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saturnsbabyboii · 11 months

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🫧My experience being friends with the Moon signs 🫧

-Please remember that this is not a reflection of everyone with said placement. The behaviors of a single asshole aren't that of the many (sometimes). Also, I don't/didn't have friends with all Moons. Some would have one person or no specific person, and rather so, I'll be giving general observations.

🫧Taurus Moon🫧

Friend #1: Kind, loving, generous, thoughtful, quiet, slow, and internalizes everything. She is one of my closest friends ever. She is practically the father figure of the group, helping everyone out, protecting them, advocating, giving advice, and making sure that they're set and good. Picky with her friends, many of them are people she has known since childhood, and most are her cousins with very few that aren't related to her. Tech and cyber expert. A big animal and nature lover. She loves her space and peace, she is slow to return texts, hates calls, and has the social battery of a sloth. Good singing voice. Loves video games, and is OBSESSED with whatever she has an interest in. Overall, her emotions are well-regulated, however, as an Earth Moon she rationalizes herself and stays pretty chill, even when she needs to pipe up.

Friend #2: Obsessive, jealous, sensual, persistent, indulgent yet very frugal, and stubborn af. A big-time foodie, he does have quite the appetite. Good singing voice too. Always at the clearance section of 'Bath and Body Works'. Thrifty. Got to have three of the same body spray. Candle queen. Trust issues with a very paranoid outlook on things. A bit greedy. Always asking people to buy them things. Very sexual. Cares for his younger sisters and loves his family and friends.

Friend #3: Big-time nerd. Memes are his only talking reference. Great singing voice and can imitate voices very well. Shy extrovert. Loves animations and even studied to be an animator and designer. Hugger. Big animal lover (he legit has what seems like a zoo of pets at home).

Friend #4: Obsessed with history (especially medieval history). All about death and our relationship with mortality. A literal cat. Isn't afraid to get her hands dirty. Goes all in on a subject of interest. Has the same appearance and sense of style as always.

I find Taurus Moons to be very comforting and a joy to be around. They defiantly bring a sense of stability to the relationship, mainly because they're predictable. Not in the "boring" sense but rather that they're people of clear and simple emotions no matter how grand they're in expression, it's pretty clear what they feel, how they feel, and why; Basically, there's no catch or an underbelly to their emotions. Other qualities I have found was that they're pretty aloof, they hate to be intimate with people they barely know, and they actually like fast-paced relationships (only if they really like you), they love to dress simply but chic, and they do have a well known "thing". They always got that "thing" you associate with them and they have it for comfort, like a kid with a blanket or a toy. They also love animals, pastels, the color brown, and karaoke. Hates confrontation and always second guesses their gut feeling. They're also very stubborn and in general, find it much harder to break out of habitual cycles of disconnecting and detachment when shit gets real.

🫧Gemini Moon🫧

Friend #1: Very smart. Great writer and lyricist. Talented musician and singer. Loves people. A bit timid about being in the spotlight. Loves to connect with others over interests, especially art and social issues. Great dresser. Romantic. Bends too fast. Dislikes confrontation but would stand up for a loved one. Bad judge of character (always attracts cheaters and assholes).

Friend #2: Certified L.A.B (lying ass bitch). Says shit for the sake of saying shit. Fake trauma bonding. Leeches off of people. Toxic. Abusive. Always with abusers. Manipulative and hateful. Been around the block. Would do anything for validation. Makes up stories about others to play the role of the victim. (Very likely she has a cluster B personality disorder and no Gemini Moon would claim her.)

I think I have experienced two extremes of this moon, with one being highly and continuously evolving and the other being consistently trash. I am fond of the energy that Gemini has on the moon. There's this innocence that they possess at the core, and it could be the purest and most genuine thing or the biggest fabrication in history. Nonetheless, I do love to be around them and the energy they bring to a relationship. It is always lively, fresh, and new, they'll always come up with something to do with you, and always find a way to spend time and be close to you. They definitely give mixed signals since they tend to be a bit playful, especially in their platonic relationships, and they are very touchy. They're bold and outspoken generally about how they feel. They're less guarded and more likely to share and talk about their problems and their opinions. In contrast, they would rather die than open up about their deep true emotions.

🫧Cancer Moon🫧

Talking about their ex was their favorite pastime. Never misses an important function. Celebrations and social events were considered important. The person that would want to go somewhere but then gets upset because things did not go how they imagined they would. Ruminates on past events and feelings. Vents a lot but also gives you the space to do so. Strong stan on temporary emotions and circumstances. Feels how she feels and doesn't care how others perceive her for it, or what they think about it. Low key ferocious (I live for it though). The only person I know that isn't afraid to publicly voice their boundaries when crossed.

I don't think I met another Cancer Moon besides this person, and we became friends only because we were together in similar classes at uni. Overall, I would say from what I have observed, her relationships with her friends were always great and seemed pretty solid. Romantically though, sis was very challenged, and I don't think it was totally her date's fault. She is an acquired taste and she knows what she wants. Seems very hung up on the idea of meeting expectations and fighting an imaginary clock to get THE perfect life. Good luck with that.

🫧Leo Moon🫧

Creative. Self-motivated. A visionary. The definition of an untamable person. Careful of who they keep company. Lives for an adventure. All about self-expressing, being authentic, and breaking the system. Great philosophical talker. Has true parental instincts. Very comfortable with themselves. Sexual. Great body-mind attunement. Good at mirroring others.

I have heard/read a lot of shit spewing about this placement, but I have to say that I do love to meet them. They're a breath of fresh air. Although I get how they can give an impression of a know it all "I am better than you" life dula, I never detect malice in their approach and usually they're more than respectful if you talk to them about it. They carry the weight of life with such ease, and I envy their perseverance. They definitely love to live life to the fullest. They have their select few friends that they have for a lifetime and like to keep it that way.

🫧Virgo Moon🫧

Never been friends with a Virgo Moon, although not for lack of trying but they themselves are quite apprehensive of bonds with people. They're close to their family and the friends they have they got to know them through school, work, or because they had no other option than to be around you. A molded chaos, and an organized mess. Life runs much faster for them and there's never enough time to finish anything. Despite their tendency to give everything a sense of debilitating urgency, they aren't hypochondriacs. Being strong and well functioning is important to them, as such they take good care of their bodies and surroundings. Oddly spiritual with a devolution to routine rituals. Their emotions are well hidden, they have the hardest exterior to crack. However, they're avid about mental health and wellness. I have also noticed that they tend to lash out, uncharacteristic of them, when they're overwhelmed or feel cornered.

🫧Libra Moon🫧

Friend #1: Very sweet. Bad Bitch™. Always looks good. Best dancer I know. Craves love and relationships. Attracts drama. They are very close to their family. Heavily underestimated. "Legally Blond" but Elle is a Latina that studies medicine. Loves astrology. Takes care of their friendships. Always on the go. Meeting new people all the time.

Friend #2: Pushover. Non-confrontational yet very aggressive. Easily frustrated. Closed minded to different interests. A bit extreme and abrasive. HATES astrology. LOVES the show 'Friends'. Self-critical. Insecure.

A placement that perfectly embodies Libra. Heavenly body and presence. Indecisive as hell. Always stuck in bad relationships. Head is always in the clouds. Romanticizing everything. Walking like they're being filmed. I would say there is an emphasis on companionship and finding "the one" throughout their lives, plus drama is second nature. They might be used to drama so much so that they lose sense of their boundaries and self, in turn making them vulnerable to manipulation and abuse. Their "all about me" era is like no other and is a true turning point in their lives. They seem to thrive when are surrounded by masculinity and masculine people, or overall very competitive and cut-throat environment. They use being underestimated to their advantage.

🫧Scorpio Moon🫧

"Me, myself and I". Paranoid as hell. Big spender. Artistic. Good at portrait sketching. Dresses well. Loves drama. Is the drama. Tone deaf. Low-key ungrateful. An immense sense of self-importance. Passive aggressive. PETTY. Mature exterior with very childish interests. Hypercritical of everything, including themselves.

"Jesus take the wheel" was made as a phrase for dealing with a Scorpio Moon. I get the fragility and being highly emotional and sensitive, that I read about. However, I mostly find them to be disagreeable and pensive. You never know what is the truth, so I assume everything is a lie, and if it's the truth then there must be a catch. They would wake up and the day already sucks. They love to surround themselves with expensive things. It's uncomfortable to be around a placement that seems to believe their own projections and preconceived notions of others rather than getting to know people, or maybe just mind their own business. I would say though that having a Scorpio Moon is probably unpleasant, but I have seen worse happen to other placements with "favorable" moons. And of course, I am talking about the ones that I have met and not every single Scorpio Moon out there.

🫧Sagittarius Moon🫧

Friend #1: Life of the party (actually the life of life). Loves to laugh. Comfortable with everyone. Always hype. Smokes like a chimney. Either brave or stupid. Hype. Frequent dealings with older guys. No chills. Loves to play with friends. Car hangouts over going into places. Funny on the outside, sad on the inside.

Friend #2: Very smart. Tarot mogul. Always a good time. Great convorsaitonlist. A softie. Very sensitive. Expressive.

Friend #3: Would cut a bitch. A true ride or die. A person you want to be on her good side. An unofficial dominatrix. Sweet but feisty. Loves her cat. Always lit. Would do anything for her friends. A good bullshit detector.

A favorite of mine, it is very hard not to like a Sag moon. They're so caring of others and are always making sure that you're good and having a good time. They're the type of person to trust if you're in a bar or a club. I would say that there is a very sad side to them under all that happiness. They're always anxious, which is probably why they don't sleep or eat very well. They also get a lot of migraines. If they open up then they really really really trust you (which is important to them since they can vibe and hang out with anyone but barely trust). They usually have a much calmer Earth sun best friend. I would say that they act much older than their when young but then seem to stay stuck on childish cycles of defensiveness and escapism as they get older.

🫧Capricorn Moon🫧

Friend #1: Artistic and crafty. Resilient. Capable of being very sweet and stern. Good with money, planning, and organizing. Maticolus. Conscious and realistic about their growth and development. Loves animals. Loves to be active in nature. A strong believer in karma.

Friend #2: A true powerhouse. Wonderwoman. My mentor and only real-life role model. An established businesswoman. Rags to riches. Despite having a physical disability she can drive, open pickle jars, do lifts and push up, plus she is a fashion designer that can sew. All of that with one arm. A fighter through and through.

Never had the privilege of being friends with many Capricorn Moons but I have known quite a few and some are very close friends of my family. A rough start in life. They really do take time to peak, however, the glow-up is real. Least spiritual Moon sign. Not egotistical or cold as I read so often. Quite warm and welcoming actually. They might be borderline Darwinists when it comes to the importance of human life and mortality. Believers of hard work and initiative. Lovers and fighters. Silent passion. When young, their relationship with their mother can be described as codependent, and their relationship with their father is strained with a sense of animosity. However, with time the roles seem to slowly reverse. Regardless, their family defenatliy takes precedence throughout their lives. They value respect more than anything else.

🫧Aquarius Moon🫧

Friend #1: Devoted to volunteer work and other people. The "fixer" type. Wants to be needed. Self-help books are all they read. Their interests and style are influenced by the people they're hanging out with. Accidentally (or maybe not) trauma bond with others. Desires to be a leader. Emotions focused. Worries about their reputation a lot. No luck with love. And also in friendship. Many friends, very few that are close, and only one has been consistent so far. Loves to have hangouts with large groups.

Friend #2: Music is their soul. Hippie. Loves acting. "center of attention". Dress based on aesthetics. TikTok addict. Interested in astrology and spirituality. Cold. Performative.

Friend #3: Know-it-all. Bad at expressing themself. No filter. Self-centered. Radical thinking. "Everyone is stupid". Loves to stand out. Learned how to finish a Rubix cube just to show it off. Having low grades is a "red flag" to him. Has a strong desire to be loved, yet none to give it back.

Friend #4: All about the drama and lights. Emotionally explosive at times. Hiding behind a facade. Loves to meet different people. Business savvy. Guarded but would give you their heart once they let it down. Displays emotions as anger when in reality they're scared. Superficial connections to others are more prevalent.

Generally, these people are dynamic and quite sociable. They're people focused in the best and worst ways possible. There is a constant desire to change surroundings (and at times help others change and grow) but they themselves tend to be relatively rigid at the core. Impressionistic (even though they would probably deny it). Self-image is usually not the reality (this could manifest in being overconfident or self-critical). They love to work with their hands a lot and do much better when working with others in comparison to working alone. They are altruistic but aren't attentive to others' desires; as a result, they believe they know better about everything and "what is best" depending on the situation. Imitates emotions rather than naturally expressing them.

🫧Pisces Moon🫧

Another very close friend of mine. Hard to read. Intelligent. People smart. Their friends are family. Uncomfortable with expressing their emotions, yet a good listener. Extroverted introvert. Loves to go out and meet people. Likes to club, going to parties, playing video games, and trying out new things. Loyal. Tough shell, soft heart. Doesn't give a flying fuck about what strangers think of them. Trophy hunter. A very realistic and pragmatic view of the world. Melancholic. They are perceived as troubled when they're just quiet. Low-key altruistic.

This Moon sign is not as bubbly as I have heard about it. They're hard to pinpoint as they usually come off as either Aquarius or Scorpio Moons. They tend to go through much more emotional turmoil, especially as children. They have a floaty feel to them. They feel a lot but nothing at once. They are usually witnesses to harm done to others and suffer losses related to other people rather be it themselves directly, which contributes to a sense of isolation from their peers. They do definitely grow into brave people that face life despite all the baggage they seem to drag around. By far the moon sign that takes the longest to open up honestly and completely, although they do experience spats of anxiety from time to time. Also FOOOOODDDD. They love food and everything that brings them comfort. Vices.

🫧Aries Moon🫧

Very emotional yet not expressive. Dedicated and strong-willed (she is a pediatrician). Hung up on "the one that got away". A true badass. So pretty yet so sad. Her dogs are her babies. Always choosing violence. Femme fatal that drives a Jeep Wrangler.

Emotions that cut deeper than a sword. They seem to compensate for emotional and inner needs with material things and career achievements. Very intimidating when you meet them at first, as they appear put together and quite the expert in their field. They spiral downwards if life doesn't go their way. Personally, I think this moon sign is the most emotionally rigid. Not for their lack of desire to change but rather that they get stuck on what their heart desire and can't seem to see or want anything other than that thing or person that they can't get. They also seem hellbent on trying to control what we can't control, such as the past, other people, and unforeseen misfortune. Highly upkeep on their exterior. Needs some form of vice to process emotions, usually it's smoking and drinking. They tend to be their parents favorite.

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chrollohearttags · 9 months

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bake it

reiner can’t get enough of you or your sweet treats. Regardless of what anyone thinks.

themes: food play, reiner and reader both being nasty af, (and both have super country accents), lots of old southern colloquialisms, food play, oral (m. receiving), spit play, pet names (sugar, poundcake, daddy, pumpkin, sweet girl), spanking, backshots, squirting

📝: this may or may not be a lil series based off my fav album at the moment. I think it fits the cowboy!reiner x reader headcanon very well.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Chile, did you hear about what (y/n) did down at the Hole this weekend?”

“Girl yes. Being fast and actin’ all loose. Hanging over every man that’ll look her way.” “I’m tellin’ ya, honey. She ain’t nothing like her mama or her cousins. Girl’s a handful, I tell ya. Never seen a thang’ like it.”

“She was with that Braun boy from what I heard. Lord knows what she was doing..”

rumblings and rumors had spread like wildfire among about what took place at the infamous hang out spot and saloon in the small town in which you’d grown up. It seemed that not much had changed from the time you were a tiny child from now being a grown woman, returning to your stomping grounds after a couple years of higher education. Pearl clutching church ladies and snobby debutants with their noses in the air, disapproving of any woman who hadn’t settled down and popped out ten kids before the age of twenty five. It was how the customary traditions went in the south and sadly, wasn’t going to change any time soon. However…

“Yes and did you hear that I had him calling to the good lord after I fucked him seven ways to Sunday? He was a lot of fun. Boy’s got a third leg and a tongue like a serpent. Might have to keep him around.”

the very bold proclamation of your supposed actions had your coworkers of the Sweetie Pie Bakery; owned by the ladies in your family and had been a staple in the city for ten years, gasping and glaring at you disgust. The ones working there currently were a few new hires from the local church. The types to be sleeping with other people’s husbands by Saturday and running in and out of the pew on Sunday. Blatant hypocrites. Hence why you so casually admitted to your affairs and boasted about them. You didn’t give a damn what those uppity bitches thought of you! Especially when the man in question was all but obsessed with you…sneaking away at any opportune moment to have you since the first night you gave him a taste of your proverbial sweetness. Slurping you up, tonguing you down and pounding that little pussy sideways..letting him have a slice of you anyway he liked. It was no secret to anyone that you weren’t some innocent saint but if it’s gossip they wanted, you’d give those mouth breathing heifers something to bump their gums about. They’d feel how they want to about you regardless so it didn’t matter. Might as well have a little fun..

“Now if you ladies will excuse me, I have a delivery to make.”

“In that outfit?!” Referring to the very short, denim miniskirt wrapping your thick backside and halter top hoisting your ample breasts.“It’s ninety two degrees outside besides, a wretched jezebel like me has to look the part, right?” Mocking them with an overly done accent and a fake smile before waving and turning on the heels of your boots.

and where you were headed, you wouldn’t have it on long anyways..not once he spotted you…

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

halfway across the tracks was a small office residing on the outskirts of town, right before you’d reach the dozen mile long stretch of fields and farmland. The moniker atop the building read ‘Braun Farms, Inc.’ owned and operated by the prominent family for several years and generations. Providing fresh vegetables, poultry, cattle and everything else to many local diners and families. The hardest working man in the entire company may have been the next line to take it over, Reiner Braun. A young, handsome, determined guy who was always about his business before any sort of pleasures. Of course, that all changed when his new fling came around..a girl by the name of (y/n) (l/n) who had a grip on him in more ways than one. After some whisperings, he discovered that you too had grown up in this area but was carted off to school elsewhere in your adolescence. You at sone private Christian academy and him homeschooled, hence why your paths never crossed. But that was a thing of the past and so was hiding the promiscuity you both harbored.

“Damn, poundcake. You keep suckin’ on me like that and I might hafta’ give you my credit card and last name.”

the words escaping in a guttural groan from Reiner’s half parted lips. His chest was heaving, so much so, it looked as if it were about to pop from his chest. Going mad with pure unadulterated lust as you licked on his shaft from underneath the desk. He had been assigned to records keeping today so you decided to pay him a little visit on his lunch break. And what was a better meal than your delicious cupcake and the chance to eat his dick up?

“Don’t say that too loud, pumpkin. Someone might get the wrong idea about me..think I’m trying to take ya’ money.”

“To hell with them. Only thing I want right now is to fuck that pretty lil’ throat.”

and he did just that. Bobbing your head up and down with a spread palm resting atop your freshly done lace front; feeding you every inch feasible of that long, erect cock. Gliding it to the back of your mouth until it damn near reached your esophagus and drummed up strings of spit. Loud gurgling noises filled the room and Reiner nearly lost his shit. Clawing at the arms of the chair and cursing like a sailor. You had this man doing and behaving in ways unbecoming of his character but he could give a damn less. As long as you kept letting him use you like this. Sticking your tongue out, you’d smile and request that he spit into your mouth..adding to the pre existing strings saliva and cum covering your face. It didn’t help matters any when you decided to take some of that frosting and place it on his sensitive tip before slurping it off. “W-whatever you want, sugar. I’ll give you whatever you want just keep —oh shit!” Earning yourself another warm load of his nut all over your exposed tits and pretty face. “You taste so good..” Those deviant eyes and sultry voice luring him in. By now, you had to be dripping so he’d tug you out from under there and place you at the edge of the desk before saddling up behind you with that hard dick. Hoisting that mini skirt to your waist, letting it bunch up around that soft, pudgy tummy, he was pleased to find that you wearing no panties but was wetter than the lake he frequented.

“Want you to fuck this pussy so good…stretch it out f’r me, Rei…” begging with your decorated nails placed on your round cheeks as you pulled them apart to reveal that puckering hole and soaking entrance…making him hungry for both. Wasting no time, he’d grab a handful of that thin top and your waist to reign you in. With his teeth grimaced, he’d whisper in your ear with growls; feeding you heavy handed smacks to your ass in the process. Spanking you like a bad kid but doing so because you enjoyed every second. “That’s what you want, sugar? For me to fuck ya’ like a lil’ slut? Make you come all over this dick? That right, baby?” To which you’d nod profusely, never craving something so badly before in your life. Of course, he was happy to oblige..but you’d have to beg a bit, just because that sexy voice turned him on so bad. “Yes, daddy. Need you to fill my shit up too..nut all in this pussy. I ain’t come all this way for nothin.” And of course, that all but sold him. So with your inviting heat waiting for him and those Wranglers ruffled around his waist, Reiner pulled you in close before impaling you on his cock.

“Damn right, baby..so take all this dick.” Pressing a thumb to your tight little asshole as he pumped you full..one long, deep stroke after the next, coaxing out sticky cream and soft cries as you scratched at the wooden surface he had you planked across. Sliding in and out of that warmth like a perfectly fitting puzzle piece. The tight clutch you put around his shaft had him mesmerized. It didn’t help your case any when you constantly doted and bragged on how good he fucked you. “I swear you’re the only one who can get this pussy wet like this..” “..right there, daddy. You in my fucking spot..gonna make me come.” Of course, Reiner was loving every bit and only wanted to please his lady so as that big ass bounced against his pelvis and rippled like waves, he’d give you more slaps and try to maintain his pace. Even going as far as to make that tip kiss the inner corner of your cervix.“Give it to me then…nut f’r me, sweet girl. Let it all go.” And the second you did, juices flooded the floor as you squirted all over him. “Shitttt! That’s what I’m talking about, pretty girl. Make a mess of me..” grinning from ear to ear before housing his own seed inside of you. That pulsating cock still inside of you minutes later. Turning you around, he’d mark your lips with a sloppy kiss and look down at the aftermath.

“I swear, I ain’t never gonna be able to quit you, sugar. Just too damn sweet..”

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evera-era · 7 months

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a new kind of love. (pt. 1)

synopsis: ellie thinks relationships are too complicated, and has since written them off. but what is she supposed to do when she starts developing feelings for her best friend?

ellie williams x fem!reader

warnings: slow burn AF, jealousy, some sassy ellie, male tries flirting with reader for like 3 seconds, lots of playful banter.

a/n: this was honestly so fun to write,, slow burn + friends to lovers go brrrrr

“Did you see that shit?!” Ellie exclaims, almost cracking her neck to look at you. “Fuck yeah! That’s a new high score.”

“Nice.” You mumbled, but your eyes didn’t drift from the book you were reading.

“Seriously? You’re not even looking.” She groans. “Whatever. If you did, your mind would’ve been blown. And you would’ve at least given me, like, a high five or something.”

“Okay, okay, sorry! I’ll look now — do it again.” You say, folding the corner of the current page you were on. Ellie adjusts her backpack as you put your book away.

“I can’t just ‘do it again,’” She says, mocking you. “My chances of ever getting that far again are practically zero.”

Ellie had managed to successfully skip a rock all the way across a large stretch of lake. It was a big deal to her, clearly. She had done this everytime you went on this particular path during patrols, but today was a new record for her.

The air was still. You took a moment to examine the trees around you before speaking. “Everything seems clear.” You said, turning to her. “Should we head back now?”

Ellie stops to take a look around. She gives a quick nod. “…Yeah. Guess so.”

You grinned before raising your hand. She turns, slightly puzzled, before narrowing her eyes at you.

“C’mon,” You wiggle your outstretched fingers a little. “Your celebratory high five, like you said!”

“Yeah, but now it’s out of pity. And about two minutes late.”

She waits for you to step aside, but you don’t put your arm down. “Mm-mm. I’m not moving til we make up, Els.”

Make up. The phrase makes her stop, just for a second. She found it a little amusing — you’ve never said that before. But she knew you were trying to make her feel better, so she chucks it up to you just being you.

She claps her hand against yours before making her way down the trail. “There. We made up. Happy?” She says, already having placed some distance between you two. You jog to catch up with her as she mounts Shimmer.

The two of you arrive back in Jackson about an hour earlier than any other given day, since today’s route was shorter than the rest. As you’re dropping off the horses, Ellie looks at you.

“I’m starving.” She says, guiding Shimmer. “Wanna grab lunch?”

“Sure.” You reply.

“Cool.” She offers you the horse’s lead. “Think you can put her up for me? I’ll be back in a sec.”

When Ellie returns to the spot she left you and Shimmer in a moment ago, she’s confused. The horse was not in her stable. In fact, she was nowhere to be found — and neither were you.

Ellie blows raspberries, slightly concerned. But that quickly fades when you turn the corner, Shimmer’s lead in hand.

“Ta-da!” You cheer. Shimmer’s hair is littered in fake plastic butterflies, tucked neatly within her strands. “It’s those little hair clips I found on our last patrol. Isn’t she purty?”

Ellie rolls her eyes, dropping her hand from her hip. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” You frown. “You don’t like it?”

“Looks kinda weird.”

“Ellie!” You whine.

She sighs. “Okay, sure. She looks… purty… indeed.”

“‘Course she does,” You say in a proud manner, walking Shimmer confidently to her stable. Ellie looks off to the side, her face beginning to warm as she murmurs “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

She pretended to be annoyed, but truthfully, she cherished days like these. The two of you hadn’t gotten scheduled together in a while. And even though you were adults now, and had other responsibilities, she didn’t miss your company any less.

She still liked Jesse and Dina, of course, but she wasn’t nearly as close with them like she was with you. You and Ellie were basically inseparable; you had been, ever since the very first day that you joined the community.

You broke the silence first. “Hey, maybe one day, you’ll let me play in your hair.”

Ellie glares at you. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not?” You urged. “Come on, I bet I could make you look just as pretty as Shimmer.”

She shakes her head. “Nope. Hell no.”

“Hm… you’re right.” Your devious grin widens. “You could never look that good.”

Ellie elbows you in your side, and you burst into a fit of giggles.

“Shut up. Let’s go eat.”

—

A few days later, Ellie was at the pub with Jesse when she glanced over and got caught off guard.

You were walking in, talking and giggling with some random guy that she had never seen before.

The interaction she witnessed left a weird taste in her mouth. You were so engaged in the conversation that you didn’t even look where you were going. If you did, you would’ve seen that your best friend was actually in the same bar.

It might’ve just been platonic, but for some reason, it annoyed her ever-so-slightly. You and Ellie talk about everything, and yet you’ve never mentioned him.

To make matters worse, his eyes were lusty and unwavering and practically embedding themselves into yours. And you didn’t seem to notice — or maybe you just didn’t care — which pissed her off to no end.

“Who’s that?” She questions, jutting her chin in your direction. Jesse looks over his shoulder, then back at his drink.

“Uh… stable boy, is what they call him. I think.” He says. “Came into town two nights ago, along with his dad. An old friend of someone’s.”

“Is he, like… into her, or something?” She mumbles, watching intently. Jesse replies with something along the lines of “Hm. Might be.”

The guy was tall, which forced you to look up at him through your lashes. He was smiling the whole time; he clearly liked this angle of you.

Ellie resists the urge to clench her teeth. Can’t you see that he’s so obviously thinking with his dick right now?

Ellie knew it was wrong to feel this way. You were allowed to make new friends, and she shouldn’t interfere with that. But she couldn’t help it — the guy seemed like a fucking creep. She hated that you were even talking to him.

Thinking about it wasn’t enough. Whatever it was, it was bubbling up under her skin, as if someone lit a match underneath her.

“Gonna introduce myself.” She says, setting down her glass. She doesn’t even wait for Jesse’s response before she’s hot on your trail.

When she approaches you, she says nothing. Merely clears her throat and gives a curt nod to your new friend.

“Oh, hey Els!” You say, touching her shoulder. You looked back over at him. “This is my best friend, Ellie. She looks scary, but she’s nice. I promise.”

Ellie remains silent, just purses her lips and puts her hands in her pockets. There’s a noticeable shift of energy in the conversation. Stable boy must have picked up on it; it’s not long before he excuse himself and leaves.

It’s almost comical how quickly Ellie relaxes upon his exit. You drop your hand and give her a dramatic stare, jaw agape.

“What?”

“Really?” You say in a loud whisper. “Els, I know it might be hard for you sometimes, but you don’t have to be a dick!”

“Pfft. I was not being a dick.” She protests. “And even if I was — he literally deserved it! That dude was looking at you like he wanted to bone you. It was fuckin’ gross.”

“Oh my god, Ellie—“

“What? It’s the truth!” She states, like it’s a fact. “Look, I get that he probably hasn’t seen a cute girl in a fucking millennium, but—“

“Did he tell you that?” You ask sarcastically.

“Whatever.” She mutters. “I just took him down a couple notches, that’s all. He’ll survive.”

“He was just being nice.” You say before pausing. “Wait. Did you call me cute?”

Honestly, the words had came out before she had a chance to catch them. She’s not really sure why she even said it at all.

Ellie didn’t normally lie, but she knew you’d never shut up if she didn’t. So she glances at you, then sneers. “And risk it getting to your head when it’s big enough as it is?”

You punch her in the arm, to which she very quickly defends herself against. She’s in the middle of playfully warding you off as Jesse approaches the two of you.

“We abusing Ellie now?” He jokes, glass in hand. Ellie gives you a light shove as you let go of her forearm.

“When isn’t she?” She says.

“Puh-lease,” You enunciate. “That was nothing. You’re gettin’ soft, Els.”

The auburn-haired girl laughs it off. As you and Jesse begin to make conversation, Ellie — for some reason — can feel her face wanting to tingle again.

She didn’t like it. It was ticklish, it annoyed her, and it seemed to only start doing that around you, nowadays.

What the fuck is happening?

Maybe she was getting a bit soft after all.

#ellie williams #ellie x fem reader #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams x reader #tlou2 fanfic #ellie williams fanfic #the last of us

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haunted-headset · 7 months

Note

Ok hear me out… scare actor reader and Wilbur who just wanted to go to a haunted house and then boom he’s like “oh no. The serial killer is pretty” you can use ur imagination for the rest this is just the caffeine talking to me with fanfic ideas :)

🔪 Is That Too Scary for You? 🔪

Summary: Headcanons about how Wilbur would act if he saw you, the reader, being pretty & a fake serial killer in a haunted house

A/N: HOLY SHIT. I LOVE THIS IDEA! Again, very sorry that it's only headcanons (idk if I'm even using the right term anymore lol), I'm extremely burnt out & tired rn. also tysm for the asks! it's been keeping me busy af & i love it! Also, the title was based off of the song I Think I'm Okay =)

pairing: CC!Wilbur x afab!actor!reader

pronouns used for reader: She/her/hers

tags: @vibestillaxxx @joviepog @ax-y10 @themonsterunderurmom @wilburstan @smolsleepykitten @funnyreally2009 @crows-death @thewheelersgaygaragelights @dykepunz @aresriiots @0miamor0 @cathers-world @defonotval @chipch0p @mazzistar16 @unmellowyellowfellow @justalittlebitofchaos @thosecolorfulsheets @vopix @taylors-version-from-the-vault @aine-lasagna @merianakross @veeislost @urfav-sapphic-siren (pls let me know if you do/don't want to be tagged!)

warnings/cw: scary stuff, reader is a scare actor (you're basically a fake serial killer), fake blood, the people with Wilbur & Tommy on the vlog getting jumpscared, reader pretending to k!ll Wilbur, Wilbur having a dream about the reader

genre: fluff/horror

Wilbur would probably be accompanied by the Sorry Boys for a Tom Simons vlog

Wilbur probably wouldn't want to go in the first place because he;d get scared easily

So when they do get inside the haunted house, they learn that everyone who's in the haunted house now becomes part of a challenge. They now have to escape the haunted house without being killed by any of the creatures/ghosts or you, the serial killer. It's basically just an escape room

When he first hears your menacing voice behind him, he stops walking. Not out of fear, but out of awe.

↑↑ You laughed creepily. "It seems I have some visitors here today..." Wilbur stopped in his tracks & Tommy turned the camera towards Wilbur. He was staring at you in awe. "Wilbur, stop being a simp & run!" Tommy laughed, pulling Wilbur away from you. "...Tommy, the serial killer's hot."

He basically tried to find any way to bring the group closer to you. He thought you were really pretty.

Would definitely 'die' first just to hang out with you

If you pinned him to the wall to 'k!ll' him, he would be so fcking flustered

↑↑ "Nowhere left to run..." you chuckled. You stabbed two of your fake knives into his shirt sleeves to pin him to the wall. "Any last words?" & Wilbur would be crushin' & blushin' so damn hard as he said, "Honestly? Uh you're really pretty & I kinda want your number if it isn't too much to ask-"

He ended up letting you 'k!ll' him so that you could bring him to where the people who were eliminated stayed until the attraction was over & you two just talked for an hour or so

& then you were stabbing him to death in his dreams <3

564 notes · View notes

tongue-like-a-razor · 2 years

Text

Faking It | Part VII

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader

A/N: So happy to be able to post this after yesterday's fiasco! I know I said this would be the last chapter but apparently I can't stop haha WHOOPS! This story seemed way shorter in my head lol So, yeah, there will be another chapter after this one.

Summary: Fake dating your friend, Bradley Bradshaw - what could possibly go wrong? Your sister is getting married and you need a date. You enlist Bradley's help and the rest is history.

CW: swearing, angst, fluff, suggestive language and themes, annoying af ex-boyfriend, TALL & PROTECTIVE Rooster (swoon) - look at me saving the best for last XD

Start from the beginning: Part I

“Let’s go,” Bradley says in a low voice, his face still far too close to yours for you to see much more than the mustache above his lip.

“Right now?” you ask, slightly bewildered by the urgency in his tone.

“Right now,” he breathes, starting to usher you toward the doors.

“Okay,” you say, trying to conceal your disappointment. “Let’s get our stuff,” you add, reluctantly detaching yourself from Bradley’s embrace to head back to the table. But as you are making you way through the flurry of dancing guests, Bradley’s hand finds yours in the darkness while he trails in your wake.

“Are you leaving, Y/N?” your mother asks as you collect your purse from the chair.

You look up at her guiltily. “Uh, yeah,” you say. “We’re kind of tired.”

Your mother eyes you suspiciously, then her gaze shifts to Bradley who is gathering his jacket. “Have a good night,” she says.

You nod quickly and turn to leave. Then, you hear Bradley speak, “Congratulations, ma’am. On your daughter’s marriage.”

“Thank you, Bradley,” your mother responds. “I suppose I should also thank you for not throwing Steven into the lake.”

Bradley chuckles. “There’s always tomorrow.”

You turn around to see a faint smile pass over your mother’s lips. “Yes, well, I’m starting to understand why you might want to,” she says.

Bradley’s grin widens. “I appreciate that, ma’am.”

Bradley glances back at you and offers his arm. You hook your hand through it as the two of you make your way toward the exit. Bradley opens the door for you to step outside. The wind picks up your hair and your skirt but, before you can start to shiver, you feel Bradley’s jacket drop over your shoulders as he walks past. The faint scent of his cologne still lingers on the collar.

“Thanks,” you say quietly as he skips down the steps toward the walkway.

He holds his hand out to help you descend and you take it hesitantly, letting go of him the moment you’re on the sidewalk. Bradley seems equally uneasy, walking a few steps away from you, his hands in his pockets.

The two of you stroll quietly up the path toward the beach. By the time you reach the boardwalk, the silence becomes noticeably uncomfortable, and you decide to address the issue head-on. “That was weird, right?” you say.

Bradley glances over at you, his eyes raking over your figure before meeting your gaze. “Was it?” he asks.

You bite forcefully into your bottom lip, your pace slowing considerably at his words. “Don’t you think it was weird?” you ask.

Bradley’s expression is inscrutable as he shrugs, looking over your shoulder at something in the distance. “It was alright,” he says, turning away to continue walking.

You pull at the collar of his jacket to wrap it tighter around your body, not overly pleased with his casual attitude concerning an incident that still has your head spinning and your stomach contents churning. It would be better if he’d found the situation awkward because then, at least, you’d know that your friendship is something he means to preserve once this is all over. The fact that he’s so nonchalant about the matter bothers you. “Are you mad at me still?” you ask, wondering if some lingering animosity might explain his indifference.

Bradley looks down at his feet and then over at you with furrowed eyebrows. “I wasn’t mad at you.”

You chuckle wryly. “Okay.”

Bradley stops walking so you come to a halt as well. “Are you mad at me?”

You shrug, not entirely sure how you feel.

Bradley purses his lips, slipping his hands into the pockets of his slacks. He watches you for a few moments before speaking. “For the record, I wasn’t interrogating your sister,” he says. “She offered that information.”

You nod, your gaze dropping to the wooden planks of the boardwalk, the distance between you and him like a barrier neither of you is willing to cross. The tension in your midst isn’t the sexy kind. It’s cold and quiet, as if you are each too stubborn to engage in polite conversation. “Yeah,” you respond glumly.

Bradley is watching you carefully, probably trying to decipher the one-word response you just gave. He looks like he might want to add to the discussion but, after another several seconds of silence, he seems to change his mind. He turns and starts to walk again. “Come on,” he says, going ahead. “Before you freeze.”

“You kind of bailed on me,” you say quietly, trailing behind him.

Bradley slows his pace, glancing over his shoulder at you.

“You started grilling me about my whereabouts this morning” –

“I was grilling you?” Bradley rounds on you.

“It was the worst possible time to have that conversation.”

Bradley scoffs. “So, according to you, I’m just going around interrogating everyone.”

You glare at him as he shakes his head. “And then you just walked away all pissed off like I was the one who offended you,” you continue despite the obvious resentment on his face.

“You did offend me!” he yells.

“You could’ve just told me that you didn’t ask her.”

Bradley watches you steadily. “I shouldn’t have had to. Do you really think that I would?”

Your teeth graze your lip as you lower your head so you wouldn’t have to contend with the intensity of his gaze. “I get that I ticked you off, but, well” – you sigh – “never mind.”

“What?” he asks, stepping into your path when you start to walk again.

“I said, ‘never mind’,” you respond impatiently, trying to walk around him.

He holds his hand out to stop you. “Tell me,” he says, his fingers closing around your arm.

You bite into the inside of your cheek. “I was counting on you,” you mutter, not looking at his face. “I mean, you came back, which I appreciate,” you add. “But, that entire first half of the evening kind of sucked,” you say, staring at the unbuttoned collar of his dress shirt. His neck is smooth and strangely attractive, and you start to wonder bitterly if there is any part of Bradley Bradshaw that you might consider simply mediocre.

His hand slips down the sleeve of his jacket over your arm, stopping to close around the tips of your fingers. “Your hand is freezing,” he says.

“Well, it’s fucking cold,” you retort.

Bradley snorts, but you’re still avoiding his gaze. He takes your other hand so that he could cup both your hands in his. You stare at his long fingers wrapped around your fists, detesting that every single thing he does makes you fall deeper and harder. But soon, the heat from his hands is soothing your tense muscles enough that you even take a slim step forward out of sheer necessity for warmth. Bradley’s hands tighten around yours, his eyes looking you up and down a couple of times.

After another few seconds of silence, he motions with a nod that the two of you should continue your trek to the chalet. Mutely, you bob your head in agreement. Bradley steps to the side, allowing you to move ahead while he places a hand on your back. His touch is so subtle, you can hardly feel it through the wool-blend of his suit jacket.

The rest of your walk is fairly uneventful. Neither of you says much, and Bradley keeps his distance, except when he reaches over to grab your arm, preventing you from stepping on a broken plank.

When you arrive at your door and Bradley slides his key into the lock, he pauses briefly, turning his head slightly without looking at you directly. “I shouldn’t have left you,” he says.

You watch him hesitate with the lock for a moment and you finally shrug in response. “I may have overreacted.”

He raises his eyebrows and glances at you with a smirk. “No,” he says.

You roll your eyes at his sarcasm, giving him a playful punch with a loosely formed fist. “I’ve had a stressful weekend, okay?”

He narrows his eyes skeptically. “Have you?”

You meet his gaze as he holds the door open for you. “It’s been dreadful,” you say with a hint of irony because Bradley will assume you’re joking but, really, pretending not to have feelings for your friend has been thoroughly dreadful indeed.

You bend down to take your shoes off as Bradley shuts the door. “Need some help with those?” he asks with a small grin as you go to remove them.

You chuckle lightly, reaching out to grasp his forearm for stability as you unclasp the straps. You step out of your heels and look up at his face. “You’re so absurdly tall,” you say.

Bradley laughs, the forearm you’re still holding flexing as his fingers graze your elbow. “Is that a deal breaker?” he asks.

Your breath nearly trips on the exhale as his eyes sweep over your face. He takes a step forward, his body now close enough that you can feel his pant leg brush against your knee. You let out a nervous laugh, unsure how else to respond to a question that sounds an awful lot like flirting. “Come to think of it, talking to you is kind of giving me a neck cramp,” you respond lightly as you shrug off his jacket.

He grins at you as you sidestep him to get to the clothes tree. “Let’s not talk, then?” he suggests.

You chuckle as you hang up his jacket, glancing back at him over your shoulder. “Let’s not,” you say.

“Good,” he says, slipping off his dress shoes after loosening the laces. “Tired of all your yammering.”

You snort trying to hold in a laugh. “Can’t stand the sound of your voice,” you add.

“Ugh,” Bradley groans. “So annoying.”

You purse your lips as your smile widens and Bradley chuckles, eyeing you mischievously.

“C’mere, you big dork,” he says, holding his arm out.

You lower your gaze, still grinning as you tuck your head into his shoulder. Bradley wraps his arm around you, giving you a couple of affectionate squeezes. “Am I actually annoying?” you ask, fully aware that Bradley was only teasing. Perhaps you’re just fishing for a compliment.

“Oh, very,” Bradley responds as the two of you make your way into the center of the room. “What is the superlative of annoying?”

“Most annoying?”

“Yep, that’s you.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Bet you can’t wait to be rid of me after this weekend,” you say, half-jokingly.

“About that,” Bradley says, lifting his arm off your shoulder. You detach yourself from him and look up questioningly. “Your aunt sort of invited me to Thanksgiving.”

You stare at him in shock. “What did you say?”

“I said, ‘why not?’” Bradley shrugs. You blink at him mutely, so he adds, “That’s okay, right? I mean, I figured you’ll need to keep up appearances.”

“What if I have a real boyfriend by Thanksgiving?” you blurt out without thinking.

Bradley watches you steadily. “Well, then problem solved, right?” he says.

You meet his gaze, but you can’t seem to read him. “Right,” you agree awkwardly.

He nods and, after finally looking away, he starts for the bathroom. Once he’s gone, you close your eyes and plop onto the bed with a whimper, rolling over onto your stomach to bury your face into the pillow. You want to scream because Bradley Bradshaw is so perfect, it hurts. How, how have you never noticed the sexy grit of his voice, or the seductive quirk of his mouth, or his fucking height? You imagine being cradled in his arms, soothed by the warmth of his chest, tucked away from the big, bad world.

You rest your cheek over the cotton pillowcase musingly, slipping your hand under your head. After your kiss this evening, you were hoping – like an idiot – that Bradley might want an actual relationship with you. Instead, he’s agreed to yet another family event as your pretend boyfriend, which is probably the best outcome you could hope for. Oddly enough, however, you’re not thrilled at the prospect. Perhaps you’ve had enough of faking not being attracted to Bradley Bradshaw.

“Are you going to sleep in your dress?”

You turn your head to see Bradley leaning into the frame of the bathroom door, his dress shirt undone. He’s got a comb in his hand which he runs through his hair as he watches you with a couple of raised eyebrows. “Just waiting for the bathroom,” you respond.

Bradley steps out and gestures for you to go ahead, so you lift yourself off the bed, dragging your pjs out from under your pillow. You feel his eyes follow you into the bathroom, but you refrain from turning back to look at him.

You stuff your pjs into a dry corner of the vanity, noticing Bradley’s toiletry kit sitting open by the sink. You peer inside it curiously, not sure why you find his toothbrush, razor, and aftershave particularly interesting. You turn on the tap with a sigh. Apparently, you find everything about Bradley Bradshaw interesting, right down to his favorite brand of floss.

After you’ve finished washing your face and removing about a hundred bobby pins from your hair, you change into your pajamas and glance at yourself in the mirror with a nervous expression. Interacting with Bradley is becoming more of a chore by the minute, and you are so ready for this weekend to be over. You run your hand through the soft waves in your hair that are the result of a daylong updo and then reach for the doorknob.

You walk out to find that Bradley is already in bed, or rather, lying on top of the quilt. You hang up your dress and turn toward him. Bradley lifts his head off the pillow, watching you walk over.

“What’s up?” you ask.

Bradley smiles at you. “Your hair looks awesome.”

You chuckle. “It’s such a mess.”

“It looks good, Y/N,” he says, propping himself up onto his elbow. You try to avoid fixating on the width of his bare shoulders, not to mention the rise and fall of his slightly sunburnt chest. You look at his face instead because, for some reason, you think this might be a safer alternative. You’re wrong.

Bradley’s mouth is curled up in a small smile as he watches you pat at the curls in your hair and this subtle manifestation of his affection for you sends your heart racing more than the sight of his shirtless body ever could. “I’ll get the light,” you say, changing the subject.

On your way to the light switch, you flip your hair a couple of times, wondering if Bradley is watching your back as you walk away. Naturally, you don’t dare check. You flick the switch near the door, taking advantage of the darkness to lean your head into the wall and gather the strength to spend another night sharing a bed with Bradley Bradshaw, who is so sexy you could die. Who kisses like a fucking dream. Who –

“Y/N?”

You open your eyes, turning around to face the inky darkness of the pitch-black room. “Uh,” you respond hesitantly, wavering on the spot. “How the fuck did you do this?”

You hear some movement at the far end of the room.

“I can’t see a damn thing,” you say as the bed creaks.

Bradley chuckles in response and you hear his footsteps as he walks around the bed and across the room. “Here,” he says, sounding much closer than you’d have expected him to be in such short a time. “Take my hand.”

You reach out tentatively, waving your arm around until his fingers close around your wrist.

“Can you not see anything?” he asks with amusement, pulling you closer so that he can guide you.

“Absolutely nothing,” you say as his palm lands casually on your hip, steering you toward the bed. You lift your hand to feel around in front of you, but, of fucking course, your hand finds Bradley’s bare abdomen instead of the dresser you’re trying to locate. His muscles contract under your touch and you withdraw your hand immediately in a wild panic.

“This way,” Bradley mutters, taking a small step toward you as he directs you away from whatever obstacle you’ve nearly walked into.

“Okay,” you respond breathlessly as his body presses into yours, his glorious abs once again finding the tips of your fingers. You give yourself an extra second to lightly trace the ripples of his impressive six-pack before letting your hand fall.

But Bradley catches it just as your fingers slip away, his breathing quickening as his face hovers over yours in the darkness. Slowly and ever so lightly, his hand glides up your arm. Meanwhile, you feel the eruption of every nerve ending along its route as though his touch is setting off a series of fireworks. “You okay?” he asks so quietly that his voice is more rasp than tone.

“Mm-hm,” you affirm, your mind whirring as you attempt to rationalize Bradley’s hand that’s now caressing your shoulder. Your fingers are still lingering on his stomach when he takes another step forward.

“Cold?” he asks, his breath on your cheek.

“Mm-hm,” you repeat, completely lost for words as his pelvis brushes against you. The way Bradley is handling your body is excessive if his only intention is to help you fumble your way to the bed in the darkness. The way he’s stepping closer and closer despite clearly being more than close enough to guide you is indicative of an ulterior motive.

“Tired of talking yet?” he mutters, the tip of his nose sweeping across your cheek.

You let out a weak chuckle, your body on fire from the way he’s holding you. From the way he’s speaking. From the way his thumb coasts over your collarbone as his hand drifts up the back of your neck. His body sinks slightly as he ducks his head to catch your lips in a kiss.

You feel the collapse of tension between the two of you like it was a physical wall, replaced all at once by an acute, chaotic desire. Bradley moves further into your space as you slide your hands up his chest and around his neck. His body crashes into yours with enough force to drive you backward.

You stumble haphazardly over the scattered shoes that you don’t remember leaving all over the floor. Bradley is kicking bags and purses out of the way, his grip tightening around your waist as the two of you accelerate toward the bed.

Everything about Bradley’s demeanor feels urgent, as though, now that he’s started, he can’t stop. And, somehow, this complete disintegration of his restraint is intoxicating. His hands are all over your body; your hair, your hips, your back. His lips are smooth, but the kiss is rough in the best way possible.

You crash into the bed and Bradley’s tongue curls into your mouth as you gasp. You feel his hands close around your thighs, lifting you off the ground. When you’re in his arms, you bring your hands up to his face, cupping his cheeks in your palms as you kiss him. He runs his tongue along your lips, giving you several softer kisses, his thumbs stroking the tender skin under the hem of your pajama shorts as his grip on your legs tightens.

You wind your legs around his hips, subtly driving your pelvis forward. In response, Bradley releases a fevered breath, his mouth travelling down to your neck, infusing fiery kisses into your jaw along the way. When you let out a soft moan, he lowers you onto the bed, sighing heavily as he climbs over top of you. His lips skim the fraction of your exposed skin just above the band of your shorts, his mouth moving slowly over top of your shirt up your stomach and along your ribs. He kisses your neck, your chin, the tip of your nose, and finally, he gives you a chaste kiss on the forehead.

Then, he collapses into the bed beside you, and you’re left panting into the darkness, your brain scrambling to interpret what the fuck just happened. But neither of you seems to be able to speak. You turn your head in his direction, wondering what’s on his mind. Of course, you can’t just ask him. That would be absurd.

“Um,” you say quietly. “Thanks for your help?”

Bradley lets out a laugh. “Anytime.”

You reach up to the side of your neck where Bradley left a particularly searing kiss, your fingers grazing over the tender patch of skin as your breathing slows. So, Bradley Bradshaw liked your fake kiss. Why else would he initiate a real one?

After what seems like a solid minute of silence, you lift yourself up to move over to your pillow and you hear Bradley shuffling to do the same. You lift the blanket and slip underneath it, shivering against the cool sheet. You close your eyes, thinking of something else to say. Obviously, you can’t just go to sleep after that.

Apparently, Bradley Bradshaw is of the same opinion. You feel his hand slide over your stomach and your eyes fly open. You turn your body in his direction as he shifts closer, his fingers curling gently around the dip in your waist.

“You still okay?” he asks.

“Mm-hm,” you nod, chewing on your lip as you slide a touch closer to him.

Bradley’s hand glides along the curve from your waist to your hip and back again. “Still cold?” he says quietly, his lips moving over the tip of your nose.

“Yeah,” you breathe, your fingertips drifting over his abdomen.

“Y/N,” he whispers as his hand sinks deeper into your waist, pulling you closer.

“Bradley,” you gasp breathlessly, placing your palm over his chest.

He seems to sense your hesitation because he says, “I think we might need that pillow wall tonight, YN.” He sighs forcefully, his hold on you tightening briefly before he releases his grip and rolls onto his back with a groan. You assume that he’s running his hands over his face because of the muffled sounds he’s making.

You’re buzzing from the desperation in his tone, as if knowing that he’s frustrated and wanting you is enough to get you through the night. Surely, he didn’t think sleeping with you would be that easy. Besides, there’s no way anything is happening while the two of you continue this charade of dancing around the truth. “I could go sleep on the couch,” you offer lightheartedly.

In response to this jest, Bradley wraps his arm around you, his enormous bicep completely enclosing your face as he pulls you into his chest. You place your arm over his side, your fingers drawing swirls into his back as you lean into his neck. You feel his hand on the back of your head, playing gently with your hair as he presses a kiss to the top of it.

…

You wake to the sound of knocking on your door. You turn to find that Bradley isn’t in bed, so you assume he’s gone out to get breakfast and is now trying to get back inside with his hands full. You slip out of the bed and head for the door, noting the path of destruction last night’s make out session has left in its wake. There are shoes everywhere.

You chuckle lightly and pull open the door. When you see Steven on the other side, you blink at him in confusion, your mouth slightly agape.

“Y/N,” he says, putting his hand over the door before you can close it in his face. He steps inside.

“N-no,” you manage to say. “You need to leave.”

Steven glances at the mess in your room with furrowed eyebrows just as you realize that the shower is on in the bathroom. You groan at your oversight. “I just want to talk,” Steven says, watching you desperately. “Please.”

“We have nothing to talk about.” You gulp when you hear the shower turn off.

Steven steps closer. “Baby, we’ve been through so much, can’t you at least give me five minutes?”

You shake your head. “We’ve already said everything we needed to say.”

“No,” he whispers, taking your hand in his. “Trust me,” he says. “You’re going to want to hear this.”

You stare at him mutely as the bathroom door opens and Bradley walks out shirtless, a towel hanging off his hips. His body is still glistening with moisture. “What’s going on here?” he asks, tossing aside his hairbrush as he makes his way toward you and Steven.

You rip your hand out of Steven’s grasp and take a step back with a sharp intake of breath. Steven is watching you without flinching as Bradley approaches. “Five minutes,” he presses.

You marvel at his audacity as Bradley comes up behind you, winding his arm around you to place a hand over your midriff. He tugs you backward.

Steven ignores him. “Please.”

You feel Bradley’s arm tense around your body. “I think it’s time for you to go, Steven,” he says darkly.

But Steven’s doleful expression pulls at your heartstrings and you lay your hand over Bradley’s on your stomach, peeling his fingers away. Bradley takes a hold of your arm as you turn toward him, searching your face probingly. “I’ll be five minutes,” you say.

Bradley stares at you incredulously. “Are you serious?”

You sigh audibly, turning to Steven. “Can you wait for me outside?”

Steven nods and steps out, closing the door behind himself. You glance back at Bradley, who’s watching you tensely.

“We dated for years, Bradley. I owe it to him – and to myself – to hear him out.”

Bradley scoffs, shaking his head. “All I’m hearing is that he’s wasted enough of your time.”

“This is the last time I’m ever going to see him. I can’t say no.”

Bradley sighs resignedly, watching you grimly. “You’re too good,” he says.

You lift your eyebrows at him. “Hardly.”

He nods. “You are. And he’s taking advantage of it.”

You stare at him for a moment, taken aback by the earnestness of his tone. “It’ll be okay,” you say finally, walking around him to grab a change of clothes and head into the bathroom. When you come back out, he glances up at you, eyeing your sundress with a small, wistful smirk. His gaze slips down to your legs and then back up to your face.

“Man, I almost feel sorry for the guy,” he says.

“What? Why?” you ask.

“Because if this is how you look the last time he sees you, he’ll never fucking get over you.”

You glance down at yourself with a giggle. “You like my dress, then?”

Bradley chuckles, walking over to you. “Please be careful,” he says. “I don’t trust this guy.” You nod as he pulls you into an embrace. “And yes,” he adds, his hands squeezing your shoulders as he breathes out steadily into the top of your head. “I like the dress.”

You give him a tight smile before heading for the door.

“Y/N,” he calls as you’re about to open it. You turn back just as he appears behind you and dips his head down to give you a parting kiss. This one is soft, and fluid, and slow. You sink into him as his tongue slides delicately into your mouth, his touch along your back disarming. The languid pace of his lips is torturous. The gentle pull on your bottom lip with his teeth draws a moan out of you and you all but forget where you are, let alone where you were planning on going. “Just so you know,” he says, his forehead meeting yours as you crane your neck to cling to his lips for a moment longer. “If he tries anything, I’m going to murder him.”

Read Part VIII

Tag List:

The rest of the tag list is in the comments! Might take a while because I can only tag 5 at a time. If I don't get to you, I'm sorry!

XOXO

@lonelywitchv2

@fanboyluvr

@marrianena

@anotherr-fine-mess

@mrs-obrien

@living-in-my-imagination88

@kindablackenedsuperhero

@whitewolfsbitch

@beebslebobs

@gretagerwigsmuse

@mak-32

@strangunddurm

@desert-fern

@maverick-wingman

@jamielovesbucky

@n3ssm0nique

@misshoneypaper

@roosterscockpit

@jakexfmc

@wintercap89

@gracielou0518

@averyhotchner

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@yeetzel

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@cynisarmy

@kwanimations

@onlygetaway

@hope-love-equality2

@shanimallina87

@ijustwantedplums

@oliviah-25

@gayforsteve

@gingerbreadandpaper

@vemonbby

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@alexxavicry

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@army24--7

@emmy626

@criminalyetminimal

@candid-confetti

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@thefandomimagines

@moony-artemis

@my-secret-life-1

@roostereads

@currentlybradshaw

@whisperofsong

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shankschewtoy · 9 months

Note

HELLO MY GORGEOUS EVOU DEAR <333

imma say this with no shame, i’ve never submitted a single request before 💀 yes, not a single one even tho i’ve been here for almost 2 years now -

so as you’ve submitted an amazing request for me before, i’m here to submit one ;)))

can we please get our beautiful doctor law, lost in the woods zoro and for the sake of august 6, our favourite rubber ball luffy with an S/O who looks absolutely perfect, but can’t seem to understand that she’s flawless and still gets self conscious all the time because she thought that people were staring at her and complementing her to make fun of her? like she thought that all those words were fake and people were being sarcastic.

i’m nowhere near flawless but i thought that a guy back in high school were making fun of me for all the compliments 💀 when we talked for the first time in a while a few weeks ago, i talked about that and he was offended af like ‘i literally told you i tho j you’re beautiful and cute everyday, how am i making fun of you you little-‘ 💀

so yeah, thought it’d be a fun little scenario <33

hope you’re doing good!! in case you haven’t heard it from someone today, ily <33

-leah

a/n - HI MY DEAREST LEAH 💜💜 AHHH TY FOR REQUESTING! I loved the request you did for me omg I still have it saved and I keep going back to it :)) ilysm and i love this idea 😭 and yes that guy from your high school is right, you’re literally amazing and gorgeous and I will make a point to tell you that (this is a threat)

Warnings ⚠️ - g/n reader, kinda crack (I’m sorry I can’t ever be serious)

- this guy has no shame and will tell you everyday that you look awesome

- “Oooo! That outfit looks badass y/n!”

- “WHOAA YOU LOOK LIKE SHANKS!” He had sparkles in his eyes, I mean- he just thought you looked so cool because you were wearing a super long coat! And colorful- pants.. (Just take it as a compliment I know it’s not a compliment but it is to Luffy) shanks has horrible fashion sense

- btw you changed out of your outfit that day 💀

- In public, you’re literally so perfect that even marines don’t want to capture you. They’re too dumbfounded that you’re so gorgeous, their brains literally explode, and they become dumb asf just looking at you

- but- you happened to think that they’re staring at you because they think you look weird or ugly

- So you cover up most of the time, all the staring has made you even more self conscious than before. Even when people compliment you, it seemed fake even though they were telling you the truth

- Luffy noticed you got uncomfortable with all the staring so he literally started growling and hissing at them (he’s feral) and acted as your little rubber guard dog

- “hey don’t look at y/n!”

- he didn’t know that they were looking at you because you were pretty, he thought they were admiring how strong and cool you looked

- so before that, he was all proud and showing you off in public

- “Isn’t y/n cool?! Yeah shishishi~ I know!”

- “Literally no one asked.” -random civilian

- luffy beat them up, no one talks smack about his gorgeous, beautiful, awesome y/n

- one day you got the courage to tell Luffy what you’d been feeling, and asked him if he really thought you were as cool and beautiful as he said you were

- “Huh?”

- man was confused. Like what? Are you joking right now? Because it’s not a very funny joke 💀

- “What do you mean?? I thought I told you yesterday that you looked as cool as shanks?”

- luffy that’s not a compliment when it comes to clothes

- “Yeah but- are you sure? I don’t think I look that cool.”

- he was so confused, how could you not think you looked cool??? His brain wasn’t working right, it just didn’t- make sense!

- “Y/n, you’re awesome! I don’t lie like Usopp! BELIEVE ME! YOU’RE AWESOME AND COOL!”

- he started shaking you around and wrapping his arms around you about 6 times, choking you and preventing you from breathing

- “OK- LET ME GO PLEASE I CANT BREATHE.”

- “NOT UNTIL YOU SAY YOU’RE COOL!”

- “OKOK I’M COOL!”

- “Shishi!! Ok!”

- it was a traumatic wake up call. Let’s just say that now you believe what Luffy says 😭

- he might not say it that often, but he thinks you’re a literal angel sent from heaven (has never said that to you because he’s a shy guy)

- but if you’re perceptive enough, you can catch him staring at you wherever, and whenever

- you could be tidying up the submarine, and he just can’t help but stare at you, his work can wait

- his eyes are blessed every time he sees you, I mean- how could you be so perfect? When you turn around to look at him, he’ll look back down at his work at the speed of light, trying to hide his red ears with his hat

- you swore you could’ve seen him staring, but whenever you ask, he just ignores you, “I don’t know what you’re talking about y/n. I’ve been working.”

- “you were staring at me.”

- “No I wasn’t.”

- “Yeah you were!”

- “Yeah because you look pretty in that shirt!”

- a silence echoed throughout the submarine, and both of your cheeks started to turn pink

- “You think I look pretty? Really??”

- man wanted to run away, but he didn’t want to make you feel bad, so he just awkwardly hid behind his hat in a cheap effort to make it seem like he wasn’t turning as red as a tomato

- “Yeah.. You’re pretty.”

- That right there is probably the biggest and most meaningful compliment you’ve ever received

- But still, even with a lot of other people saying you were pretty in public, it still felt like you just didn’t believe them

- all the staring actually made you even more self conscious, were their compliments just fake? They didn’t really mean their words?

- you weren’t THAT gorgeous right? (YES YOU ARE)

- “Law do you think I’m pretty?”

- He almost choked on his tea, he was literally shocked that you’d ask that dumb of a question. He looked mad at you, but then quickly wiped that expression off his face

- “Y/n. Bepo has made fun of me for WEEKS about how I keep staring at you. I don’t know how else to say it-? You’re pretty! Ok?”

- you’d never seen law so flustered before, his cheeks were literally bright red, his ears flushed the same color

- the great surgeon of death was at a loss of words because he couldn’t express in words just how beautiful and amazing you were. But law being as red as a tomato was kinda funny 😭

- “Law… You look like a tomato..”

- “Don’t make fun of me! And don’t tell the crew.”

- sorry law, but they were watching the whole time 💀

- with the way zoro is, he’s kinda bad at giving compliments, and he’s better at insulting people (mostly sanji)

- but when he first met you, he almost dropped his beer. He was amazed at how perfect and gorgeous someone could look

- he questioned whether he had died or not because wtf you looked like an angel

- since he was drunk, he swore he could’ve seen wings and a halo on top of your head 😭

- little did he know, you’d be joining the crew, and he’d be able to spend all the time in the world with you :)

- Zoro truly did believe you were some angel, all throughout your time together, he was still confused whether or not he had died and gone straight to heaven

- “Zoro?? Hello? Are you sleeping with your eyes open?!”

- he hadn’t realized that he’d been staring at you for so long that he looked like he had just been sleeping with his eyes open 💀💀💀

- “Uh no? I’m awake.”

- “You’re staring through my soul.”

- “Huh? I can’t help it if you’re so pretty! It’s your fault!”

- “WHA-??”

- zoro then paused, he had just admitted outwardly and quite loudly that you’re pretty. And bro just blamed it on you 😭

- “Why is it my fault?! And- I’m pretty?”

- marimo didn’t answer because he was so embarrassed

- “DON’T START STARING AGAIN PLEASE.”

- “I’M NOT STARING.”

- “YOU’RE LOOKING AT ME!”

- this argument continued for a while before Nami told you two to shut the fuck up so she could get her beauty sleep :’)

- but still, did zoro really think you were that pretty?? A lot of people told you that, but it felt more meaningful coming from him

- so a little while after your argument, you went up to him and just blatantly asked him

- “Zoro, do you think I’m pretty?”

- “I literally told you that an hour ago.”

- “yeah I know but do you really think so?”

- “Y/n why tf would I say it if I didn’t mean it?”

- Welp. There’s your answer, but your question kinda made him pissed 💀

- “Zoro I was just asking!”

- “Why though?! You don’t make any sense!”

- yeah don’t start with him- he just doesn’t get it, but you managed to get him to say you’re pretty about 30 times in that same argument so 👍

a/n - damn zoro 💀

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goldsbitch · 4 months

Text

That one missed lecture

part 3 to That one Christmas flight

summary: After a missed moment, both parties are trying to contemplate what to do next.

warnings: crushing hard, cheesy af, swear words I guess, typos probably, slow burn let's just admit that

"A what?"

Surely she must have misheard Teresa. Yes. Lando has been on Y/N's mind so much these past few days that she has officially lost it.

"Sorry, not what. Who?"

"I dunno, apparently this like formula racer or something. I don't really understand it - so like we were at Al Bricco right, as usual. And there was this guy who seemed to be super into that sport and he totally freaked out. Like, the racer guy just went in and immediately left, kind of embarrassing. He like proper asked for a photo and shit. And after the racer guy left, this dude was so high off that he paid for everyone's drinks at the bar. Was nice! Shame you had the thing you had, or whatever."

Yes. Or whatever. Y/N made up some excuse for last evening, so mundane even she forgot what it was.

It was Monday afternoon after the Imola weekend. The philosophy lesson was about to start in few minutes. Y/N cursed Teresa for keeping this one tiny detail about yesterday. For fuck's sake, they'd already had two classes together today! Plenty of opportunity to mention this. Nobody famous ever came to Bologna. Y/N would expect Teresa to make it a bigger deal. But then again, usually it would not be a big deal for neither of you.

"Yeah, shame I didn't order a bottle instead of a glass," Teresa proclaimed.

"Did you see him? The racer guy?"

"Yeah. He looked like a guy, honestly nothing special about him."

"Do you know like his name or the team?"

"No, the fuck would I know that. You're focusing on the wrong thing - you missed a fun night with free drinks."

Y/N felt like her mind just got the DRS.

There were 20 drivers on the grid - the chances were low. Y/N overcame her initial shock and tried to focus on the lecture that was about to start.

For some reason Hegel's Lord-bondsman dialectic was not able to win in the battle for Y/N's attention today. Since Teresa was of little help, Y/N turned to social media. Surely, this fan must have shared his photo online. And then, once she finally discovers the photo of Ocon or Tsunoda, she will be abel to return back to her actual real problems instead of her schoolgirl crush.

They say if you need to find the "corpus delicti" these days, ask a woman to scan social media. Source more powerful than FBI.

Y/N had to excuse herself after staring at a photo of Lando's fake smile while standing in her favorite bar. Pacing around was required right now. After all, show us a problem that can't be fixed by maniacally walking around the block seven hundred times.

In her favorite bar. Lando was in her bar. In a bar, where she would have been, hadn't it been for her actually trying to track down Lando. Out of all the places on this gigantic planet. In. Her. Favorite. Bar. Must have been some random game of destiny. Y/N was getting real mad at destiny. She cursed the stupid Christmas tradition, she cursed ever getting herself involved with formula 1.

She cursed herself for missing him. In both meanings of the word.

Lando forgot when exactly had his burner account turned completely Bologna centered. But it was impossible to escape that city. So he decided to leave that account be for a while.

His fitness trainer must have been happy with him. Lando burned his the tension and confused mix of feelings in his session like his life depended on it. He went on to stream in his free time to check in on his friends, who seemed a bit confused on where his head had been lately. In the course of few days, life got back on track. Y/N slowly leaving his mind and he parting with it peacefully. Yet every was covered under a gray cloud of nothingness.

It was a simulator day for him. He was supposed be testing new configurations. Lando was never really good at simulators, it completely lacked the realness of it, so he had to push himself to stay professional and be a proper teammate.

"I'm just not sure about this breaking set up," he commented quietly, perhaps even more to himself than others after missing another turn. His engineer however picked up on it and started to get into super detailed explanation on why they wanted him to use this configuration and did not fail to mention how great it job it did for Oscar this morning. Lando simply nodded and did not bother to engage in eye contact. He was in no mood for this debate and kept staring at the screen. Just let it all flow by him. This engineer had been on the team for quite some time, so he did not hesitate to try and cheer him up.

"Come on, man. You can't just sit there. The car won't start if you don't go for it, you know?" he said as a joke. When Lando did not respond, he began to second guess his judgement. "Or we could just take a break, what ever suits you."

Lando took a deep breath. "No, you're right. I can't just sit here and do nothing." He turned to his engineer with a different more energetic look. "When I crash, we just start again next time, am I right?"

"That's my boy!"

Y/N woke up the next morning to suspiciously large amount of notifications on her Instagram account. Someone liked every single one of her pictures and few of those where she was tagged and commented on one of her selfies "nice". Curious to what this was about, she went and checked the profile out. The only thing present on it was a black and white photo with some random numbers and letters. Ok, so nothing. Just some random weirdo or a drunken joke of one the uni friends. Because for a single moment she allowed her intrusive thoughts in - and expected Lando's account to be the one liking it.

Contemplating breaking the rule and reaching out to him was the only thing occupying her yesterday's evening. But what good would that do, his account probably being run by some PR people who would dismiss it as just another fangirl trying her chances. She thought a photo might be more helpful, but it was just the same thing all over again. No, she missed her chance and it was time to start moving on.

Her usual morning brain fog breaking espresso at a coffee bar in the centre did it's job well. A lot of paragraphs she was due to write were waiting on her. Only one lecture in the afternoon. A nice calm day to spend in one of the libraries. She loved Bologna. Great food and ever-present history has cured many crushes through out the ages.

"also nice" -another notification from the same account. Y/N contemplated blocking it, but it just seemed rude, so she just silenced her phone.

When took her phone out to listen to some music on the way to her lecture, she had three more comment.

"very nice" -appeared under a photo from one of her dinner parties with the local students.

"why no smile?" -it was a selfie, so what?

"thought you were the smart one, but starting to doubt that" - written under a random photo of Bologna's stunning libraries. So what, she enjoyed aesthetics too.

The one comment questioning her brain capacity stuck in head whole the way to her lecture. What the fuck was that about. Why was anyone spending their time so uselessly. The only thing on that profile was picture with some JL043 mash of letters. She had more important things to do.

A loud ding of her comments notification interrupted the lecture in the middle of it. She gave an apologetic look to her already grumpy professor.

"check my followers"

She sighed. That's it, she'll have a look and then block this asshole out.

Her heart sank when she saw that the only account this one was following was the Japan Airlines. JL043. The Christmas flight.

Y/N has already left one lecture because of Lando this week, so she was not about to it for the second time. But she might have as well done that, seeing she would not have been able to repeat a single point from this lecture.

Lando was not a patient man. Especially not after he has decided on something. And he decided on contacting Y/N. With the newfound fire in his veins, another burner account was created - can't let her see he was following every single one of her friends, bit weird. Well, once you've started you might as well finish it. Lando was happy that he did not posses any serial killer tendencies.

He was also a cheeky boy, not about to make it easy for anyone. Had to be fun.

So he liked all her pictures and put few comments. When she did not respond immediately in the morning, he continued. And again, and again. In the later afternoon, Y/N's account followed his and smile on Lando's face followed after that.

A message appeared shortly after.

"Hey you..."

part 4

_________________________________________

Tagged all those who like to suffer: @prudyhoo @anuksunamon @sagestack @esquerkaren @ushygushybaby @ilove-tswizzle @thehufflepuffavenger1 @superlegend216

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shellshocklove · 4 months

Note

Maybe a blurb about Peter freaking out on trying to find a gift for reader for Christmas cause he waited until the last minute and all reader cares about is that he makes it home safe? 👀

that was the worst christmas ever! | peter parker

pairing: peter parker x female!reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: christmas stress, self-deprecating peter, fluff

a/n: ok so hi! It’s been a while. these last few months have been hectic af– like on another level of hectic. i’m trying to get back a little to writing now that things have calmed down a little bit– so this is me dipping my toe into writing again. i hope there’s someone who’ll like this and merry christmas if you celebrate <3 (btw the title isn’t really connected to the story but gold star to the people who recognize the song)

main masterlist / ao3

Slow. Sweaty. Loud.

The buzzing of humming conversations. People’s winter shoes clacking obnoxiously against the tile floor. A distant ‘Ho-Ho-Ho’ from the creepy mall Santa, slapping the thigh of some poor little girl screaming for ‘Mommy’ as the camera flashed with saved memories.

The guilt gnawed at the back of Peter’s neck as he hurried from store to store.

“Sorry, that’s out of stock.”

“If it’s not on the shelf, we don’t have it.”

With every no, Peter’s guilt was starting to mix with panic. His winter jacket was too hot, suffocating him like the thought of you tomorrow morning with no present from him to unpack. He knows he fucked up. Who in their right mind buys his girlfriend her Christmas present on Christmas Eve?

Peter Parker– that’s who.

He didn’t intend to leave it to the last minute – it just happened! He swears!

With a sigh and a shaky hand running over his face, Peter fished out his phone from his pocket. Entering the notes app, he felt his stomach start to turn. Reading over your wish list, he scrolled to the bottom where he hovered his thumb over the red x emoji. Ready to mark himself a boyfriend failure.

Suddenly, his phone came alive in his hands. A picture of your smiling face lighting it up. Guilt’s teeth scratched harder at his neck as he pushed the little green button.

“Hi baby!” Peter greeted, a fake smile spreading over his face even though you couldn’t see him.

“Oh, thank god! Peter– where are you? We’re leaving for your Aunt May’s in half an hour.”

Peter could hear the worry in your tone. He couldn’t help but hear it every time you called. A worry that he wouldn’t answer because something had happened. That he was lying in the street somewhere bleeding out.

Peter squeezed his eyes shut while a hand came up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Yes,” he nodded to no one, “I know! I’m-I’m on patrol and I lost track of time– But I’m heading back now.”

“Peter,” you sighed down the phone. Peter stayed quiet, just listening to your breathing. He knew you worried about him – how could you not? You had every right to worry.

When you didn’t say anything, Peter drew a shallow breath, “I know– I’m sorry.” And he meant it – he always meant it – even when it felt like ‘Sorry’ was the word he told you more often than ‘I love you’.

“Peter– It’s okay… It’s okay just– just please hurry home.”

“I love you,” he hurried. A band aid over his bullet wound of disappointing you.

“I know– I love you too, Peter.”

Hot air washed over him as he exited through the revolving door of the mall. Out on the street he didn’t linger long. Busy New Yorkers hurried past him, splashing wet snow with every step. Digging his hands in his pocket, Peter made his way down the avenue while the wind bit at his cheeks.

Aunt May’s hugs were Peter’s favorite. The way she squeezed him just a little too tight, the smell of her signature perfume she’d worn since forever, and the wet kiss placed on his cheek. A few years ago, he’d playfully groaned and rubbed the kiss from his cheek with a roll of his eyes, but now as a twenty-something, he embraced them.

You were late, and it was Peter’s fault, but Aunt May didn’t seem to mind. The apartment looked the same as it did the last time he was here, sans the Christmas decorations and the smell of… cooking? Peter couldn’t believe his own nose as he snuck sneakily into the kitchen, leaving you and Aunt May in the hallway to catch up.

“May! Don’t tell me you actually cooked,” he called out with a disbelieving laugh.

Soon he could hear footsteps approaching before Aunt May passed through the doorway with you in tow. Peter caught your eye. Those kind eyes he always got lost in. He forgot to breath for a second. After three years together, you still managed to steal his breath.

“Damn right I’ve cooked,” Aunt May replied, a teasing lilt to her tone, “Don’t sound so surprised, Peter.”

“I’m not surprised– I’m impressed,” he teased, lifting the lid of one of the simmering pots.

A teasing pinch to his side made him yelp as Aunt May shooed him away from her stove.

Your sweet giggle filled the kitchen and Peter’s heart. He turned his head sheepishly to look at you where you were leaning against the door frame. An overwhelming urge to touch you came over him. You’d dressed up a little, it being Christmas Eve and all, and Peter thought you looked so pretty. Walking over to you he wrapped his arm around your shoulder. You looked at him with a smile, one that felt warm around his heart.

“Hi, rude boy,” you teased.

Knitting his eyebrows together he gave you his best fake-offended look, “Hey.”

Your only response was that same sweet giggle he loved to hear. Your eyes were soft, with smiling crinkles around your eyes. He loved when you looked at him like that– so much that he couldn’t help but press a soft kiss to your lips. It was short (to spare Aunt May of your PDA), but still tender. When he leaned back to look at you again your smile had grown even wider.

Aunt May’s dinner was surprisingly good. She’d been diligently watching some cooking show every night and gotten inspired to try to start cooking– for real. So, the dinner was great. The laughter hung in the air the whole night, making Peter almost forget about his earlier failure and nagging guilt.

While getting ready for bed, an idea popped into Peter’s head. He finished brushing his teeth in record speed, spitting harshly in the sink.

“Ew,” you mumbled through toothpaste, “Ook at that ig blob,” you pointed to the toothpaste he’d spat out that stuck to the porcelain. He locked eyes with you in the mirror – your teasing smile through the swipe of your toothbrush.

“Shut up,” he laughed and bumped his hip against yours before wiping the toothpaste away with his finger.

“Just making sure you’re not leaving poor Aunt May to clean up your mess,” you winked after spitting out your own toothpaste.

Sneaking away was the hardest part. You loved to snuggle before bed, never able to fall asleep until you’d laid in his arms and talked for at least half an hour. But Peter was patient – even if his eyelids felt heavier than the train he’d stopped that one time. When he started to hear your breathing start to get heavier and those small noises you always made escaped you; Peter crawled as gently as he could out of bed.

The living room of Aunt May’s apartment was bathed in a soft yellow glow coming from the Christmas tree in the corner. A strange forgotten feeling of the past clouded Peter for a moment. Memories of waking up in the middle of the night to sneak into the living room to see if Santa had come pushed their way to the forefront of his mind. This time though, he had to make sure Santa had left some presents for someone else.

“Who’s next?” Aunt May asked.

Outside a Christmas miracle was falling from the sky shaped as heavy white snowflakes.

“I have no presents left,” Peter said from where he sat at the edge of the lounge chair, his Christmas presents taking up most of the space.

“I have one left,” you said from where you sat pretty on the floor. The plaid pajamas adorning your body matched ones he was wearing. Peter watched with a bated breath as you picked up the homemade envelope.

“To my baby, from Peter,” you read his chicken scratch.

“Aw,” Aunt May cooed from the couch.

Peter had to fight the urge to cringe as he watched you open the envelope. His heart drummed in his chest, and it made him feel ridiculous. Digging your hands into the envelope you pulled out a handful of small paper squares. Watching your eyebrows knit together in confusion, Peter pressed his lips harder together.

“What’s this?” you asked, curious hands picking up a paper square to read. “Oh!” you laughed, slightly embarrassed but still sending Peter a mischievous smile.

“What is it?” Aunt May asked.

“It’s…” you laughed again, eyes dancing over the paper squares.

Curiosity killed the kat – or in this case Aunt May – as she leaned forward to snatch a paper square to read. You jumped at her movements before you chased after her.

“No, May,” you pressed, managing to steal the paper before she could read it, “Read this one instead!” You handed her another paper square before sending Peter a chastising but grateful look.

“Oh, it’s love coupons!” May exclaimed, “That’s such a good gift idea, Peter! So thoughtful of you.’1 movie night where you pick the movie’,” May read loudly from the paper coupon.

Dropping all the coupons back into the envelope, you stood to your feet and made your way over to Peter. You cupped his head in your hands and tilted his head to look up at you. Then you leaned down to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“Thank you, Peter,” you said against his lips before placing another kiss to his lips.

“You liked them?” he asked with uncertainty.

You just smiled before you gave him a nod, “I loved them,” you clarified and sealed it with another kiss. When you broke away you wrapped your arms around him to pull him in for a hug. A relieving warmth spread throughout his chest as he nuzzled his face in your neck. He felt you press a tender kiss to the spot behind his ear that made him weak.

“Can’t wait to cash them in,” you whispered in his ear, “Especially the ones who’ll put you on Santa’s naughty list.”

tagged: @hollandweather

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #tom holland #mcu!peter parker #andrew garfield #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter x reader #mcu!peter x reader #peter parker fanfic #spider-man #spider man fanfiction #peter parker fluff #spider man fluff #spider man x reader #*writing

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prince-kallisto · 6 months

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Crowley Levan is Meleanor’s “eyes, limbs, and husband”…wouldn’t it be cool if the one who married into the Draconia family had a crown/headpiece that resembled horns, worn for ceremonies, public appearances and the like?!

We haven’t seen Levan yet but I know in my heart he’s just a silly little guy as long as you ignore The Killings 💞

I talk more about concept art and costume details below the cut!

Levan’s headpiece is designed to have more of a live-action Maleficent feel, where she wrapped her horns in…fabric? Snakeskin? Whatever it was, it looked really shiny, oily, and really cool, so I tried to depict that texture to show how his horns are fake.

And sort of elaborating on the Draconia crown idea, perhaps each crown from every ruler who married into the family has its own unique shape? Levan’s halo-like shape is unique to him, so ones before him perhaps had more “traditional” dragon-like horns, and others had twisting ones like a sheep, etc etc. Since I’m OBSESSED with TWSTs religious symbolism- the Dawn Knight popped off with that winged helmet- I also wanted a halo shape to make Levan look slightly angelic.

The beads on his horns were slightly inspired by the mianguan, a formal headdress worn in ancient China. He also wears nail guards covered in shiny jewels… Let him be extra ✨

Levan having wings over his eyes like the Dawn Knight would be a fun parallel, and as a reference to him being Meleanor’s “eyes, limbs, and husband.” Like I mentioned in the comic, he covers his eyes and disguises his body under bulky clothing to be publicly dramatic af 😭 he takes his title way too seriously haha. The idea is that when he isn’t around Meleanor, he sheds his mask so he can report what he sees to Meleanor. But when he is with her, he “blinds” himself as a demonstration of trust. I’m sure he can actually detect his surroundings very well despite the mask- he just likes to play around and act dumb to make Lilia and Meleanor laugh haha. I haven’t thought much about the clothes under his cape, but I imagine it’s very like Malleus’ masquerade outfit. Something very streamlined and agile in case he has to enter a sudden battle or fly into the air.

And with my concept art, he was meant to have the shoulder feathers like Crowley and Malleus! They were like pauldrons covered in feathers. But when I was working on the final piece, I spontaneously changed it to fit the sketch for something more flowing and bulky haha. In my head, this bigger cape has a more “General” vibe to it? Something that draws your attention when Levan walks into a war room! Speaking of, I really love the fantasy-vibe of the costumes in Book 7- I feel like I can really go all out with Levan’s costume if the Dawn Knight is allowed to have a helmet like that!

This was super last minute in the painting process, but I’d like the inside of his cape to have constellations and stars all over it! I tried to draw the Corvus, Crater, and Hydra on the visible parts of his cape.

I prefer painting with ink far better than acrylic or even watercolor…so doing this in mostly black and white inspired me to give Levan porcelain-like skin, shading his skin almost like he was a doll and not a person. I think about how Diablo in Sleeping Beauty was turned into stone, so it’s meant to be a bit like marble too

I imagine Levan to have long, wispy hair that resembles briars and a bit like live action Aurora from Maleficent. Its very striking how he’s repeatedly described as “beautiful,” and although short hair is very beautiful in its own right, something about his mysteriousness and beauty gives me Aurora vibes specifically. Speaking of, Book 7 seems to be more obvious with combining elements from the original Sleeping Beauty and the live action Maleficent. Perhaps Silver could be the OG Aurora, but I can still give Levan live-action Aurora’s pretty hair haha.

When he wears his headdress and cape, he has his hair pinned up in the back. I’d like to draw my interpretation of Levan more in the future so you can see how his hair would look when it’s all down or in a ponytail. Perhaps Raven-Fae do more elaborate hairstyles that incorporates jewels/shiny things into their hair? Also, this inspiration is VERY specific haha, but if you ever read or watched Cardcaptor Sakura, Nadeshiko’s hair is very close to how I imagine his hair to be- very full and flowing! (Cardcaptor Sakura’s aesthetic snatched me up many years ago and has never let go since haha)

I don’t know, I just think it’s really cool yet ironic that Meleanor and Lilia talk about Levan as someone whose a crybaby, kind, beautiful, airheaded, but then Lilia casually drops that Levan is one of the top generals, an extremely skilled diplomat, and battled the DAWN KNIGHT and survived, when even Lilia hasn’t at that point. So I thought it would be fun if he had angelic themes in his outfit, while still making it clear that he’s dangerous.

Whoops this got pretty long! ∑(ﾟДﾟ) Haha, I think I like sharing my designs- not for the art it self but just to ramble about my entire thought process/inspiration/details! Although I try to get better at depicted all these ideas through the art itself, I can’t help but want to talk about it haha

#cant wait to be horribly wrong with his design #no seriously. I CANT WAIT SHOW ME LEVAN ALREADY. SHOW ME THE BOYYYYY ARGHHHHHH #twisted wonderland #twst #twst fanart #Twst levan #twst revan #twst papa draconia #twst meleanor draconia #Twst General Lilia #KallistoPost #my art

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autisticaradiamegido · 8 months

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day 255

okay i'll still finish this one too i prommy but i just had time for one today and i picked this one because it's just a liiiiittle more compelling to me for aradia to be the rose bride figure

disorganized rambling and mild utena spoilers under the cut

so there are these visual parallels that won't leave my brain, between the thousands of swords bearing down on anthy at the end of rgu/the thousands of aradiabots being wiped out by jack right before they enter the kids' universe, AND ALSO anthy in her coffin/aradia in the crypt at the core of derse's moon.

aradia does want to protect (or like, Avenge) the people she cares about. i mean that's kind of the whole impetus for her being killed initially. and she gets put in that crypt for it and then she dies a million times, across a million different doomed timelines. of course all her friends ALSO die in those timelines, but yknow. she could've just hung around until she quietly ceased to exist. INSTEAD though, she goes back in time and suffers a predestined violent death at jack's hands in order to make it all mean something, and to protect her friends in the alpha timeline from becoming doomed themselves.

and it all leaves her as the kind of person who is prepared to just watch with mild curiosity as reality literally disintegrates around her (which.... like anthy, is, to a certain extent, a façade. i mean i don't think aradia's curiosity about the end of reality is fake, but also she SAYS she's not going to participate in the Lord English fight and just let whatever happens happen, but then he kicks Tavros and she immediately jumps on his back and chokes him out so like. do we REALLY think she is 100% free of emotions about all of it?)

anyway aradia megido has suffered more than jesus.

there's also the whole. like. having this dude who really does not indicate that he sees her as a person At All try to trick/force her into a romantic relationship with him?? and her status on alternia at the absolute bottom of the hemospectrum. the little crisis we see her have about just being used as a tool by the whims of fate and the alpha timeline. anthycore af

and then there's jade! jade is incredibly incredibly brave and she wants to do right by her friends. she is EXTREMELY fucking powerful and she is not willing to take bullshit from anyone. she could absolutely open that fuckin coffin.

and she also has a lot of fairytale imagery that i think goes very much hand in hand with utena's whole prince deal. she has her whole sleeping beauty, princess trapped in a tower on a deserted island theme going, and she just... never really leans into it. other characters around her seem to expect her to lean into it sometimes! and utena is constantly bombarded by other characters telling her it would JUST be easier if she was a princess and let herself be saved by a prince. but ultimately jade and utena are just out here living their lives without all that because it doesn't actually resonate with them.

ALL THAT SAID i wanna reiterate this isn't like a full-on AU it's just like. some character comparisons that i think are Neat. I don't have like, a whole thing thought out beyond this drawing or anything lol

#day 255 #year 4 #aradia megido #jade harley #homestuck #arajade #revolutionary girl utena #like i said tho i will finish up the aradia-as-utena one too #i have different but imo less compelling thoughts about that one

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sgiandubh · 8 months

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I want to ship SC, trust me I do and I love them together, but I just can’t fathom how far they stretch a fake relationship (her and T). Like for example the recent picture of them holding hands- now it’s not an insane gesture but definitely one we haven’t seen before. So maybe they truly are just a private couple. But in my heart of hearts I just love her and S together so much, and don’t know what to think because on one hand they are simply everything together and on the other it seems like she really is with T. I’m confused 🥲 what’s your take?

Dear Confused Anon,

I will be brutally honest: no, I do not trust you and I do not care about your crocodile tears. Not a single bit. In fact, once I will be done with my answer to you, you are most probably going to press CTRL+C, then CTRL +V. And run to the nearest Mordor sweatshop, in the hope one of the Three Sopranos will insult me again.

You see, to trust you, I would have to speak with at least a handle, not a coward in disguise. And then, even DMs are neither always safe, nor always honest - I have recently learned it the rough way, despite my best efforts, tried (and up until now failed) to forgive and will never forget.

By now, I suppose everyone got a good look at this splendiferous picture:

Take a long, quiet, hard look at it, Shire.

So organic it could kill a moth colony on the spot.

So heartfelt - she doesn't even look at him.

So sentimental - that icy smile of hers. A happy couple, indeed.

A general round of applause, all across the Nation.

You are very wrong: it is not the first time they are holding hands, I mean, sort of. The much touted London marathon pic immediately comes to mind - although you'd have to admit, I looked and looked and he seemed to be checking her pulse, rather than being lovey-dovey.

A real private couple would never stoop as low as a cheap, laborious retcon, in retaliation for a couple of thousand people speculating on a niche blogging platform.

It took four years, a month and four days after that Remarkable Week-end to see McSideburns clumsily try and claw her hand. Remarkable, indeed.

And are you trying to tell me the MC didn't shake your beliefs and this does?

This perfunctory, formulaic, scripted AF, blip?

Wow. I have no words, Anon.

That unkempt, bland person - for God's sake, mister, tuck that damn shirt in your pants! - looking like the elephant in the china shop at a carefully curated event celebrating the supreme form of French refinement?

This is insulting, to say the least. To her (and her prized image), to Chanel, to this fandom, to S and believe it or not, to himself, too. Granted, the Berluti shoes are showing some improvement and are now clean. Hmph.

So here is what I think, Anon (and I know people are going to shriek and guess what, I do not care, for once):

It's been at least one year this fandom has been asking for this specific pic and for this specific whiplash. A childish tantrum, as she is regularly throwing. Mind you, that doesn't even come close to the painfully slow, monumentally boring Flukenzie Floozy Saga and looks as staged as the Ochoa & S London sighting (ah, patterns!).

This is the reaction to our scriptwriting ineptitude.

This is also the reaction to some underground shenanigans, directly related to a birth certificate apparently being peddled around. I will not discuss this, yet know just that: this is a legal claptrap, right there. I can, and if needed I will prove it. With the cold, surgical precision Mordor is so afraid of.

But she is a mother, for Christ's sake!

A mother!

As I said, I am not a mother and never will be. I do not wish this trial on anyone. But if I know something about life, I can guarantee you a mother would do whatever it takes to protect her child(ren).

Including taking precisely this kind of sad and forgettable pic.

So, there's that. We choose and we choose now: we fall for it once more and let the playbook fiddle with our insecurities once more and post endless trails of old pics once more to soothe the searing indignation.... Or GROW THE FUCK UP and show to whom it may concern we're not buying this shit anymore.

I know what I'll do. You're on your own, Anon: my tough love took you only this far, down the road. Sorry for the length. It was needed.

For the moment, I just booked an appointment with Miss Fotoula (roughly Claire, hehe), my genius hairdresser. I will ask her to refresh my dirty blonde mane.

#anon

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eetherealgoddess · 3 months

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Sorry if I’m interrupting you but can you make a enchantress fem reader who seduces yandere bonten and her plan is to poison them and report back to her boss her job is done but they caught on can you end with smut

The smut is gonna be dark af. Might be triggering for you. Just an extra warning. Hope you enjoy!! ♡︎♡︎♡︎

ꨄTo Fool Is To Be A Foolꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere Bonten, Fake Stripper Au

❦You are an assassin disguised as a stripper to poison Bonten❦

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

Not fully proofread

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

To Fool Is To Be A Fool

You release a giggle as you lean into the chest of the tall executive, his heavy lidded gaze staring down at you while you sit on his lap. One hand holding a cigar while the other is placed on your bottom.

You hold back from gagging as you attempt to be as flirtatious as you can without also seeming suspicious, occasionally feeling the mic under your lingerie pressing against the skin of your chest area. Fortunately, having been chosen to be a seductress before, you already knew the protocol for this mission. ‘Work’ at one of the Haitani’s clubs as a stripper for a few days, seducing them to gain access to the club, tricking the Bonten men into drinking the poison hidden in the alcohol.

While these specific Bonten members attend the club, the rest of your team will ambush the executives at Bonten’s headquarters. There is also a team, including your best friend and husband, and a few others who will be on standby, listening to your conversation in the vip room from the outside. Once the employee brings the spiked beverage in, they will drink and your job will be done once you make it out safely, reporting back to your boss.

The only problem was that the leader of Bonten decided to join the men deemed as easy to seduce, which wasn’t a part of the plan. He’s not known for drinking or smoking so he may not drop dead as the others will. Luckily, one against a team will never work out for the Yakuza boss, so he will end up dead one way or another.

You all sat in a circle of sofas and chairs, a long glass table in the middle. The three stripper poles sat on the stage, three ladies twirling and dancing as the men gambled and conversed. The hand on your bottom rubbed up your back as the music played in the background. Although you were focused on the executive whose hair you were caressing, you could feel the intense gazes of the other men who sat in the room, having become familiar with them all except the boss for the past few days.

The server finally came in with the glasses filled with poisoned booze, along with the bottle in the middle. She passed a cup to everyone besides you, unknown to the toxin that’s mixed in with the liquid. They’re all leaned back in their seats, man spreading while some sit with their ankle resting on their lap. The boss is leaned over with his arms against his lap, tired dark eyes staring at the bottle that sat in the middle. As you all thought, he didn’t even touch the glass that the server handed to him, having to place it on the table in front of the platinum haired male. An eyebrow raises as you notice the men who held their glasses, setting them on the table.

“Pretty girl.”

A hold on your chin turning you to face the rest of the men, causing you to shift on his lap to turn your whole body with your back against his chest. You're forced to face the boss who sat across, the other executives holding amusement on their faces while his expression stayed stoic. The glass is held in front of you from behind, the executive taking a hit of his cigar before blowing the smoke out.

“Why don’t you take the first sip?” You felt the vibration of his sultry voice against your back, keeping your expression straight so as to not ring any alarms. The team tenses as they listen to his suggestion.

“I’m not allowed to drink our guests’ beverages.” You smile politely, using your hand to gently move the drink to the side, your hand dropping when you see his grip tightening around the glass, holding it in place.

A deep chuckle released from a few of the men who sat in front of them, a particular executive who had his arms stretched across the top of the sofa as his leg was crossed. Using his index and middle finger to grab the blunt out of his mouth, a smile growing on his face. He sits up to pass the blunt across the table to the golden eyed man.

“We own this club. Take a sip.” The younger Haitani states. Your smile slightly drops as you bite your lip, nerves beginning to take over as you try to gain control of the situation.

“I’ve already drank enough tonight. I don’t want to fall off the pole.” You chuckle, hoping a joke will deter the direction in which this is going.

“I don’t think you understand, Y/n.” The one with blonde strands states, licking his lips before taking another long drag from the wood. He ashes it before passing it to the one with a pink mullet.

“If we tell you to do something, you do it.” His smile drops as he stares into your eyes, your own smile dropping as your heart begins to pound. You shift in the older Haitani’s lap, beginning to pick yourself up before he puts the cigar out and wraps his free arm around your waist, glass still in front of you.

“Ah, ah, ah. Where do you think you’re goin, princess? The fun’s just begun.” You could hear his smirk in his statement.

“Why do you look so nervous?” The pink haired man questions before putting the blunt out. “It’s just a little booze. What’s the problem?”

“Say the signal, Y/n! Goddamnit!” Your husband whispers as his nerves are struck, hand trembling while holding the gun as he fears for your life. Your friend bites her nails as she awaits the word, eyebrows furrowed as the rest of the team listens in.

“Shit!” The commander hissed, throwing his pager on the ground in anger. Your friend turns to him as well as some of the other members.

“What’s going on?” One of the teammates questions in confusion, eyeing the man who paces back and forth of the hall, rubbing the sweat off his forehead.

“Their line was cut off abruptly. They had only just entered and all he screamed was ambush.”

“What does that mean?” Another teammate asks. The commander looks up with pure discomfort written on his face.

“It means they knew we were coming.”

“Y/n.” You look into the boss’s direction.

“Drink it.”

You stared at the liquid, face morphing into displeasure as you pause. Your eyebrows furrow with frustration as you realize you have failed your mission. You know that they know and now you have to evacuate the situation. Swinging your arm, you knock the glass to the floor, toxic liquid splashing as the glass shatters.

“S-O-S!”

The men immediately stood up with their guns facing the team who barged in, the room erupting in chaos and gun shots as the strippers left the stage, covering their heads in fear. The hand around your waist tightened as you tried to rid yourself of his grip. Your pressure point is pressed resulting in your body limping as darkness engulfs your vision.

You wake up to what you would imagine hell sounds like, screams of pain in the distance as the stench of residue death and blood reaches your nostrils. Opening your eyes, you come to your senses as you look down and see yourself completely bare. Eyes widening as you notice the tightrope that’s tied around your wrists and ankles. You’re lying on a worn out bed, bare mattress as your arms are stuck above your head, as well as legs spread as you struggle against the rope. You stare at the grimy floor, dried blood and bones lying around the room.

You eye the ceiling of the warehouse, bright lights hanging above as you shift your gaze to the machine that holds two thick vibrators below you near your ankles. Your eyebrows furrow as you notice the huge screen displaying a lot of movement in front of you, releasing a muffled scream as the cloth against your mouth blocks your speech.

“You’re awake.” You turn your head, only just now noticing the old couch facing the screen on the right side of you. Sitting on your right were three men, one of them walking towards you as the rest drank their alcoholic beverages. Two chesterfield chairs sat on your left, facing the screen.

Manjiro sits on the bed next to you as he looks ahead, all the while the screen displaying the members of your team running around and shooting as well as being shot at. Your heart pounds as you search for your husband and best friend, tears threatening to fall as you deny the thoughts that fill your mind.

“You put on an exciting show, I’ll give ya that.” Kazutora chuckles as he watches the screen, leaning back on the couch as he glances at you.

“Very entertaining indeed.” Ran takes a sip of his drink, sitting back with his legs crossed in the chair.

“You almost got us, Y/n.” Rin states, sitting on the chair next to his brother. “Pretty impressive for a conniving slut.”

“To think you could deceive us for as long as you did. Disgraceful.” Sanzu hissed as he narrowed his eyes, watching himself shoot another enemy on the screen. You could only watch in silence as Mikey’s gaze turned to you.

“Unfortunately, you’ve caught my attention.” He says as a hand slowly runs up your stomach, his fingers gripping your naked breast. Your eyes squint as your face warms with embarrassment and disgust, discomfort from being naked in a room full of your enemies. You feel so raw and vulnerable as you're humiliatingly nude for everyone to see. You wince in pain as the boss squeezes your nipple, pulling it harshly as he holds it in place.

“Keep your eyes on the screen.” He demands, releasing your nipple as he walks back to his seat on the couch.

You watch in fear as the screen displays two of your favorite people who are forced to kneel as they’re tied, facing the camera with tired looks.

“Where’s… hah….my wife you piece of shit?” He pants, his face and uniform bloody as his hands are tied behind his back. He grunts when a kick is met with his stomach before the person steps on his back, shoving him on his face.

“Shut up.” Kazutora hissed, grabbing the man by the collar and forcing him to sit up, only to kick his stomach again.

Your hands turn into fists as you struggle against the restraints, whimpering as the rope rubs into the tender skin. Sweat drips down despite the cold room, your body completely tense with anxiety. Your friend is quiet, barely awake as she leans over, grunting when she’s hit with a baton on her back.

“Sit up.” Ran states with a sly smile, a relit cigar in his mouth as he grabs her hair and yanks her up.

Sanzu crouches next to her. “Smile for the camera.” He grabs her chin as he forces her to face the camera.

Mikey pulls out the remote, clicking a button as the bottom vibrator extends, heading towards your bottom. You yell against the cloth as it comes closer to you, wiggling your body as you shut your eyes, bracing yourself as it makes contact with your anus. You groan in pain as it eases into your dry asshole, your stomach tightening as your head falls back and legs tense. The residue lube on the vibrator makes it easier to slide in, though the pain remains. The movement halts as soon as the object is deep inside of your ass.

“Watch the screen, Y/n.”

You return your teary gaze back to the screen, complying to not receive worse treatment. A lower setting is clicked as a sensation begins inside of you, buzzing along your walls. You squirm against the weird feeling as you watch your husband get kicked in the face by Rin, blood shooting from his nose before he drops his head, spitting a few teeth out. You grunt as the dildo is dragged out, rubbing along your walls as it continues buzzing before it’s pushed back in deeply.

The motion repeats as you throw your head back, the pain becoming a weird sensation that stimulates the walls of your ass, a fullness taking over as your hole becomes used to the size, the speed accelerating only slightly as your vagina becomes naturally wet, juice oozing to your asshole. Your nipples are rock hard as the cold air kisses them, the screen displaying your friend being snatched by the neck before she’s thrown against the ground, the end of the baton pressing into her back as she groans in pain.

The lower vibrator continues to buzz as it stops pulling in and out of you, pressing inside of you as the top vibrator moves closer to your pussy. You whimper as you cry against the cloth, watching as your husband gets shot in the shoulder by Kazutora, screaming in pain. Tears stream down your face as you watch Sanzu use his katana to stab it through your friend’s calf. Your friend screams, tears fall as she yells out an ugly cry.

Blood splatters as he yanks it out causing another cry to leave her mouth just as the vibrator eases into your vagina which causes you to cry out along with your friend. A pain forming considering the lack of vaginal juice, there only being enough for the rubber cock to enter deeply. It’s pressed against your cervix as it’s held there, the lower cock moving against your anal walls. You squirm once more, shutting your eyes again as you breathe through the pain.

Just as the cock pulls out of your vagina slowly, it’s shoved back in deeply as your head drops back. It repeats the process as your vagina becomes easier to access, rubbing along your g-spot with each thrust. Conflicting feelings form, a pleasure coming from your lower half as you watch the screen in terror. You glance at the men who were all facing the screen, watching themselves torture your family.

Ran stands from the chair as he walks to your bed, the rubber cocks accelerating their speed as one goes in and the other goes out. He leans over as he eyes your burning face.

“You’re a very lucky girl, Y/n.” He says before his lips meet with your cheek, a thumb grazing your sweaty forehead as you look back at him with wide eyes. You follow the other hand that came from your other side, the fingers caressing your neck.

“Otherwise you’d have the same fate as them.” Sanzu says before leaning over and kissing your lips above the cloth, his fingers circling around your neck as Rin and Kazutora walk to either sides, eyeing the dildos as Mikey pressed the button for them to go the same pace as well as thrusting into you at the same time, the rubber in your vagina hitting your g-spot repeatedly as it speeds.

Your hips buck uncontrollably as the sensation becomes intense, Kazutora reaching over to rub your clit as your arms pull against the restraints. You couldn’t hold back from the groans and whimpers that left your lips. Sanzu moves his hand to your chin as he turns your head slightly, biting your ear before licking along the lining. Ran lowers his head to your neck, sucking and kissing the tender skin as Rin lowers his head to your nipple, flicking the nub with his tongue before he closes his lips around it.

The katana slices through her opposite leg, hands gripping the handle making sure to add pressure to the wound.

“Please! Please just kill me!” She cries out, snot and saliva leaving her mouth as she tasted her own salty tears, the blood puddled under her causing a wetness to form against her pants.

Your husband is kicked from under, a shoe connecting with his testicles as he gives out a silent scream, losing his breath as his face turns completely red. Another punch, another kick, and another hit lands before another shot rings out, a bullet penetrating his lower back as another bullet penetrates his other arm. You turn your head to look away from the gruesome scene.

You finally begin to cry as the cocks penetrate your holes, engulfed by your own juice as they speed up. Pleasure shoots through you with each hit of your cervix, hips grinding against the rubber as you feel shame and embarrassment from the sensation as your husband and friend are being tortured right in front of you.

“How could you be so turned on by the sight of your loved ones dying?” Rin teases against her nipple, eyeing up at her with lazy eyes.

Mikey presses the button to accelerate the speed once more, your body tensing at the newfound electrifying feeling that pounds your pussy. You wail against the cloth as you watch the katana slice through your friend’s torso before it's pulled all the way through, half of her body detached from the rest as it falls over. You grunt and cry out more as your husband was shot repeatedly by two different guns, bullets going up his body repeatedly before landing in his torso as well as his neck, and head. His lifeless body falls limp as your head falls back.

Your hips buck up as you orgasm, screaming against the cloth as the cocks continue to overwhelm you as well as the fingers speeding against your clit while the camera is turned off, resulting in a white screen. Your eyes shut tightly as tears fall, the dildos going at a rapid speed as you near another forced orgasm quickly, your body convulsing as your nails pierce your palms.

“How does it feel to cum so hard while watching your loved ones die? Do you feel dirty?” Kazutora smiles as he continues to rub your clit, the dildos continuing to rub against your walls.

“You should. It’s disgusting.” Sanzu hissed against your ear before biting your neck.

Mikey walks to the end of the bed, staring at you with sunken eyes as you watch him turn up the vibration.

At this point your eyes were far up your head as you trembled against the feeling numbing your core, forced to release another orgasm as you grind it out.

Finally, the dildos vibration halts before they’re slowly pulled out of your pussy and anus, as well as Kazutora removing his fingers. All of them move back from you as you breathe heavily, tears still falling from the traumatic event you watched in front of you.

“Welcome to your new home.” Ran smiles as he pats your head.

“If you behave, you’ll get to move to our shared estate.” Kazutora beams.

“Till then, we’ll give you time to think about what you’ve done.” Rin states.

When the executives walk to the exit, Mikey stands above you. He only stared down at you before he turned to the screen and pressed the remote to replay the footage. The buzzing dildos come toward your holes once more as he leaves the room. You scream for help and beg for him to turn the video off. You cry hysterically as you're forced to take the rubber cocks once more as you watch your husband and friend get tortured again.

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