#Claire is just a little bit weird

[finch1pinch]

started rewatching trollhunters out of a need of familiarity when everything in my life is new and bad and hard (college.) and now ive redesigned Claire to make her more of a alternative theater kid with the anger issues that they only hint at in the show

ive given her more of a personality than the #Feminist Only Female character in the group ur welcome lol

[citrine-elephant]

stressed the fuck out nonverbal dilf leon: what is your opinion?

[mariocki]

New Scotland Yard: The Come Back (1.2, LWT, 1972)

"This wasn't a sudden impulse. It was deliberate and calculated. He had to break in to get at the old man, and then - well, you saw what he did to him. I don't know if he's a psycho or not, but I do know he's a sadist and I know what treatment I'd hand out."

"Yeah, I can guess."

"It's the only way."

"You've a right to your opinion, just don't try and convert me."

"I wouldn't dream of it, I know what you think."

"I think it's just as well your job ends when we catch him."

[lipglossanon]

Pound Puppy

Leon S. Kennedy x puppy!reader

A little more savory tier commission from anon 💜

word count: 2340

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, hybrid au, hybrid reader, bestie Claire making an appearance, praise kink, oral (m receiving), shower sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, piss kink, marking

proofread

Leon walks by the same alley on his way home. Unfortunately for him, the parking for his neighborhood is a complete crap shoot, so he always ends up parking at the end of the street to walk to his house. It’s a pain in his ass, but until work cuts down on his hours, he’s stuck with it.

He doesn’t see you every time he passes the alleyway, but, now and again, he’ll catch sight of you hunkered down, tinkering with something in your hands. You're a hybrid, practically a pup from what he can tell. You don’t seem to have a collar or an owner. Dirt smudges your face and hands, and your clothes look worn and ratty. Leon feels a bit bad leaving you out there, but you always run off when you notice him at the lip of the alley. 

He mentions all of this offhandedly on the phone one afternoon with Claire, who throws a complete fit. She takes the time to drive over that weekend and spends hours coaxing you out of that dingy and dirty alleyway. Your hesitant, which Leon can understand; he and Claire are total strangers. 

Claire brings you into his house, and to his surprise, with the intention to keep you at his place. 

“She’d probably be more comfortable with you,” he hisses to the red-haired woman once you’re out of earshot. “And besides, you’re the one who talked her out of that place.”

“Yes, I did, Leon,” Claire rolls her eyes at him. “But this neighborhood is familiar to her. I’m not going to force her to leave the only place she can kind of call home. Suck it up.”

Leon throws his hands up and leaves Claire to help get you settled after giving you a bath and clean clothes. Before leaving, Leon’s supposed friend gives him a quick rundown of the information she was able to glean. 

She ticks off each point by throwing up a finger. “She’s in her 20s. She’s afraid of water. She has no family. And her last owner dumped her as soon as she quit being a cutesy puppy.”

He frowns at that last bit, but Claire pushes on giving him your name and how long you’ve been a stray. 

“So, just be nice and keep a routine until she adapts. Call me if you need me!”

And with that, Leon watches her leave out of his front door and climb onto her Harley Davidson. After slipping on her helmet, Claire gives him a little wave while he sees her off from his front porch. He tosses up a lazy two-finger salute, and she revs her bike, then peels off down his street. 

Sighing, he walks back into his house. Looking up, Leon sees you hovering in the living room, biting your nails nervously. You fidget in place, toes curled into the rug while you tug on an old shirt of his, the hem fraying. 

Leon gestures to the couch. “You’re welcome to watch the TV. Uh, the cable should be set up.”

You cock your head, soft ears flopping with the movement. “I can sit on the couch? At my old place, I wasn’t allowed on the furniture.”

Leon’s lips twitch, but he keeps his face neutral. “Yeah, I don’t mind what you do as long as you don’t make a mess of the place. Just be courteous and clean up after yourself.”

Nodding, your tail wags slowly. “Okay, thanks, Mister.”

“Leon,” he scratches a hand through his hair, a sigh leaving him. “Just call me Leon.”

You nod, a small smile crossing your face. “Alright. Thanks, Leon.”

He keeps you at arms length, but you’re slowly starting to grow on him. Being greeted at the door when he gets home is nice. He’s forgotten what it’s like to have someone around—another presence taking up space in his home. It’s not stifling like he thought it would be; you’re sweet, and Leon’s realizing he needs sweetness in his life.

From that weird afternoon of you moving in all the way until now, Leon has lived with you for a couple of months. He’s noticed you’re more cuddly and have even taken to sneaking into his room to sleep with him. You’ve wormed your way into his life, and he’s all the happier for it.

He bathes you every night, helping you stay calm and cool while he washes your ears and tail. At first, it was all very clinical and quick, but now he lets you relax and take your time. It’s helped tremendously with your fear of the water. However, it’s also led to a dilemma. 

There’s no denying; you’re a very pretty pup. Leon tries his best, but he can’t help but sneak glances at your naked tits and cute pussy. He’s able to keep it under wraps, wearing jeans to help hide any stiffness he may develop. His plan works for a while—until he ends up staying late one night. 

You greet him at the door like usual, tail wagging and ears perked up. He kicks off his shoes and ruffles your ears. 

“Bath time?” You smile, tugging on his sleeve.

Leon glances at his watch. “Shit. Yeah, sorry work ran long, sweetheart. We’ll get you your bath so you can go to bed.”

You clasp your hands around his bicep, nuzzling into his arm while he guides you over to the bathroom. Once inside, you stay glued to him, watching with wide eyes as the tub fills up with water. As soon as it’s ready, Leon turns to let you undress and climb over the lip. He takes off his suit jacket and hangs it over the towel hook on the door.

He moves back over to you naked and wet in the tub. Too little, too late. Leon remembers that he’s just wearing slacks and not his usual jeans. Cock thickening, he quickly kneels on the mat next to the tub, keeping his waist out of your line of sight. You smile at him, titling your head so he can help scrub your ears.

Leon listens as you tell him about your day, asking questions about his—your voice soothing and soft. You dip your head back to rinse off the soap, and as you raise back up, he watches the suds trickle down your neck across the swell of your breasts. Shaking your head, you sling water from your hair and ears, giggling when Leon calls out a lighthearted hey.

Reaching in, he splashes you, making you giggle harder, splashing him back. You smack the water harder than intended, and a deluge covers Leon, soaking his shirt and pants. 

“Oh no! I’m sorry,” you raise up onto your knees, peering over the side of the tub to see how much of a mess you made. 

“It’s okay,” Leon blinks water from his eyes, then freezes in place when he feels a warm hand pet across his bulge. 

Wiping a hand across his face, his blue eyes warily take in your expression, but what he finds is nothing but interest. You rub his cock through his slacks, and he throbs, making you giggle—tail wagging happily. 

“I just thought my nose was getting mixed up,” you murmur, eyes dropping down to his bulge. “You always smelled turned on.”

He groans when you squeeze him gently. 

Biting your lip, you whisper, “It always got me really wet.”

“What a naughty little puppy,” he murmurs, reaching forward to grope your wet tits. Whining, you arch your back, pressing your breasts more firmly into his palms. 

He massages the soft peaks, fingers digging into your breasts and squeezing. Dragging his fingertips around your areola, he pinches your nipples until you whimper, thighs rubbing together underneath the water. Letting go of your tits, he leans forward to pull the stopper on the bath. 

Pouting, you gaze at him as he stands up. “Is it time to get out?”

“No, we’re gonna take a shower together, sweetheart,” he murmurs, flicking on the water before undressing and stepping into the tub. 

The cool spray hits his back, making him shiver. His hard cock bobs in front of your face, and you lean forward to lick across the tip. Groaning, Leon’s hips buck forward, cockhead grazing your cheek and smearing precum across your skin. 

“Pup—“

His sentence cuts off with a moan when you open your mouth and begin lathing your tongue across his dick. 

“Taste so good,” you pant, tail a blur behind you, ears relaxed against your head. “Can I lick you whenever I want?”

“Fuck,” Leon rubs your soft ears. “Yeah, pup, you can lick my cock as much as you want.”

Humming, you let your tongue lap at his tip before nosing your way down to his balls. He tips his head back, water wetting his hair as your hot little mouth sucks and kisses his squishy sac. You smear your own spit across your face, tongue bathing his balls in your drool. 

“Come on, sweetheart, suck my dick,” Leon coos, grabbing the back of your head to guide your mouth back up to his leaking cock.

“Mmm hmm,” you sigh, eyes half lidded, while Leon feeds his cock past your lips. 

“God, such a good girl,” he groans, and you whine around his thick length. “Yeah, you are. Such a good puppy for me.”

He rocks his hips against your face, forcing his tip to kiss the back of your throat. Spit bubbles and spills from around your lips as he keeps his cock in your mouth. Every time you swallow around him, his dick twitches and throbs on your tongue, precum leaking down your throat. 

Leon grunts and presses closer, pushing his dick a little deeper; it makes you gag hard, and he pulls out—thick, slimy spit hanging from his cock in strings. His abs and hips flex, arousal burning hot in his blood. 

“Look at you, so gorgeous,” he praises, and your eyes flutter. “My good puppy.”

Moaning, you sink your mouth back down on his cock, choking when you press too far but not stopping in the slightest. He pulls his dick from your swollen lips, then bends forward to slip his hands underneath your armpits to pull you up on your feet.

“Let me feel this sexy pussy,” he rumbles, lips brushing across your fuzzy ear. 

Whining, you cant your hips toward him. “Please, Leon. Play with my pussy.”

Both of you let out sounds of pleasure when his fingers part your slick folds, digits pressing teasingly at your hole.

“Such a wet puppy pussy,” he coos, dropping a kiss at the corner of your lips. “Does she need a cock stuffing her cute hole?”

“Please, oh please,” you mewl, tail bumping against the tiled wall. “Wanna feel full.”

He hikes one of your legs around his hip before gripping his cock and notching it at your clenching heat. Pressing the tip inside, he uses both hands to grab the fat of your ass to pull you onto his cock as he sinks deeper into your cunt. 

“So tight, fuck,” he groans, pelvis flush against your own. “God, gonna make me nut so fast, sweetheart.”

“Leon,” you moan loudly, nails clawing up his back and making his cock pulse inside your snug pussy. 

Leon blames his recent celibacy for his quick trigger response to having your soft wet pussy clamping down on his dick. You don’t seem to be much better off, pussy walls rippling and squeezing around his cock while you moan and pant against his chest. He moves a hand between your bodies, fingers circling your swollen clit. 

“So slippery and soft, baby,” he growls. “Cum for me so I can cream your sweet little pussy.”

“I’m so close,” you drool, hips humping your cunt down onto his cock. “G’nna cum, Leon. You’re gonna make me cum.”

“Good girl. I want you to cum. Want you to squeeze my cock with that fat puppy pussy,” he groans, fingers strumming across your clit faster and faster. 

You sink your sharp teeth into his shoulder and scream, body twitching and shuddering as your orgasm hits you hard and fast. Leon can’t stop himself, fucking you through your aftershocks to chase his own climax. He buries his cock to the hilt in your hole, spilling hot and thick inside your cunt. You moan, pussy milking him for every drop of cum in his balls. 

After you both catch your breath, Leon slides his cock from your tight hole with a sigh. He then helps ease your leg back onto the ground. Rubbing your arms, he leans forward and kisses your forehead, making you preen. Letting another few seconds pass in comfortable silence, Leon drops his arms to his side. 

“Gotta piss,” he mutters, moving to get out. 

Your fingers latch onto his arm, big eyes pleading up at him. 

“Mark me up,” you nuzzle against his neck. “Mark your territory.”

Leons half-hard cock twitches in interest but stays soft. “Baby…”

“Please,” you bat your eyes, and he’s quickly nodding in agreement. 

There’s no sense denying it to himself— he thinks it’s hot as hell you want him to piss on you. Too bad his refractory period isn’t immediate. He grips his cock, and you kneel down in front of him. A few drops of urine leak from his tip. You whine, and Leon relaxes into it, hot piss steadily streaming onto your neck and tits. His eyes watch it coat your skin, a possessive satisfaction settling in his chest. 

Shifting his feet, he uses his grip to aim his cock at your face, piss hitting your lips and chin. You drop your mouth open with a moan. 

“Fuck, such a good fucking puppy for me,” he grunts, directing the stream of urine onto your tongue. 

You keep your mouth open, swallowing Leon’s piss until it slows down to a trickle before tapering off completely. Humming, you look up at his with glassy eyes. 

“Thank you, Leon.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

[lovebugism]

“I’m not the easiest person to talk to, or be around. It’s… hard for other people to love me. I get that.” with Eddie? Maybe he and reader are sorta rivals or frenemies?

here's an unsolicited part 2 to this fic! hope you like it :D — eddie knows you like him now, so you find it extremely hard to be normal around him accordingly (enemies to lovers, grumpy!reader, more succession references, 2.3k)

You walk into the Hideout behind Steve and Robin, hands trembling and sticky with sweat. 

The humid air of the overcrowded bar and the overwhelming stench of cheap beer do little to quell your swirling stomach. The too-loud music and bustling bodies are hardly more than a harsh reminder of the last time you were here — pouring your heart out to Eddie Munson in the form of anxious word vomit, only to be hopelessly turned away. 

Not quite rejected but hardly embraced, which is somehow more embarrassing. 

“You alright?” Steve asks once you’ve ducked into the dim hallway of the backstage area. 

The music and muddled chatter are mostly stifled now, but the walls continue to pulse with life — riddled with chipping paint and dubious stains that only add to your unease. You try to swallow down your distant ennui, hoping it isn’t as obvious as it feels. (It is). Your loud feelings are too big for your body, and it’s got your face softly screwed together like you’ve tasted something sour.

The concerned glint in Steve’s eyes makes you cower. “Yeah. I’m peachy,” you deadpan with an unconvincing shrug. “Why?”

“‘Cause you look like we’re leading you to slaughter,” Robin scoffs.

“You’re asking me to be nice to Eddie Munson for two hours,” you grouse. “So, excuse me if I’m not the most chipper.”

The brunette girl flashes you a look over her shoulder, ocean eyes smudged with dark liner. “Scared you’ll spontaneously combust?” she jokes with her hand wrapped around the rusted knob of the faux greenroom. It feels more like her chipped maroon nails have grabbed your heart and twisted.

“Terrified,” you monotone just before she swings the door open.

The tiny, windowless room smells like sweat and grocery store cologne. It’s crowded with vanity mirrors, plastic folding chairs, and suitcases — hardly big enough for a heavy metal band. 

The three of you run into Gareth and Jeff on your way in. The two look nothing like themselves as you shuffle past them in the doorway, sharing fleeting glances and awkward greetings as you go. A couple of D&D nerds in leather and eyeliner feels almost uncanny.

It’s the same with Eddie, sort of. Curls drenched with sweat, eyes smudged black, tanktop damp around the neckline — a total rockstar. You’re not sure if it’s the raucous outfit stirring your stomach or the body wearing it.

“Oh, shit— You assholes actually showed!” Eddie beams at the sight of you. “And you dressed for the occasion, too.”

The boy in all black and silver stands before the three of you, still dressed in corporate attire after working late shifts. Steve and Robin look at least mostly normal without the Family Video vests and branded name tags. You, however, look like one of those businesswear catalogs brought to life — glaringly out of place. 

“You sayin’ The Gap isn’t proper Hideout attire, Munson?” Steve quips, holding his arm out for a friendly (only slightly awkward) side embrace.

Eddie slaps the back of the boy’s collared shirt with a ringed hand. “Claire’s is more metal than The Gap,” he teases, then turns to hug Robin. “At least Buckley looks halfway normal.”

“And by normal, you mean hot, right?” she jokes, voice deep and gritty and effortlessly sultry.

He scoffs. “Obviously.”

Eddie has no trouble greeting Steve and Robin but loses most of his cool when he turns to you.

The not-so confession at Benny’s Burgers seemed to change more things between you than the heart-felt one you shared here not too long ago. He feels a bit weird, knowing now that you meant what you said — that you actuallyliked him, and that it wasn’t just some cruel joke. 

He feels like he’s got cool points to win with you now. And it makes him achingly aware of when he inevitably loses them.

“Look at you,” Eddie grins, tossing his chin back to shake wild curls from his face. A few chestnut strands cling stubbornly to his sticky forehead. The milky white tendons of his neck shine with sweat, too. “You look like an actual human person.”

“Wow. Thanks, Eds,” you monotone, unsure of whether or not to take his words as a compliment. You cross your arms over the chest of your fitted turtle neck and joke, “I’d say that same, but… you look like a poodle that just washed up on shore.”

Robin mumbles your name through gritted teeth, flashing you a look and poking you on the shoulder. She scolds you like a parent, as though to say be nice without actually saying the words out loud.

“What?” you shrug.

Eddie only chuckles — a low and honeyed sound he presses to your ear when he brings you suddenly in for a hug. His lean body meets yours, soft and strong and slightly clammy. His skin smells like deep cologne, minty aftershave, and very faintly of boy. You tense when his hands cradle your back.

“Oh,” you mumble in surprise, floundering at the affection as you attempt to hold him back. “Okay.”

“How’s the nine-to-five?” Eddie asks after he parts from you, sounding almost like he cares. “Boring the absolute shit outta you?”

You shrug with an air of nonchalance and hope you don’t look as flustered by his attention as you feel. “Oh, you know… Burying the bodies, counting the cash.”

“Gotta picture of me in your little cubicle?”

“Tons,” you answer. “It’s basically an Eddie Munson shrine.”

His smile widens to show all his teeth. His chocolate eyes glitter with mischief, too, like he knows what he’s doing to you. 

Eddie gives you a break from his suffocating stare and looks to Steve and Robin standing on his other side. You feel like you can finally breathe. “I told Greg at the bar to give my friends free beer tonight— just show him your ID or whatever,” the boy tells them.

“Oh, my god— I could kiss you right now,” Robin mumbles.

Eddie’s plush pink lips curl into a half-smirk when he turns to you again. “So try not to run up your tab tonight, alright, sweetheart?” he quips and pats you on the arm. It’s easier to joke that he hadn’t mentioned you at all when your name was first from his lips. Which is totally a joke you would’ve made.

You flash Steve and Robin a wide-eyed look of annoyance, jaw clenched to contain all the insults you instinctively want to spew. “He got us free beers,” the former cautions with a sympathetic shrug. “Don’t ruin it.”

You roll your eyes and hear them leave behind you — not even trying to pretend like they didn’t swing byfor the beers. Eddie’s stupid grin widens when you stay. “You heard the man. Means you gotta be nice to be all night.”

“Right,” you scoff like it’s funny. Steve The Hair Harrington doesn’t exactly scream figure of authority to you. Robin Buckley, maybe. But definitely not Steve.

“Think you can do it without spontaneously combusting?” he quips.

You hate that he knows you so well. “Not particularly,” you deadpan.

Eddie tilts his wild head to the side and sends you a pretty, tight-lipped smile. “Well, you’re doing a great job already.”

His praise is sarcastic. You know this already, so you’re not sure why it has your stomach doing backflips. “Thanks…” you mumble, inherently shrinking inside yourself as you attempt to make small talk. “How, uh— How was the show?”

“Fine,” the boy hums, shrugging his pale shoulders. “Same set from last time. Same crowd of drunks.”

“Sorry I missed it.”

“Eh. Don’t be. You’ve actually got important shit going on— Don’t worry about me.”

“Your shit’s important, too,” you argue without thinking, perhaps more shocked by your sincerity than the boy ahead of you. You follow quickly and much more harshly, “I guess.”

Eddie smiles wordlessly. You start to squirm in place. He watches you grow suddenly uncomfortable in your own skin as you seem to look everywhere but back at him. The pink expression ebbs into a more concerned one. “You okay?”

You hate the question more the second time. 

“Fine,” you monotone, hardly convincing.

He squints. “Then why aren’t you looking at me?”

“I am looking at you,” you argue just to argue, giving him a measly glance before turning away a moment later.

“No, seriously,” Eddie chuckles, reaching out to touch you. “What’s going on?”

His ringed hand caresses the outside of your elbow. You jerk back on instinct, more aggressive than you mean to be. 

“Nothing!��� you huff, looking so far away from him that he can only see your profile. You grumble like a storm cloud, “You just— You make me go all weird. As you know. And fully intend.”

“That’s what this is all about?” Eddie chuckles. “You got a little crush on me?”

He reaches out for you again, this time digging his fingers into the junction of your neck. You swat him away with a harsh hand. You hate the way his touch makes your skin buzz. 

“You’re such a dick,” you groan before spinning on your heel. Your slacks swish around your ankles as you walk the very short distance to the door. Eddie’s footsteps sound much heavier in comparison as he rushes behind you. 

“Hey, hey, hey! C’mon. I’m just kidding,” he assures, still laughing as he slides his body between you and the exit. He meets your glare with a crooked smile. “It’s okay. I got a crush on you back— you know that.”

You hate how easily the words spill from his mouth, how cool he is about all of it compared to the time bomb you’ve become — tick tick ticking away as your anxiety builds. You figure this stupid crush (or whatever he wants to call it) must mean more to you than it does to him. So again, you turn away.

Eddie knocks his worn sneaker against the toe of your pleather boot. “Just because you don’t believe me doesn’t make it any less true, you know?” he tells you, quiet and suddenly serious as he tilts his cheek to his shoulder. “Doesn’t make me like you any less, either.”

His confession makes you feel funny. It makes you giddy and fills you with dread all at once. “It’s just… It’s weird,” is all you can think to say, after several long moments of silence.

“Why?”

“‘Cause I— I’m not— I don’t know,” you groan, bringing your hands to your face to hide behind your palms. “God, I did not intend to talk about this today.”

“Well, too late. We’re talking about it.”

Eddie takes a step away from the door, moving impossibly closer to you. He ducks his chin to meet your sheepish gaze, dark eyes sparkling with visible concern. 

You step back from him on instinct and talk wildly with your hands. “No! Tonight was supposed to be about you— about you’re fucking show— not about me!”

Brows raised and hidden behind his sweat-drenched bangs, he monotones. “Say it.”

A stubborn sigh puffs out your lips. “I just… I know I’m not the easiest person to talk to. Or to be around. I know that,” you confess. “I know it’s hard for people to like me, but… you do, and I really don’t fucking get it, okay? It just feels like you’re playing a big, dumb prank on me.”

Eddie stays silent for a moment, chocolate gaze unwavering as he ponders your words. 

“Wait, so…” the boy trails off, eyes squeezed shut in concentration. “You’re mean to me, but I like you anyway, and because I can see through all the— faux bitchiness or whatever— You have a hard time… being around me?”

Your eyes flit to the ceiling for a moment. You look back at him and nod. “Yeah, that’s… That’s pretty much the gist of it, yeah.”

Eddie beams before he can help it, filling the dingy room with golden sunshine. “Well, you know how we get past that, right?” he wonders and scrunches the bridge of his nose.

You get the feeling he’s teasing you still, but you entertain him anyway. “What?”

“Us being boyfriend-girlfriend—”

“Eddie,” you groan with your head tilted back, only partly pretending to be annoyed. You don’t step back from him when he inches closer to you this time, though. You don’t jerk away from his touch when his hands caress your forearms, either. 

“I know you wanna…” he lilts, pulling you closer with ringed fingers wrapped gently around your wrists. Your shoes scuff the carpet as you stumble into his chest. “It’s why I make you go all funny, right?”

You squint up at him, with hate in your eyes and your heart in your throat. “You’re so annoying,” you deadpan.

“Okay, how about this? We can just go on one date, alright?” Eddie offers, smoothing his guitar-string calloused fingers up your shoulders. “Nothin’ fancy, I promise. Just bottomless breadsticks at Enzo’s at seven. And you, bottom-less at my place at eight.”

Your knotted stomach does a backflip at his words, but you keep glaring at him anyway. “And who says you don’t know how to flirt?” you squint.

Another chuckle spills from his plush, pink lips. His tongue darts out to wet them a second later — mouth desperate to be kissed. “‘Kay. Fine. How about we just makeout in my van after closing? And I try not to be a total idiot and ruin it like last time?”

He’s much more serious now. You can see it in his very expressive button eyes. He’s borderline pleading now, for a second chance he never needed to ask for. 

You cave, far quicker and with a lot less fight than he expected. “Fine,” you shrug with an unenthusiastic huff.

Eddie smiles so big, it’s like you’ve just told him you loved him or something — all his teeth on display — so wide and full of adoration it almost hurts. 

[ghouljams]

The Church of the Broken God (chapter 2)

Words: 5k Tags: Eventual John Price x reader, public masturbation, brainwashing, doublespeak, indoctrination, f!reader, passively suicidal ideation, self destructive habits, horrible bosses, depressed!reader, Cult Leader!Price Summary: Your life has been on a downward spiral for months. It's hard to find a real reason to keep going when everything you do seems to backfire. That is, until you get a flier for a meditation seminar that promises to fix all your problems.

<- prev chapter | next chapter ->

These women are… super nice. You don’t know why it puts you on edge. They’re not doing anything wrong. They buy each other drinks, compliment each other, they’re attentive listeners and laugh at every joke you make. You offer to buy a round, the same as they’ve been doing for you, and you’re not met with a rush to stop you. They look pleased, shoot off thanks and smile the same as they did for the other women. You feel like you’re doing the right thing, you don’t know why it makes your stomach squirm. Maybe you’re just not used to people doing nice things for you.

“You ok?” Nina asks, leaning over the table to frown at you, “you’ve gone all quiet.”

“Yeah, uh, I guess I’m just not used to crowds anymore.” You attempt to cover.

“It’s the compliments isn’t it?” Cassie jumps in, Nina waves her off.

“No, no!” You hold up your hands to defend yourself, “Those are really nice, you’re all really nice! I��m just not-”

“Used to it?” Nina finishes with a wince, “I wasn’t either, it was super awkward the first time I came out for drinks, you remember?”

“Oh my God so awkward, you were like a robot.” Cassie laughs, it takes some of the weight off your shoulders.

“But you get what you put out into the world, y’know? You give kindness, you get it in return, that’s what John says.” Nina nods, she crosses her arms and leans back against the booth. She feels serious, her jaw set and her brows drawn. “I was in a really dark place when I first took John’s class, it felt like I was living a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. My friends were drifting away, my fiance was cheating on me-” She shakes her head, you wince at how closely your situation matches, “-I was so bitter and it made me mean, I get why no one wanted to be around me.”

“Nina-” Cassie sighs, her sympathy obvious. Nina waves her off again, sitting forward to grab her drink.

“Whatever, it’s in the past now.” Nina mutters, your heart aches for her. You set a hand on her shoulder, giving it a friendly squeeze. She smiles at you. It feels… good. You can see yourself in her, your pain and suffering. It’s a weight that she carries the same as you. “Kyle really helped me a lot, Christ I owe him a whole bakery.”

“Nina!” Cassie squeals, shoving at her. Nina’s shoulder bumps against you, warm. Camaraderie. Did you forget what it was like to have friends? When was the last time you saw your own? The last time they laughed with each other, with you? “You’re so bad,” Cassie laughs.

“What? He’s hot!” Nina laughs back. You feel a little left out. Your stomach clenches.

“Sorry, who’s Kyle?” You ask, “Your boyfriend?”

“She wishes,” Cassie snorts into her drink. Nina shoves at her.

“He’s a counselor, life coach sort of guy.” Nina explains, “He has a class at the rec center on Wednesdays-” Claire’s phone pings “-honestly it’s worth going just to see him, God I wanna make a sandwich out of that man.”

“I’m gonna hit the bathroom,” Claire announces. You glance at the other women at the table. None of them move. Weird, you would have thought women this close would be biting at the bit to accompany her. You always used the buddy system with your friends. Especially at bars. In fact the other women at the table seem to ignore her, only acknowledging her enough to move out of the way. 

You guess there’s a black sheep in every friend group. You know the feeling. You tap your fingers against the table watching her retreat to the bathroom. You don’t have a good feeling about letting her go alone. Nina’s insistence on “putting kindness into the world” or whatever is running through your head and you just… you can’t let her be on the outskirts of the friend group alone. You’re not even really part of it, but everyone is being so nice- you won’t be the reason this girl is left out.

“Oh um, I’m gonna ask the bartender something,” You tell the girl on your left, shit what was her name “can you-?

“Sure!” She pushes herself out of the booth to let you out, quickly cozying up next to Nina when you vacate the spot. You glance at the table over your shoulder as you make your way towards the bar, then make a hard turn towards the bathrooms. No one’s paying attention to you, that’s good.

You push the bathroom door open, trying to be quiet in case Claire’s shy. You’ll just, uh, wash your hands and pretend you’re fixing your outfit when she comes out. Nothing weird about that. Totally normal thing that people do, and not like you’re waiting for her to come out of the stall so you can- What? Commiserate about being left out? Ugh, you don’t know why you even-

There’s a distinct, wet, noise coming from one of the stalls. A ‘shlick, shlick’ sound that you recognize all too easily. You catch the bathroom door to keep it from slamming and cover your mouth. Fingers sliding against a wet slit, a soft huff of a stifled moan, and the quiet low rumble of a man’s voice. Deep and throaty, she’s on the phone with someone, or listening to something. You can’t tell which, what you can tell is that Claire --the girl who had seemed almost too shy to ask you to join them--  is masturbating in a public bathroom. And you’re standing there listening. You’re not sure which is worse. It squirms like bile in your stomach, you’re intruding, you’re being a creep. Your own cunt clenches. 

A quiet whimper leaves Claire’s mouth and you rush back out of the bathroom. You catch the door a second time to make sure she doesn’t hear it slam, then you press yourself against it. You fan your face, try to get your breathing right, fix your face. Fix your damn face! You press your hands to your cheeks, and squeeze your eyes shut. Oh my God.

You make your way back to the table, doing your best to avoid looking at anyone. The girl who moved for you initially lights up when she sees you, hopping out of the booth and ushering you in. You feel a little awkward sliding into the middle with Nina, but you don’t want to cause a fuss with so many people watching you. Good lord do they all have to look at you? 

“Did the bartender have what you were looking for?” Nina asks. Your eyes dart to her.

“The- oh, uh, no. I was wondering if he had a phone charger.” You cover quickly.

“I have a power bank you can use,” Cassie offers. You open your mouth to turn her down before remembering that would blow your story out of the water.

“Sure.” You relent, forcing a smile onto your face. 

“No problem,” Cassie chirps, digging through her purse to tug a power bank and two different chargers free, “it feels good to do nice things for people, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” you agree absentmindedly, fussing with the charger and plugging your phone in. An alert for a non-branded charger pops up and you quickly dismiss it. 

The conversation moves on to other topics, but you hardly pay attention. Your eyes are glued to the bathroom door, waiting for Claire. When she does finally exit she looks the same as when she left. No ruddy cheeks, no guilty glances around, no rumpled shirt or anything that would give away what she was doing in the bathroom. You try not to narrow your eyes as they flick over her body. You don’t want to look like you’re checking her out, you just want proof that you heard what you heard.

“Welcome back,” Someone says, and Claire beams at them.

“Who’s buying the next round?” Claire asks.

You drift in and out of conversation. Someone offers to split an uber with you, apparently they live in the same building. You wonder how you never noticed them before, but they hug you before you get off the elevator.

“It was nice to connect with you,” She hums, “it feels nice being part of something, doesn’t it?”

You don’t get a chance to answer before the doors close.

-

Wednesday, you think, flipping through your phone while you brush your teeth. Nina said her life coach guy was on wednesdays right? Curious, you check the rec center’s website.

“For the Whole You!” The site banner reads in friendly font. You scroll down to their calendar. There’s a lot of pictures of people smiling, a pie chart of something, testimonials, blah blah blah. The calendar is easy to read at least. And packed. It looks like meditations happen every three days, you spot John’s name easily. Price, huh, that’s a cool last name. Wednesdays… 

You click on the only Kyle you see, and a page pops up with- Christ- one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen. Kyle Garrick, life coach with a masters in psychology. That doesn’t sound too bad. You thought life coaches were just con men in ripped jeans, but this guy seems like he might actually know what he’s talking about. John’s name pops up again, a short anecdote from Kyle about serving with him. Huh. That’s kind of interesting you guess. 

You think back on the meditation lesson you’d attended, the power that John seemed to carry in simple actions, the musculature, the way he’d pinned you in place with a single tilt of his head. Military fits you guess. You click on his class and tap your fingers against the side of your phone as you think. The class has a helpful registration counter at the side, letting you know there’s one spot left for the wednesday evening class. It’s not like you have anything else going on, and it’ll fill your usual therapy slot. It’s twenty for a single class. That’s not too bad, less than therapy co-pays. You make an account on the site, begrudgingly signing up for their email list, and send twenty dollars into the void. 

You get an email from Kyle about an hour later as you’re scrolling through instagram, avoiding looking at the time. It feels pretty standard, welcoming a new person, attaching a survey on what you want to work on. You type out a few quick words promising you’ll get to it in the morning. Your email pings a few minutes later.

“You must be an insomniac, just tackle it now.” You narrow your eyes at the screen, “Might help you sleep to accomplish a task before bed.” 

What sort of weird logic- fine. You squint at the questionnaire, typing out your answers as best you can. Honest enough to get some advice but not honest enough to get sent to the hospital has always been your MO with these things. This one is sort of weird, but you’re exhausted, too sleep-addled to pay proper attention.

Are you lonely? Do you ever feel out of place? Do you have dreams where you act as someone else? Have you heard of the law of attraction? When someone says they feel “connected” to you, how does that make you feel?

Do you ever feel talked over?

Do you ever feel pushed out of conversations? Do you find it hard to accept yourself?

Are you on the path you want to be?

You rub your eyes, typing as best you can. 

Where do you see improvement for yourself?

Describe yourself in one negative word.

You type, and type. It feels never ending. Worse than the insomnia that keeps you up. It’s nearly two hours later when you finish. You send it off to Kyle without another thought, and snuggle down into your blankets. You’re so tired.

Your phone buzzes. You roll over to check it. Another email from Kyle.

“Thanks, this looks great! :)” You sigh. At least your work checks out. That’s good, you’re sure it’s just an auto-response, but you appreciate it nonetheless. Another message pops up. Your email alerting you to a new response in the chain.

“How long have you had trouble sleeping? I know a few good remedies.” You sigh, the screen hurts your eyes. You don’t know what inspires you to reply, why you don’t simply roll over to sleep. The attention is nice, you suppose.

“A few months. What’s your miracle cure?” You stare at your phone, let the blue light laser its way over your eyes. The screen dims, you tap it to keep your phone awake. To keep you awake. 

“Have you heard of sleep restriction therapy?”

-

Your morning has never felt more miserable. You barely slept and you had to upgrade your usual tea to an instant coffee. You’re nursing the brown sludge that you managed to scrape together from the break room’s limited stores when your least favorite manager swings by your cubicle.

“Did you finish the reports I asked for?” Kevin asks. You do your best to keep your face neutral as you sip your scalding caffeine.

“I told you they’d take me until the end of the day.” You remind him, “It’s nine in the morning.” Nevermind that he’s swinging into the office a full hour late, but you know for a fact that you promised the updated numbers by five today. You have the email to prove it.

“Oh,” Kevin makes a face, his teeth grit as he exhales through them, “I was really hoping you’d work on them last night.”

“Outside of work hours.” You confirm, trying not to sound too much like you’re questioning his less than sound judgement.

Kevin sighs your name with a shake of his head, “You know you’re not going to get very far in this company if you don’t care about your work.”

You take a deep breath through your nose, inhaling as much coffee vapor as you can stomach. It does nothing to calm you down. You can’t be expected to deal with this level of bullshit on practically zero sleep. Maybe you should look into that sleep therapy Kyle sent you, you really can’t keep living like this.

“I care about my work Kevin,” You tell him with as much of a smile as you can manage, “I’ll have the reports to you as soon as possible.”

“Atta-girl,” Kevin praises, snapping his finger to hit you with a nauseating pair of finger guns before moseying back to his office.

If you thought reporting him to HR would do anything you might consider it. As it stands you’ve already tried that twice and gotten nowhere. It just made him more dedicated to making your work life hell. Crazy how they always talk about retaliation in the “Hostile work environment” training videos, but no one seems to give a shit about it when it’s happening to you.

You spend the next two hours swearing at the mess of spreadsheets that Kevin emailed you yesterday. If he’d bothered to clean any of the sheets up it would’ve made your life a hell of a lot easier. You don’t even want to think about how many cells could’ve been saved if he knew how to use just one function. You can feel the start of a migraine pressing against the back of your eyes by the time your stomach is starting to growl at you about lunch.

You glance away from your monitor to rub your eyes, try to get some of the blurry tilt out of them. Your bag sits on the desk next to you, deliriously empty. Fuck.

Fuck that’s right, you’d decided to skip packing a lunch this morning because you were running late for your train. 

With a heavy sigh you check your lunch options just as your phone pings.

It’s an unknown number, weird.

You swipe the message open to delete it and pause.

“Hey, it’s Nina! I saw you work near me and was wondering if you’d want to grab lunch?”

You blink at your phone screen. How the hell would she know where you work?

Your sluggish brain clicks away as your stomach churns nervously. You guess Cassie works at the rec center, she’d see applications that come through, membership stuff. Maybe Cassie gave it to her? Nina was the one who suggested you sign up for Kyle’s class, maybe Cassie wanted to, you don’t know, spread the good news of your signing up?

Your head throbs.

You’re not really operating at 100% right now, you’re not sure you want to interact with someone who seems to have their life together.

“My treat?” Nina double texts you.

Alright, you can pretend to be a human being for free lunch.

You’re almost relieved to see Nina has a little darkness under her eyes, purple sleeplessness that she’s tried to hide with concealer. It makes you feel a little better for your own sluggish brain to think that she might be tired too. 

“I know this is probably totally weird,” She laughs when you greet her with a raised hand, “You’re probably like, oh my god this bitch is a stalker, how does she know where I work?”

“I figure Cassie gave it to you, because I signed up for your favorite class.” You yawn, as she nods.

“That’s smart,” She says nothing about your second yawn, “wouldn’t have been my first thought.” You hum, before deciding a verbal answer is friendlier.

“Yeah, I mean it seemed sort of weird, but you don’t strike me as the stalker type.”

“Tell my ex-fiance that,” Nina says with an eye roll, “ask to share your location one time- of course I was right to be a stalker but…”

You snort and she positively beams at you. You have to squint to avoid blinding yourself in the sunshine of it. She links her arm with yours and tugs you along to walk with her. You do your best not to tug your arm out from her hold, not used to being touched so casually.

“So what are you in the mood for?” She asks, leading you down the street.

“I’m not picky,” You tell her, trying to be easy. You could really go for something warm right now, you think you might be coming down with something.

“You look exhausted,” Nina coos sympathetically, “Maybe you should go home instead. Rest.”

You rub your eye with the heel of your hand and shake your head. “I’ve got a lot to get done today.”

“Surely your boss won’t mind you taking some sick time?” She sounds so sincere, you feel bad when you bark out a laugh. Nina frowns, “One of those, huh?” You sigh, letting yourself feel the heaviness in your limbs like a sick indulgence.

“Just a few more hours,” You assure her, “Then I can go home and sleep.”

“Let’s get something good in you before then.” Nina nods to herself.

Nina orders for you and sets a steaming bowl of rice and saucy vegetables in front of you. It smells heavenly, like ginger and coconut, and there’s little crispy bits of something sprinkled on top. She has a salad, and shakes it vigorously in front of her while you mix up the yellow curry and rice. Even just the thought of the food’s warm steam settling in your stomach energizes you. You glance at Nina and she’s got her head bowed. 

You-

Pause. 

A little awkward in the face of what must be prayer. You’re not quite sure if you’re supposed to start without her, or if that’s rude. You don’t know the protocol for this. After a moment she raises her head and blinks at you.

“Oh my gosh, were you waiting for me?” She asks, scandalized. You nod, unsure what to do with your hands. You settle on spooning a heap of curry and rice into your mouth. You figure that’s fine since she’s done. “That’s really sweet of you,” She smiles. She doesn’t give you any indication if this was the right thing to do. You stare at your bowl and chew.

“I was going to invite you to hang at the rec center after work,” Nina starts, waving her fork with a sigh, “but I don’t want you to push yourself if you’re exhausted.”

“Do people hang out at the rec center?” You question, trying to remember if you saw other people there when you went yesterday. It had seemed fairly empty, almost abandoned, but maybe you’d been too focused on getting to your class to notice anything else. The class was full, so there must have been other people hanging around.

“Of course,” Nina gives you a look like you’re crazy for asking, “like all the time. It’s a nice spot just to chill and see people. John doesn’t mind us hanging around.”

John. That was the meditation instructor’s name, wasn’t it? It’s pretty common, you doubt it’s the same guy. Why would an instructor mind if people hung around anyway? Cassie had pointed you towards a lounge area last night so there must be more of those to steal for chatting.

“The meditation instructor?” You ask dumbly. It’s not the question you want to ask, but it’s the only thing that sticks on your tongue. Nina hums her assent.

“He runs the place.” She explains, “he’s super nice, really cares about bringing people together, building community, connections.”

She says the word like it means something: connections. It sticks in your sluggish mind, but doesn’t raise any red flags.

“Sounds like a good guy.” You shove another bite into your mouth.

“He is.” Nina tells you. Tells you, like she’s demanding you try and disagree with her.

You blink. There’s a coldness to her face, there and gone. She smiles, and tucks into her salad.

Maybe she’s got a thing for him. You make a note not to say anything bad about him to her.

He seemed nice, good looking, she could do worse.

You suppress a shiver at the memory of his hands on you, pushing you forward and pulling you back like it was the most natural thing in the world. His touch is the first you’ve had in a long time that didn’t make you cringe and want to squirm away. Actually his class was the most relaxed you’ve been in, well, ever and the short nap you’d taken was probably the best sleep you’d had in months. You’d almost be willing to give up on going straight home after work if you knew John was going to be at the rec center, maybe you could slip in another meditation workshop?

You want to ask Nina about it, but you also don’t want to give her the wrong idea. If she does have a crush on the guy, it’s probably not great to ask too many questions about John if you want to stay in her good graces. 

“Right,” You try, “yeah his class was great, and I’m, uh, looking forward to Kyle’s class too.” Not your best subject change, but Kyle’s name makes Nina light up.

“Oh yeah, you’re going to love it!” She assures you.

“Yeah, I- yeah,” The attitude shift has you a little stunned, your molasses thoughts stick to your tongue as you try to collect them, “He sent me this huge questionnaire last night, it was really, um, in depth?” You try to remember one of the questions but wading through your mind is difficult with so little sleep.

“Well,” Nina stabs her fork into her salad, you flinch at each punctuating crunch of lettuce, “he has to get to know you, silly, so he can help you.” You stir your curry in jerking motions, for something to occupy your hands. “You can’t pull yourself out of a hole,” Nina tells you with a blank smile, “someone has to throw you a rope.”

-

You were almost happy to get back to work. Kevin chewed you out about taking too long a lunch, and you were probably going to get an ulcer from all the tylenol you took, but you were happy getting away from Nina. She’d chatted your ear off about Kyle and somehow didn’t answer a single one of your questions about him. Not that you had any chance to get a word in edgewise. You couldn’t handle the perky tone in her voice by the time your lunch ended. At least you didn’t have to pay for your own food.

You manage to get Kevin his spreadsheets before five. You still leave the office late and thankless.

You doze on the train home, your head tugging at your neck each time the doors opened, and you barely make it into your house before you’re collapsing on the couch. 

Yeah, you couldn’t have made it to the rec center like this.

You startle awake when your ass starts vibrating. You blearily fumble for your phone  and swipe at the screen, turning off your “call Baby” alarm. You should really delete that.

You toss your phone on the coffee table with a sigh and turn onto your back to stare at the ceiling fan. Ten. You slept for a good couple hours. You’re starving.

And you’re not going to be able to sleep tonight because of this nap.

Great.

-

You consider canceling your registration for Kyle’s class as you sit on the train heading to the rec center. You could just go home. You sort of want to go home, but Cassie had called you this afternoon to confirm your registration and she’d sounded so sad when you’d asked about canceling that you just couldn’t. Also you were pretty sure it was too late to get your money back. So here you were.

At least the rec center is busier than Monday. Cassie had told you the Wednesday meditation was full, maybe this is their busy day. You see people coming in and out, and look for a familiar face in the crowd. You’re hoping to see one of the women you met Monday, but instead your eyes lock on slightly less familiar icy blues.

John smiles at you across the street, and glances both ways before jogging across. You paint on a smile for him, and try not to look like you were avoiding going inside.

“Waiting for someone?” He asks in lieu of greeting. You keep your eyes on his, the creases at the corners of his eyes deepen a little as you stare. 

“No, just-” You search for a normal time killing activity, “-people watching.” John hums and steps to stand beside you. The space he takes up feels enormous, like a black hole sucking up your attention, despite the way he crosses his arms over his chest. You peek at the bulge of his bicep against the dark shirt he’s wearing, the stiff fabric stretching to accommodate more man that it was made for. You would’ve expected him in the same comfortable yoga clothes as he was wearing Monday, but this feels more formal. He’s wearing slacks. And oxfords. 

“It’s intimidating,” He tells you out of the blue after a moment of silence. Your eyes dart to his face, and your confusion must be all too clear because he chuckles. The deep throaty noise of it makes your stomach clench. “Letting people help,” He fills in, “choosing peace.”

You make a face.

And John touches you.

His hand slides, big and warm, over your back. His fingers spread wide and he leans into your space like he might pull you closer, except you suddenly feel rooted in place. Fear shoots through you, anxiety punctuating your breaths unnecessarily. You fix your face quickly, tamp down the surge of adrenaline that makes you want to run. John isn’t doing anything but looking at you, his smile the same placid thing even as his brows twitch in concern.

“Sorry,” You find yourself apologizing, trying to unlock some of the stiffness in your shoulders, “I’m not used to people touching me.”

“It’s a natural response,” John doesn’t move his hand, his thumb rubs against your back and you feel the unnatural drag of your shirt against your skin like sandpaper, “You’re trying to protect yourself. Silly little thing that people have gotten into their heads these days, that everyone’s out to get them.” He tips his head, and you’re hit with a wave of claustrophobia, the open air seems to sink into you until you’re a single focus point in a tiny void. “Doesn’t that feel awful?” 

His words feel like they’re sinking into you, echoing every thought that bounces through your tensed musculature. It feels awful, you feel like a cornered gazelle, like a lame wildebeest, like a fly trapped in a spider’s net. 

You feel almost pleading the way you must be looking at him. Humiliated to react like this to something so simple.

He smiles brighter and his hand leaves you, you suck in a breath and feel your lungs ache, “That’s why it’s so important to pick apart that distrust, humans are social creatures, made to be connected to each other. All from the same warm pool, yeah?”

You nod. John nods his head towards the rec center.

“Let me walk you in, you’re here for Gaz’s class right?”

“No, um, Kyle’s.” You correct.

“Ah,” John laughs, his hand reappears on the small of your back, pushing you forward, “old habit, that’s what we called him in the SAS. You’ll like him, not as touchy as me.” He pulls his hand away with a small apologetic smile, “force of habit.”

“It’s fine,” it’s not, “Everyone around here is so friendly, I just have to get used to it.”

John hums, “Already untangling the web, good girl.”

Your stomach clenches pleasantly. You can see why Nina likes him.

[that-sarcastic-writer]

Coffee and Other Things

DI!SingleDad!Leon X F!Teacher!Reader

Summary: you and Leon have a lil lunch date, but he just can't keep his hands to himself

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, p in v, brief fingering, choking, hair pulling, riding, car sex, semi public sex, soft!dom leon, praising, Leon has a mouth on him, the s stands for slut, parent teacher dynamic, age gap, foul language

WC: 4.1k lol I can't write short things

A/N: lol omg I wrote 2 things in a month?? Woah witchcraft. Yeah yall thought I abandoned this series. Well kind of. I was very unmotivated to write for it but idk I was like fuck it why not, this has been sitting my drafts since September soo. I will warn yall that this is not going to be a constant thing. I'll update when I have inspiration to write for it, so it'll probably be sporadic, but I hope yall enjoy it the same.

If you'd like to keep up with this series (or any of my works) follow @midnightreadinglibrary for updates since I no longer have a tag list and turn on notifications, don't worry, I'll only reblog my written works there

Universe masterlist

God was it hot out here. It was inhumane that's what this was. If there was one thing you hated in this world was having to stand outside in eighty degrees in the summer or thirty degrees in the winter. Right now it was the former, or close to it, anyway. May sure seemed to think so. But the sun burning on your back this early in the morning was not helping. You were praying to the Gods to save you now because this cardigan was going to be the death of you.

You counted the tiny heads standing in line— as best as seven year-olds could anyway. You were missing one chocolate brown-haired head. Weird. Leon hadn't mentioned not bringing Isabella to school today. 

You looked at your wristwatch, three minutes before you had to take your kids inside. You sighed softly, folding your arms over your chest as you kept an eye on your kids, but you also kept some attention ahead, in case you maybe saw that pair that in a matter of weeks had become such an important part of your life. Even if Izzy didn't realize it yet.

But you stood corrected. Your lips curved up at the sight of a tiny Isabella, pigtails and all dragging her leather jacket wearing dad across the playground. He had her tiny lilac backpack hanging from one shoulder and her Rapunzel lunch box hung from his free hand. This was the first time you had actually seen Leon drop her off. Claire— who you had learned was a close friend of Leon's for many years now— would normally drop her off, or Izzy would come strolling into your classroom after drop off so you wouldn't see him either way. And now that you were seeing this for the first time, you couldn't hold in your laughter. 

"I told you I was going to be late!" The little girl fussed as she dragged him. He closed his eyes, sighing heavily as he wondered what the hell he was raising. "Aunt Claire is never late."

"Yeah, well your daddy got—" shot at last night by the mercenaries of a deranged scientist. Leon bit his tongue and he shook his head at himself. "I got home late. Sorry, I'll try not to be late next time." 

Izzy turned her head to look at him, lips pulled up into a tiny smile now. "It's okay daddy. You'll do better next time." 

She stopped at the end of the line, and he stopped with her. His eyes instantly landed on you at the very front. His eyebrows irked up and his lips curled up, he didn't think he'd actually see you this morning. Fuck, how was it that you looked prettier every time he saw you? He took his eyes away from you to look at Izzy. He crouched down to her height, shrugging her backpack off his shoulder to hand it to her. She happily strapped it over her shoulders and took her lunch box as well. 

"Eat some okay? I know I'm not the best cook but a sandwich and some fruit can't be too bad right?" She nodded eagerly, just happy that her dad had made her lunch. She was about to run off to her friends but he called her back. "Isabella. C'mere for a sec. Listen, I'm picking you up after school, okay? So think where you want to go eat and we'll get ice cream after, yeah?" 

The way his little girl's eyes lit up at his words was better than anything else in this world. Nothing could ever top that. She threw herself around his neck and he couldn't help but smile a bit. 

"Thank you daddy!" 

"Yeah. Love you bee." He rubbed her back softly, pressing a kiss to the side of her hair before he motioned his hand at her. "Okay, go on. Go say hi to your friends." 

Izzy happily ran off, saying a 'Love you!' over her shoulder before she squeezed her way into the line where her girl friends were also standing.  

You couldn't quite hear their exchange, all you could hear was Izzy saying I love you to her dad, but that alone was enough to melt your heart. Your eyes found Leon's and you couldn't help but smile. You watched as he stood to his full height, and the look in his eyes all but called you over to him. You chewed on the inside of your cheek softly as you nudged your friend, Emily— the other second grade teacher standing on the line marked next to you. 

"Hey, can you watch my kids for a sec?" You bit your lip and gave her a sheepish look. She looked at you with a confused frown but then her lips parted in realization when she saw Leon. 

"For that? I'd watch your kids the rest of the day. Go girl." She said quietly and nudged you away. 

You laughed softly at her and made your way over to Leon as casually as you possibly could. It was normal for teachers to talk to their parents for casual conversation, right?

"Hey Miss. How's it going?" He was really good at pretending to be cordial, you give him that. He stood at least a foot away from you, his hands shoved into his pockets, but his eyes were anything but innocent as they looked you over. 

"Hi Leon. I see that you brought Izzy today?" You said, arms folded over your chest as you tried to not be so obvious. 

"Yeah. I wasn't home last night when she went to bed, so I figured I'd make it up by dropping her off." He shrugged, but his nose twitched a bit as he remembered the mess of this morning. "Though, I have a feeling neither of us are used to it. She kept saying I was doing this and that wrong, that I was driving too fast, that her left ponytail was too tight. That her right was too high. I'm wondering where she gets all that attitude from." 

You couldn't help but laugh at him. So much so you had to cover your mouth with the back of your hand. He clearly didn't see the humor in it and he narrowed his eyes at you. 

"I'm sorry, but I can't help it. She totally gets it from you." You snorted as you remembered the first day you met. You had never met someone so grumpy and with so much attitude. It was part of his charm, you guessed. 

"I'm offended." He gave you a pointed look and shook his head. You shrugged at him, hiding your smile behind your lips. But he had a tiny smile of his own. He looked around him for a second before he leaned down to speak to you. Nothing too scandalous, but his cologne was definitely intoxicating you now. "Listen, I have some free time today so, you wanna get lunch? I'm guessing you have lunch time." 

"I…" You laughed softly, a soft heat creeping up your cheeks at his proposal. "Yeah I have a lunch. I got forty-five minutes at eleven thirty. Pick me up?" 

"Yeah. Yeah, of course. It's a date then." His lips curled up a bit, he hadn't actually ever said that out loud. It sounded nice. A date. With you. 

"It's a date." You said quietly, repeating it to yourself, almost as if you had to say it to believe it. 

Sure, you've had two successful dates with Leon, and you didn't even have to get started on how good your chemistry was. But you were still cautious. Dating hadn't exactly been kind to you and Leon just seemed way too good to be true. You had honestly just expected him to ghost you at some point. 

But you were so glad you were wrong. 

~~~~

"Leon—" You scolded him, but the words leaving your mouth didn't match your hands. You gripped him closer, your fingers clinging to his button down shirt. He only hummed in question. "Leon, c'mon stop that. I only have like twenty minutes." 

You didn't actually want him to stop. Not really. His lips on your neck, licking and lightly sucking at every spot that made you shudder. You sat on his lap, straddling him on the front seat of his Jeep Wrangler. You weren't quite sure how you ended here. One minute you had been sitting with Leon, drinking coffee and eating some cream cheese bagels, talking about your job, his job, his kid, a little bit of everything, laughing and joking for what felt like hours. And then you were here, at an empty parking lot, in broad daylight. 

This was such a bad idea. But the way his lips kissed you and the way his growing hard on brushed against your clothed clit was way too good to say no. 

"Twenty? Fine. I can make you come in five." He breathed into your ear, his hands running up your bare thighs, scrunching up your dress to your hips.

His words alone made you want to come then and there. You breathed out a shaky sigh, eyes closed as you tried to argue that this was a horrible, horrible idea. You were more sensible than this. His hands found your ass, and he squeezed, making you squirm on his lap. Which only made him harder against his jeans. 

"C'mon. Promise I won't go so hard this time." He brushed his lips under your jaw, slightly lifting his hips to make the front of his jeans brush you some more. "I need to feel you come on my cock again, please." 

Fuck, the way he sounded begging, begging to fuck you. You didn't need much convincing, but that? That made you pool into your panties. 

"No hickeys, and no bruises," You muttered, remembering you had to wear scarfs in this heat for days to cover the marks his fingers left. Leon smirked a bit at this. "I'm serious. I've never had to cover up bruises before you." 

Leon dug his teeth into his bottom lip, leaning back to look at you as one of his hands sneaked under your dress and he kept his eyes on you as he rubbed his thumb over your clit through your panties. 

"I won't bruise you this time." His lips curled up into a satisfied grin when your lips fell open into a silent moan. "I gotta say though, your neck looked so pretty with my fingers all over it." 

He sat up, his free hand pulling you to him by the back of your neck and his lips crashed against yours harshly. He happily took in the moan that left your throat as he thumbed at your clit. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, groaning softly when your fingers threaded his hair. 

He held you against his mouth, his thumb on your clit for what felt like years, you honestly worried you had run out of time. But in reality only a minute had passed. He let go of your head to blindly reach for the console. He groaned softly as he touched around for a second, but ultimately had to pull away to look. He found his wallet, he dug through it with urgency before he tossed it on the passenger's seat.

Your eyes landed on the golden wrapper and you frowned at him. 

"You do remember you came inside last time, right?" You asked with genuine confusion and he could only laugh in response. 

He pressed a hard kiss to your lips before he replied. "I remember. Trust me, I remember. But unless you wanted to sit with my come inside you for the rest of the day. Figured this was best." 

Your face heated up with embarrassment and you let out a soft laugh, Leon could only watch you with amusement. 

"Were you hoping to get laid then?" You laughed softly and he only shrugged in response, his eyes never leaving you as he unbuckled his belt. 

"I was hopeful. I was kinda hoping you missed me enough." He chuckled, now watching as you reached your hand to unbutton his shirt. He sucked in a sharp breath when you leaned down to press your lips to his neck. 

"I did." A playful smile fell on your lips as your lips trailed further down. He let out a pleasured sigh that quickly turned into a pained grunt when your lips touched a particular spot below his collarbone. 

“Hmph… Careful baby.” 

You pulled back with furrowed eyebrows as you tugged his shirt aside just enough to see a purple forming on his pale skin, but it looked like a burn almost, a circle with an angry marking.

“What.. What is that? Are you okay?” 

He found the concern in your voice endearing. 

“I got shot last night during an assignment. But I'm here, aren't I? I'm fine.” He tried to say it as casually as possible, he looked at you with unwavering calmness, you were anything but. 

“You got what?” You almost shouted, it definitely caught him off guard. You swallowed hard as you placed your hands on his chest, almost as if you needed to feel that he was okay. 

“It caught my vest. But it still leaves a bruise. It hurts for a day or two. But I'm perfectly fine.” He knew you weren't convinced, your furrowed eyebrows and tight lips said as much. He sighed, “Can we not.. Do this right now? Please?” 

“Yeah.. Okay.” You still weren't entirely convinced but God were you having a hard time being worried when you could feel him against you. You could yell at him later. 

He gave you a small smile before he kissed you again, not wanting to waste any more time. He was quick to lift you up enough to pull down your panties and tossed them on the passenger's seat. And fuck, the look he gave you when he pulled away was enough to make you soak his jeans, you were sure if it, anyway. His eyes never left you as he spat on his fingers. He needed to watch your face when his fingers touched your clit. And what a sight that was. 

“Oh, you sweet girl,” He taunted, rubbing slow circles on your clit. He parted his lips to match the silent moan you let out, but the look on your pretty face was priceless. “Already so wet for me, hm?” 

All you could do was nod, heated and already breathless with adrenaline. But you couldn't hold back the cry that left your mouth when he slipped his fingers into your wet hole. Your head fell back slightly as you reached to grip his shoulder, just any part of him really. He watched your face carefully, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he buried his fingers to the knuckle, curling them against your most sensitive spot. His fingers worked you for what felt like hours, but in reality it was merely a minute or two. Though by then, the sound of his fingers in and out of your cunt was all he could hear. Other than the sounds leaving your mouth. But you could only take so much of this torture. 

“Please Leon—” God, you sounded pathetic, the way you were so desperately grinding against his hand was equally pathetic. “Need you.” 

Leon was a simple man. If his girl wanted to be fucked he had to comply. There wasn't anything else to it. 

His fingers left you empty in an instant, and you couldn't help but whine at the loss, but you knew you'd get something better soon enough. 

“Do me a favor, darling,” he grabbed your hand and placed it right where his cock was straining against his jeans. You swallowed hard, your chest still rising as you looked at him with big eyes. “Help me here, hm?” 

It took you a second to process his words, maybe you were already cock drunk just on the thought of it. But your shaky hands eventually unzipped his jeans and pulled him out of the confines of his boxers. The sigh Leon let out was almost primal as he messed around with his smart watch. You couldn't quite understand what he was doing but you didn't exactly have the mental capacity to think when his cock was right there. 

“Go on baby, I'm almost done here. You can ride me, can't you?” His words were almost mocking as he watched you out of the corner of his eye. Your mouth was slightly open as you ran your tongue over your dry lips. 

“I.. I—Yes.” You responded quietly as you slipped the condom on him. Leon sucked in a sharp breath but said nothing as he watched you lean forward, and slowly sank down on his cock. 

Leon leaned back, his lips falling open as you sat on his cock. He swallowed hard, and it took him the very little control he still had left not to force you on his cock. But alas he let you take your time. His hands were tight on your hips as if to encourage you. And it took you a second to adjust but you ultimately lifted yourself before slamming back down on his cock, over and over until you were bouncing on him like that was all you were meant to do in this world. 

“Shit Leon, you feel so—” you were sure you sounded absolutely pathetic, your words broken in between moans as you leaned back until your back touched the steering wheel. 

Christ, Leon sure was loving this sight. 

He adjusted himself under you so that he could ever so slightly lift his hips to meet with yours. He particularly loved this sight because God, this dress, it was so perfect on you. The V cut was low enough for him to see your neck and collarbone perfectly, but of course your entire chest was covered. Unless he pulled the front down.. 

“Fuck, feels so good, I know baby.” He breathed out, watching you through hooded eyes as his hands moved up to your chest, and he pulled the material down enough so that your bra was exposed. He groaned, and it was almost animalistic. “Take this off. Take it off, please.” 

Please. 

God. 

Leon definitely felt the way you squeezed around his cock right then. You kept your grip on his shoulder with one hand as you somehow reached behind you with the other and unclasped your bra with the other. Leon fumbled around with the sleeves of your dress until those were off your shoulders. And the second your bra was out of the way, he grabbed a handful of both of your breasts with both of his hands. And he fucking moaned. 

“Goddamn, you look so pretty like this.” His eyes traveled from where his hands were grabbing at your bare chest, to your exposed neck with your head thrown back as you so desperately fucked yourself on him. He didn't even care about the mess you were most likely leaving on his jeans. “Look at you, using my cock like you fucking own it. Fuck.” 

Even in your delirium, this brought a smile to your face and you were sitting up to look at him. You brought a hand to his face, the sound of his grunts and moans were in your ear and the completely pussy drunk look on his face made you want to come right then and there. 

“Say that again. Please, say it again.” Your words were slurred, breathless as you so desperately chased your release. Leon bit his lip softly, sitting up to meet you halfway. With a tight grip on your ass, he lifted his hips to thrust into you with intensity as if to prove a point. 

“Yes darling, you can fuck yourself on this cock all you want ‘cause it's all yours.” His lips were on your jaw as his free hand held you by the back of your neck. 

You dug your nails into his chest, surely to leave marks as you closed your eyes. Your heart was pounding, skin burning hot to the touch as he held you, each drag of his cock brushing deliciously against that perfect spot. You were so close. 

“Choke me, please.” You pleaded barely above a whisper, nothing short of a whine. And the moan Leon let out at your request was by far the most erotic thing you will ever hear. 

He ran his tongue over his lips as he brought his hand to your neck and wrapped his fingers around your throat. He didn't squeeze hard enough to bruise, but it definitely was tight enough for you to see white. The lack of blood flow mixed with the tight feeling in your stomach. You could only take so much. 

“Oh my— Fuck. I—” Words were no longer something you knew by then, you were grinding your hips so desperately, and the way you were squeezing his cock, he had quickly learned meant you were so close. 

“Mhmm just like that pretty, come for me, I know you can do that.” His thumb found your swollen clit as he held your throat and he watched with big eyes as your mouth fell open. Leon let out a soft moan that mimicked the one leaving your throat as you squeezed him tightly. Too bad he couldn't actually feel you come on his cock this time. “That's a good fucking girl. Yeah, atta girl.” 

He gripped the side of his seat as he drilled into you, lifting you on and off his cock as he fucked you through you release, and chased his own, of course. You pressed your forehead against his, soft whines leaving your lips at the overstimulation of his jeans rubbing against your clit. But you could hear his soft moans in your ears, his soft praises as he gripped your throat with soft fingers, until he gave you a particularly deep thrust and he held you down on him. The string of curses leaving his mouth as he came were anything but coherent, but fuck did it make you wet all over again to hear him unravel like this, just for you. 

“Shit. You see what you do to me?” He breathed out a laugh, his hand now cradling the back of your hair as he left kisses on your jaw. 

You closed your eyes tight, breathing in deeply, taking on the smell of his expensive cologne mixed with his own scent, and Christ, it was so intoxicating. All of him was intoxicating. You hummed softly and threw your arms around his neck, leaning close to him, just craving to feel his warmth.

“Likewise… Look what you made me do.. I've never..” You swallowed hard, feeling yourself grow heated in embarrassment. 

“What's that?” He pulled back ever so slightly to be able to look at your face, curious by what you meant. He softly tucked a strand of your loose hair behind your ear when he noticed your flustered face. How he could be so gentle and tender after absolutely wrecking you was always beyond your comprehension. 

“In a car.. You know? I've never..” 

A tiny smile formed on his lips, “Seriously?” 

“Stop. It's just! I don't know. I've never done anything risky like that. Like we could totally get arrested for this.” You almost wanted to curl up into yourself in embarrassment but Leon never let go of you, not once, he simply chuckled. 

“You do know I work for the government, right?” He laughed, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Your embarrassment was quickly gone, to say the least. “Gotta say Miss, I am totally ruining you.” 

And he was indeed. What a pretty thing you always were. And by the time he was done with you, you were a flushed, fucked out mess, your hair tousled and your dress pulled down. But he rather enjoyed seeing you like this. And the things he made you do, the things he made you feel, they were beyond this world. To think you always prided yourself in being rational. 

You were about to respond with one of your remarks when an alarm on his watch went off. You jumped at the sound, panicked for a split second thinking it was the police or something, but you calmed down when you saw him lift his wrist and tapped the screen. He smiled at you with pride, and if you didn't know better you would have thought he even puffed out his chest with pride. 

“Would you look at that, I did make you come in five.”

[stvolanis]

What about rafe with a reader who talks a lot land has a bubbly personality and he’s getting annoyed cause she’s just talking on and on and he’s already in a bad mood and so her just talking he’s getting annoyed and like he makes a comment of “why don’t you stop talking and put your mouth to a better use” (sorry for how badly worded this is)

hi! I kinda imagine this as maybe bestfriend!Rafe who kinda manipulates the reader yk? Also knocking two birds w/ one stone by adding a little bit from a different request, hope you don’t mind!💞

Rafe Cameron! who loves his silly little best friend who he’s had a claim on since 6th grade :). Always so sweet to him when you guys were in school together. Giving him the answers, walking with him to all your classes, rides home after school with you on aux cause how could he ever say no to you? Not to mention the fact that he knew you harbored a little crush on him—

Rafe Cameron! Who knew you were heavily inexperienced in the sexual realm of things, which he made sure of after he beat up every guy who even thought they’d be able to breathe the same air as you. He takes great pride in being able to teach you things no one else will. Of course you’d question it, looking up at him with those pretty doe eyes that make his cock pulse with confusion when you guys were in the back seat of his truck one day. “Rafey, I dunno if we should do this—feels weird.” You muttered, your hand tightly wrapped around his cock with his hand shoved down your pants. “Thought you wanted to take care of me, sweetheart? This is just what best friends are supposed to do.”

Rafe Cameron! Who’s been having an exhaustingly annoying day after another group fight between the kooks and pogues. He’s a little scratched up, moping around your house as you go on and on about why he shouldn’t have fought, what could have happened—and then suddenly trailing off to your favorite pasta shell? It was hurting his head. Too much for him to process as he rubbed his temple, watching you babble mindlessly.

Rafe Cameron! Who finally has had enough of your constant yapping. “God, baby, you ever shut the fuck up? Hm? Jus’ be fuckin’ quiet, little girl.” He hissed through clenched teeth, pinching your cheeks together harshly to cease your talking, yet the way your eyes watered and thighs clenched together didn’t go unnoticed. “Think you jus’ need somethin’ stuffed in there so you’ll shut up. That it?” He mocked. You looked up at him from your knees, confused as to what he was referring to.

Rafe Cameron! Who’s cock slapped against your waiting tongue in a taunting manner. Curved slightly, with trimmed hair at the base and heavy balls. His scent strong, consuming your mind with an aching throb between your thighs you knew only Rafe could help. “Gonna teach you how to suck dick like a pro, kay?” He urged, pushing his fat tip into your mouth, further and further till the sounds of you gagging and gasping for air around him was all he could hear, and tears running down your pretty face was all he could see. “That’s my girl. See? All you needed was some good dick to shut cha’little ass up, huh?” He cooed.

don’t be shy, ask to be a part of the tag list and request things!!

TAG LIST: @elvisalltheway101 @epthedream69 @claire-elvisgirl @elvisrealgf @littlehoneyposts @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo @luxuriouslokistan-3 @foxevxid @sapriao @xiyingly @jazminsjaz @likeits2002 @www-interludeshadow-com @khxna @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @hockeyrat @rafeswhorejjsslut @peterpan-neverfails @sunflowerskenz @lemonadygirl @newavenger @bloobewy @hewwokitti3

[yurozo]

resident evil (university au headcanons)

a/n: this is purely based on the beginning of my last year :( feeling bittersweet

chris redfield: a third year sports medicine/kinesiology student. if you're looking for someone who almost always has a water bottle full of creatine in his bag, chris is your guy. he's never the type to dress up, especially because he insists on 8am lectures to 'increase his productivity', so he's usually in sweatpants and under armour compression shirts. he joined the rock climbing club at claire's insistence of getting involved around school, but is unfortunately still getting the hang of it. it's hard to lift all that bodyweight, so the majority of the time he just hangs there. has very little social life. he'll go to a party, drink a single beer, then leave. turns women down because it would mess with his schedule. he's paying a lot of money to be there, and save for a bit of attitude towards his professors, he takes his studies seriously. diet-wise, this man preps like a mfer. protein peanut butter shake at 7.30 am no exceptions, within a 20min time limit of his workout. the dorm fridge has an ungodly amount of boiled eggs. toxic trait: does that white man hand raise when he has a question, and usually only thinks about what he's going to say after his hand goes up. jill valentine:

sociology major, criminology minor. has her schedule perfectly planned out so nothing is before 10am. she can and will ignore chris' pleas to meet her on campus beforehand, usually preferring to go for a coffee before a lecture. is never seen without some source of caffeine in her hand. jill isn't a huge fan of sociological theories, instead choosing to focus on the statistics aspect of it.

her dorm room is an absolute nightmare. there is not a single space on her floor that is not covered in clothes, but has no shame in bringing people over despite this. she'll just kind of awkwardly shuffle them away with her foot to make a pathway.

isn't part of any clubs, mostly because she can't be fucked for that kind of socialization. people always hit on her during class anyways, so it's not like she's hurting for company. she usually hangs out with chris or claire on campus, goading chris into doing something with her or letting claire drag her along into studying. toxic trait: has a windowsill full of empty monster energy drinks. leon kennedy:

a math major, criminology minor. has absolutely handed in multiple sheets of homework with tear stains in the corners. for how nonchalant he seems to be on the outside, he really does take his studies seriously, and always shoots for a perfect gpa. he's primarily seen haunting the third floor library, always looking like he's in a perpetual state of agony.

despite all the silent attention he gets from people during lectures, he does not entertain it whatsoever. the man is there to learn. he has one class with jill where they sit in complete silence together save for a couple of witty jokes at the professor (or other students) expense. the professor both loves and hates him. he's a frequent visitor of office hours, but his assignment is always printed and crushed in his fist. he's had a few short-term girlfriends in university, but nothing long-term. he firmly believes that he has rizz, but he does not. most people just let it slide because he has that attractive weird aura around him. toxic trait: unironically shushes people during a lecture. claire redfield: engineering major, communication minor. another person who takes her studies fairly seriously. the fortunate thing about claire is that she doesn't particularly have to try, the good grades just descend on her from the heavens. it makes chris furious. however like jill, she is not a fan of mornings and is usually seen frowning angrily at the board.

has a friend with a house off campus to store her bike so she can fix it up on her days off, using her engineering notes of course. she's part of a few clubs, but isn't fond of being part of leadership or anything. claire goes purely for the vibes.

goes on a couple strings of dates with guys, but always refuses to go out with people from her classes. she's seen it crash and burn so many times that she's not doing herself. will, however, recommend other people to her brother. toxic trait: pulls up to campus at 9am with the loudest motorcycle engine known to man, and always slams her helmet down on her desk when she sits down.

[whereubeenloca]

Hallways

Part 5 of the Neighbor! Reader series: Table of contents

Summary: On your way to work you run into someone new...

Pairing: Carmy x Reader

Tags: VERY slow burn, Awkward, Claire mention

Word Count: 1153

Wanna be added to the tag list? Let me know!

Tag List: @criesinlies

The last few weeks had been cold and your broken radiator didn’t help. As the temperature dropped, it became harder and harder for you to leave the warm confides of your bed. It was nearly 8:45 by the time you stumbled your way out the door, 15 minutes later than you usually leave. You give yourself a quick pat-down, wallet, keys, phone, laptop, ready. Just as you’re about to step out onto the shared staircase, you hear footsteps clamor from above. You smile at the sound of steps, it wasn’t often you ran into Carmy on your way to work. You rack your brain for something to say as he walks by, but the words die on your tongue as you’re met with someone else. 

A woman, a stranger. Long black hair spills down her shoulders, a puffer tightly zipped up to her neck. Her skin is pale, eyes big, cheeks perfectly pink. Your smile drops a bit as your eyes meet. Blue eyes flick to yours, her lips flick up into a polite smile, you’re quick to copy it. 

“Sorry.” The mystery woman says softly, you wave it off as she hurries down the steps and out the front door. 

Who the fuck was that.

—

Your mind races as you speed walk to the “L”, a stone's throw away from little miss whoever that is. Oh god, are you a creep? No. She’s the one who’s taking your route to work. You aren’t even following her. God, she’s walking slow. You can feel yourself getting closer, debating if it would be weirder to pass her or stay behind her. You awkwardly weave around her and quickly cut over to the staircase, unfortunately she follows you onto the platform.

You try not to stare at her while you’re on the subway, training your eyes on the window right next to her. She scrolls on her phone as she sprawls out in her seat, you grip the railing tighter as the train sways. He never mentioned a girlfriend before. That’s because you aren’t friends, dummy. Rude, whatever, ugh. You take a deep breath as the man to your left decides to fill the car with blueberry scented vape smoke. You choke back a cough and what’s-her-face decides to look up from her phone. Suddenly, your shoes are the most interesting thing on the planet. 

What do you care? It’s not like you’re seeing the guy. No, of course not. He’s your neighbor and it’s well within his right to see who he pleases. Obviously. You barely even talk when you think about it. You didn’t even know his name until last month. You have no ownership to this man so why, why, does this feel so weird?

You chance a look and she’s back to her phone. Her legs are spread too far apart for a subway this crowded. Fucking hate when people do that, where is she even going? Nowhere, probably- woah, no. Women supporting women, she didn’t do anything to you. No, but that’s rude. We’re like fucking sardines in here and she’s taking up so much space, inconsiderate, fucking- Suddenly she stands, ushering an old woman who just got onto the train over to her seat. Her smile is bright as she makes polite small talk with the stranger. Your stomach twists as your stop approaches. Asshole.

—

The day was longer than you thought it would be. You ended up being twenty minutes late to work completely frazzled, a half assed excuse on your lips. Your mind buzzes as you stare at your outlook, mindlessly filing emails to pass the time. It’s embarrassing, really. Had you left at your regular time you would be none the wiser. You mourn your blissful ignorance as your co-worker pops her head in to ask yet another question. 

By the time you hobble home you’re dead on your feet. The wind whips your hair around you as you fight your way home from the subway. Flurries of snow dance around your head as you unlock the door and shove your way inside. 

“Woah, hey.” You hear a voice call out as you poke your head in. Carmy. 

“Oh shit- sorry.” You half laugh as he stumbles away from his mailbox to make room for the door. 

“No, no that’s my bad.” He says with a smile, envelopes tucked between his palms. 

The door closes behind you with a loud thunk. You busy your hands with the heavy lock. 

“You, usually home this early?” You ask over your shoulder. 

“Nope. Renovations.” He beams, you don’t think you’ve ever heard him this excited. 

“No shit, really?” You smile back, running your hands over your hair in an attempt to look even slightly presentable. 

“Yeah. It’s- I mean, it sucks and it’s stressful… but I think it’ll be really good you know?” He fiddles with the papers in his hands, bending the stack of bills over and over. 

All you can do is nod as you soak him in. Your eyes settle onto his face, a smile is spread across his cheeks so wide it crinkles his eyes a bit. It’s cute, you aren’t sure you’ve seen him smile like that before. 

“Congrats.” You smile softly “When uh- are you guys planning on opening?” You ask as you walk to your own mailbox. 

“Little over a month left.” His words sound more like a sigh as he rocks back onto his heels. “It’s been a lot.” 

“I bet.” You hum back, retrieving your own envelopes. “I loved the food you gave me last week by the way, oh my god.” 

“Yeah?” He asks, cheeks flushing at the praise.

“Oh yeah. If you have any more leftovers please send them my way.” You laugh, lightly tapping the toe of your shoe to his. He laughs at the action, raising a tattooed hand up to his face to cover his smile. 

“I might have to start charging you.” He jokes. 

“Well maybe I should come by.” You respond back. 

A huff of air leaves his lips as the conversation stills. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, teeth digging into his cheek in an attempt to subdue his grin. Despite how much you want to, you don’t let yourself stare. Your gaze flicks to the envelopes in your hands for a split second before meeting his stare. 

“Well uh. I should probably…” You say, tilting your head toward the staircase he’s currently blocking. 

“Oh- yeah, yes.” Carmy laughs awkwardly as he steps to the side. “My bad.” 

“Goodnight, Carmy.” You smile, “Good luck with the restaurant.” 

“Thank you. I uh- will.” He says awkwardly, clearing his throat and thumbing through his mail. “Night.” He finishes, a little too far away. You’re already at your door by the time he decides to say it. 

You smile to yourself as you move through your apartment. 

This is gonna suck.

[sweetbillwriting]

Way Out of Line

FIVE

Beneath my perfume and make-up I'm just a baby in disguise. And though I know that it's wrong to be alone with him that "come on look" is in my eyes.

Character: Keith Toshko from Barbarian (2022) played by Bill Skarsgård.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.

Notes: Thank you to all of you who read this. It's really encouraging to see likes ticking in. Feel free to leave a comment too. 🩷

“You know they would throw you out if they knew you're sleeping with a married man. Or, is he using you? Is that it? It all sounds so uncharacteristic of you.”

Claire and I sat in a lonely corner of the campus cafe. She was a member of the same sorority as I and knew as well as I about their strict rules. For some reason, I had joined a religious sorority when I didn't get a spot in the other ones, and now I had strict rules to follow about alcohol, abstinence, and activities. The closest I came to being religious was my mom's background being Catholic, but now I was a part of a Puritan sorority and pretended to love Jesus more than my parents. I did it because it looked good on the résumé and to get friends because I had struggled with that in the beginning of college. Claire was one of my friends from the sorority. She was much more liberal than the others, even if she was a virgin and waited for a man to marry her before she would spread her legs.

“No! He doesn't force me. Keith is… Really kind. A gentleman.”

“If he was, he wouldn't encourage you to have sex.”

I didn't say anything because I felt a weird feeling when she said that. I felt both promiscuous and also irritated. She made it sound like me and Keith just had sex when we hadn't even had sex, really.

Just when the silence started to get uncomfortable, my phone rang where it lay on the table next to my takeaway mug of tea. I gave it a look and saw the phone number that ended with 78. Keith. I hadn't put his number in because I didn't want my parents to accidentally see who was calling me. During a two-week’ period, we had started something new, him picking me up in his car so we could make out in a secluded place. It was awfully exciting, and I felt wild doing it.

“Hey bunny,” he said with his most charming voice and made me giggle like a little schoolgirl.

“Hey…” I hadn't yet come up with a good pet name for him, even if I tried every night.

“Are you ready? I can be there in ten minutes.”

I gave Claire a fast look; she looked at me bored. I had left her earlier that week for him. She knew we just made out because I didn't feel comfortable doing anything more in his car, even though he tried the first time. He had taken it as a gentleman and hadn't tried again after that. Claire was just worried for me, and I knew she would have been supportive if it was another guy, but this was an older, married man. She sighed when I giggled and said he could pick me up at the regular place.

“I'm sorry, but we don't have so much time—”

“Because your parents would never accept that you two were dating?”

I groaned, irritated, and collected my things.

“No, because he will go away for work for three weeks.”

She nodded a bit regretfully and took a sip of her tea.

“What kind of work?”

“Well, he's a musician, but, like, jazz musicians like to jam with many different people to challenge their sound—”

“Jam?” She said it teasingly because it was obviously not my word.

“That's what he says! Anyway, they're like a collective, but he also does much of the administrative things, so he will try to find cheap places for them to stay so they don't need to put out so much money for hotels and so on.”

Claire nodded with big eyes. Something told me she was surprised I knew much about his work. He and I had actually talked about such things. It wasn't just sex like she believed.

Knew you were perfect after the first kiss. Took a deep breath like, "Ooh" Feels like forever, baby, I never thought that it would be you…

After had said goodbye to Claire, I rushed away to the parking lot where Keith usually would wait. His Volvo stood anonymous among all the other cars. I wished a bit that he had a cooler car; that would add to the experience of having a secret relationship. He started the engine when I approached, causing me to quicken my steps, which made him open the door and peek out.

“You don't have to run; we're not in a hurry.”

I smiled playfully at him and ran to the passenger door so I could jump in next to him. He sat down again, and both of us slammed our respective doors closed. He looked at me with a smirk, and I fixed my hair as a nervous tic.

“You don't need to run, but I should be honest and say that I like seeing that little skirt lift with every step.”

He smirked and pulled lightly on my pink, pleated skirt. I had thought it was too short to wear, but his words made me decide I would wear it more often. I blushed, my cheeks almost as pink as the skirt’s fabric, and he didn't make it better by taking my hand and kissing the back of it after he started the car.

He never kissed me among people, but in his car he could be a little more daring and take my hand or caress my thigh. Now he took one more step and kissed my hand. I looked at him with starry eyes while he was driving, so at first I didn't even hear his question.

“Hm? Did you get back the assignment?” He asked. I had an assignment a week before that he had helped me with. He asked about the assignment now like it was his work.

“Nothing yet, but I have another assignment you can help me with.”

I smirked a little when I saw him get disappointed, but then he smiled a little.

“You can always get help from me. Always.”

I giggled a little which made him grin, but I could see he didn't understand why I giggled really.

He drove us to a park where there was a parking spot hidden behind the trees. We had been there before, and there we could make out in the backseat without being seen. We did the same today and shifted between talking about school and his work. For me, it felt like we were in a relationship, and between relaxed talk and heated kisses, I gave him intimate hugs. While I sat straddled his lap and hugged him around his neck, his hands had snuck under my tights and hugged my ass cheeks.

“I have an idea…” He mumbled strained, like my hug suffocated him a bit. I let him go a bit so I could watch his face. “I'm going away Sunday night—”

I looked down in sadness, but Keith reacted at once. “Aw honey… It's not a long time…” He put my hair behind my ears and smiled comfortingly towards me. “I'll be home before you know it.”

“Promise?” I could hear I sounded like I did when my parents left me in school when I was little, but the feeling was almost the same. Keith nodded with a smirk and continued to play with my hair.

“But on Saturday… I have booked a room at a hotel, so our last night could be amazing and… I really want your first time to be special, baby.”

He gave me a pointed but soft look and pushed out his crotch a bit. I gave him a blushing smile because the thought of making love to him made me all flustered. It felt like I was a virgin, but I wasn't, but Keith called it my first time anyway. I wondered if he had forgotten that I had had sex with my high school boyfriend or if he really meant our first time. Either way, I just smiled because it didn't feel important; he wanted to make it nice for me, and that was sweet.

“Can you afford that? I know divorce lawyers are expensive and—"

“I will make myself afford it. I want that moment with you.”

His fingers dragged through my hair, then over my thin, cable-knit sweater. My nipples had already hardened just by the thought of being alone with him in a hotel room, and he couldn't stop himself from dragging his thumbs over them. I giggled a little, with excitement and nerves, but leaned forward so I could kiss him. He laughed softly when I giggled into the kiss, and out of nowhere he smacked my ass, causing me to jump in his lap.

×××

Baby, I'd give up anything to travel inside your mind. Baby, I fall in love again come every summertime. My daddy taught me to choose 'em wisely, but you don't have to try 'cause, baby, I fall in love every summertime…

I bit my lip when he came into the living room where I sat. Keith was just dressed in a pair of black sweatpants and showed off his trim physique. With a gray towel, he dried his hair with one hand. When he saw my lustful gaze, he flexed his stomach so his abs became more defined, and it made me gaze down at my laptop with a heavy blush. I could hear him laugh softly, then he sat down next to me. I was working on the assignment I had mentioned to him before but I had gotten stuck and mostly reread my words over and over. My dad had tried to help me but wasn't much help, and if I were honest, I had known at once it wasn't his help I needed but Keith's. My dad and mom were intellectual but didn't have that analytic gift Keith had. He could just turn words around that made me think in a different way or ask a simple question. He always had a new angle and a pedagogical way that made me think. It was also really sexy to listen to him, and sometimes I lost my attention because I started to drift away in filthy thoughts. Now he sat next to me, shirtless, smelling of warm vanilla, rosemary and oak and quickly corrected my text. Just shifting words in some places or fixing the grammar. I breathed in the heavenly scent and looked at his profile. I had looked at his features closely so many times but always found something new to look at; this time it was the two small scars on his cheek. He had a bigger one on his other cheek, but these were smaller and not as deep.

“Hey?” Far away, I could hear my dad's voice. It sounded like he was standing on the other side of a railway, but he really stood in the doorway, looking at us confused. I hadn't even thought about our behavior being weird; for me, it felt like this must be normal behavior for a girl and her dad's friend just because our real behavior was so much more scandalous. I looked at my dad and smiled innocently while Keith sat up better, showing off his naked chest and stomach for my dad.

“What are you doing?” My dad tried to smile and sat down awkwardly on the armrest of an armchair.

“Keith is helping me with the assignment.”

Keith smiled at my dad and put his hands behind his head. I gave him a fast look with red cheeks and hoped my dad didn't notice.

“You know how good I am at those sorts of things. I was the one helping you in college, I think?” Keith teased my dad, who still had the same awkward smile on his lips. He took some deep breaths and then looked at me. I wore just a strappy top, like I often did at home, and a pair of baby pink velour pants.

“Honey, I think you should put something more on…” He said it strictly to me, and just that tone made me swallow hard and nod. Even if my dad hadn't said anything mean and never had done, his words made me feel cheap so I put away the laptop so I could run up to my bedroom. In that moment I forgot he actually had a point, that Keith had given me the wrong sort of attention; I was just ashamed my dad had even had the possibility to see me as a sexual being. I wanted him to see me as his little girl forever.

I stayed in my room and watched an old 2000s series until I thought it must be time for dinner. I had put on a white oversized sweater and walked down doubtfully, afraid to disappoint my dad again. I could hear loud laughter from the dining room, and even if I felt awkward, I entered to see what was happening. My dad and Keith sat and played cards while drinking whiskey. Keith was also dressed now and wore a plaid flannel shirt that was looking ragged after years of use. He looked up at me with a smile, and so did my dad, who opened his mouth to say something, but Keith managed to interrupt him.

“Do you know how to play?” He asked with a smile. I giggled, because I always did when he smiled that playful smile towards me, and then I shook my head. Once again I had a hard time knowing what was okay behavior for us to have, so when he pulled me down to sit over one of his thick thighs, I let him. He held me close to his chest while he explained the game and showed me his cards. I looked up at him dreamily and laid my hand over his when he hugged my waist. He looked me deep in the eyes while explaining and smirked when I licked my lips. We were totally gone in our own world and didn't even notice that my dad had tried to interrupt us several times.

“Keith!” Exclaimed my dad, upset after he tried to interrupt us in a calm way without succeeding. I looked up at him, and Keith let me go slowly; both he and I knew what my dad wanted to say, and we swallowed hard. I moved away, sitting down on a chair far from them while Keith fixed his clothes and hair nervously.

“Can I talk to you?” My dad sounded like he tried to control his anger when he stood up, trying to look threatening, but it lost its impact when Keith stood up in all his 6 '4 glory, with broad shoulders and thick arms. My dad probably felt the same thing because his anger seemed to wash away, and instead he gave Keith a nervous smile. I watched them go away to the kitchen and sharpened my ears so I could hear their conversation.

“Keith… I get that you don't mean it like that, but… She's my daughter. You can't let her sit in your lap.”

“I'm sorry, man. It was stupid. She just looked so sad, and I wanted… Yeah, I think your words earlier really hurt her, you know?”

My dad was silent a bit longer than you should be in a conversation, and I understood he didn't like what Keith said. “I care for her. She's such a sweet, sweet girl, and I want her best,” continued Keith with his soft voice. I felt my own nerves itch under my skin, but he didn't sound nervous at all, laying for my dad like that.

“I'm happy you care for her. That's great, and you can probably help—”

“Can we just forget this now? And maybe you can chill a bit? I don't mean it like that. I just want her best.”

I didn't hear them say anything more after that, and I imagined that my dad had given him more of a silent agreement. The argument was embarrassing, but I had liked hearing Keith say several times that he cared for me. It was also a relief to hear how my dad believed him. He didn't need to know everything. For now, it was mine and Keith's love, just ours.

×××

The lilac bra was in a balconette style with white lace and without straps. I had a matching pair of thongs that had the same big satin bow in the back as the bra had between the cups. The set was adorable. I also had a black set. A black lace triangle bra with high-cut panties. Both of them were see-through. In a panic, I had borrowed my dad's credit card that Saturday so I could shop with Farah before my hotel stay with Keith. I couldn't come to him in my cotton panties; I needed sexy lingerie. Farah also helped me with some other clothes. She was used to men more than I was and helped me buy things that Keith would think were sexy. Even if Keith didn't seem to be bothered by my lack of experience, I wanted him to think I was sexy, not just a stupid girl. My parents thought I would sleep over at Farah's and that Keith would already go to Detroit to work. They didn't react when I jumped into his car, laying my suitcase next to his, because they believed he would just give me a ride to Farah’s. In reality, we would go to the closest city and check into a hotel so he could, for the first time, penetrate me. It was an awful lie, but still I liked it, and when we had left my neighborhood, both Keith and I laughed in euphoria.

The room wasn't a room but a suite, decorated in fluffy beige fabrics and with gold details. It was much more lavish than I was prepared for; he had really spent some money on me. He had found the white grand piano and played a tune lazily while still standing up. He wore an emerald knitted sweater and the same black jeans I was used to seeing him in. He looked like such a man, and I had seen how the receptionist smiled a bit too big while he was checking in. I stood further away with the suitcases, so I couldn't hear them, but I could see how she laughed at something he said. I played with the edge of my short brown gingham dress while looking in the room, the same nervous tics I had when looking at him and the receptionist. I felt misplaced but smiled when he looked up at me from the piano and then walked playfully towards me with his hands in his front pockets.

“Baby girl… Is it something?” He smiled softly and took a hold of my chin and steered it towards his face. He did it more forcefully and pulled me up on my toes with the grip. He looked down on my feet but smiled like he just thought it was cute how I was standing on my tippy toes like the perfect Barbie doll.

“I'm really happy to be here with you…” I just said and dragged my hands over his hips.

“Should we bring up a bottle of champagne?”

I cleared my throat awkwardly, and Keith released me with a smirk when he understood what I meant.

“Oh right, you don't drink. Ehm… A Coke?”

×××

It didn't take him long to get me to sit in his lap on the edge of the bed and share deep kisses. On the bedside table stood his champagne bottle, open, with a used champagne glass and my small bottle of Coke still half full. He had pulled up my skater dress around my waist and kneaded my nylon covered ass cheeks in his hands.

"Jacqueline, this is all your fault, you know…” he said playfully and steered me so I laid my belly over his other thigh. I lay down more comfortably without a thought, so pleased with him having power over me.

“What's my fault?” I said with a giggle. Keith pulled down my tights to my knees but continued when he realized I couldn't move with them there. Once again he corrected my position, so I lay over his lap with my ass in the air. The nerves had started to wake up again, but I trusted him, so I let his long fingers knead my flesh while he breathed deeply.

“That we’re here. You know, you seduced me… Since Christmas Day, you have strutted around, just teasing me.”

I giggled a little in my hands, quite pleased I had been able to seduce a grown man, but when I felt a hard spank on my left cheek, the giggle got caught in my throat. Keith was quiet; he maybe waited for me to say something about his action, but when I didn't say anything, he did it again. I made a pained noise, and once again he waited in silence to see if I would say something. I couldn't decide what I felt about it at first, but when he talked at the same time as he spanked me the third time, I knew that I liked it.

“My little baby girl… I just spank you because I want your best.” I moaned, and that made Keith play with the thin band of my lavender thongs. He followed the thread down between my cheeks and then laid two fingers over the lilac fabric over my pussy. Smoothly he dragged them up and down, making the blood dance around between my legs. When I made a small moan again, he smacked my right cheek hard.

“Now you have me; you got what you wanted, baby girl. Now I want some things too.” I looked back at him with some struggle. Keith must have seen it was hard for me to look at him in that angle, so he pulled me up and straddled over his legs again, but the change of position also seemed to have changed his need and with dominant hands; he opened the zipper in the back of my dress and then pulled it off. I thought he would maybe want to admire me in my lingerie set, but instead he demanded that I take it all off. I stood between his legs when I pulled off both the bra and the panties. I felt embarrassed and small when I stood, once again, fully naked in front of him while he was still dressed. Keith smiled and dragged me down in bed, this time letting me lie on my back while he sat next to me, looking down on me. Without saying anything, he pushed my knee down on the mattress so he could see me fully exposed. I let him do anything he wanted just to see his eyes glitter. He dragged his big hand on the inside of my thigh and then licked his lips.

“You're my sweet girl, right?” He looked at me with a soft smile while continuing to pat the inside of my thigh.

“Yes.” I nodded eagerly, and I spread my thighs even more.

“My baby girl, Bunny, and no one else's?”

I nodded and looked down at his hands that he had raised to be able to drag two fingers lazily over my slit. “Say it, say that you're my baby girl, only mine.” His fingertips started to do slow circles on the inside of my pussy, and when I opened my mouth to talk, his long index finger pushed into me. I said my answer with a moan: 

“I'm only your baby girl…”

Keith leaned down and kissed me while his thumb had found my clit to roll in circles. I looked at him with heavy eyes when he kept his face close to mine. 

“And I'm your daddy.” With a fast hand movement, he made it feel like both my clit and my insides vibrated, and I moaned loudly, but when he didn't get an answer, he stopped and looked at me again. I looked at him almost hurt, but I knew what he wanted to hear at that moment; there was just one right answer. 

“Yes, daddy.” 

“Your only daddy.” 

“My only daddy.”

Keith smirked and then gave me a kiss. 

“Do you want your first time to be with daddy?” 

He stood up on his knees, pulling off his sweater. I looked at him, still lying on my back. He was so big and beautiful. My sex was still pounding, and I was deep in that little world he had created for us. 

“I want Daddy to be my first.”

Keith stood up, looking pleased but also powerful. I could understand why, because I was just lying there, wet and needy, just waiting for his cock. Slowly he pulled off his jeans and boxers so I could see him in full naked glory. His cock was hard in anticipation of what would happen. He looked so big when he crawled down between my legs, his hands holding my thighs, pushing them back against my belly. He was just sharp edges and lean muscles. I moaned when he dragged his cock through my juices and when he spanked my clit lightly with the head of his cock. I was so far gone by my pleasure, but when I felt him push against my opening, the nerves made themselves known again, and I lifted my hips so he couldn't penetrate me.

“What is it, sweetie?” Asked Keith softly and dragged his hands over my thighs. I looked at his kind eyes for a few seconds, and he gave me a crooked smile, like he knew what I wanted to say. 

“Tell Daddy.”

“Will it hurt?” 

“Maybe a little.”

“It's so big.” 

“I know, honey… Daddy's cock is big.” 

I nodded a little, my cheeks heating because of our conversation's nature.

“Say that Daddy's cock is big…” 

He whispered and leaned down to kiss me. I kissed him at once after that and looked into his green eyes. 

“Daddy's cock is so biihii-” 

He hadn't let me say the whole sentence until he had penetrated me. I could feel it wasn't fully, and when he moved to look down, I could see he was far from completely penetrating me. Keith breathed heavily, like he had a job to do, and sat up a little so he could force himself further into me. I made a pained sound, but seeing him lost in the world we had created together, I knew I wanted everything he could give me, even if it hurt. He took a hold of my thighs and pulled me closer to him so he could just make one deep thrust until he was fully in me. I could feel tears in my eyes because it did hurt, and Keith looked at me with kind but heavy eyes. 

“It feels so good, baby; you will feel it soon too… You're so tight and small and fucking Christ...” 

He pulled out slowly so he could push in just as deeply again, and now I could finally feel pleasure, and I moaned freely. He pushed me back a bit more, and he stood up fully on his knees so I could see his deep thrusts. Both of us flushed pink, and his cock’s veins were so prominent it looked like they could burst. I couldn't understand how something so big had been able to push into me, but maybe it was because of our shared juices. I had never seen myself so wet, but I had never heard myself doing those sorts of sounds either. It hurt so good. 

“Daddy…” I whined, now fully immersed in the fantasy, and it made Keith laugh and pound me faster. Once again I called him the name, and it made him give it to me harder. When I started to feel like I was done, like I didn't have energy for more, he flipped me around. He forced me up on my knees so he could stand on his knees and penetrate me from behind. When he once again started to thrust so hard I was just mush under him, he spanked me but also dragged his thumb over my asshole. I didn't think about it then, that he maybe had a fixation, but when he pulled out to come, he pushed his cock against my second hole and smeared me in his sticky mess. 

I'm a good girl gone bad.

Get in that car, drive fast.

Get on the road.

Take off my clothes…

×

[cajon-desastre]

Celebrating Outlander's 10th Anniversary with a special interview ft. Matthew B. Roberts and Maril Davis - Enjoy!

Season One

Hello Sassenachs of Reddit!

We hope you’ve been enjoying our celebrations in honor of the ten year anniversary of Outlander! This subreddit has been such a phenomenal resource and community for Outlander fans that we wanted to do something special for you all. So this week during the production of Season 8 we pulled both Matthew B. Roberts and Maril Davis from their busy schedules to do a quick Q&A about their early days on the show. The resulting answers are transcribed below for a bit of bonus reading material. -XO, Bestie

Let’s talk about the premiere episode, “Sassenach,” which is turning 10 years old. When you look back, what do you remember that fans might not know?

Maril Davis: Well, I don't know if this is a fun fact, but our first shot of that episode was Claire in the scene where she comes out after treating the soldiers and the war is over and she drinks the champagne. That was literally our first scene that we shot from that episode. We took a picture of the clapboard and all kinda looked around and felt like, oh, this is the start of something special. I didn't know it was gonna be this special. I didn’t know it would be this many years. That was my first memory of it.

Caitríona Balfe on her first day on set.

The day the magic began!

Matthew B. Roberts: Going back to the first episode, everybody was new. In a weird way, we were all Sassenachs. We had this group from Los Angeles that came over here and even though everybody spoke English, it was like being in a whole new world. And then we had a cast that was new to a big, American television show - certainly Caitríona and Sam. So, there were a lot of newbies, so to speak. I know a lot of people had worked in the industry for a long time but it just felt like we all stepped through the stones in that first episode. The first day was a little weird because it was not in Scotland, it was in “France,” because we did Claire being a nurse in France for our first day. And I believe we even did a little side unit of Claire learning how to smoke with Uncle Lamb. So, we were all over the place but it was really exciting. I remember the group of us being so excited to hear the word “action” and get going, you know? 

Do you remember the first time you ever watched the finished episode either in edit or among fans at the first premiere?

Maril Davis: I remember the first two episodes because they were kind of like a pair… watching those and just being so excited because, as a fan of the books, seeing that come to life was very special. I knew so immediately that we cast this series so well. I knew in that moment, “Wow, this is gonna work!” I remember having that feeling in the edit.

Matthew B. Roberts: I don't remember the day but it's like this: we've all watched premieres. We've all watched pilots. But when you watch something and you go, “Wow. We have a show…” I remember the feeling of watching it. “Wow. This is something I have not seen.” You congratulate yourself but you never know if you’re ever gonna get a back 9 or if you're ever going to get a second season. You're always hanging on a thread. We didn't know. And it wasn't broadcast television, so you still didn't know. I don't think we were quite done when we started airing. So we got some feedback and we were living in the days of social media really gearing up so that instantaneous feedback was something new. I'll tell you, that was weird! ... I didn't really get it until around the end of the second season how impactful the show had been to a lot of people. We put it out there but the fans bring the characters into their homes each week. They fell in love with them, they fell in love with the show, and they wanted more. And I know how I felt when I would watch my favorite shows and they would go on hiatus and you're like, “Oh god, please come back!” You wanna spend more time with these people that are now your friends and family that you care for.

As for the fan events… we had a really big premiere in LA for Season 5. So many people came up to me and said how much it meant to them. They didn't say it was good. They didn't say they liked the show. They said how much it meant to them. And that to me is different than, “I like the show.” That means a lot to me. 

The Season 5 Premiere in Los Angeles.

The story goes that Matt gave Maril the books around 2011/2012 because she was looking for a new project with Ronald D. Moore. Matt, how did you come upon the books?

Matthew B. Roberts: In one of my first jobs in the industry, a long time ago, I was a reader where you read scripts and books and do coverage on them. The production company I was working for handed me these books and they wanted to make TV movies out of them. I read the books and I liked them but I passed on them. I said, “They're just too big, there's too much in them. There's no way you could do it.” … I just couldn't imagine Outlander, any one of the books to tell you the truth, in an hour and forty minutes. You’d lose so much. So, I passed. And I literally made the note, “But it would make a great television show.” … Then Maril was outside my office one day talking to another friend of ours… she was looking for something epic. I just so happened to have the books on my shelf still. I kinda carried them along, they were too big, so I kept them in my office. I brought them out to her and I said, “Here, read these.” And she read them and fell in love with them. As the quote goes, the rest is history!

What stood out about the books that let you know this would be a fantastic TV show? 

Matthew B. Roberts: The shows that I loved and really bonded with had love stories that endured and it could be different kinds of love stories. There are friends. It could be husband and wife. It could be boyfriend girlfriend. Girlfriend girlfriend. Boyfriend boyfriend. It didn't matter, they were love stories. And when you start reading Outlander and you get into it, you start to realize, “Wow, this is an epic story!” When you start getting into over the course of time, you go, “Oh, it could be very episodic too. It's not only episodic, but it's serialized.” You can kind of come into it at a different time because there's time travel. If you started Outlander in Season 3, Season 3 kind of stands up on its own and then you go backwards and you go, “Oh, that's how they got there.” Oddly enough, when they handed me the books, I just took the top book off and read it and it just happened to be Dragonfly in Amber. I didn't read Outlander first. They didn't tell me there was an order. So I just read Dragonfly in Amber and it held up perfectly fine. Then I went back and read Outlander, and I was like, “Oh, that's how all that happened” but it still held up perfectly fine. You could tell Outlander in 50 different ways–pick a spot, start there and go backwards and forwards. As a storyteller, in television terms, you realize there's so much material here but there's also so much emotion over the course of this journey. And isn't that what we hear stories for? It's to be afraid, or to fall in love, or to fantasize, or to travel somewhere you can't go. Well, Outlander does all that.

Was there anything about the first season of the show that you fought for—for example, casting, certain lines or plot points, characters, etc.—and are proud to have in the show? 

Matthew B. Roberts: You know, that first writer's room was fun. It was fun to bring all the ideas and favorite parts because everybody had different things that they really liked about the book. And, to tell you the truth, that's how it works. You bond with certain parts of the story. I think the one thing that we felt very strongly about was can we tell this book the way it's meant to be told in the sense that Claire's narrative and inner journey is very big in these books. We had to go with the conceit, be bold and go, “We're just gonna do voice over.” It’s something that we don't keep up with all the time now because Claire has people to talk to. It's one of the reasons why, not only did we love the Murtagh character, but Murtagh gave Claire and Jamie someone to talk to when you're trying to get out of the head. We always say you can't film a thought and because so much of Claire's emotional journey is in her internal dialogue and monologues, we had to figure out how to get that out. We just dove into the conceit. But we learned our lesson in the first season. We had probably too many and they were too long, so we'd have to pause shooting and the actors would have to just stand around because we knew 45 seconds of voice over would come and we went, we can't do that anymore. So, we had to struggle and figure out, alright, what's the best way of doing this? Let's just play the action and see where it fits. So rather than make room for it, we kind of calibrated it in the timings.

Maril Davis: You could say I fought for Caitríona but I wasn't the only one. I remember we were about three weeks away from filming. We had potential other choices and we could have easily made the call to pick one of the other actresses for the role because production was really on us. It's very unusual to start in 2-3 weeks on a shoot this big and not have an actress. And Costume needed a Claire. I just remember saying to Ron in our office, if we don't get these two right, if we don't get the right Jamie and Claire, if they don't have the right chemistry, we're never going to succeed. So, I felt very strongly that we had to wait for the right person. And literally the next day, Toni Graphia sent me an email saying I found this woman named Caitríona. We got so many casting tapes. She was in an area we hadn't seen, maybe overlooked, or maybe that hadn't been presented to us for some reason. We all watched her and instantly knew and flew her out to Los Angeles. It went very fast from there.

What has been the most difficult thing about adapting Outlander for the screen?

Matthew B. Roberts: The challenge is to take what is meant for a book, that medium, and bring it to life. We simply cannot do certain scenes the way they're written just from a sheer time and budget standpoint. And you know it as soon as you read it, you go “God, I wish we could do this.” And you know you can't. We can't get this many people, or they can't build this many costumes in this amount of time. So, we pick the moments. … Oddly enough in Season 3, the Battle of Culloden technically isn't in the book. We find Jamie after. On the first pass, Culloden was really big and we realized we couldn’t film it, not the way it was written, so we had to figure out a way of bringing all that emotion to the screen but still have the feeling of a battle. That's what I think we've done really well. I think the group has done such a magnificent job because we don't need to show all the battles, we need to show the emotion and why it matters to Jamie and Claire. Once we went, “It's not about the fighting and the blowing up... It's about who we care about in these battles, focus on them,” then we brought down the scale a little bit and filmed what was important. 

Sam Heughan filming the Battle of Culloden (Episode 301).

Maril Davis: I think a lot of seasons have been challenging. I actually think this last season has been the most challenging. Every season has its challenge but some seasons just work out so well. I’m incredibly proud of Season 7. We didn't know if we were ending with Season 7 so we took two books and had so much material to choose from. The first season was also very easy because it was so easy to follow the books. … Season 8 has been challenging not only because we're ending before the books (so that is its own challenge) but it's also the last season. There's a lot of pressure. I feel like this book is a set up for the next book and its finale. So it's been challenging to try to go out on a season when you don't have the ending at hand.

Maril Davis and the crew on the set of Season 8 (from her Instagram @nightmaril)

Looking back at when you first started production, what were the main challenges or surprises of shooting Season 1 in Scotland?

Maril Davis: When we first started here, we were told that everyone shoots 11 day fortnights. So, for the first 3 months, we were in 11 day fortnights. For Americans who don't know, we shot the full week through Saturday and only had Sunday off, basically. It was very difficult and I think we were all dragging. Then we found out they do 11 day fortnights in the UK but usually on very short runs, shows that are 4 or 5 episodes long. About 3 months in, we went back to a more traditional 5 days a week and that was a huge relief. It was also very challenging in the beginning with the weather in very remote areas. But I honestly look back on those days and those are some of my happiest memories. I think we felt like we were all in it together and doing something really special. Even though it was tough, I really cherish those first seasons.

Sam Heughan and Caitríona Balfe during the filming of Season 1.

Matthew B. Roberts: It’s been a pretty amazing transformation, I'd say. When we started out, the studios that we have now manufactured parts for cell phones or something. It was just hollowed out empty warehouses and we transformed it over a decade. Now, it's essentially a working studio. We have construction. We have a mill. We have costume warehouses. We have prop warehouses. We can fabricate almost anything there. We also now have seven stages. We started off with two. And they weren't soundproofed! When it rained really hard we had to yell “cut” and we had to open up the doors to get the smoke out because we used real candles. Now we have extractors. It's soundproofed. It's a modern studio. We've really come a long way! Also with the crews. The first year, we brought crews up from different parts of the UK and once Outlander became established, so many of the Scots who had had to leave home to work came back and they got to go to their homes and families every night. They could work on a show that they were proud of, or I think they're proud of.  

Our cast of characters have become so iconic! Do you have any favorite memories from seeing any of the cast embody their characters for the first time? 

Matthew B. Roberts: We started in the writers’ room a year before we started filming. We had lived with these characters for a long time. I'd read all the books up to that point multiple times before we even started. So, I was fighting what I'd already imagined. And then you have people stepping on the stage and you go, “Is that Jamie Fraser? Is that Claire Fraser?” … You get something that you didn't expect and that you didn't even know you wanted. I didn't know I wanted Murtagh to live on but after seeing Duncan play him, I did. And that just happened over and over and over. I mean, think about what Lauren Lyle did with Marsali. She brought her to life and then you just keep writing to that. You dig those stories out of the books and go, “Let’s tell those stories.” That happened over and over again. Jamie and Claire were always going to be the through line. The more Caitríona and Sam embodied them and brought their own take to the characters, we found that current in the river. You go, “Let's take that path because that's the way they're taking the characters and those are the stories you want to tell.” So you mine those out of the book.

Maril Davis: Caitríona and Sam, obviously… seeing them together for the first time in Los Angeles. They met for the first time at Sony Studios. They have a very small screening room that's outside one of the office buildings and that's where they first met the first time. We all just were like, “Oh, this is really going to work. That was amazing.” Also, we cast Sam first, so Sam was able to read with some of our other cast besides Caitríona. I was in London once with him and got to see him read with Graham McTavish for the first time. It was really exciting seeing their chemistry. It came down to Graham and another actor, and their chemistry really popped on the screen. What was also interesting about that casting session is that we had Sam read with Laura Donnelly. At the time, she was a potential Claire contender. As soon as we saw her we all were like, this is our Jenny. She was fabulous, so she could’ve easily done any part, but just seeing them together and realizing “we have Jamie's sister” was also really special

What has been the most surprising thing that has happened to you, or to your careers, because of Outlander?  

Matthew B. Roberts: I don't know if I can answer “surprising.” I can answer that Outlander's given me a lot. I've gone from Producer to Showrunner and it's given me the ability to do a lot more in my career than I might have imagined ten years ago. It's given me a new family in Scotland that I didn't know that I could have. I've built lifetime friendships. We talk a lot about Outlander being a family. We've established this place, this studio, and so much of our crew that's worked from the very first episode are still here. Some have gone out, but they come back. I think it's because we built a really caring family. That's why we've had so many babies born. If Outlander ever comes back in ten years, we have a full crew just ready to go!

Maril Davis: I was talking to Diana Gabaldon the other day because we can see the light at the end of the tunnel, although that's not an appropriate way to describe this ending because light at the end of the tunnel means you're almost done and you're pleased about it. It's such a bittersweet ending. We're all incredibly sad. It's been a tough season because of the emotions of it all. But I was just thanking her because I truly feel like I'm not sure I'll have this experience again on another show. I have other shows, and I will have other shows, but I feel like this was, in a weird way, my first, along with a lot of other people's first—Sam, Caitríona, Toni, Matt… so many of us. This was the thing that really launched us all and we did it together. The TV industry has changed and now there's so much more saturation that this is just a very special one. When you're involved with something like this and you get a crew, cast, and writers you love… we all realized how special this was. That's one of the reasons it's hard to leave it, because it feels like such a defining moment for everyone's career at the same time and you don't often get that in this industry. You certainly don't often get 10 years of making a show.

After all these years, is there anything that you haven’t been asked about Outlander that you’d like to talk about?

Matthew B. Roberts: We get asked a lot, you know, what are funny moments or what are your favorite moments? I don't have favorites. I think that every episode is supposed to do the thing it's supposed to do and if you take one away, then you can't get to the next one… So many of us care about this show and I mean deeply care about it. We put our hearts and souls into this show for 10 years, 12 years for some of us that started on day one, and we want to see it all the way through. Is it important that people like it? Of course. But I think it's more important that it means something to them.

Maril Davis: Oh my god. What question have I never been asked? I will say, when you're not an actor, you get asked the questions that are a little more dry. You don't get the fun things, like, who cracks up the most in the writers' room? Actually, I'm not sure anyone totally cracks up. I don't know if that would be me. But we don't get asked the fun questions. We get asked: What's the tone of this season? Can you describe this season in 10 words?

Okay Maril, here’s one fun question to close us out then… obviously, the costumes on Outlander have been amazing. If you could steal any of them, which would you steal?

Maril Davis: Claire, in the first season, had this amazing riding coat with fur trim that she then gave to Brianna and that Brianna wore. I love that. And, I mean, the Dior suit. It feels like you gotta go with that.

The riding coat and the "Dior Suit."

Reddit

[katiethelmie]

Vampire AU

Just some lil ideas on the vampire AU idea and extra messy sketches to get into the Halloween spirit!

Literally just make it The bear but Syd is a vampire in this universe

Having her being a vampire, how? Maybe she’s been a vampire for a long time, traveling around the world being the jack of all trades

Always having her cooking be her best skill

She came back to Chicago cause she wanted to be back home again

Found out one of the favored chefs were also back in Chicago and is now working at the beef looking for a sou, she’s intrigued.

Syds outside of the beef, getting ready to go in as she smells something she recognized when visiting that restaurant in New York all those years ago

Let’s make it like he’s a reincarnation of a reincarnation from a person she’s met throughout her immortal life

A hint of blood orange, tart and a bit sweet. Not too strong but just enough to entice her for her fangs to come out

Standing face to face with Carmen Berzatto, the smell of his blood surrounds her and she gets hungry but she abruptly stops herself

Getting the job, Syd has to suppress her urges and confuse her thoughts that if what she’s feeling is a crush, admiration, or just pure instinct to taste his blood.

Or maybe all of the above?

But then she gets to see how he is while working with him then her anger and confusion arises. He’s not what she thought he was

He calls her too green

Her dish is just “not ready yet chef”

and yet she stays because she wants to improve the restaurant and make a difference to a small place.

Maybe even get to know him better, with the life he has right now

No- Not staying just for him, that be absurd and too weird. Right?

She finally quits but still has lingering feelings and she thinks, “What if I just have a taste, then I can leave and it’ll all be over I’ll be done with him and that restaurant. I don’t have to stay.”

She’s traveled all over the world and yet this one dingy place with this blue eyed mam keeps her here tethered

But does she hate it?

“Why? Why him?”

Looking at him and smelling the hint of blood oranges hits her and she’s hooked again, she came to collect her check but she stayed yet again for him

Sprinkle a lil bit of inner turmoil, with the restaurant renovations and Claire situation. Ya know, angst

And how bout him finding out she is a vampire at the end of S2 after friends and family.

Syd gets really weak after service, throwing up and getting her vampire urges

Desperate, she turns to Carmy since he’s the only one left after being freed from the freezer

“I NEED YOUR FUCKING BLOOD CARMY.”

Finally when she takes a bite, it’s literally life changing, life ALTERING like she can’t get enough and doesn’t think she’ll ever get this again so she savors as much as she can take

Secretly also he likes it, he finally feels calm and things go quiet while feeling safe in her arms

This is where spice ensues, cause he takes her back to his apartment to feed more

Once she wakes up the next morning, the bed is a bit of a mess, blood dry on her lips and chest

But there’s no Carmy

She cleans up and heads straight to the bear, and there he is, with dishes in front of him and a cold demeanor

His aura is completely changed

For S3 they make a little deal between eachother.

Carm is her blood bank and he willingly complies as long as she pushes him and he can push her for the restaurant

He thinks this’ll be the chance for him and syd to finally connect better in a weird fucked up way

While also simultaneously being sort of robotic and detached like he sorta was in S3

Also another way for her to stay with him for as long as she’ll have him

More drama ensues etc. idk I’m not good with writing but it was fun silly idea to get into the Halloween spirit!

[xxsquiddkiddxx]

~John Bender x Reader (in the form of "headcanons")~

Relationship type: Mostly Platonic (breifly romantic), Strangers to Friends to Lovers

Content Warnings: Fem Y/N, Swearing, John being a lil bit of a douche.

(I took some inspiration from the outtakes of the movie... and if you've never watched them? You should. They're HILARIOUS.)

Y'all definitely met in detention. You were brought in for some stupid reason, like accidentally back-sassing a substitute teacher or something like that.

He first got your attention in detention (hehe I rhymed) by blabbering nonsense in a ridiculous tone, to the point of screaming "AHH" over and over. You end up slowly turning to tell him to shut up. His response?

"Take a photo, it'll last longer, sweets."

If you think he made fun of you.... You're 100% right. He RELENTLESSLY made fun of you. Like... that shit brought you to tears at one point.

He felt like an asshole afterwards though. After you're done crying and you ignore him for an hour or so, he did apologize... in the most John Bender like fashion: punching your shoulder lightly and mumbling a "sorry".

Near the end of detention, you two look at each other and pretty much tell one another that y'all would never be friends out of that library. It was pretty much a mutual agreement that you two would NEVER interact again, even if you had mutual friends.

Months later, you're invited to a party by Claire. She's been a friend of yours for a few years now, and she, and I quote, told you: "You need to get your ass out of the house and actually talk to people."

You didn't WANT to... but you did.

She gave you the location and the time, pretty much making it so you hs no choice but TO go to this stupid party. But eh, you'd probably chill for a few, then bounce.

You didn't get 20 steps in when- what do you know? Guess who was leaning against the wall, cigarette resting in his mouth as he fished around in his pocket for a lighter?

John-Fucking-Bender.

You try your best to stay out of his gaze. Staying at least 20 feet away from where he was. Pretty much hoping and praying to whatever God was out there that Bender didn't see you.

Yeah he saw you.

He surprisingly talked to you, mostly small talk. But then y'all talk more and more and more and suddenly you both are so deep in conversation that you hardly notice the lack of people around you two.

So maybe you two were able to be friends :)

When the next school day hit, a lot of people were shocked to see you two in the hallways together, laughing about a joke that he'd made.

A lot of people thought y'all were dating.

When I say "thought", I mean "they pretty much assumed and spread it around the whole school."

You had to fight dating allegations for MONTHS on end. It was always "No, we're not dating." "No, I don't have feelings for Bender."

Chat, you're a LIAR.

You were starting to have feelings, but you weren't gonna talk about it of course. Talking about FEELINGS? Fuckin weird, man.

The same was on his end. He wasn't gonna say NUTHIN. He literally was head over heels for you, but the day he admits that is the day he regurgitates a shoe and bakes it in the oven.

He confessed first... in an argument.

He started to distance himself a little bit from you. I mean, come on, John Bender? In a RELATIONSHIP? Get fuckin' real.

This goes on for about a month until you finally confront him about it. Like the premise of the whole argument was a span of:

"Why are you avoiding me?"

"Cuz."

"Cuz why? Do you hate me or something?"

"Cuz."

Then y'all squabble more and more until he finally cracks and says he's avoiding you cuz he wants this stupid feeling to go away.

You have a heart-to-heart chat with one another and end up getting into a relationship.

You two agree to start slow, not really telling anyone and just staying friends to the public eye. Nothing too fast.

Yeah, that lasted like 2 hours.

It wasn't nessicarily John's fault. The dude trying to flirt with you just happened to have his face in the way of where John's fist wanted to be.

Take a wild guess who ended up in detention that Saturday?

Yep, he did.

A/N: I haven't actually written fanfiction in YEARS. The sad lack of John fanfiction made me finally come back XDDDDD It's dogwater and I wrote it in an Applebee's. Have this ig

~Squeed

[thoughtfulchaos773]

I got something else to ask about this look. I saw a comment that it's carmy starting to notice the pattern of her scarf- he looks up a bit - fixated on her then moves his eyes. Like he's so close to figuring it out? I can sorta see it and it brings up a quick rant.

Would it really be far-fetched that Carmy made the sauce inspired by Sydney- like expressing his love for her through this?

Carmy didn't just make a sauce inspired by Sydney’s scarf but from watching her wear different polka dots throughout the month, starting with that dress at Marcus' mom's funeral. This is the same guy who noticed Tina dressing like Syd, who spotted her Thome Browne shirt, notice her sailor moon outfit and had to express he's taking her in, and got her a jacket from the same designer—in the perfect size, no less.

Marcus even foreshadows this by saying he and his mother would pay attention without words. Carmy is paying attention to Sydney, but he does it from a distance. Why? Because Carmy is bizarre like that—his words fall short, he’s shy, artsy, and just a weird little dude, as Tiffany and Richie say and -

Sidebar: I trust Tiffany and Richie's judgment, although it is harsh. They’re observant and can notice dysfunction (though Richie helplessly participates at times). They see traits they don't want to pass on to Eva. They know Carmy's issues stem from his mom, so when they call him weird, it’s more of a bit of confusion. Carmy made her sprite, and it surprises Tiffany and Richie. This gesture is unexpected.

In the same episode, Stevie mentions that bears are both aggressive and kind. That’s Carmy in a nutshell. This is why Tiffany is confused about why Richie would set Claire up with Carmy because she’s so nice, and he’s, well, complicated.

This man spent all of high school being shy and just making detailed drawings of Claire!

Thanks for coming to my TED Talk. Carmy has always been shy and has trouble communicating his feelings. He expresses himself through food and art. This has been confirmed multiple times, yet some people find it far-fetched to see this as Carmy's way of processing his feelings for Sydney.

[ponett]

(SLARPG spoilers) Was the final Javis fight big enough that people in Greenridge could see it or did they just hear about it from Jodie and Claire and Faith? What I want to believe is that Allison could spare a little bit of magic to make TRANS//FORM diagetic and everyone heard it.

Most people in Greenridge generally weren't aware of the specifics of what happened. The final battle was pretty far from town, and it also happened late at night when most people were asleep. Anyone looking would notice weird shit happening on the mountain followed by a big flash of light and a series of smaller flashes from spells being flung around, but anyone not looking outside probably just thought it was a bad thunderstorm

However, that is definitely something Allison would do. I like that headcanon