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why’d i forget seann william scott was in jackass 3D

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my biggest enemy and also my closest friend

Can I just say he's one of the men to ever

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he’s so cute that he makes me go EWWWWWWWW!!

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rip erik campbell you would have loved trolling your neighborhoods facebook group … 💔💔💔

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can we get sub!bam being teased by a reader he has a crush on? also sweet bam is my weakness 👀

WRONG SIDE OF THE CAMCORDER

Sub!Bam Margera x Female reader one shot.

word count: 1594

Bam always had a camera.

And that camera? It saw everything.

The bruises, the blood, the dumbass stunts, the victory laps when someone took a skateboard to the shins or flipped off a roof into a kiddie pool. Bam didn’t just live in the lens—he fed off it. Attention, chaos, the screeching noise of boys with too much money and too few brain cells. It was his element.

Until you started showing up in frame.

You were new. Sort of. A friend of a friend. Maybe Raab dragged you in, maybe it was Dico. No one remembered. But one day you were just there, standing in Bam’s driveway with a slushie and a look on your face that said, you thought this was going to be dumber.

And God, he noticed.

You weren’t loud. You didn’t flinch when shit exploded. You didn’t try to one-up anyone.

You just... watched. Smiled sometimes. Laughed in a way that stuck in his teeth.

And then you started teasing him.

It wasn’t obvious. Not at first. You were good.

You didn’t flirt. You observed.

Bam would trip mid-sentence when you bit into your straw.

He’d get tongue-tied when your leg brushed his under the kitchen table.

You’d say his name in this slow, syrupy tone—“Bammm”—and it made something in his stomach do a stupid flip every time.

You never said anything cruel. But every word had teeth.

And Bam—cocky, chaotic Bam—loved it.

Even if he couldn’t admit it. Even if it made him act weird and fidgety and unlike himself.

You sat on the arm of the couch one afternoon, camera rolling across the room while the guys debated duct-taping Ehren to the back of a moving van. Bam was across from you, foot bouncing, fingers flicking at a lighter he wasn’t even using.

“You always this twitchy, Margera?” you asked, not even looking up from your phone.

He blinked. “What?”

“You keep playing with that lighter like it owes you money.”

Bam forced a laugh, tossing it onto the coffee table like it burned him. “Just thinkin’, that’s all.”

You finally looked up. And shit, when your eyes landed on him it felt like gravity flipped sideways.

“About what?”

He shrugged. “Ideas. Stunts. You know.”

You smirked. “Sure.”

One word. So simple. So smug.

And that smirk. It curled like a question mark—like you knew damn well he was full of shit.

The thing was: Bam couldn’t think when you were around. Not clearly. Not without his head drifting to places it shouldn’t. To how your laugh snagged on the ends of words. To how you leaned just a little too close when you passed him the remote. To that night on the halfpipe when you slid up beside him, sneakers dangling, asking if he was always this dramatic or just trying to impress you.

He’d laughed too hard, voice cracking, and said “both.” You’d snorted. But your knee stayed touching his for longer than necessary.

The worst part? The others noticed.

“Yo, Bam,” Knoxville had grinned once, nudging him in the ribs. “You trying to keep your cool or what? You look like you’re trying not to pop a boner every time she says your name.”

Bam nearly choked on his soda.

He denied it. Of course.

Laughed too loud. Faked offense. Told them they were full of shit.

But inside, he knew.

They weren’t wrong.

One night, you crashed at Castle Bam after an especially stupid shoot. Preston had somehow ended up in the lake. Dunn was passed out in the garage. You were curled up on the couch in one of Bam’s oversized hoodies—his favorite hoodie, stolen from his bedroom without asking—and watching him scroll through footage on the camcorder.

“You ever record yourself?” you asked, tone feather-light.

Bam blinked. “What?”

“You know. Like, really record yourself. Not a stunt. Just… you.”

He paused. “Why would I do that?”

You shrugged, shifting closer. “You’re always behind the camera. Thought maybe you wanted to see what you looked like when you’re not bleeding.”

He laughed. “That sounds lame as shit.”

“I dunno,” you said, teasing. “I think you’d look cute.”

Bam went rigid.

Heart up in his throat.

Mouth suddenly dry.

Cute?

You’d called him cute?

“You think I’m—” he fumbled, ears going red.

You grinned, leaning in so close he could smell your shampoo. “I think you hate being called cute.”

“I don’t—”

“You do. You don't wanna be that, right? Tattoos, loud mouth…” you dragged your finger down the sleeve of his hoodie, slow as molasses. “But you blush too easy, Bammie. Gives you away.”

He was going to die.

He was going to melt into the couch and die.

“You’re messing with me,” he muttered, voice cracking like a pubescent kid’s.

“Maybe,” you whispered. “Maybe I like seeing you squirm.”

And you did see it—the way his knee bounced harder, the way his fingers clenched on the camcorder like it could anchor him. The way he looked at you like he didn’t know whether to kiss you or run away.

You didn’t push it.

You never did.

That was the worst part.

You always left it right on the edge.

Just enough to drive him crazy.

Just enough to make him dream about you later, alone in his room, fists clenched in his sheets, whispering your name like a secret.

He wasn’t used to not having control.

With a board under his feet, with a prank on his tongue, with chaos in his hands—Bam owned the moment. He was the storm. The ringleader. The boy-king of destruction. He could flip a shopping cart into traffic and walk away laughing. He could pull off a stunt that left everyone bleeding and somehow still be the coolest guy in the room.

But not around you.

Around you, Bam became... weird. Clumsy. Soft.

And it wasn’t just that he had a crush—it was that you seemed to know.

And worse—you were playing with it.

And God, he let you.

He wanted you to.

Even now, on that worn-out couch that smelled faintly like Doritos and smoke, he was staring at the edge of your jaw like it might give him answers. The hoodie you wore was his—faded black with the pocket half-torn—and you stretched in it like you were trying to kill him. The hem rode up your thighs when you shifted to get more comfortable, and Bam, like a fucking idiot, looked.

Of course he did.

And you caught him looking.

Didn’t say anything at first. Just arched an eyebrow and sipped from your drink with maddening nonchalance.

“Y’know,” you said casually, eyes still fixed on the TV screen, “I should start charging you.”

Bam blinked. “Charging me?”

“For how much you stare. It’s basically a service now.”

His ears went hot. “I wasn’t staring..”

“Oh, right.” You turned your head slowly, grinning. “You were just analyzing the fabric quality of your own hoodie riding up my thighs?”

Bam looked like someone had smacked him in the back of the head with a frying pan. He blinked. Flushed. Stammered. Then muttered something about needing another beer and practically bolted toward the kitchen.

You followed.

Of course you did.

He fumbled with the fridge door, fingers not working right, trying to focus on beer labels and not on the soft pad of your footsteps behind him.

“You’re cute when you run away,” you said from the doorway.

“I’m not—running—”

“You are,” you grinned. “It’s okay. I think it’s charming.”

He made a strangled sound. Closed the fridge door too hard.

You stepped in. Real slow. Arms folded, eyes twinkling like you knew exactly what you were doing—and, of course, you did. You always did.

“You really gonna keep pretending you don’t want me to tease you?” you asked.

He looked at you. Really looked. His chest rising too fast, palms sweaty.

“I just... don’t know why,” he said, voice low, words cracking like dry leaves.

“Why what?”

“Why you do it.”

You tilted your head. “What, tease you?”

He nodded. Looked down. Fidgeted with the label on his beer.

There was a pause.

Then you took a single step forward.

“Because you let me,” you said gently. “And because you’re fun when you squirm.”

“I’m not fun,” he said. “I’m a fuckin’ mess.”

“You’re my mess,” you replied, so soft it made his pulse stutter.

He looked up.

You weren’t smiling this time. You were just looking at him, earnest and dangerous all at once. And he swore the floor tilted under his feet.

The silence stretched.

Then, without thinking, Bam said, “What if I want more than just that?”

It came out too fast. Too raw.

Your eyes softened. Not in pity. Something else.

“Then stop hiding behind the camera,” you said.

He froze.

You stepped up, took the beer from his hand, set it on the counter. Then, with impossible slowness, you reached for the camcorder slung around his neck and clicked it off.

“No more lens,” you whispered. “Just you. Just me.”

Bam swallowed hard.

He wasn’t bleeding. He wasn’t falling off a roof. He wasn’t screaming at Knoxville with a firecracker in his ass.

But his heart was pounding harder than it ever had on film.

And you? You just smiled. Stepped away. Left him there in his kitchen, reeling.

You always left just enough.

Just enough to keep him coming back.

Just enough to keep him burning.

Just enough to make him wonder how long it would take before he finally asked you to stop teasing—

—or never stop again.

[lowpolyhagrid]

Playing

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love when he pulls the 😛

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they’re coming soon i swear!! i’ve been so out of motivation!!

julia and stefani x reader fics coming sometime tomorrow… HOPEFULLY!!!

[lowpolyhagrid]

NSFW Alphabet // Bobby Campbell.

pairing — bobby campbell x fem! reader

warnings — 18+, p in v, mentions of hand jobs, mentions of blow jobs, face sitting, begging, using ropes, orgasm control, praise kink, teasing, mentions of semen, dom/sub dynamics, sub! bobby, mentions of masturbation

a/n — i know yall were waiting for this one, ya nasties. me too.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

— The most cuddly thing you’ve ever experienced. He doesn’t let go for a solid 15 minutes after, it’s full-body clinging, face pressed against your chest, arms around your waist like a lifeline.

— Whispers little “thank you”s into your skin. “That was so good… you’re so good to me…” He’s dazed, floaty, and completely pliant.

— He lives for being stroked afterward. Hair, back, thigh, he’ll nuzzle into your palm like a sleepy puppy.

— Also? He’s obsessed with praising you. “You took such good care of me,” he mumbles, still red in the face, “I don’t deserve you.”

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

— On himself? His arms but only because you like them. He flexes when you’re watching, loves the way your fingers trace his biceps and make him blush.

— On you? Your thighs. Whether they're thick or lean, soft or strong, he’s just obsessed. Loves resting his head there, being pinned between them, whining into them. He calls them “his favorite pillows,” and honestly? He’s not joking. He’d fall asleep in your lap any day.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum)

— So messy. The kind of boy who apologizes while whining through an orgasm—“Sorry, I can’t—can’t hold it…”

— He’s sensitive. Like, twitching from overstimulation after one round, but ready to go again if you even look at him the right way.

— Loves it when you control when and how he gets to finish. Whether you’re edging him or coaxing him through it—he’s your good boy, just trying to please.

— You could absolutely get him off just from praise and some slow strokes. He’s that desperate for you.

— One thing he loooves is when you ride him raw but you make it clear he can’t finish inside and no matter how close he is, you just keep going without a care. He’s in tears, gripping the nearest solid surface while trying to hold his orgasm back.

D = Dirty secret (a dirty secret of theirs)

— He’s fantasized about you tying him up. Not even in a scary way, just soft ropes, wrists above his head, thighs spread while he looks at you like you’re divine.

— Has definitely stolen one of your panties and gotten off to your scent. He hid it under his pillow for a week.

— He gets off to the idea of you scolding him. Not cruelly, just dominant, teasing, telling him what a needy, whiny mess he is for you. It wrecks him.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

— A virgin before he met you.

— What he lacks in technical skill, he makes up for in enthusiasm and responsiveness. He listens to your body. You teach him, and he learns fast.

— He’s the kind of boy who moans just from pleasing you. Watching your face twist in pleasure? He gets addicted to it.

— Within a few months, he’s a certified whimpering mess who knows exactly how to beg just right.

F = Favorite position

— Missionary, but with you on top. Watching you ride him while he pants and grabs at your thighs like he’s trying not to pass out? His idea of heaven.

— Also loves when you sit on his face. He’ll whine when you pull away, hands clutching at your hips, eyes begging for more.

— He’ll let you fold him up, pin his wrists, anything, he just wants to feel yours.

—Loves positions where you can pin him down and make him watch you take what you want from him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

— Normally a little goofball, but in bed? It’s like his brain switches to soft, overwhelmed sub-mode.

— He’ll whimper and whine, blush and babble. sometimes he says the dumbest, sweetest things. “You're so hot—like, scary hot. Like villainess-in-an-anime hot.”

— Occasionally a little clumsy (bumping heads, fumbling with clothes), and he apologizes profusely, face flaming red. You just laugh and kiss it better.

— Still giggles if something silly happens. He’s serious when it counts but always with that golden retriever warmth behind it.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they?)

— Natural blonde, slightly darker down south—still golden though, like spun honey.

— Keeps himself surprisingly well-groomed. Nothing fancy, just neatly trimmed, clean, and soft to the touch

— Once let you shave him while he laid back in the tub, eyes closed, trusting you completely. He moaned when you stroked lotion in after.

— The kind of guy who uses whatever shampoo you use just to smell like you later.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

— Insanely romantic. Makes eye contact that burns. Whispers, “You’re so beautiful,” like he’s seeing you for the first time every time.

— Kisses every inch of you before anything even begins. He wants you to feel adored, worshipped, completely cherished.

— He’s not just into the sex, he’s into making love. Wants you to know how much he needs you.

— Will cry if it gets intense enough. Real tears. He’ll hide his face in your neck and sob your name, overwhelmed with how good it feels and how deeply he loves you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

— He tries not to. He prefers saving it for when you’re the one touching him, your hands, your voice, your control.

— When he does do it, it’s always thinking about you. Whining into a pillow, hips bucking up into his hand, your name muffled between panting breaths.

— Has definitely moaned your name out loud. Once. Loud enough for Erik to knock on the door. He didn’t make eye contact for days.

— Likes to hold something of yours while he does it—your shirt, your panties, even your lip balm. It’s pathetic and adorable.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

— Praise kink is at the top. Tell him he’s your good boy, your pretty boy, and he’ll melt literally. Might finish just from that.

— Power play. He lives for the switch—being manhandled, bossed around, pinned. He might look like he’s in charge, but the moment you pull his hair and growl, “Be good for me,” he’s gone.

— Overstimulation. He’s so sensitive, you can tease and edge him until he’s crying and he loves it.

— Hair pulling. Pull his blonde strands and he’ll whimper with glossy eyes, clinging to you harder.

— Begging. He’ll beg with shaking thighs and flushed cheeks, desperate for your touch. It’s his favorite game—“How long can I take it?” The answer is always not long enough.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

— His bed is his sacred temple of worship—soft sheets, dim lights, the scent of your perfume clinging to the pillow. He loves the intimacy of it, being tangled with you in a place that feels like home.

— The shower comes in at a close second. All that steam, water running down his flushed chest, your hands sliding over him? He’s already hard just thinking about it.

— But the naughtiest one? The backseat of his car. He gets flustered just reminiscing about that time you climbed into his lap and rode him until the windows fogged.

— He’s also kinda into semi-public stuff, not where anyone would see, but somewhere risky enough to make him squirm and ask, “Wait—here?”

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

— Your voice. A soft command, a teasing whisper, a moan anddd he’s gone. You could get him hard just by saying, “Good boy.”

— Seeing you confident. Dressed up, straddling his lap, looking at him like you own him? He’ll melt. Every single time.

— Hands. Yours on his jaw, in his hair, pinning his wrists. He’s absolutely feral for it.

— Getting praised while he’s being used, he thrives off that emotional cocktail of submission and affection. It gets him trembling.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

— Anything degrading or cruel. You could call him a slut in a sweet, brat-taming kind of way, and he’ll whimper but if it’s genuinely mean? Instant mood-killer because it would kind of hurt him.

— Humiliation that feels like rejection. He needs to feel wanted, even when he's being teased or edged or absolutely ruined.

— Not into sharing. All loyal, all yours, and very possessive in his own soft way.

— No pain play that draws blood or leaves serious marks. He’s down for hickeys and love bites, but nothing harsher.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

— Loves giving. Like, adores it. Will literally drop to his knees with wide puppy eyes and whine, “Please?”

— He’s so eager when he’s between your legs—messy, moaning into it, gripping your thighs like he’ll fall apart if you pull away.

— Lowkey whimpers when he’s receiving. Very reactive. You wrap your lips around him, and he’s panting and gasping, trying not to buck.

— The eye contact kills him. If you look up while sucking him off? He’ll lose all brain cells instantly.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

— Slow and sensual is his default. He likes to savor it. But if you take the lead and pick up the pace? Rough, dominant, riding him until he’s breathless and begging? Oh, he lives for that.

— He never initiates the rough stuff himself, but the moment you take charge and use him a little? He’s gone. Whining and squirming, all red in the face, completely wrecked.

— He doesn’t have the control to stay rough so he just melts into your rhythm, no matter what speed it is.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

— Nervous at first but once you showed him how hot a desperate, hungry moment could be? He was hooked.

— Now he gets needy in the car, the laundry room, even halfway through a study session. “Just real quick? Please?”

— He’s still a little flustered about getting caught but that’s half the fun, right? Especially when he can’t stop moaning.

— Post-quickie, he clings. Even if it was rushed, he wants a soft kiss, a hand on his back, something to remind him it wasn’t just physical.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

— Eager, curious, and completely willing to try anything once especially if it’s your idea.

— As long as he trusts you? He’s putty. Tie him up? Okay. Spank him a little? Nervous giggle, then yes. Tell him to be quiet while you tease him in a semi-public place? He’ll try, but fail.

— His biggest thrill is doing something new that makes you smirk and go, “You liked that, didn’t you?”

— The more praise he gets for being brave, the more he’ll let you push his boundaries.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

— He’s quick to blow, especially when you tease him or talk dirty but give him a breather and he’s good to go again.

— After the first round he’s even more sensitive. You ride him again and he’s shaking, begging, barely holding on.

— Usually good for 2–3 rounds, depending on how much aftercare he gets in between. And if you overstimulate him during the second? You can definitely get a third while he’s whining your name.

— Doesn’t last super long but you make it so worth it, and he lives for making it up to you in every other way.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

— Before you? Maybe a fleshlight and the occasional curiosity scroll through online shops.

— After you? Oohhh boy. You’ve got him squirming under a vibrator, moaning while you milk him with a stroker, panting when you deny him with a cock ring.

— He doesn’t use them on his own often, he waits for you to bring them out and tell him, “Be still.”

— Will blush so hard when you call it his “training.” But he secretly loves it.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

— He thinks he’s teasing you when he tries to act cocky, flexing shirtless, leaning in close, whispering “you like that?”with his dumb sweet smirk.

— The reality? You’re the true menace.

— You teasing him? That’s his kryptonite. Soft grinding, whispering in his ear that he’s doing such a good job, dragging your fingers just above where he wants them… He shakes.

— If he ever gets bold enough to tease—grabbing your thighs during a kiss, maybe mouthing at your neck—he breaks the second you push him down and say, “My turn.”

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

— He’s so vocal.

— Whines. Moans. Choked-off gasps when you thrust deep or tug his hair.

— Soft little “please?” sounds when he wants more—please touch me, please keep going, please don’t stop.

— He’s especially loud when you overstimulate him. Like, squeaky and incoherent, clutching the sheets while you work him through a second or third orgasm.

— If you're riding him and lean in close? He whimpers directly into your ear. It's a full-body sound.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

— He’s tried to keep a sex journal, like a cute little notebook where he writes down things you did that made him fall apart, or ideas he wants to try.

— He’s too shy to show it to you, but you found it once, and the pages were filled with scribbles like:

“she tied my wrists today—thought I’d explode.”

“she told me I was good. almost cried.”

“idea: try collar?? what if she calls me pet?”

— He’s secretly a huge romantic, even when he’s being absolutely wrecked.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

— Built like a Greek god who drinks chocolate milk.

— Broad chest, soft golden happy trail, strong arms but a shy posture when undressing. He glances at you like, "Is this okay?"

— He’s big. You already knew that from the way he bulges in his boxers when you tease him just a little.

— Cut, flushed pink, curves slightly upward, and gets so hard it twitches when you praise him. Veins along the sides, ridiculously sensitive tip.

— Solid 6.5 inches

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

— High but sweet. He’s not pushy, not demanding. He just gets needy and blushy and curls up around you with a hopeful look.

— Morning wood? He’ll try to be subtle, but he keeps grinding into you in his sleep.

— He gets turned on so easily, just you changing clothes in front of him, or softly whispering something spicy while you’re out together.

— Will politely wait until you initiate things, but he’s practically vibrating with want most days.

— If he hasn’t gotten touched in a while, he gets adorably pouty and clingy. His hands wander, his eyes go soft, and you know he needs it.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

— He’s out. Like, snuggle-you-until-he’s-snoring levels of passed out.

— He clings to you like a sleepy koala, burying his face into your neck or chest, murmuring how much he loves you while his heartbeat slows.

— Post-orgasm Bobby is a melty, sleepy puddle of limbs. You stroke his hair, and he goes limp.

— But even in his sleep, he keeps his arms around you. There’s no escaping, he’s your cuddle trap for the night.

— Will wake up the next morning with messy hair and sleepy eyes, kiss your shoulder, and ask “Did I do okay?”

[lowpolyhagrid]

i’m so happy he survived this movie!!!

[lowpolyhagrid]

SFW Alphabet // Bobby Campbell.

pairing — bobby campbell x fem! reader

a/n — my first alphabet eveRrrRR

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

— He is so sweet. He's the sweetest boy you've ever met, and it shows every time you’re with him. He shows affection in little, constant ways. Forehead kisses when you're tired. Bringing you snacks because “you looked snack-deprived.”

— He’s super physically affectionate, always touching you, pinkies linked when you walk, a hand on your thigh in the car, absentmindedly stroking your back while watching TV.

— Gift giving is a huge love language for him. If he sees something that reminds him of you, it’s in his hands within 0.2 seconds. Hair clips, socks with frogs, keychains shaped like tiny sandwiches—he brings them all like a lil penguin giving you pebbles.

— He writes your name on everything he loves. His water bottle has a heart with your initials on it in Sharpie. His controller that you use when you come over? Same. The back of his notebook? Covered. Subtle? Never.

B = Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

— The friendship probably starts from him defending you in the most unexpected way. Someone says something annoying and Bobby just blurts out, “Hey! Don’t be a asshole!” and suddenly he's sitting next to you like you're besties.

— He’s the type to remember your favorite chips and buy it every time you hang out. He will absolutely show up at your house just to ask how your day was.

— He sends you memes at 2 a.m. that are so dumb they're funny. He is also a sucker for wholesome memes from 2020.

— He’d be loyal to you even if you lost touch for months. One message from you and he’s back in your life like you never left.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

— He was made to cuddle. He needs cuddles like oxygen.

— He likes to lay on top of you like a koala, all limbs and sleepy weight, humming softly when you run your fingers through his hair.

— He’s especially clingy in the mornings. He’ll whine if you try to leave bed early. "Five more minutes," he mumbles, then wraps around you tighter like he’s Velcro.

— Movie nights turn into snuggle piles, head on your chest, legs tangled, one hand holding yours while the other absentmindedly pets your thigh or stomach.

— Post-nightmare? He clings to you like his life depends on it, whispering little thank-yous for being there until he falls back asleep.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

— He wants the house, the dog, the lazy Sunday mornings, all of it. The idea of building a little world with you? That’s heaven to him.

— Cooking? He tries, bless him. You’ll come home to something that vaguely resembles pancakes and him proudly saying, “I used a whole egg this time!”

— He’s a cleaning chaotic neutral. He tries, but he’ll get distracted halfway and you’ll find him lying on the floor with a broom across his chest whispering “this is my final form.”

— Laundry is a mystery to him. He once washed an entire red sock with your white clothes and now refers to it as “The Pinkening Incident.”

— But he’s got the heart. He’ll bring you breakfast in bed (even if it's just toast), and he’ll fold your clothes wrong but kiss your forehead when he hands them to you. He’s trying.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

— He would be heartbroken. Even if he’s the one initiating it, you’d see the pain all over his face.

— He’d do it face to face. Eye contact. Voice shaking. Trying not to cry. He’d constantly reassure you that you’re not a bad person, that it’s not because of anything you did. He’d be big on “I still care about you, even if this isn’t right anymore.”

— And oh, he’d probably keep something of yours, quietly tucked in a drawer. Not because he can’t let go but because he’ll always have love for what you were.

— You’d probably hear from him on your birthday. He’s the kind of ex who still hopes the world treats you gently.

F = Fiancé(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

— He’s so down. He falls hard, and when he knows, he knows.

— The moment he realizes you’re his forever person, he starts planning. Not the wedding, the life.

— He doesn’t need a huge ceremony. Just you, a ring, and the promise of always waking up next to each other. He proposes clumsily, probably with a speech he forgets halfway through, dropping the ring box because his hands are shaking from excitement.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

— He’s so gentle with you. Like you’re made of stardust and warm cotton.

— He gets clumsy sometimes, knocking things over, tripping on his own feet, but when it comes to your heart? He handles it like it’s fragile and precious.

— He’s the kind of guy who cups your face in both hands before kissing you, just to look into your eyes first.

— He’s soft. He’ll cry if you cry. He feels deeply and wants to know everything you’re thinking, always trying to make you feel safe.

— He apologizes when he raises his voice even if it was just during a video game. “I wasn’t mad at you, I promise,” he’ll say, nuzzling your shoulder.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

— He lives for hugs. No greeting is complete without one. Big, strong arms wrapping around you, lifting you slightly off the ground like you weigh nothing.

— He’s the kind of guy to hug you from behind while you’re brushing your teeth or doing dishes, burying his face in your shoulder and swaying slightly.

— His hugs are warm, grounding. When you’re upset, he holds you like a shield. When you’re happy, he lifts you up and spins you.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

— It slips out way earlier than he planned. Maybe you did something small like laughed at one of his bad jokes or touched his hair in that way he loves and he just breathes it out.

— “I love you.” Cue him freezing. “Wait. Wait—I meant—*no I meant it but—*crap.”

— He panics for half a second until you say it back. Then he melts.

— From that moment on, he says it constantly. In texts. In whispers. Shouted from another room. Drawn on foggy mirrors. Scribbled in the margins of his notes.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

— He gets puppy jealous. Not possessive—but adorably pouty. If someone flirts with you, he’ll cling to you more after. Stand a little closer. Hold your hand tighter. He’ll quietly sulk on the couch, arms crossed, until you cuddle into him. Then he softens. “You still like me the most, right?”

— He trusts you entirely, but sometimes his brain goes “what if I’m not enough?” and you have to smother him in kisses until he believes you again.

— Honestly? He loves when you remind him he's yours. It turns the puppy pout into full-on golden retriever tail-wagging mode.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

— His kisses are soft, a little eager, a little messy but always full of love. He kisses your cheeks when you're sad, your forehead when you're sleepy, and your lips when he just can’t help it anymore. He loves kissing the tip of your nose, it makes him laugh every time you scrunch it up.

— He absolutely melts when you kiss his neck or his jawline. Will literally groan and go boneless like you cast a spell on him.

L = Little Ones (How are they around children?)

— He’s adorable with kids. Like full-on jungle gym level of adorable. Kids climb him like a tree and he just laughs, giving piggyback rides and letting them tie his hair up in little bows (even though it’s barely long enough). Not to mention that he would 100% be doing whatever the kids are. ESPECIALLY trampolines ;)

— He makes silly faces, plays pretend with zero hesitation, and is somehow always the monster or the horse—roles he commits to like he’s winning an Oscar.

— If a kid is shy? He gets down to their level and gently offers his hand like they’re meeting royalty. “Sir Bobby, protector of snack time, at your service.”

— You once caught him showing a five-year-old how to do a secret handshake he made up on the spot. It was twelve steps long.

— He’s in love with the idea of being a dad someday. Probably doesn’t say it out loud at first, but when he holds a baby, that soft, reverent look in his eyes says everything.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

— He’s not a morning person, he’s a morning cuddler. You’ll wake up before him and be trapped under 190 pounds of clingy affection, his arms around your waist, face smushed into your neck.

— When he does wake up, he’s soft and raspy and kiss-happy. Kisses your temple, your shoulder, your back, any part he can reach.

— He makes a mess of the kitchen trying to make breakfast for you. Pancakes are burnt, the bacon is questionably crispy, but he brings it to you proudly on a tray with juice and a flower he picked from outside.

— Sunday mornings with him are sacred: cozy clothes, lazy music, newspaper comics, and his head in your lap while you play with his hair.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

— Evenings are for unwinding. After a long day, he wants nothing more than to be tangled up with you under a blanket.

— You’ll watch movies, usually comedies or action movies, because he likes seeing you laugh. He rubs your back while you drift off, pressing lazy kisses to your hair.

— Some nights, you two have deep conversations in the dark, your fingers laced, voices barely above whispers. Other nights? He just wants to hold you and hum a random tune until you’re both asleep.

— He snores a little but it's cute. You can bury your face in his chest and feel the way his heartbeat slows with yours.

— Every night ends with him murmuring, “G’night, babe. Love you so much.” Sometimes he says it two or three times, just to make sure you heard.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

— He’s surprisingly open, but in a gentle way. He doesn’t unload everything all at once, he waits until it feels safe and the moment is right.

— The first time he tells you something serious, it’s probably during one of those quiet night talks. He stares at the ceiling, voice soft, words careful.

— He tells you about the weird things that hurt him as a kid, about his biggest fears (like disappointing people), and about the dreams he doesn’t tell anyone else.

— He doesn’t like seeming weak, so he’ll try to joke sometimes when he’s nervous but one look from you and he folds, eyes getting glossy.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

— He’s not quick to anger at all. He’s got the patience of a saint especially with the people he loves.

— If something frustrates him, he gets more puppy sulk than rage monster.

— He does get overwhelmed sometimes, especially when he feels like he’s failing, but he’ll step outside, run a hand through his hair, and breathe before ever snapping.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

— He remembers everything. Even stuff you don’t remember telling him. You mention once that your favorite candle scent is jasmine? Boom. Jasmine-scented candle shows up next week.

— You told him when you were five you wanted to be an astronaut? He brings you a plushie in a tiny space suit “for your childhood dreams.”

— He knows the date of your half-birthday. He remembers your go-to boba order. He’s memorized which days you’re most likely to get overwhelmed and sends you comfort memes on those days.

— His notes app is full of “Things She Likes” and it’s just… pages of tiny details. Songs you hum. The color you wear when you feel confident. That one tea that helps when you get headaches.

— He may seem ditzy, but when it comes to you? He’s tuned in 100%.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

— It’s the first time you looked at him like he was your entire world. He remembers it in vivid detail. Maybe you were sitting on a park bench, and you turned to him mid-conversation with this look of awe.

— He swears time stopped. The sun caught your hair just right, and you smiled at him like he was the best decision you ever made.

— That moment lives rent-free in his mind. He thinks about it when he’s falling asleep, when he’s missing you, when he’s doubting himself.

— Nothing will ever top that memory except maybe when you say “I do.”

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

— He’s incredibly protective but never overbearing. It's not about control, it’s about care.

— He protects with warmth. He’ll hold your hand when you're anxious, walk you home at night even if it’s out of his way, and always, always double-checks that you’re okay even when you say you are.

— As for being protected? He lives for it. If you gently tug him behind you or speak up for him in a tense moment? Boy melts. Fully gooey-eyed.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

— He tries so hard. Like it might not always be Pinterest-perfect, but the love is bursting at the seams.

— For anniversaries, he hand-makes you something. A playlist. A scrapbook. A list of all the reasons he loves you written in glitter pen on notebook paper.

— Dates range from elaborate picnics under the stars to surprise pizza nights with handmade menus.

— Gifts? Thoughtful as hell. He once bought you socks with little suns on them because “they remind me of how warm you make me feel.”

— He’ll fold your laundry while humming, cook you badly scrambled eggs with a proud grin, and always carries your bags without being asked.

— He’s all effort, no ego. It’s messy sometimes, but he just wants you to know he cares every single day.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

— He leaves socks everywhere. Like... everywhere.

— He eats way too fast. Like, blink and his plate’s clean. It’s barbaric and kind of terrifying. That being said, he also forgets to check what has peanuts and what doesn’t.

— He hums constantly. Even in quiet moments. Even at 3AM. You’ll be spooning and suddenly hear “Sweet Caroline” hummed into your shoulder.

— He’s bad at texting back. Not because he doesn’t care, he just forgets. He’ll open your message, smile at it like a dope, and then put his phone down without answering.

— When he's nervous, he bites his nails and pulls at his sleeves like a kid. He doesn’t realize he's doing it until you gently stop him.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

— He pretends he’s chill about his looks, but he totally flexes in front of the mirror when he thinks you’re not looking.

— He’s lowkey proud of his arms. And his jawline. And his hair (especially after you ruffle it and call him handsome).

— He doesn’t care about being flawless, but he does care if you think he’s hot.

— “Do I look okay?” he’ll ask before a date, cheeks pink, hands tugging at his shirt. He always looks good but your compliments make him stand taller.

— His guilty pleasure? Skincare. He lets you do face masks on him and he loves it. Bonus if you massage in the moisturizer.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

— Without you? A puppy in the rain.

— You’re truly his best friend, his safe space, his therapist when he loses Mortal Combat.

— He doesn’t cling in a toxic way, but the thought of losing you is his worst fear. He’d miss the way your voice sounds when you’re sleepy, the smell of your shampoo, the way you always stroke his hair before falling asleep.

— If he ever lost you, he’d still talk about you like you were the best thing that ever happened to him.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them)

— He has a playlist called “Songs That Remind Me of Her” and he updates it weekly.

— He also has a habit of doodling your name in notebook margins. Sometimes surrounded by hearts. Sometimes in bubble letters.

— When he’s sad, he wears your hoodie. Even if it’s tiny on him. He’ll stretch it over his broad frame and bury his nose in the collar like it’s holy.

— He keeps a Polaroid of you two in his wallet. He looks at it when he’s nervous. Once he pulled it out before a presentation just to feel brave.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

— He hates cruelty. People who mock others for being vulnerable? Instant ick.

— Like, if someone thinks they’re too good for cartoons or cry-laughing at dumb jokes? Bye.

— He’s also sensitive to yelling. If someone raises their voice just to intimidate, it rattles him.

— He doesn’t vibe with coldness, he needs warmth, laughter, touch. Someone emotionally distant would make him feel unwanted.

— Also: he physically can’t handle scary movies. Once screamed and threw popcorn in the air during a jump scare.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

— He’s a blanket thief. You start the night tucked in and wake up shivering while he’s rolled up like a human burrito.

— Sleeps with one arm over your waist at all times. If you move away, he instinctively pulls you back in like a sleepy magnet.

— He talks in his sleep. Half the time it’s your name.

— He has a habit of kissing the top of your head while still asleep.

— You are his favorite pillow. Full stop. Chest, thighs, belly, wherever you are, he’ll be on top of it.

— And his favorite position? Koala-mode. Arms and legs wrapped around you like you’re his emotional support tree branch.

[lowpolyhagrid]

erik campbell nsfw alphabet

warnings: 18+ mdni!!! f!reader

my requests are OPEN!!!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

he falls asleep every time without fail… but he’ll wake back up in like 30 minutes

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

he thinks his hair is his best feature. and he loves your back and chest.. and waist (more on this later)

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

he definitely prefers finishing on you, rather than in you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

oh this freak loves when his nipple piercings are messed with

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he knows what he’s doing. very much so!

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

he loves hitting it from the back (esp. in front of a mirror HELLOOOO) and missionary

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

it all depends on the mood. but we know how erik is with his one liners

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

hes lowkey very methodical when it comes to trimming his pubes. kinda cute

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

it depends on how close you two are. but there’s occasionally times where he’s emotional and he just needs you.. and that’s when he’s the most intimate

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he’d be so down to send you videos of him jerking off.. if ur into that sort of thing. but he doesn’t really need to, because he has your fine ass 😛😛😛

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

hair pulling, choking, marking, very very soft bdsm.. but he gets a little freaky sometimes

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

ANY FUCKINNNN WHEREEEE!!!! but he still thinks about the time that you had sex in the tattoo parlor after it closed.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

teasing, he’s lowkey into getting rejected.. and when the hem of someone shirt lifts up and reveals someone’s waist..

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

he won’t do really freaky weird shit… like shit… and shit

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

oh he’s an eater… LIVES FOR THAT SHIT!! but will not turn down head… ever. who wouldn’t give him head tbh???

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

obviously a case by case basis. but he’s very good at reading the mood and knowing what to do, but he tends to be a bit fast

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

any time any where. he likes having sex in public a lot. in a car, in a bathroom, what have you

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

like i’ve said before, he’s game for pretty much anything!!

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

erik can go for like 2 on a good day, but he lasts decently long

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he would love to use a vibrator on you! but they wouldn’t be his first priority. he likes getting in there with his hands, definitely.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

THIS LITTLE SLUT! is such a tease, and an asshole. think a lot of, “you want it so bad, don’t you?”

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

a couple of grunts and groans, maybe some moans… maybe even a whine! but he isn’t very loud.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

i feel like he would have steve-o’s “your name” tattoo on his ass. i’m gonna be pushing the damn jackassfan!erik agenda until i die

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

we all remember the scene

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

if y’all are in a committed relationship, your fucking like 3-4x a week.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

his head hits the pillow and he’s done!

[lowpolyhagrid]

18+ mdni, fem!reader | like & rb if you enjoyed!

thinking about sex with erik campbell. he loves giving and receiving, but my god does he love a good blowjob, especially with that prince albert piercing of his, though what really pushed him over the edge towards getting it was you. he’d been debating it since before you’d even gotten together, but a few months in he brings it up, under the guise of a joke but also to feel out your thoughts on the matter. your sex life was already amazing, fantastic even but this would take things to a whole new level. he also knew, that the healing process would be a hell of a journey.

but the look on your face when he brings it up solidifies his plans, he’s getting that piercing, even if it means 12 weeks of hell without getting to fuck you.

the first time you see it, once it’s all nice and healed up, your tongue just about falls out of your head. you and erik had been making out in his room for the past half hour, forgetting about the movie you’d put on, when you feel his length press up into your core. “‘s healed y’know,” is all he says and your hand is down his jeans. he hisses at the touch, sensitive seeing as he’s not been touched like this in months.

you start pushing his shirt up his torso with your free hand, and erik gets the hint and tugs it off, tossing in somewhere in his room. he sighs in contentment at the kisses you press to his neck, making your way down his chest, stopping and paying extra attention to his pierced nipples, all while jerking your hand up and down his shaft.

eventually you make your way in between his legs, tugging his pants and boxers down with you, letting his cock free. the metal of the piercing catches in the light, drawing your eyes to it, your mouth falls open in a moan at just the sight. before he can say anything, you’re taking him into your mouth, your moans sending vibrations through his cock.

he’s got a hand on the back of your head, gripping onto your hair and thrusting up into your mouth, fucking your face while you focus on both taking deep breaths through your nose and hollowing your cheeks around him.

next thing you know, he’s pulling your head up by your hair and saying, “the first time i cum with this thing ‘s gonna be inside your pussy,” and he’s pulling you up his body, taking your pants off somewhere along the way, and settling you down on his lap, pressing a hot kiss to your mouth as he tugs your panties to the side and starts running the head of his cock through your folds, smirking at your moans caused by the cool metal catching in your heat.

“c’mon baby, you can take it, can’t you?” he murmurs into you ear, voice dripping with sarcasm as he pushed the head of his cock into you, and then he’s choking on a gasp when you swiftly sit yourself down fully, impaling yourself on his cock. “can you?” you whisper in his ear with a smirk on your face, taking his earlobe into your mouth and tugging on the hoop hanging from it.

[lowpolyhagrid]

giggles and blushes

[lowpolyhagrid]

Props to final destination bloodlines for having the blonde himbo rep we all deserve

[lowpolyhagrid]

[lowpolyhagrid]

???

WHY DID THEY REMOVE THESE LINES MANNN LMFAOO