," he argued, his voice growing louder. "I just... I didn't expect to feel this way. Seeing you with someone else, it hurts."
 
“Oh, but you didn’t think how I would feel seeing you flirting with other people. God why is everything always about you?” you sighed; frustration etched into every line on your face. Spencer's words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the tumultuous nature of your relationship.
 
Spencer walked over to you, his steps measured and deliberate. He reached out, gently cupping your face in his hands. The touch sent shivers down your spine, a reminder of the undeniable chemistry that had drawn you together in the first place.
 
“Not everything is about me. But I can’t let what’s mine flirt with somebody else.” Spencer's words hung in the air. Your breath caught in your throat as his words hung in the air, an intoxicating mixture of possessiveness and longing. The intensity of his gaze locked you in place, his touch branding your skin, igniting a flicker of desire deep within you.
 
“Spencer, you don’t get to say that anymore.” You tried to pull away from his grasp, but his grip tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh. The pain shot through you, mingling with the remnants of anger and desire that swirled in your veins.
 
"I do get to say it," he growled, his voice thick with a mix of dominance and desperation. "Because no matter what we've said or done, I can't shake this feeling that you're mine."
 
Your heart pounded in your chest, torn between the conflicting emotions swirling within you. Spencer's possessiveness was suffocating, but a part of you couldn't deny the thrill it ignited deep in your core. The intensity of his gaze held you captive, melting your resolve with every passing second.
 
But you refused to let him dictate your happiness any longer. With a surge of strength, you wrenched yourself free from his grip, stepping back and putting some distance between you. The pain lingered on your skin where his fingers had dug into you, a stark reminder of the toxicity that had seeped into your relationship.
 
"No, Spencer," you said firmly, your voice trembling but resolute. "I am not yours to claim. I deserve freedom, happiness, and someone who respects me enough to let me make my own choices."
 
His face contorted with a mix of anger and hurt; his breathing ragged as he struggled to regain control. "You don't understand," he spat out, his voice dripping with venom. "I've never felt this way about anyone before. You're all I think about, all I want. And you're just throwing it away for some cheap fling."
 
"No, Spencer," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. "This is not a cheap fling. This is me reclaiming my worth and refusing to settle for less than I deserve."
 
"You're mine," he repeated, his voice filled with a mixture of desperation and frustration. “You’ll always be mine. You’ve just got to accept it.”
 
Spencer’s lips than found themselves on yours. You wanted to protest, to pull away from the kiss. But you couldn’t, this is all you ever wanted. You just wanted Spencer, and you knew you were just flirting with that officer to see if Spencer would get jealous.
 
The kiss was electric, a collision of passion and longing that left you breathless. Spencer's lips moved against yours with a fervour that mirrored the tumultuous emotions swirling inside both of you. As his hands roamed your body, igniting a fire that had never fully extinguished, you couldn't help but succumb to the seductive pull of his touch.
 
Spencer's lips curled into a predatory smile, sensing your surrender. His grip tightened even further, bordering on painful, but you found yourself oddly drawn to the discomfort, craving the mix of pleasure and pain that only he seemed capable of providing.
 
You melted into his touch, your body responding eagerly to his every command. The familiar dance of dominance and submission played out between you, the lines blurring as pleasure mingled with the lingering pain from his earlier grip.
 
Spencer pulled away from the kiss, his lips brushed against your ear as he whispered darkly, "You may think you're your own person, but deep down, you know it's different between us."
 
Your heart raced in your chest, conflicted, and torn between the intoxicating desire that Spencer ignited within you and the boundaries you were determined to set. His words sank deep into your subconscious, stirring a primal need to surrender to him completely.
 
“I’m yours Spencer, I’ll forever be yours.” The words slipped out before you could fully comprehend them, a whisper of submission that hung heavily in the air. Spencer's eyes widened with a mix of surprise and triumph, his lips curling into a satisfied smile. His hold on you tightened possessively, his fingers digging into your flesh as if marking you as his territory.
 
Spencer's triumphant smile sent chills down your spine, a mix of excitement and trepidation coursing through your veins. The possessiveness in his touch both thrilled and frightened you, but the undeniable connection between you made it difficult to resist.
 
Spencer’s hand found their way to your shirt, his fingers undoing the buttons slowly, revealing the vulnerable flesh beneath. His touch was both deliberate and tender, his gaze never leaving yours as he explored every inch of your exposed skin.
 
As the fabric fell away, exposing your bare chest to the cool air, Spencer's eyes darkened with desire. His fingers traced a path of fire along your collarbone, down your abdomen, until they reached the waistband of your pants. With a quick flick of his wrist, he unbuttoned them, his touch igniting a trail of need that burned through you.
 
You could feel the hunger radiating from him, a primal urge that matched your own. There was no denying the raw connection between you, no matter how toxic it may have become. It was a dance, an intoxicating game of power and surrender that neither of you could resist.
 
Spencer's lips found yours once again, claiming you with a ferocity that left you breathless. The kiss was a maelstrom of passion and possessiveness, fuelling the fire that raged within both of you. His hands explored every inch of your exposed skin, igniting a trail of desire that consumed you both.
 
As his lips trailed down your neck, leaving a fiery path in their wake, your mind struggled to reconcile the conflicting emotions raging within. Sensation mingled with uncertainty; pleasure intertwined with doubt. But in that moment, none of it mattered. All that existed was the intoxicating connection between you and Spencer.
 
You hadn’t realised but Spencer was pushing you towards the bed, his touch guiding you with an intensity that made your heart race. The sheets beckoned, a sanctuary where the turmoil of your relationship could be momentarily forgotten. As you sank into the softness, surrendering to the desires that consumed you both, the world outside ceased to exist.
 
Spencer's eyes held yours, filled with a mixture of hunger and adoration. Each movement, each touch, was a delicate balance between dominance and tenderness, awakening a whirlwind of emotions within you. His hands roamed your body with a possessiveness that both thrilled and terrified you, igniting a fire that threatened to consume everything in its path.
 
The air brimmed with anticipation as Spencer lowered himself beside you on the bed, his body radiating heat. Your souls seemed intertwined, bound by an unspoken understanding that surpassed words. His lips found your neck once again, leaving a trail of kisses that sent waves of pleasure coursing through your veins.
 
With a gentle touch, he traced a path down your body, leaving a trail of heat in his wake. His lips worshipped at every inch of your skin, leaving no part untouched by his fervent desire.
 
As Spencer's lips trailed lower, his hands followed suit, caressing your thighs with a tender touch that made every nerve ending tingle. The anticipation built with each passing second, the air heavy with desire and the promise of unbridled pleasure.
 
Spencer's eyes met yours, you knew he was asking for consent, but you could sense he was asking for redemption. You hesitated for a moment, caught between the allure of surrender and the boundaries you were determined to set. The toxic history of your relationship with Spencer tugged at the edges of your mind, warning you of the potential consequences of giving in to his desires once more.
 
But as you looked into his eyes, you saw a glimmer of vulnerability beneath the seductive gaze. It was a plea for redemption, an unspoken promise that this time would be different. And so, with a mix of trepidation and newfound hope, you nodded, granting him the consent he sought.
 
Without hesitation, he lowered his head, his hot breath grazing against your sensitive flesh. His tongue delved between your folds, exploring, and tasting every inch as if committing it to memory. Waves of pleasure crashed over you, each lick and suck sending shockwaves through your body.
 
The intensity built with every passing second, reaching a crescendo that threatened to consume you entirely. Your fingers threaded through Spencer's hair, urging him closer, deeper. He responded with a primal growl against your skin, intensifying the sensations coursing through you. His mouth became a vortex of pleasure, his tongue expertly tracing patterns that drove you to the edge and back again.
 
You were lost in a symphony of ecstasy, the boundaries of pleasure and pain blurring as Spencer pushed you further towards the edge. His touch was both tender and possessive, his tongue exploring every inch of your intimate depths with a voracious hunger that left no doubt of his intentions.
 
The room filled with your gasps and moans; the air heavy with the scent of desire. Spencer's fingers joined in the dance, tracing maddening circles on your swollen bud, coaxing you closer to the precipice. The tension built within you, coiling tightly like a spring ready to snap.
 
And just when you thought you couldn't take any more, he plunged two fingers inside you, filling you completely. The sensation sent shockwaves through your body, pleasure spiraling outwards from the depths of your core. Your back arched off the bed involuntarily as he expertly curled his fingers, hitting that sweet spot that had always driven you wild.
 
The world faded away as pleasure engulfed you, every touch from Spencer a symphony of ecstasy that echoed through your body. The boundaries you had set were shattered in the wake of the pleasure he provided, replaced by an insatiable hunger for more. Your mind became clouded with desire as he continued his relentless assault on your senses, pushing you closer to the edge of oblivion.
 
Spencer's movements grew more intense, his fingers plunging deeper inside you, as if he was determined to claim every inch of your being. The room filled with the sounds of your ragged breaths, mingled with his low growls of satisfaction. The intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure heightened your arousal, blurring the lines between reality and fantasy.
 
As the waves of pleasure crashed over you, each crest stronger than the last, you surrendered completely to the intoxicating abyss. Your body writhed beneath Spencer's touch, aching for release as he skilfully brought you to the precipice of ecstasy.
 
The tension built within you, coiling tightly like a spring ready to snap. The room filled with your gasps and moans; the air heavy with the scent of desire. Spencer's fingers joined in the dance, tracing maddening circles on your swollen bud, coaxing you closer to the precipice. The intensity grew with every passing moment, until you were teetering on the edge of an explosive climax.
 
Just as you were about to tip over into blissful release, Spencer withdrew his fingers, leaving you panting, throbbing, and desperate for more. A whimper of frustration escaped your lips as he grinned wickedly above you. His eyes gleamed with a mixture of satisfaction and mischief.
 
"Patience," he whispered huskily, his voice dripping with promises of pleasure yet to come.
 
You watched as Spencer slowly shed his clothes, revealing every inch of his sculpted body. Your breath hitched at the sight, desire coursing through your veins like a wildfire. The hunger in his eyes mirrored your own, igniting a primal need that threatened to consume you both.
 
With a predatory grace, he prowled towards you, his gaze never leaving yours. The weight of his presence filled the room, intoxicating and overwhelming. As he reached the edge of the bed, his hands moved to grip your hips possessively, his touch searing into your skin.
 
"I want to taste every inch of you," Spencer growled, his voice dripping with raw desire. His words sent shivers down your spine, anticipation coiling tightly in the pit of your stomach.
 
His lips crashed against yours again, a fierce kiss that left no doubt of his intentions. His tongue tangled with yours in a dance as old as time, exploring and staking claim to every corner of your mouth. The taste of him was intoxicating, a heady combination of desire and something deeper, something that spoke of a connection that went beyond the physical.
 
Spencer's hands roamed your body, leaving trails of fire in their wake. He traced the curve of your waist, the swell of your breasts, as if he were memorizing every inch of you. His touch was possessive, but tender, an embodiment of the conflicting emotions that filled both your hearts.
 
With a deft motion, Spencer pushed himself up so that he hovered above you. His eyes bore into yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. There was a hunger there, but also a vulnerability - a vulnerability that mirrored your own.
He leaned down, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispered, "I want to show you how much I love you." His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning and the weight of past mistakes.
 
In that moment, you saw the truth in his eyes. His words weren't just empty promises, but a genuine declaration of love and desire. The toxic history between you and Spencer had been a tumultuous journey, filled with heartache and pain. But now, in this moment, there was a glimmer of hope, a chance for redemption.
 
You took a deep breath, allowing yourself to let go of the past and embrace the present. With a surge of courage, you reached up and cupped his face in your hands, pulling him closer to you. The taste of his lips ignited a fire within you, fuelling your hunger for him.
 
Spencer's hands roamed your body with a renewed passion, his touch setting your skin ablaze. Every caress was filled with purpose, a testament to the depths of his desire for you. You surrendered yourself completely to him, allowing him to explore every inch of your being.
 
As the world around you faded away, it was just the two of you locked in an intimate dance of love and lust. The room seemed to disappear as you and Spencer became lost in each other. Every touch, every kiss, was a testament to the fire that burned between you.
 
His hands moved over your body with a reverence that spoke of the love he had for you. With each caress, he worshipped every curve and every inch of your skin. It was as though he wanted to memorize every detail, etching it into his memory forever.
 
You felt adored under his touch, cherished in a way you had never experienced before. It was intoxicating, the way he made you feel desired, beautiful, and wanted. In his embrace, you found solace and passion intertwining, creating a powerful connection that surpassed mere physicality.
 
The heat between you grew with each passing moment, igniting a hunger that consumed every fibber of your being. Spencer's lips trailed along your neck, leaving a trail of fiery kisses in their wake. His breath was warm against your skin as he whispered words of love and longing, his voice husky with desire. You shivered under his touch, the anticipation building to a fever pitch.
 
With a fluid motion, Spencer eased himself inside you, filling you completely. The connection between you was electric, a fusion of bodies and souls coming together in a moment of exquisite pleasure. His movements were deliberate and measured, each thrust taking you closer to the edge of ecstasy.
 
Your hands clung to his back, nails digging into his skin as waves of pleasure coursed through your body. Every stroke, every collision of flesh against flesh sent shockwaves of delight rippling through your veins. The symphony of your moans and sighs mingled with his own grunts of pleasure, creating a harmony that echoed through the room.
 
The rhythm between you intensified, your bodies moving in perfect synchrony. You lost yourself in the dance, surrendering to the primal urge that consumed you both. The world around you ceased to exist as pleasure became your only reality.
 
Spencer's thrusts grew faster and more urgent, each one driving you closer to the edge of rapture. The room echoed with the sounds of your bodies colliding, a symphony of raw desire and ecstasy. The air crackled with tension as you both chased that elusive release, the anticipation building to a crescendo.
 
Your senses were heightened, every touch from Spencer igniting fireworks within you. His hands roamed your body with a possessiveness that left no doubt of his devotion. You could feel the intensity in his movements, his need to bring you to the pinnacle of pleasure.
 
As his lips claimed yours once more, you felt that familiar coil of desire tighten within you. It was as if the whole universe had condensed into this moment, this connection between two souls hungry for each other. Spencer's name escaped your lips like a prayer, mingling with gasps and moans.
 
With each thrust, you soared higher, teetering on the edge of an explosive release. The intensity of Spencer's touch, combined with the overwhelming love and longing between you, sent your body into a frenzy of pleasure. The world around you blurred into a haze as your senses heightened, every nerve ending electrified.
 
Spencer's movements became more desperate, his thrusts reaching a fevered pace. He was so close, as were you. With each collision of your bodies, it felt like an eruption of pure bliss was just within reach.
 
Your eyes locked, the connection between you unbreakable. There was an unspoken understanding in that moment, a shared desire to push each other past the limits of ecstasy. You wanted to give him everything, to show him how much you loved him.
 
As if sensing your thoughts, Spencer's grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh. His breath mingled with yours in ragged gasps as he whispered words of love and devotion against your skin.
 
Your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, the symphony of your moans and the sound of skin on skin echoing through the room. The tension that had built between you was unraveled in that moment, as you both gave yourselves completely to the pleasure that surged through your bodies.
 
Time seemed to stand still as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over you. You clung to each other, lost in the intense pleasure that consumed every inch of your being. The room filled with the sounds of your cries and moans, a symphony of passion and desire.
 
As your climax approached, you felt a surge of warmth intertwine with the pleasure coursing through you. It wasn't just physical release anymore; it was something deeper, something that transcended the boundaries of mere pleasure. It was a connection forged in love and vulnerability, a sacred bond between two souls.
 
In that final moment, bliss washed over you like a tidal wave. Your bodies trembled and convulsed together, locked in an embrace that defied explanation. It was an explosion of sensation and emotion that left you breathless and sated. The world seemed to fade away as you clung to each other, riding out the aftershocks of pleasure.
 
As your breathing slowed and your heart rates steadied, you remained tangled in each other's arms, basking in the aftermath of your passion. This moment, this connection, felt so different from anything you had experienced before. It was more than just the physical act; it was an affirmation of your love for one another.
 
Spencer pressed gentle kisses against your forehead, his touch filled with tenderness and adoration. You could feel his chest rise and fall against yours, the rhythm of his heartbeat echoing in perfect harmony with your own. The room was filled with a blissful silence, a peaceful sanctuary created by your union.
 
In the tranquil aftermath, you and Spencer lay entwined, bodies still humming with the echoes of pleasure. Your fingers traced lazy patterns along his bare chest, revelling in the warmth that radiated between you. The weight of his arm draped across your waist provided a comforting reassurance, grounding you in the reality of your newfound connection.
 
As the room filled with hushed whispers and soft sighs, you marvelled at the journey that had led you both to this moment. The toxic history that had once plagued your relationship now seemed like a distant memory, overshadowed by the raw love and desire that now bound you together.
 
Spencer shifted slightly, his lips brushing against your temple in a tender kiss. His breath danced against your skin as he whispered words of affection, promising to cherish and protect what you had created. With each gentle word, he washed away any lingering doubts or fears, replacing them with a deep sense of security and belonging.
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shanastoryteller · 2 months
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Happy Valentines Day Shana!! 💕💕 Sybok and Jim contiuation? I wanna see more of Sybok teasing the shit out of Spock for his oblivious crush
a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8
It's rude to speak in a language not everyone present speaks, however Sybok became immune to social niceties around the time his father stopped bringing him to official functions. He switches to High Vulcan to say, "We can tell her I picked you up off an Orion slave ship."
Uhura's right eye twitches.
"She can understand you," Jimmy says. "She's a xenolinguist."
Bones's eyes narrow. He's so much more indignant in person than in the background of Jimmy's video calls. "What are you going on about now? I hate when you do this. I always feel like you're planning how to dispose of my body."
Jimmy had told him that Bones had started studying Vulcan. He'd also told him that he was incredibly bad at it, but not everyone can be Jimmy, which was realistically probably for the best.
He drops down to standard Vulcan to say, "Ah, so you have a talented tongue," since there's really no way to say that in High Vulcan that's a double entendre. It doesn't help that most of their potentially risque phrases are hand rather than mouth oriented, but he's learned to make do.
Spock turns an unhealthy shade of pale as his eyes widen the tiniest amount in abject horror.
Uhura raises her eyebrow in a way that reminds him of his brother. "To master a language is the study of a lifetime. I would be most appreciative if you were to give me a hand in achieving this endeavor."
Spock's skin flushes and he looks around like he's seriously considering running away from this conversation.
Sybok is delighted.
"Uhurua!" Jimmy shouts, hands on his hips. "Come on! I say that to you and you don't even let me buy you a drink, but you'll just proposition Sybok in the middle of the hallway?"
"She did what?" Bones hisses.
That is one possible interpretation of her words.
"I might have gotten around to propositioning you too," she says, "if you hadn't gotten your ass beat."
"Okay, I think I did okay, actually," Jimmy argues while Bones's face morphs into an expression eerily similar to Spock's.
He loves Earth.
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byooregard · 18 days
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x men tumblr dashboard simulator
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bluebabadee
THIS BLOG IS A SAFE SPACE FOR NON-HUMAN PASSING MUTANTS. HUMAN PASSING MUTANTS DNI
10 notes 📌Pinned Post
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sparklejays Follow
based on your likes!
every time I see a human talking about "how cool it would be to have superpowers" or some shit like that I loose it a little bit more. do these people realize that being a mutant isn't just fun powers. like even beyond the shit I deal with trying to get jobs or all the relationships that have been ruined once people realized I'm a mutant. abilities aren't just fun and games, I have a friend who can't touch people without nearly killing them, I burned down three buildings before someone finally taught me to control my abilities, and these people are all like "wouldn't it be great to fly to work every day??" just admit that you see us as comic book characters and not real people with real struggles
#actually mutant #jay .txt
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scamperpamperblog reblogged spocktism
🏙️tilleys-brain Follow
self diagnosing is great and all but most of you people aren't telepaths, you're just hyperempathic
#actually mutant #actually telepathic #hyperempathy #crosstagging i know but some of yall need to see this #tilley speaks #it can be dangerous to go around acting like you know peopels actual thoughts when its just your brain
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oh-you-pretty-things
.
#vent post #sometimes I get really mad at magneto #like I think he's done a lot for mutant rights and stuff #but I'm so fucking tired of everyone assuming that I'm evil just because of my powers #like jesus not all of us are trying to start atomic wars #some metallokinetics just use their abilities to make cool sculptures #but I can't get a spoon from across the room in front of strangers without someone mentioning jfk
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mutantbuffy reblogged muntantpollscentral
🩻mutantpollscentral
*physical mutation meaning something that is ALWAYS physical, not just something you can turn off and on whenever
#ig my mutation IS technically physical its just not visible to people most of the time so i feel weird claiming that #but like i was born with the tattoo marks #the powers didnt come till later tho #so idk which to pick
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sploimsh reblogged jesterjuleses
🎹pussy-truck-faggot
HEY! shout-out to people with *weird* mutations. Mutations that don't look cool, mutations that are gross, mutations that are dirty, mutations that you can't tell people about because they always cringe. You're just as valid as every other mutant out there. Your powers don't need to be palettable to humans for you to be treated with respect.
#THIS!!! #rb
5,678 notes
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rosetvler
god i am so tired of the hypocrisy in this community. the double standards are insane. its okay to have 'scary' powers but the moment someone's abilities are scarier than like, pyrokinesis you're evil and dangerous to be around. 'acceptance' for you people only means nice mutants who've never hurt or scared anyone ever.
rosetvler reblogged rosetvler
non-mutants can reblog this btw
#srb #actually mutant #getting real tired of this
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katiedidnt reblogged morelikesexmen
🩻magicsteele27 Follow
okay like. i get that were all about acceptance and pride or w/e but no one in this tag has ever had friends irl i swear. if someone asks you not to read their mind you shouldnt. honestly you shouldnt be using telepathy on people at all without their permission. mutant abilities dont disclude you from respecting peoples boundaries
🌌rosetvler Mutuals
i swear to god you people are such hypocrites. its all 'mutant and proud' until someone has a power you dont like. its always about keeping the humans feeling comfortable instead of thinking about how it feels to never use your powers because theyre breaking 'boundaries' that were made up by humans in the first place
🩻magicsteele27 Follow
dude do you hear yourself right now
🎆jade-the-pyromancer Follow
Hey, I like your point op, but maybe you should stop trying to speak over actual telepaths and let them decide how to use their powers themselves???
🩻magicsteele27 Follow
i. i am a telepath.
#duddeeee telepaths are insane #used to be friends with one SO glad i broke that off before it went too bad
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ramspatula · 6 months
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Georgie Cooper x Reader| Jealousy
I really love these…
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Georgie was the frustrating kind to date. He always flirted with other girls but hates for another guy to even come close to me. It was hard. He didn't understand why it was upsetting to me that he flirted with other girls but could get heavily upset when I even showed another guy a smidge of attention. Georgie Cooper didn't understand what a double standard was, but he could be used as one. He can flirt with other girls but I can't flirt with other guys. He keeps saying it's different. How is it different?!
Y/n: How is it weird?
Georgie: It just is!
Y/n: That Rob invited me over to his house to work on our project?
Georgie: You don't know what he's gonna try on you.
Y/n: Try on me? And how am I supposed to react to you going round Jessica's house for your two's project?
Georgie: That's different. She's not a guy and I'm happily taken.
Y/n: Rob has a girlfriend and she's okay with it. I even spoke to her myself!
Georgie: I heard they've been having problems and you're a very pretty girl, he might make a move on you instead.
Y/n: And she's not pretty?
Georgie: Not as pretty as you- don't roll your eyes. I'm complimenting you!
Y/n: It's not a compliment if you degrade another girl while doing it.
Georgie: "Degrade"? We're using big words now?
Y/n: You're putting her down to make me look good.
Georgie: And? Her boyfriend trying it on with another girl!
Y/n: Rob is not trying it on with me! What? Is Jessica trying it on with you?!
Georgie: Don't think so. Even if it wouldn't matter because I would choose you over her any day.
Y/n: So why does it matter with Rob? You know I would never do something like that to you.
Georgie: A guy can push a girl off easier than a girl can push a guy off.
Y/n: That's not always true.
Georgie: Most of the time.
Y/n: Georgie please!
Georgie: No! I won't let it happen. I won't leave you alone with him.
Y/n: Then join us!
Georgie: Fine.
I don't get the double standard! I'm trying my hardest and I just don't get it! Throughout our relationship we've had bumps that always involves other girls and Georgie's dim brain. He never understood what he did wrong and sometimes I needed time away from him.
George: What's wrong with you?
Georgie: Y/n yelled and threw her bag at me.
George: Why?
Georgie: Apparently I was flirting with this girl and being 'inconsiderate'. I don't even know what that means.
George: It means you're not thinking of her feelings and how treating another girl the way you treat her is out of line.
Georgie: Really but I only want her. She's my girlfriend.
George: Treat her like it then!
Georgie: Okay! I will, don't yell at me.
Georgie: Seems it's the only way to get it inside that head of yours.
I went to Connie with almost everything. I didn't see my mother often and we weren't that close because of it. Connie seemed to be the only one who listened.
Connie: What's wrong with you?
Y/n: What's wrong with your grandson?
Connie: Where do you want to start? The fact he used to bang his head against the wall when he needed an idea?
Y/n: That's a good start but I was thinking about his stupidity and tendency to flirt with other girls.
Connie: Right in there, okay.
Y/n: He called me dramatic.
Connie: When was this?
Y/n: About 10 minutes ago when I threw my bag into his face.
Connie: Did he get hurt?
Y/n: Don't think so.
Connie: Shame. Should've broke his nose, could've taught him.
Y/n: I've been thinking about it.
Connie: So what was her name?
Y/n: Jessica. His project partner who has a very obvious crush on him. I mean so obvious that her friend told me to "watch out" and Georgie is just feeding into it.
Connie: Does he know that?
Y/n: Can't remember if I told him before or after I threw my bag at him.
Connie: He deserved it. Don't feel bad.
Y/n: Is it bad that I do?
Connie: Sort of. That's why you keep forgiving him.
Y/n: Maybe but that's because he keeps-
Georgie: Y/n I know you're in there! Please! I wanna apologise and I got you something!
Y/n: -doing shit like that.
Connie: Go talk to him. I don't wanna keep hearing his whining on my porch.
He always had this soppy way of apologising.
Georgie: I am very sorry for my actions and it was wrong of me to ever speak to Jessica the way I speak to you. I only want to be with you and I love you more than anyone or anything! I even got you these flowers because you said you were sad that you never got them growing up which shows that I do listen to you and care about what you say! And I-
Y/n: Georgie, enough. I forgive you. I just want you to stop with the excessive flirting especially with girls that have a thing for you, it's not fair for them.
Georgie: She had a thing for me? I didn't know that.
Y/n: I told you that.
Georgie: When?
Y/n: During the argument.
Georgie: You see I was trying to dodge this bag that was being hurled at me and then I was busy getting hit by said bag so really it's the bag's fault I didn't know.
Y/n: Whatever, blame the bag.
Georgie: Can I give you some attention now please?
Y/n: Yes, just get off your Meemaw's porch before she throws her bag at you too.
Georgie kept apologising in this way until present day. Even with us now in our forties and 4 kids, a successful tire business and big house. George Cooper Jr still apologised in the same way after every argument. On his knees with some gift or his pride in his hands and I still accepted because he never had any bad intentions towards me and he'd do anything to fix his or my problems.
George(Jr): You are my gorgeous wife and I made a promise to never hurt you in anyway and I've made you upset which is unacceptable. I realise my mistake and I want you to know that I will do anything to fix this just tell me how to fix it. I promise I will try harder with the twins-
Y/n: George...
George: Yes?
Y/n: Just don't lie to the twins again. I won't take the blame for you messing up their lunch again. You know Liam hates jam sandwiches.
George: He's such a picky eater, I can't keep up with all of it!
Y/n: George...
George: Right! No excuses. I'm sorry my beautiful wife, I won't do it again. I love you very much.
Y/n: Good. Now get off your knees I know they're killing, old man.
George: Thank you so much, they were about to give out.
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Please tell me you guys like these…
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callsign-mayhem · 16 days
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heartbreak feels so good (part 1)
Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader Word count: 8081 CW: Shitty boyfriends, angst, fluff, slow burn.
Your boyfriend's callsign is Viper, which is fitting. Bradley doesn't know how much longer he can watch this man destroy you, but luckily for him, he doesn't have to wait too long.
Use of Y/N, but no description of reader. THIS IS A MULTI-PART FIC.
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After another day of having your feelings totally ignored by your boyfriend, you were looking forward to some alone time. Elijah was so hot and cold that you felt as though you were in a constant state of fight or flight, just waiting for him to either make your day or ruin it completely. Most of the time, it was the latter, and although good days with him were few and far between, they were enough to make you stay. See, you didn’t half-ass anything—least of all relationships—so when you were in something, you were in it. You told Elijah that much after your first date. You’d been sitting in the front of his beemer eating ice cream, having the first of many deep talks. Between sweet, sticky kisses, you’d told him that you were dating to marry. He told you he was, too. 
He said, ‘I’m yours if you’ll have me, Y/N.’ And that was that.
And it was almost a year ago. You’d survived a somewhat tumultuous winter with him, desperately trying to cling on to the version of him he’d been during the summer. As time went on, he stopped putting his mask on, secure enough in your relationship that he no longer felt the need to pretend to be caring and considerate. The days were starting to get longer, and the weather was warming up again, but Elijah was so far from the man he was at the start that you might as well have been in a relationship with a different person. Every morning, you woke up with no idea what personality to expect that day, whether or not he was going to take all his personal drama out on you, even though you only ever loved and supported him. 
Today had been one of those days, and as you finished up with the F-18 engine currently in pieces in front of you, you silently prayed that he wouldn’t text you asking to come over. He was also a naval aviator, but you were working on different parts of the base today. Thank God. Elijah’s callsign was Viper, fitting since vipers prey on small animals by envenomating them and watching them die slowly. 
Coyote appeared behind you, helmet tucked underneath his arm.
‘Hey, we’re all heading to The Hard Deck for beers,’ he told you. ‘You comin’?’ You grabbed a rag and made an attempt to wipe some of the oil off. ‘I don’t know,’ you sighed. ‘I want to, but then I’ll have to bring Elijah, and I don’t really wanna see him tonight.’ ‘Why do you have to bring him?’ Coyote frowned. ‘He’s a lousy drunk and never lets you have any fun.’ ‘If he finds out I went out with all you guys, he’ll think I’m up to something.’ ‘Like gettin’ with me?’ He joked, wiggling his eyebrows. ‘Probably,’ you laughed. ‘You or one of the others. Or maybe he’ll accuse me of getting with all of you if he’s in a particularly bad mood.’ ‘Listen, if you wanna come, you’re welcome. We’ll just make sure nobody posts about it, and we’ll get you a fake moustache or somethin’.’
It broke your heart to think about all your closest friends having a fun night without you. Over the past year, you’d lost count of the amount of experiences you’d missed out on because you didn’t want to make Elijah upset or angry with you. The worst part was it was a double standard. He went out without you all the time, didn’t tell you where he’d gone or who he was with, and expected you to be okay with it. If you weren’t, you could kiss your peace goodbye; he’d spend the next week making your life a living hell, ignoring you entirely until you apologised to him for being hurt by his actions.
‘You know what Javy? Count me in.’ He grinned. ‘Thatta girl.’ 
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It was hard to regret coming out when you felt this good. It had been months since you’d gone on a night out without Elijah, which was to say it had been months since you last enjoyed yourself. As you sipped your second sex on the beach, you mused that some kind of higher power must have been looking out for you because you’d yet to receive a single text from your boyfriend. Most of the time, when you spent the night apart, he’d call you incessantly. It was annoying, sometimes bordering on obsessive, and you didn’t need him to tell you he was checking on you, or rather, checking that you were alone in your apartment. That much was obvious. 
Dating an insecure man was not for the weak.
You were sat at one of the high tables next to the window watching Jake, Mickey, Javy, and Reuben play pool. Nat was opposite nursing a beer, glowing in the golden light of the evening. Her phone buzzed, and she picked it up, smiling at the notification. 
‘Rooster’s on his way,’ she told you. ‘He wasn’t gonna come out tonight, but I told him he didn’t have a choice. It’s not every day Y/N Y/L/N leaves the comfort of her apartment.’ You scoffed. ‘That’s not exactly how I’d put it.’ ‘No?’ Nat raised a brow. 
You hadn’t drunk in months, and despite only being on your second drink, the booze had loosened your lips significantly. 
‘No. It’s not that I’d rather stay home, it’s that staying home makes my life easier because then I don’t have Elijah breathing down my fucking neck.’
Little did you know, Javy had told everyone about your conversation earlier. Not because he was a gossip but because he was worried about you. It was rare for you to open up to the squad about your relationship, but it wasn’t hard to guess what happened behind closed doors. They all worked with Viper, for one, and they were familiar with his temperament. Not only that, but you dropped off the face of the Earth a few months after you started dating him, and it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. 
‘I don’t know why you’re still with him, Y/N. He’s an ass.’ ‘I know,’ you sighed, frowning into your drink. ‘It’s just not as straightforward as just leaving. I still love him. If I can make this work, I don’t have to start all over again with someone else.’ Nat nodded in understanding. ‘I get wanting to make it work, but at what cost? You don’t see your friends, and he uses you as an emotional punching bag. You can’t even come to the beach with us without him checking on you every five minutes,’ she reached over the table and took your hand. ‘He’s killing you.’
This was the first time someone had spoken their mind to you about the situation. While you already knew all of it, hearing it from one of your best friends hit home. Vodka made you emotional, and if not for Bradley, you would have broken down there and then. 
He walked up to the table and engulfed you in a hug, practically pulling you off your stool. You pressed your face into his shirt, inhaling the scent of clean cotton and sandalwood. Half expecting Elijah to spring out and catch you in the act, you reluctantly pulled away. 
‘Hey, Bradley.’ ‘Hey yourself, stranger. Can’t believe you’re gracing us with your presence.’ ‘I know, it’s been a while.’ ‘A while? Try six months,’ he glanced at your almost empty glass and Nat’s empty bottle of Heineken. ‘Can I buy you lovely ladies a drink?’ ‘Do you even have to ask?’ Nat retorted.  ‘What’re you drinking, darlin’?’ He asked you. You smiled sheepishly. ‘Sex on the beach.’  ‘I can make that happen.’ He smirked.
Luckily, you didn’t have to come up with a response to that remark because he turned around and headed to the bar. You locked eyes with Nat, and both of you burst out laughing.
Just like that, all the negativity you’d been feeling dissipated like rain against hot tarmac. 
Bradley came back with the drinks, and the three of you took the opportunity to catch up while the others finished their pool game. You shouldn’t have been as surprised as you were to find out that you’d missed a lot. Bradley had started dating one of the medics, but the relationship had crashed and burned almost immediately. He hadn’t bothered trying to meet anyone else since. Nat, after watching all her friends have such bad experiences in the dating world, had decided she was better off alone. 
‘Honestly, I don’t blame you.’ You told her. ‘You should dump Viper,’ she said with a devilish grin. ‘And we can have a hot girl summer.’ Bradley laughed. ‘Can’t say I ever imagined you saying that, Nix.’  ‘Isn’t that what it’s called now? We can’t be that out of touch, surely.’ ‘I don’t wanna think about how old I am.’ You said, picking up your phone to see if you’d missed any texts from Elijah. You hated to think what kind of argument missing one of his calls would start.  Nat and Rooster shared a knowing look. ‘It rings, you know? Out loud.’
Being this transparent was embarrassing. 
‘I think I’m going to confiscate this for now.’ Ignoring your protests, Bradley swiped your phone and tucked it into his pocket. ‘If he calls or texts, I’ll let you know.’
You were tipsy enough not to try and take your phone back but not tipsy enough to be unbothered by the idea of Elijah calling and you not picking up.
‘If he calls, I need it back straight away,’ you told him sternly. ‘If I don’t pick up, I’ll never hear the end of it.’
Bradley rolled his eyes, but you knew it wasn’t aimed at you. He hated Elijah the most of all your friends. Perhaps sensing some tension, Nat slid off her stool and grabbed your arm, practically yanking you off yours.
‘Let’s go pick a song,’ she suggested. ‘We can get more drinks on the way back.’
Since it had been so long since you last visited The Hard Deck, she let you choose. You picked Rebel Yell by Billy Idol, your mum’s favourite. Admittedly, you’d been missing your home town a lot more than usual lately, perhaps because you were in such a weird place mentally. Things must be worse than you thought if you were considering running home with your tail between your legs. 
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As the night went on, you got drunker and drunker. Bradley watched with a bemused grin as you dragged Bob off to the jukebox again, since he was the easiest person to coerce into doing things. How Bradley wished it was him you were clinging to. Not that he was jealous of Bob—because that would be like being jealous of a puppy—he just desperately wanted to be the object of your affection. 
While you and Bob went to change the music, Bradley struck up a conversation with Natasha and Reuben, who erupted into laughter when you pulled Bob’s arm so hard he almost toppled over. 
‘It’s nice to have Y/N out, huh?’ He observed. Nat looked at him like he was the biggest dickhead in the world. ‘Come on, Bradshaw. He might be an ass, but she’s got a boyfriend.’
Bradley sipped his beer, desperately trying to come up with a believable response. Reuben smirked knowingly, which only made Bradley more annoyed.
‘I don’t have a thing for Y/N.’ ‘Whatever helps you sleep at night, man.’ ‘Come on, Payback. You too?’ Reuben shrugged. ‘Doesn’t take a genius to work it out. You look at her like she’s God’s gift.’
The reason Bradley looked at you like you were God’s gift is because you were, but nobody was supposed to know that. 
‘Why do women stay with guys that treat them like shit?’ Bradley asked. ‘Depends on the woman,’ Natasha started. ‘But if you mean Y/N, it’s because she can’t do anything halfway. She told me earlier that it’s because she doesn’t want to start over with someone new, but I don’t think that’s it. She just loves so hard, and it takes a lot out of her. Why would she wanna start the process all over again if she already has someone?’ Bradley was incredulous. ‘Erm, I don’t know, maybe because he’s emotionally abusing her.’
You and Nat were close. In a way, she knew you better than you knew yourself, so she was the best person for Bradley to ask about things. Now, however, he was kind of regretting opening his mouth. Knowing why you were staying with a guy who treated you so badly didn’t make it easier to accept like Bradley thought it would; it only filled him with white-hot rage. 
‘It’s not as easy as just leaving. She has to come to it on her own.’ ‘Yeah,’ Reuben chimed in. ‘You can’t convince Y/N of shit.’ Natasha scoffed. ‘Yup, and believe me, I’ve tried.’  ‘So what, we just sit around and watch him ruin her?’ ‘Y/N’s a smart cookie and one of the strongest people I know. She’ll come to her senses, and when she does, we’ll be here.’ ‘You know, I read somewhere once that you can’t save anyone. You can only hold their hand while they save themselves.’ Nat raised a brow. ‘Damn, Payback. That might be the wisest thing you’ve ever said.’ ‘Hey, why do you sound so surprised?’ ‘You really want me to answer that?’
Bradley had a lot to think about. Realistically, he knew there was nothing he could do. His only option was to let things unfold naturally and have faith that things would work out exactly the way they were supposed to. The only problem was, that sounded too much like ‘sit back and do nothing,’ which didn’t feel right either. 
Bradley needed another drink. 
In fact, he was just about to head to the bar when you came bounding over, dragging poor Bob behind you. 
‘Roooooooooster.’ You cooed.
His heart just about melted when you started batting your eyelashes at him. 
‘What’s up, Y/CS?’
Everyone else was watching the interaction expectantly, waiting to hear what you were going to say next. 
‘You’re really pretty.’ Bradley laughed, hoping you were too drunk to notice the blush he could feel creeping across his cheeks. ‘Thank you. You’re really pretty, too.’ Nat, sensing the need to intervene, came around and gently grabbed your arm. ‘Hey, let’s get you a glass of water, huh?’ ‘But I need to tell Roo how pretty he looks.’
Bradley’s heart fluttered at your use of the pet name. He really didn’t want you to leave, but Nat was right. You needed some water and probably your bed. 
‘You told him already, Y/N. And when you get back, you can tell him again.’
She started leading you away, and Bradley immediately missed your presence. 
A very flushed-looking Bob took Nat’s empty stool. ‘That girl is somethin’ else.’ He murmured, pushing his glasses back up his nose. ‘I don’t think you should let her drink anymore.’ ‘I’m not her keeper,’ Bradley responded. ‘Can’t stop her from doing anything.’ Bob shrugged. ‘Maybe so, but you’re all she talked about. You and the fact that there’s no Fall Out Boy in the jukebox. Pretty sure she called it a ‘fucking tragedy.’’  Bradley leaned forward. ‘What did she say about me?’ ‘You know,’ Bob waved a hand dismissively. ‘You’re pretty. Her boyfriend is gonna kill her if he finds out she’s here with you because he thinks you have a thing for her.’ Bradley was at a loss for words. Reuben, however, was grinning like a fool. ‘What was that about not having a thing for her? Even her boyfriend’s caught on, man.’  ‘How many times do I have to say I do not have a thing for-’
An annoyingly loud ringing sound interrupted Bradley’s sentence. It didn’t sound like his ringtone, but the noise was coming from his pocket. It took him too long to remember that he had your phone in his pocket, and that it was probably Viper calling. Sure enough, when he took out your phone, he was greeted by a sickeningly sweet photo of you and your boyfriend on the beach. You and Nat were still at the bar, and he knew he should just let it ring so you could call him back later. 
But something had a hold of Bradley, and he answered the call and pressed the phone to his ear before he could really process what he was doing. 
‘Y/N’s phone.’ 
A beat of silence, then some of the most colourful language Bradley had ever heard in his life. 
‘Who the fuck is this, and why the fuck have you got my girlfriend’s phone?’  ‘Y/N can’t come to the phone right now. She’s at the bar with her friend, gettin’ another round of drinks, and I just know hearing your voice would ruin her night. It’s ruined mine, that’s for sure. If you want, I can take a message, and she’ll get back to you in the morning.’
Reuben was nearly on the floor, trying desperately not to laugh in case Viper heard him. Bob had paled significantly, like he’d seen a ghost—or worse. 
‘That you, Bradshaw? I just knew something was going on-’
Bradley hung up. The severity of the situation was beginning to hit, and despite the sick satisfaction he’d felt when he picked up the phone, he was regretting his decision already. 
‘Y/N is gonna kill you, Rooster.’ Bob told him. 
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Nat made the sensible decision to cut you off, but she said you could stay out with them until closing if you promised to keep drinking water and stop fucking around with the jukebox. That was how you ended up in the corner of a booth with Bradley next to you to stop you from escaping.
Not that you’d want to escape. 
Mickey had joined, and the guys were playing cards while you and Nat talked. She was catching you up on her life, and it made a change to think about someone other than Elijah for once.
That’s when it hit you.
You hadn’t checked your phone in hours, and you dreaded to think how many texts and calls you’d missed. 
‘Bradley, can I have my phone?’
He set his hand of cards down on the table and reached into his pocket. When you reached out to take it, he pulled away.
‘Before I give this to you, I need to tell you something.’
A wave of nausea hit you. 
‘What? What’s going on?’ ‘Viper called about an hour ago. You were at the bar, and I didn’t know what to do, so I answered it.’ Reuben leaned forward in his seat. ‘Oh, this is about to be good.’
You thought you knew what panic felt like, but up until this very moment, you had no idea. Bradley was lucky you didn’t throw up in his lap from the nerves.
‘What?’ ‘I’m sorry, Y/N. I wasn’t thinking-’
You snatched your phone from him, ignoring the kicked-puppy expression he was sporting. A slew of angry text messages that were borderline abusive greeted you. You skimmed them quickly, not wanting to read too many in case you started crying in front of the entire squad. 
What started out as the best night you’d had in a while quickly turned into the worst. Your boyfriend's hateful messages reminded you why you never went out and why this was the biggest mistake you could have made.
The worst part was you saw it coming.
‘Move,’ you said, grabbing your bag. ‘Bradley, let me out now.’ ‘You can’t drive like this, Y/N. Let one of us take you home.’
Bradley sounded destroyed. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. 
‘Move.’
He nudged Bob, who stood up so Bradley could climb out of the booth. You were close behind him, and when your feet touched the floor, you nearly keeled over. Bradley reached out to steady you, but you shook him off.
‘Y/N. You can’t leave like this. How are you gonna get home?’
Ignoring his pleas, you made a beeline for the exit. Nat shoved Reuben into Mickey, trying to hurry them out of the booth so she could follow you, but you were surprisingly fast for a drunk person. Bradley was right about one thing: there was no way you could drive in this state. You ducked around the corner so Nat couldn’t see you and sank to the floor. Hot tears prickled behind your eyes as you did the one thing you didn’t want to do, but the only thing you could do.
You called Elijah. 
He didn’t answer the first, second, third, or fourth time. 
Half an hour passed, and you didn’t move. At one point, you heard Bradley, Nat, and Reuben talking around the corner, coming up with a plan for where to look for you. They knew you were on foot because your car was still in the lot, and since you’d disappeared so quickly, you couldn’t have gotten far. If the situation weren’t so tragic, it would’ve been funny that you were hiding ten paces away, and none of them could find you. 
It was getting very late. People were getting in their cars and leaving or jumping into Ubers. Soon, your Jeep would be the only car left. You couldn’t face the daggers, and you couldn’t drive home, so you picked yourself up and took a slow walk down the beach to where the water met the sand. 
What a beautiful night to have your heart broken. 
There was no way Elijah would ever forgive you for this, no way you’d ever be able to 
convince him that nothing had happened between you and Bradley. The sane part of you knew that it was crazy to feel guilty for simply enjoying a night out with your friends, but the sane part of you rarely won these days. The part of you that loved Elijah was always loudest and knew this could never have gone any other way. 
You were just about to resign yourself to calling a cab when you heard someone yelling your name from the top of the beach. 
You either had the best or worst luck in the world because it was Bradley. 
He made short work of the distance, giving you no time to come up with something to say. He looked otherworldly in the pale moonlight. His hair was slightly mused, and the same insane part of you that loved what it loved was whispering at you to run your fingers through it. 
‘We’ve been looking all over for you, Y/N.’ He sounded very concerned as he pulled out his phone and texted the others to let them know you were safe. ‘I’m sorry, I just needed to be alone.’
You hadn’t even realised you were shivering until Bradley draped his Levi jacket over your shoulders. 
‘You needed to be alone, or you needed to call Viper back?’ The tears threatened to make another appearance. ‘It’s none of your business.’ ‘What makes you think it’s not my business? I care about you and don’t want to keep watching you get hurt.’ ‘Then stop watching!’
Bradley recoiled, and you immediately felt awful. How Elijah spoke to you like that day in and day out without feeling guilty was a mystery to you. 
‘I’m sorry, Bradley,’ you sighed, pulling his jacket tighter around you. ‘I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just very drunk and very emotional right now.’
He softened immediately and seemed torn about whether he should let you stand there freezing or pull you close. You hoped he wouldn’t try to pull you close because you didn’t think you’d have the guts to tell him no. Good feelings had been so incredibly hard to come by as of late.
‘Why are you still with him, Y/N?’ Bradley asked almost pleadingly. 
Wow. He didn’t waste any time getting right to the point. 
‘That’s a loaded question.’ ‘I need you to explain it to me because it’s killing me.’
You thought about it for a moment, and Bradley waited with bated breath to hear what you had to say.
In the end, it was this: ‘I guess we accept the love we think we deserve.’ 
Until you said it out loud, this phrase held little meaning to you. Now that it was out in the open, it was very heavy. In the last few months you’d tried coming up with a decent explanation as to why you were staying with Elijah, and you fell short every time. Turns out all you needed to do was get drunk and have an honest conversation to figure it out. 
Coming to the realisation that what you’d just said was true felt like being in freefall. Everything in your life was changing shape to fit around this ugly truth. The good things in your heart shied away in the face of this monstrous fact. 
You didn’t think you deserved a healthy love. 
Somehow, Bradley was more hurt by this than when you’d snapped at him earlier. He was staring at the ground, unable to meet your eye like you’d just told him he wasn’t worthy of love.
‘You don’t think you deserve to be happy?’
Hearing him say it was somehow even worse.
‘Apparently not.’
You were both quiet for a moment, and then, for whatever reason, you laughed. 
‘This is news to me too.’
The waves crashed loudly, water lapping at your feet as the tide came in. You couldn’t stand out here having epiphanies all night. 
‘Listen, Rooster, I need to go home. I’m sorry for snapping.’ ‘I’ll take you home,’ he said quietly. ‘But we should talk tomorrow when you’re sober. Maybe we could get coffee.’ You shook your head. ‘After tonight, I don’t think that’s a smart idea. I’ll probably be spending tomorrow trying to salvage what’s left of my relationship.’ ‘You’re not serious.’ ‘I am.’
He opened his mouth to protest but then appeared to change his mind. You watched as all the fight he had left in him dissolved. There was nothing left for him to say, and he knew it. 
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The irritating birds that constantly chirped right outside your bedroom window woke you up. It was too damn early, and your head felt as though it was splitting open. When you sat up, you were hit by a wave of nausea so strong that you had no other choice but to sprint to the bathroom, smashing into the corner of your chest of drawers on the way. 
Which was to say, it was a bad morning. 
After you had puked up the entire contents of your stomach, you jumped straight in the shower, brushed your teeth, and did your skincare. At least if Elijah showed up at your front door, you wouldn’t look like you got super drunk last night, even though he’d probably already guessed. 
When you checked your phone, there were still no notifications from him, and when you called, there was no answer. This wasn’t unlike him, but it had been almost twelve hours since Bradley picked up your phone, and you would have thought he’d have something to say by now. 
To distract yourself from your impending doom, you threw open all the windows in your apartment, made your bed, unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher—all the usual morning tasks. It seemed a shame to waste such a beautiful Saturday, but you doubted you’d enjoy any of your hobbies when you were this anxious and hungover. 
With nothing else left to do, you set about making some breakfast. 
Just as you put your bagel in the toaster, somebody knocked on the door. 
Your stomach twisted itself into an impossibly tight knot. You were rooted to the spot, unable to move until whoever it was knocked a second time. 
You looked through the peephole, expecting to see Elijah standing there with his dark eyebrows knitted together in frustration. It was the only scenario that had crossed your mind, so when you saw Bradley standing there, you were very surprised. 
You took a deep breath and opened the door, greeted by the warm scent of sandalwood once again. 
‘Bradley?’
He was holding two iced lattes, which you were betting were vanilla—your favourite. Elijah hadn’t done that for you since the first week of your relationship.
‘Hey, Y/N. Thought you could use this.’
He wasn’t wrong. You ushered him inside, and he headed to the kitchen, where he 
perched himself on one of the stools at your kitchen island. This morning, he was sporting one of his more toned-down Hawaiian shirts and dark jeans. His eyelids drooped, and you wondered if he’d slept at all. 
‘I was just about to make bagels. Want one?’ ‘Sure, thank you.’
You busied yourself, putting bacon and eggs into a pan while he sipped his coffee, eyeing
you with the curiosity of someone who had come over to check you were all in one piece. Once he was satisfied that you were, he relaxed slightly. 
‘Thank you for bringing me home last night. I really appreciate it.’ You told him earnestly.  ‘You don’t need to thank me. You’d have done the same thing.’ ‘True, but still. And I’m sorry for snapping at you.’ 
Last night was gradually coming back to you in flashes, like a supercut. Each time you remembered a new detail, you cringed internally. 
‘You also don’t need to apologise. Has he called you?’ 
While the eggs and bacon were cooking, you toasted another bagel for Bradley and buttered yours. Even though you’d known him for years and been quite close until you got into a relationship, you were struggling to admit that you were pretty much being ghosted. It was already hard to walk around on base knowing that everybody was aware of how Elijah treated you. When you didn’t respond, Bradley took that as a no. 
‘Well, that’s his problem,’ he spat. ‘You did absolutely nothing wrong. Maybe if he were less of a control freak, you would have felt like you could tell him you were out with us rather than hiding it, and then he wouldn’t have found out the way he did.’
The toaster popped, and you jumped. It felt like somebody had run a cheese grater over your nerves. Bradley ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath, clearly trying to reign in his anger.
‘I should apologise too,’ he continued. ‘I shouldn’t have answered your phone. It was a dick move, and I regretted it the instant I did it.’ 
You buttered the second bagel, put one egg on each of the bottom halves, and stacked two pieces of bacon on top before adding the top part. You didn’t say a word the entire time, and Bradley was starting to get antsy. 
‘Y/N. Please talk to me.’ ‘I don’t know what to say, Roo. I’m struggling even to think straight right now. He knows it drives me fucking crazy when he’s having a go at me and doesn’t respond. I don’t understand why he does it, knowing how it makes me feel.’ Bradley sighed. ‘Because he doesn’t give a shit how you feel. He doesn’t give a shit about anything other than himself and how he feels.’ 
This wasn’t news to you, but again, it was more impactful to hear someone else say it out loud. Really, how long could you keep this up? Whether you thought you deserved it or not, you were starting to wonder if you might be better off alone than with someone who made living feel like walking next to a cliff with your eyes closed. 
You pushed Bradley’s plate across the counter and picked up your bagel. Eating felt impossible, but getting through the day with this headache would be excruciating if you didn’t at least try. 
‘Come and sit down,’ Bradley said. ‘It’s not good to eat standing up.’ Despite everything, you managed to laugh. And this time, it was a real laugh. ‘Why?’ A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. ‘I don’t know. My mum used to say it all the time.’
You did as you were told, and you walked around the island, taking the seat next to him. The two of you ate in companionable silence, periodically taking sips of your coffees. This was how easy it should have been with Elijah. 
When you were both finished, Bradley put your plates, pan, and utensils into the dishwasher. You were too tired to tell him to stop. 
‘Thanks for breakfast.’  You smiled. ‘Thanks for being you.’
Bradley’s smile mirrored your own. Unsaid words hung in the air, but you didn’t know what to say. His leaving didn’t feel right, but if he stayed and Elijah made an appearance, he’d most definitely break up with you. 
But wasn’t this radio silence all the confirmation you needed that things were pretty much over, anyway? You were starting to wonder if this weekend had all happened exactly the way it was supposed to. Your eyes were indeed open, that was for sure. Of course, you’d known that the relationship wasn’t healthy, but this weekend had really driven the point home. 
‘Do you wanna go for a walk along the beach?’ You asked, hopefully. ‘We could grab some ice cream at that little place next to the arcade.’
Bradley didn’t just look happy. He also looked relieved that you weren’t asking him to leave. 
‘I’d love to.’
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It was a beautiful Spring day, perfect walking weather. Honestly, it was the last thing Bradley expected you to suggest, so he jumped on the idea before you could change your mind and send him home.
Because he really didn’t want to go home. 
He’d sensed that you didn’t want to talk about Viper, and you’d yet to bring up your conversation on the beach last night. Bradley was beginning to doubt that you even remembered everything you said—all that nonsense about not deserving a healthy love. Bradley didn’t take you as a liar, which meant you believed that you weren’t deserving of happiness. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt quite so sad and also angry at the same time. So many emotions were warring for the top spot in his heart, and as a result, his brain was incredibly foggy.
A walk along the beach with you was perhaps the only cure.
‘Did you hear about Hangman?’ Bradley assumed you hadn’t. ‘No?’ ‘He’s getting deployed. He’s leaving next month.’ ‘How long is he going for?’ ‘Six months.’ You whistled lowly. ‘Damn.’ ‘I know. I think he’s looking forward to it, though. I sure am.’ ‘You know, I don’t think you hate him half as much as you say.’ Bradley chuckled. ‘Maybe not, but being nice to him wouldn’t feel right. Even after everything that happened on the mission.’ 
The two of you walked down the beach, chit-chatting about anything that came to mind. You were about halfway to the ice cream place when your phone pinged. Bradley guessed it would be Viper, but he never could have guessed what the message said. 
It was a photo of you and Bradley walking down the beach, taken from behind. The picture had been forwarded to you from someone else. 
E<3: always knew you were a slut.
You inhaled sharply, obviously hurt by the words on the screen. Not two seconds later, he sent another text. 
E<3: PS: we’re fucking over.
The two of you had stopped walking. Bradley watched over your shoulder as you furiously typed a reply and deleted it again. You turned to face him, and his heart just about broke when he saw the tears streaming down your cheeks. You didn’t need to say a word. He pulled you close to him, wrapping you tightly in his arms. You stayed that way for a while, sobbing into his Hawaiian shirt as he rubbed your back soothingly. When you eventually pulled away, the first thing you did was apologise. 
‘There’s nothing for you to be sorry for, sweet girl. He’s the one who should be sorry.’ You sniffled. ‘I don’t know what to reply.’ ‘Leave it for now,’ he said. ‘We can go get ice cream, take a slow walk back to yours. Then I’ll help you think of something.’ ‘I don’t know if I feel like ice cream anymore.’ ‘Well, that’s too bad because I do. Ice cream is the best remedy for heartbreak.’ ‘Did your mum tell you that too?’ ‘She sure did.’ 
It turns out Bradley was right about ice cream being the best remedy for heartbreak. The two of you sat on the wall, watching the waves while he munched on a mint chocolate chip cone and you butterscotch. It was hard to tell whether it was the best ice cream you’d ever had or if it was because you were with Bradley. If you remembered correctly, you’d had ice cream from this same place with Elijah before, and it hadn’t been this nice.
Thinking back on your memories with him only made you want to cry, so you did your best to shove them to the back of your mind. Despite the fact that he was actually a very shitty person, he’d been a dream at the beginning, and that didn’t just go away. The happy moments didn’t just suddenly turn to ash, as much as you wished they would. 
‘What are your plans for the rest of the night?’ Bradley asked around his ice cream cone. ‘I don’t know, Roo. I’m kinda working on a minute-to-minute basis right now.’ Bradley nodded. ‘Okay, well, what would you say to junk food run and a movie night?’ ‘With you?  ‘If you want to. I just don’t think it’s good for you to be alone.’ ‘I don’t want you to feel like you have to babysit me.’ ‘Is that what you think this is?’ ‘No, but I don’t want to be a burden. Or a charity case.’ ‘Y/N, you’re none of those things. I always want to spend time with you. Just so happens I have a good excuse today.’ You frowned into your ice cream. ‘Okay. As long as you’re sure.’ 
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The two of you finished your ice cream and took a slow walk back to your apartment. When you got in, the first thing you noticed was a framed photograph of you and your now ex-boyfriend on the side table in the hallway. When your bottom lip started trembling, Bradley picked up the photo, put it face down, and then proceeded to run around your apartment and take down any others. It didn’t feel like the same place you’d left a few hours ago. It was haunted by memories that would never look right in the light of day. Even the happiest ones from the start were tainted with the ugliness of his cruel words and actions. 
‘This place is so depressing.’ You grumbled.
Bradley stood in front of you with a stack of photos and one of Elijah’s t-shirts. 
‘It’s not. It’s your home, Y/N. We just have to pack away his stuff and put it all in a box.’ ‘An ex-boyfriend box.’ Bradley smiled sadly. ‘Yeah, exactly. It might be over, and he might be a dick, but it was still a big part of your life, and it’s important to keep the memories safe in case you wanna look back on them someday.’ ‘Or in case I wanna burn them.’ ‘That too.’ Bradley chuckled
So you helped him gather all the mementoes from your relationship and put them in an old Dr Martens box. It all looked pretty pathetic, packed away in a shoebox.
‘I found one of his hoodies and a few other things.’ You called from your bedroom. ‘Can you grab me a bin bag from the top of the fridge?’
You heard shuffling, and then Bradley was standing in the doorway holding out the bag you requested. 
‘Damn, he doesn’t even get one of the nice Trader Joe's bags?’ ‘No,’ you giggled. ‘He gets a trash bag because his stuff is trash, and he’s trash.’
You weren’t really at the stage where you believed that just yet, but saying it was really satisfying, and it felt good to laugh. Fake it till you make it or whatever. 
‘Want me to give it to him tomorrow?’ ‘Thanks, but I should really be the one to do it. I haven’t even texted him back.’ You thought about it for a moment and then continued. ‘Would it be cheeky of me to ask if you’ll come with me? Maybe Nat, too? I could use some moral support, and he’s less likely to make a scene if the two of you are there.’ ‘Of course I’ll be there. I won’t say anything unless you need me to or unless he starts. I can’t make that same promise for Nix, though.’ ‘I haven’t even told Nat yet,’ you sighed. ‘I don’t think I wanna talk about it right this second.’ ‘I’ll text her. Don’t worry about it.’
From your spot on the floor, you looked up at Bradley. The evening sunlight was streaming in through the windows, casting an ethereal glow around him. 
‘You should change your callsign to angel.’ A look of pleasant surprise flickered across his handsome features. ‘Why?’ ‘Because you’re literally my angel, Roo. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.’
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Half an hour later, Bradley convinced you to go on a junk food run with him in the Bronco. He said tonight was a mandatory, post-breakup wallowing sesh because if you bottled up your feelings now, you’d explode later at a much more inconvenient time. 
The two of you had been screaming along to all the classic breakup songs: All Too Well by Taylor Swift (yes, he knew all the words), Who Knew by Pink, What About Now by Daughtry… He’d driven the long way to the store because you got so into it. 
Now, as you scanned the shelves in Target, you asked: ‘What is it about screaming sad songs that makes you feel better?’ ‘It’s cathartic,’ Bradley explained. ‘Helps you relieve the strong feelings.’ ‘You know a lot about heartbreak.’ ‘Well, I’ve had my fair share of sadness.’ You froze. ‘That was insensitive of me, I’m sorry.’ Bradley took the packed of Reeses Pieces from your hands so he could hold them. ‘Can you make me a promise?’ ‘What?’ You asked sceptically. ‘Promise you’re gonna stop apologising to me all the time. You have nothing to be sorry for.’ ‘Sorry.’ You smiled sheepishly.  He shook his head. ‘That’s not what you’re supposed to say.’ ‘Okay, fine,’ you huffed. ‘I promise to stop apologising all the time.’ ‘Thank you,’ Bradley said, releasing your hands reluctantly. ‘Now, pick out five more things.’ ‘Five? There’s already five things in the basket.’ ‘Did I ask?’ ‘I’m gonna get fat.’ ‘Don’t be so ridiculous. Wallowing means junk food, and I don’t know if you’re looking at the same basket I am, but that’s not enough junk food.’ ‘Christ Almighty, okay.’ 
He helped you pick out five more things, and then you headed to check out.
‘What movies are good for wallowing?’ You asked. ‘Well, we have to start with a couple of sad ones and then finish with a happy one.’
The cashier told you your total, and Bradley tapped his card before you could even get yours out. You gave him a withering look.
‘I would’ve paid for that. You paid for the ice cream.’ ‘So?’ ‘So we should take it in turns.’
Obviously, he carried the bags as well, and as you walked back to the Bronco, he couldn’t help but wonder if Viper made you take it in turns. If you were his girl, you’d never have to tap your card.
‘What’s your favourite sad movie?’ He inquired.  You opened the trunk for him so he could put the bags in. ‘Technically, it’s not a sad movie. But there’s this part in Inside Out…Wait, have you watched it before? I don’t wanna spoil it for you.’ ‘The part where Bing Bong gets forgotten?’ You gasped. ‘How did you know?’ ‘Because it gets me every single time.’
The way you looked at him in that moment, like he had hung the moon in the sky—God, it was too much. 
‘We’ll start with Inside Out,’ he told you, opening the passenger door so you could climb in. ‘And then we’ll think of something else.’
Without giving much thought to what he was doing, Bradley found himself buckling your seatbelt for you. You were holding your breath, and it dawned on him how easy it would be to kiss you if he were that sort of guy.
And as much as he wanted to kiss you, he was not that sort of guy. He wasn’t about to take advantage of the fact that some asshole had just taken a sledgehammer to your very beautiful heart. 
‘Can we watch Bridge To Terabithia?’ You whispered.
Bradley hadn’t moved, and you were so close that he could feel your warm breath on his cheek. 
‘Are you trying to break my heart, Y/N?’ ‘Yes. I want you to feel my pain.’ 
He was grinning the whole way around the car to the driver’s side and still grinning when he got in the car. You already had his phone in your hand, searching for more sad songs so you could continue your car concert on the way back to your apartment. He drove the long way again so the two of you could finish your rendition of ‘I Don’t Love You’ by My Chemical Romance, which Bradley didn’t know the words to. He tried his best, though, because you seemed to love it, and he couldn’t deny you anything. 
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By the time you got home, the sun had almost entirely set. While he set the snacks out on the coffee table, you went around lighting candles and switching on fairy lights. He’d never seen your apartment in the dark, and it was incredibly cosy. Even though it was relatively warm, you dragged all your blankets and pillows from your bed and made a little nest on the sofa. You were so adorable, it was hard to believe that someone could treat you badly. 
If you were his girl, every night would look like this—except you’d be a lot happier, and there would be no tears. 
Halfway through Bridge To Terebitha, you fell asleep. Bradley had been trying to keep his distance despite wanting to wrap you up in his arms, yet somehow—in your sleep—you’d ended up with your legs in his lap. He’d frozen at first, but once he realised you were dead to the world, he allowed himself to rest his hands on your knees. Really, it was that or sit with his arms crossed, and that would be silly. 
For the duration of the movie, his attention flickered between you and the TV. Every time he tried paying attention to what was happening, his eyes wandered back to your peaceful face. He marvelled at your astounding beauty, the delicate way your eyelashes rested against the tops of your rosy cheeks. Bradley had always admired you, and you’d been good friends for years, but what he felt in that moment was something else entirely. By the time the end credits started rolling, he knew without a doubt that he’d set whole cities ablaze to keep you warm. Feelings as rapidly growing as his should have been terrifying, but Bradley wasn’t scared. Falling in love with you seemed to be as easy as wading out into a calm ocean on a warm summer’s day. 
He knew you’d yet to learn that falling in love and staying in love should always be this easy. He knew it was going to take some time to convince you that you deserved healthy love, that the right person would never run away from you and keep turning around to make sure you were chasing them. 
But Bradley was a patient man, and he would wait as long as he had to.
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End of part one.
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