#I’ll keep it short for now but one of these days. or possibly tonight

[soullessjack]

sorry but the idea that jack can’t handle scary things is just so. What show are you fucking watching. jack isn’t shaking like a leaf or covering his face with a blanket when something mildly spooky happens on tv. he’s in the backseat making shrunken heads kiss and chanting “road trip” when they go to hell or investigate some abandoned building full of ritual kill corpses. he’s like dipper and mabel pines fused into a single silly monster-obsessed-dork entity

[atrwriting]

thinking about stripper reader with old man logan.

he came in every week or so — disheveled outfit and hair. he was older, sure — but not in the way most men his age looked. no — the years didn’t wear on him, but whatever he did that day did. his wrinkles weren’t deep, but the bags under his eyes were. his smile lines weren’t permanent, but the distant look in his eyes was. his bones didn’t crack because they were old, but because they were under too much stress. you couldn’t help it — you wanted to take that pain away.

no one wanted to approach him because he seemed to keep to himself — worried he was a creep or something. he was quiet, too — only speaking when he ordered a drink or another after that. he replied in nods or shakes of the head, and his eyes were always on the stage. despite the fact that he tipped well — no one bit.

you were feeling brave that day when you approached him. you kept it simple — black lace teddy, black lace thong, and black heels. hair bouncy with light makeup, hoping to keep the star of the show your eyes and smile. you knew he could see you out of the corner of his eye, and it threatened your confidence — but he had peaked your interest for too long for you to toss and stumble now.

“hey, handsome,” you spoke, keeping your tone light. “need another?”

he didn’t cock his head towards you, keeping his gaze in front. he swirled the small sip of whisky left in his glass, appearing to contemplate your question. after a moment, he responded, “dancers don’t take drink orders, darlin’.”

“no,” you spoke, laughing slightly. you bent at the hips, hoping to be lower than his eye line. “but they don’t when they give private dances — interested?”

“no, thanks.”

his voice was final — and even though you were disappointed, you didn’t want to push it. you stood then, taking a step back. “okay — i’ll send a waitress over.”

after working the room — it was your turn to take one of the side stages. you had your pick of which — but you decided to keep it as far away from the man as possible. if he didn’t want to be bothered, who were you to threaten a good tip? curiosity would not be killing the cat tonight — especially not when there was more money to be made.

a few men had gathered during your set, throwing a few dollar bills here and there as you swung your hips to the music. you had switched into a falls cowboys cheerleader outfit — white shorts, blue top, and white bra. cliche and overdone, but by the look of your tips — you couldn’t care less.

you also couldn’t care less when you noticed a set of eyes on you — the man’s.

he was unashamed in the way he stared at you. he had gotten another round at some point — but wasn’t drinking any of the contents. he simply gripped it tight as he stared at your swaying hips and perfect curves. you bit your lip at the thought of him regretting turning you away, the confidence intoxicating you. before the song ended, you made sure to lock eyes with him — letting you know that this was your stage and your body he was silently and secretly drooling over. when you sent a cheeky wink his way, he shook his head — downing his glass in an instant. you smiled when he stood from his seat, immediately darting for the “vip” lounge in the back that proudly boasted a sign that read “private dances.”

when you made your way into the back room, you were told that a certain someone had specially asked for you. once you made your way back there, you found what you were looking for.

“make me feel young again, darlin’.”

you couldn’t help but smile. he didn’t say it in an insecure way, but in a way that suggested that his day had been too long and too tiring.

“tell me how you like it?”

he didn’t say anything — he just watched you. his eyes never left yours as you flung off your top, exposing your breasts. he drank his entire glass of whisky before you had planted yourself on his thighs. the flesh of your ass was like to pillows, fit for his large hands. he didn’t touch you — but by how hard he gulped, you could tell he wanted to.

“touch me, sugar,” you whispered. “i won’t tell.”

there was hesitation in his eyes, but soon his gaze darkened. restraint had fallen through the cracks, gone and forgotten. was a shame he had already paid for the dance — you would’ve fucked him for free.

now it was time to make it worth his while.

the man beneath you ground your round hips down into his pelvis, groaning at the friction. he hadn’t seen peace or pleasure since never, but it held his facial feature hostage as his nostrils picked up on the scent of your arousal. warm, tangy juices that leaked through the lace in your panties onto the denim of his jeans.

“take off your pants,” you breathed. “i’ll remind you how young you are — if you promise you’ll show me the skill that only comes with age.”

he had you bent over the table, hands behind your back held by his belt. he planted two heavy feet next to each of your ankles, keeping your legs spread and ready for him. his thrusts were hard against the back of your hips as you only had the table’s edge to support you. you felt him repeatedly hit your cervix, wincing at the aggression.

“that’s not the spot, huh, darlin’?” he spat.

you stayed silent — wanting to see how he reacted.

“i can feel it — resistance,” he grunted. “that sweet pussy needs more, doesn’t she?”

his hard, calloused hands rotated your hips so the tip of his cock repeatedly began to smack into the softest and gummiest part of your inner walls. a moan ripped through you like no other — your back arching upwards as your hips desperately tried to meet his thrusts.

“there it is — that’s it, darlin’. come on, fight back.” you could feel the rough skin of his finger tips dig up and into your pelvis, welcoming the pressure. one of his hands moved underneath you — hauling your hips upwards — pressing against your lower abdomen. he could feel the outline of his cock fucking into your womb, stuffing you full. “i can feel how deep you’re takin’ it, darlin’ — pussy so greedy, ain’t she? — always wantin’ more? those young boys just ain’ it? i’ll take care of her, darlin’…”

you were a whining mess beneath him — practically incoherent. he could hear, smell, feel, taste everything you were feeling. he had every part of you in his hands — completely vulnerable to his mercy and touch. and when your hips started to shake — fighting with him and against him — all he could do was force them down as you took his cock. you whined and whine and whinedwhinedwhined for more until the glam makeup began to melt off your face.

the man watched as your body shook for him — him and only him. you found his wrist, holding onto it for dear life as you tired to anchor yourself. the pleasure was too much, causing your head to spin. you could feel the man rub the skin of your ass tenderly, coaxing you into your orgasm. your womb bloomed for him, wanting to suck him dry and never let him go. his groans were animalistic, filling the room as you begged him to fill your pussy. he smacked your ass once, twice, thrice before he pulled out and painted your back with his cum.

once he pulled out, you were still on your stomach on the table as you tried to catch your breath. he bent down to meet your eyes — a youthful glow on his face — before he pressed a kiss to your lips.

“you just ruined men my own age for me.”

“get your things, doll — takin’ you away from here.”

———

depravity - L xoxo lmk what u think ;)

[monstersflashlight]

Day 17. Monster-kinktober: Full moon + Swallowing/Cock Warming

A/N: Inspired by this post by @davinawritings. Also sorry (not sorry) because I feel like this is the 4th werewolf this month but I just fucking love werewolves. Enjoy!

Werewolf x fem!reader || cock-warming, teasing, oral sex, (lowkey) dirty talk

Your boyfriend usually had an incredible stamina, but full moon fucks were out of this world. You always ended up exhausted and so fucked out you couldn’t sit properly for the next couple days. Thanks the goddess it only happened once a month or you’d be fucked… in a bad way (and in a good way).

That’s why you don’t act surprised when he appears in the door of your home office, a huge erection in his gray sweats and the biggest smile on his lips. He looks obscene like that, your wettest of dreams… and he’s all yours.

“You know I need to prep you so you are ready for the full moon tonight,” he offers as an explanation for his sudden appearance.

“I know you do, but I can’t do it right now, I have work!” You try to argue, just for him to walk to you and pull you off your chair, sitting there himself and then sitting you back onto his lap.

You are still facing the computer, but the cock under your hot center is so hard and tempting that you can’t avoid rolling your hips to create a bit of friction. You groan and curse him for chuckling.

“See? Now you can do both,” he smiles and kisses your neck as you try to focus your attention back to the screen.

His hands pull your legs apart as he starts rubbing your clit slowly over your pants. You try to focus on your work, but you are completely unable to read a single line on the email because he’s so distracting. It’s not your fault that dating a werewolf has turned you into a desperate mess every time his dick was involved. He shouldn’t be so good at it if he wanted you to be normal about it.

“You are distracting me!” He chuckles but doesn’t stop, his fingers pressing hard against your clit through the fabric, so good, but not nearly enough. “Ugh, fine. Let me take the pants off first at least, I don’t want them ripped open like last time.” You tell him, your hand stopping his when he tries to open your pants to slip his hand inside.

He laughs at your acceptance, caressing your ass as soon as you uncover it. Your tiny thong doesn’t get the best of treatments, being ripped away in one fast movement before you can take it off. Fucking wolves.

He keeps moving his hand in the way that drives you completely insane, his fingers probing and touching, rubbing and fingering… You are dripping wet around his hand and trying to respond to the damn email. He doesn’t say anything, but he starts breathing harder and harder behind you, his hips pushing up in tiny thrusts that tease you with the promise of a good dicking.

“I need to work,” you remind him, frustrated in every way possible. Especially sexually.

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll stop. Let me just…” You hear the sound of a zipper being pulled down, and then something pressing against your pussy.

“Don’t you-” Your phrase is cut short when he pushes his dick inside your wet heat and you groan. “Fuck, okay, but don’t move, I need to work.” You remind him, again.

You’ve played cock-warming before, he loves to feel you stretched around him, and loves even more when you fall asleep with him inside of you, so he can fuck you as soon as he wakes up. The little somno fantasy was one of yours, but he indulges in it more than enough.

He kisses your neck tenderly. “Okay, honey, I’ll be quiet and still. Do your thing.”

But he’s neither quiet or still. He moves his hips in tiny circles, he “accidentally” rubs your clit with his thumb with the excuse of readjusting your hips for more comfort. He caresses the insides of your thighs until you are panting, his dick buried inside of you.

When you let out a groan, he chuckles, his finger instantly finding your clit and rubbing it until you are coming apart over him. He doesn’t come, he doesn’t say anything. He just stays inside of you as you try to re-focus on the work.

It takes you twice the amount of time as it should to answer all the emails. You know you won’t be able to focus anymore with him there, especially being a full moon. Without saying anything, you stand up before him, his dick still hard as you turn and look down at him. He looks wild, his eyes unfocused and his dick leaking profusely. He’s feral in the prettiest way possible.

He looks at you with reverence. “Please, please, please, honey… I need, I need…” He doesn’t get to finish his phrase, your brain already knowing exactly what he needs. Your pussy is not ready, but you have other perfectly fine holes, and his dick always tastes better when he’s been inside of you anyway.

You fall to your knees in front of him and smile at his leaking cock, your lips coming around his tip instantly. His hips move imperceptibly under you, trying to remain as still as possible as you suck him slowly, drawing his pleasure until he has tears in his eyes and you feel like a goddess. He doesn’t say anything, tries to remain in his best behaviour as you swallow around him, making him moan your name in a filthy way.

“Do you… Can I? Are you gonna swallow, honey?” He asks.

You nod around his shaft, your hand squeezing on his knot as he cries out over your head and spills his seed deep in your throat, making you choke slightly and pull out. It always amazes you how much he can come during the full moon. He ends up coming all over your chin and tits, making a mess out of you (like always).

“Fuck, you look indecent like that,” he says in the most broken way he can muster. You smile, your tongue darting out to lick some of his come out of your lower lip. He groans and picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder and walking you to the bed, his dick hard once again.

Full moon days are awesome.

(You don’t get to go out and run under the full moon because by that time, your pussy is already overflowing with his seed and you are so exhausted you pass out… with his cock still inside of you.)

[itsthewritergal]

don't tell Bucky - B.Barnes x reader

Summary: Reader is broke and refuses to tell mob!bucky the extend of it

TW: fluff, happy ending, little swears, mention of money, getting fired, (think that's everything)

ENJOY!!

:)

Y/N was used to the biting cold in her apartment, it had been a long few months with her hours being cut down and bills piling up she was in debt. Badly. She had started cutting costs where possible, heating was the first to go, she had opted for  not turning the heating on despite the freezing temperatures outside, food was the second thing to go, she had starting making meals stretch and eating less and slowly things seemed a little more manageable. The bills continued to pile up, yet things seemed a little easier. Every single penny was put to the side to clear her debt. She had been seeing Bucky as much as possible but she couldn’t talk to him about it, he would just offer to pay her debt off and then she’d owe him for almost the rest of her life. She couldn’t ask him. She wouldn’t. Bucky had picked her up from work, it was a surprise, and something Y/N was grateful for as she wouldn’t have to pay for the bus home. 

“Do you want to stay at mine tonight?” Bucky asked gently pressing a kiss to her cheek as they finished their heavy make-out session in the car 

“I’ve got work in the morning,” She said softly, breath slipping through her lips 

“Call in sick” Bucky said between kisses “You can go without one shift can’t you?” Bucky asked 

“We’re short staffed Buck, I need to be there” She lied easily, 

“Let me come in? I just want to hold you tonight” He said softly pressing another kiss to her lips. Y/N nodded in agreement, how could she ever say no to an offer like that? 

Bucky followed Y/N up the stairs to her apartment, she unlocked the door and was met by an icy breeze. Bucky shuddered. 

“Why is it so cold baby? Your heating broken?” He asked 

“Hmm?” Y/N asked turning around to face him 

“Your apartment Y/N, it’s cold” 

“Oh, sorry Buck I turned the heating off” 

“For good?” Bucky asked closing the door behind him “Or is it broken?” He asked

“Oh, no I just turned it off whilst I was at work” Y/N said softly, 

“Why would you do that?” Bucky asked again pulling Y/N into an embrace 

“It was just while I went to work Buck”

“That’s not safe doll, you should keep the heating on so you don’t get ill, even when you’re not home. You need to come into a warm house” Bucky said, Y/N resisted the urge to cry. 

“I usually do Bucky, it was just a one off” she said. 

Bucky didn’t mention the heating again that night. Y/N was grateful for that small mercy. What he did mention was the mountain of blankets that sat on her bed. 

“Doll?” He called from her bedroom 

“Yeah?” She replied coming into the bedroom, her eyes falling on Bucky’s metal hand clasping three blankets, 

“You coming down with something?” He asked “I can call Banner to come and check on you if you want?” 

“Oh Buck, no I’m ok. Just get cold when you’re not here” She said, it wasn’t a complete lie, just a small one. It made her feel a little better. 

“You know you could just move in with me?” Bucky offered 

“Don’t be silly Bucky, we’ve spoken about this” She said and Bucky stopped himself from starting an argument by pressing his lips to hers. 

— — — 

The next few weeks were tricky. Y/N had started picking up more shifts than she could count which lessened her time to do anything; most of all see Bucky. 

When one fateful day put Y/N’s life into a tailspin, 

“Y/N could you come into my office when you get a moment please?” Her boss’s voice cut through the noise, and Y/N felt a panic run through her body, 

“I’ll come now” She said quickly, hurrying behind the shorter lady, “is everything ok?” 

“Take a seat Y/N” She said, Y/N knew this wasn’t good, she never asked her to take a seat before, this had got to be bad news. 

“Have I done something wrong?” 

“No, Y/N you’re one of the best workers we have here” She said taking a deep breath “but we can’t afford to keep you on, with prices and wages going up we’re cutting down to less staff members and well it’s only fair that we let you go first. You’ve got enough experience to get another job quickly whereas the others don’t” 

“You mean the others are cheaper because they are younger?” Y/N said noticing the true meaning behind her words. 

“That isn’t what we are doing Y/N” her boss spoke halfheartedly 

“When do I leave?” Y/N asked dejectedly, knowing it was a loosing battle 

“Today’s your last shift, you are let go without holiday pay or leave notice” She said passing Y/N an envelope “All the necessary documents are in here, please hand your keys in at the end of the shift” 

“No need to wait” Y/N said, pulling her work keys out her bag and putting them on the desk. Picking up the envelope, Y/N walked out. 

The walk home was a cold one, not only because of the biting wind but Y/N felt empty, numb, like she’d just been caught in the rain. She wanted to call Bucky, but after her neglect of him she knew that he was probably mad at her and calling him to cry would not be the best way to go. However, her ringtone cut Y/N’s moping thoughts short, 

“Hello?” 

“Doll, oh thank god. Steve just told me he passed you on the street, he’s turning around to pick you up so don’t go anywhere. What’s happened?” Bucky asked 

“Nothing Buck, I’ll talk to you later, tell Steve not to worry” 

“No, he’s picking you up and you can come here or go home then come here, or just head home if that’s what you want but I’d rather Steve did it than you walk yourself doll okay?” He said 

“It’s going to happened whatever I say right?” Y/N chuckled halfheartedly, the lack of reply on Bucky’s end confirmed it “I’ll wait for Steve” 

“Good girl, I’ll see you soon” He said ending the call quickly. 

As if on cue Steve’s car pulled into view, 

“Hey Y/N, Buck’s waiting for you” He said opening the door for her, 

“Thanks Steve” 

After a few quiet minutes Y/N answered the question which was burning in Steve's mind, 

“I got fired” She said quietly, 

“They did what? Oh Buck won’t be happy, how dare they” Steve said forcefully, 

“They can’t afford me apparently” Y/N chuckled sadly 

“Bullshit” 

“Promise you won’t tell Bucky?” She asked 

“I won’t lie to him if he asks” Steve said “But I’ll divert attention so he doesn’t ask” Steve agreed quietly 

— — — — — 

Y/N had avoided Bucky for another two weeks, she hadn’t meant to. But she had been sending CV’s, babysitting, dog walking and selling small handmade bits online. Anything possible to make some money, she was yet to receive an interview or even any interest. It seemed that everyone was full of employees or was hiring younger staff, there was no place for Y/N. 

She had been dodging her landlord phone calls, and the electricity company and even a few others who she knew were angry that she hadn’t paid. Stretching her legs out wide on the floor she took a minute away from her laptop screen and picked up her phone. 

“I’m on my way, be there in 15” Bucky had texted around 15 minutes ago, Y/N let out a panicked sigh and started picking up the mess around her to try and make herself look presentable for Bucky, she had to keep up appearances. 

“Doll?” Bucky called through her apartment, 

“In here” She replied quickly shoving some dirty clothes at the bottom of her wardrobe, 

“Hey doll” He said softly pulling her in for a kiss, not seeming to notice her dishevelled state. 

“Hey Bucky” she pressed a kiss to his lips, something she had missed dearly. 

“I need to talk to you” Bucky said pulling her down to sit on the bed, she sat down with his hands gripped in hers as if he was about to disappear. 

“I know I’ve been awful Buck, I haven’t spoken to you and I’ve avoided you, please don’t be mad, I’ve just been so stressed and—”

Bucky quickly cut her off “I’m not breaking up with you Y/N” 

“You’re not?” 

“No, doll I’m not” 

“Oh” 

“I know what’s going on Y/N” he said sincerely 

“Nothing’s going on” 

“Doll I know” 

“Bucky nothing is going on”

“You got fired, you’ve been trying to find another job, you’ve been dog walking, which I’m not happy with because that’s dangerous when you don’t know the dog or the owner, and you’ve been selling your adorably little crochet animals online” Bucky said 

“You got someone to follow me” 

“You started shutting me out” Bucky justified 

“Fair enough” 

“Did I miss anything?” Bucky asked 

“No” Y/N said her eyes welling up with tears, she let go on Bucky’s hand to hide her face in them, 

“Oh doll, come here” Bucky said wrapping his arms around her, letting her cry all her stresses and troubles away onto his shirt, he knew once she had cried they would be able to talk through options properly. 

“I’m sorry” Y/N said with a sniffle 

“Can I finish what I was saying earlier?” Bucky asked, Y/N nodded silently “I’ve paid off all your debts, I did the landlord, electricity, water and that loan you took out, you can pay me back if you want to if you have the money, if not it’s my birthday present to you I know you won’t accept it any other way” He said 

“Bucky please”

“It’s already done” 

“I should be able to do this better,I  should be able to pay my fucking bills” 

“No” Bucky said calmly 

“No?” 

“No you’re not doing that. You are doing as best as you can. And I refuse to listen to that shit. Now put on a nice dress, we’re going out to eat” 

— — — — 

That night when Bucky and Y/N were laying in bed cuddled up to each other, Y/N decided to be brave 

“Bucky?” 

“Yes doll?” 

“Do you think I could move in with you?” She asked pressing a kiss to his chest “I don’t think I want to do this alone anymore” 

“Doll, I’d be delighted” 

[froggibus]

Finders, Keepers - slasher!Jason Todd

Pairing: slasher! Jason Todd x f! Reader (reader uses f pronouns & has a pussy)

Genre: smut/NSFW

Word Count: 2k

Summary: as you feel his knife pressing into your skin, you look up at him through teary eyes. “I’ll do anything to live,” you say, but Jason intends to make you deliver on that promise.

CW: (Tagging this as possible noncon because you get held at knifepoint and fuck him so he doesn’t kill you, but eventually get into it) dubcon, maybe noncon? , knifeplay, reader gets held by knifepoint, serial killer! jason todd, stalking/chasing, oral (m! receiving), face fucking, fingering, finger sucking, cervix fucking, size difference, unprotected sex, creampie, kinda yandere themes?

day 2!! we are still going strong lol. absolutely love the idea of Jason Todd being a slasher, I kinda went for a cross between Michael Myers, Ghostface and Jason Voorhees here. anyway, hope you guys enjoy :)

Kinktober Masterlist

You dive and roll behind the marble countertop, covering your mouth to hide your teetering breath. Your ribcage aches with every beat of your heart, the pounding so loud you swear you can hear it echoing. You only pray he doesn’t notice.

Thick bootsteps fill the room, a menacing rhythm of rubber on hardwood. Each step is slow and sturdy as he approaches your hiding spot. He’s playing games with you, the thrill of the hunt almost as good as the kill itself. You only hope that you won’t be his latest victim.

You see the tip of his boot round the corner and suddenly your time has run out. You spring to your feet, catching a glimpse of your terrified features in the shiny red metal of his helmet before sprinting as fast as you can to the back door. You throw the glass door open so hard you swear it cracks, but you don’t have time to worry about property damage. Not tonight.

As soon as your slippers meet the grass, you’re tearing through the lawn and towards the woods. You can hear his thick footsteps behind you, but it doesn’t sound like he’s running. He never runs. The whole time he’s chased you has felt like one big taunt, like he’s getting off on your fear.

You almost sigh in relief when you make it past the property line and into the thick woods. You duck behind a thick oak tree, glancing over your shoulder to see if he’s still there. Your tensed muscles relax when you don’t see him anywhere. You must have lost him.

You wait behind the tree for what feels like hours before you hesitantly crawl out, attempting to find your way out of the forest and back to society. Back to help. 

But it’s dark and the moon is hidden behind clouds, and you must have dropped your phone somewhere in the chase. All of the trees look the same and you can’t seem to remember where you came from. 

Your shoulders slump when you look to the dark path ahead. There’s no way out, at least not until daylight when you’ll be able to see better. But that still leaves six hours of you hiding in the woods from a psycho killer hellbent on sinking his blade into you. 

You cast your eyes down to your bare legs and slippers. You’d been sleeping before this, wearing only your pyjama shorts and a giant t-shirt. Even if you can wait him out until daylight, you’ll freeze to death first.

You turn around and walk straight into a tree. No, not a tree. Horror dons on you as you realize you’ve walked into a six foot wall of muscle and leather. You have no time to react before his arm grabs your waist and holds you against his muscled chest, his blade resting on your throat like a promise.

“P-please!” You cry out, trying to stay perfectly still. The sharp metal is just barely grazing your throat for now, but you know any sudden movement could change that.

He doesn’t answer, but you can hear his breathing through that damned mask. It’s fast and strained, and his chest rises and falls in time with it. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to picture good memories, try to picture that you’re anywhere but here. 

He keeps his strong grip on you, keeps his knife at the base of your neck. He can practically smell your fear, and it’s fucking intoxicating. Your heart is racing, all of your muscles tremble in his arms. He’s been following you for a while now but he never thought you would put up this much of a fight.

God, it’s going to feel so good to take your life.

He starts to press the blade into your neck and you cry out. Not quite a scream, or at least not a scream of terror. It’s more of a strangled whine, but it has him stopping in his tracks.

“Please,” you whine again. “Please don’t, please! I’ll do anything, please.”

He listens to you whimper, the sounds like music to his ears. He can’t count the amount of times you’ve said please, but he keeps his knife off your throat for the time being. He wants to see just how long you’ll beg him not to take your life.

“I mean it! I’ll do anything,” you can barely breathe, every inhale short and strangled. “Say the word! But please, please don’t kill me.”

You can’t tell if he’s listening to you or if what you’re saying even makes sense at this point. All you can focus on is the knife in his hand and the arm around your waist. Your words start to sound strange even to you, the word please losing all of its meaning.

Jason loves the way you squirm in his arms and plead for your life, and fuck, you look so cute doing it. He wants to sink his knife into you, wants to feel your skin break apart at his touch, but he’s starting to think he can split you open a different way. 

He cuts off your pleads by shoving you to your knees on the ground. He twists his knife so that it rests on the back of your neck, the tip of the blade threatening to plunge into you if you don’t do a good job.

You stay perfectly still, looking up at him with teary and confused eyes. Is this it? Is he going to kill you now? You can’t tell. You watch his every move, every tensing of his muscles, just waiting for him to kill you. 

The hand that isn’t holding the knife reaches up to his belt buckle and suddenly you hear the clatter of the metal on the forest floor. You tilt your head in confusion, watching as his thick fingers tug open his zipper and release his cock.

Despite the cold night air, you feel impossibly warm at the sight of his hard length. Does he…is he expecting you to suck it? After all, you did say you would do anything to survive.

When you don’t make a move, he prods the knife into your skin just enough to draw blood. That’s all it takes for you to lean forward and open your mouth, letting his tip glide across your tongue. The taste of salty precum floods your senses.

He puts his other hand on the top of your head, guiding you along his shaft. His cock is so big it stretches your jaw, and you’re sure you’ll be aching tomorrow. Better sore than dead, though. You keep your eyes closed and focus on the task at hand. It’s easy to forget that you’re on your knees in a forest being held at knife point when he has his cock in your mouth. 

You bob up and down, trying to take as much of him into your mouth as possible. He fills you up enough that you have to breathe through your nose and every thought you have is fucked away.

You’re so caught up on his cock that you don’t even realize you’ve started to bounce up and down, grinding your crotch into your leg. You only notice when you grow so wet that you’ve started to smear your own juices onto your skin. You steady your hips, hoping he didn’t notice how your body is reacting to him.

Of course he noticed, though. He can’t take his eyes off you from behind the mask. It’s intoxicating watching your cute little face strain around his big cock while you desperately hump your own leg. You’ve been so good using that pretty mouth, he thinks you deserve a treat.

You don’t protest when he grabs you by your hair and lifts you up, still keeping that blade pressed against the back of your neck. He releases you and lets you stumble forward onto a tree, bracing yourself against your hands. 

You try to keep perfectly still, but gasp when you feel the cool metal of the blade between your legs. He puts one hand on your hip to steady you, and uses the other to cut open the crotch of your pyjama shorts.

A thick, gloved finger slides into the opening of the fabric and starts to stroke your wet clit. You shiver from his touch and tighten your grip on the tree. He slides a finger into your soaking hole. You whine and move your hips back, trying to get him deeper.

He slides another finger inside of you, pumping only a few times before pulling both out. He reaches his hand around and shoves his slick coated fingers into your mouth. You gratefully accept them, sucking your own juices off of the leather.

His cock brushes your entrance and you brace yourself, closing your eyes in anticipation. He slides in slowly, splitting you open on his thick shaft. A moan forces its way past his fingers in your mouth when he bottoms out. He’s so big you can feel him everywhere, his cock pressing into your cervix.

He pulls out and slams back in, his movements making your whole body shift. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth and sets his hand on your hip, using it as momentum to drive you up and down his length. The hand holding the knife rests on your ass, the handle just barely touching you.

His thrusts are brutal. He pushes all the way in every time, before pulling out and slamming back in again. Your stomach aches from how good he’s fucking you, your legs starting to shake from how you’re standing. You were trying to keep the moans in at first, but he’s so big and so deep that you can’t help it. 

You can hear the squelching noise from your own pussy, feel your hot juices try to leak out whenever he pulls away only to be fucked into you again. You’re getting so close, so needy and desperate. You rock your hips back and forth the best you can, trying to meet his thrusts and get him even deeper. 

“I-I’m so close!” You cry out.

Jason hears your cries and lewd moans, feels the way you’re clenching around his cock. It’s almost unthinkable that you were begging for your life previously, and now you’re about to cum around his cock. He knew he made a good choice with you.

“Please,” you whine again. “Please, I need to cum, please! I’ll do anything, please.”

Your begging is like music to his ears, and suddenly he’s lifting up your leg and holding you up by your waist. This new angle lets him go deeper, the tip of his cock grinding against your cervix every time. It only takes a few more thrusts before you’re gushing around him, going limp in his arms.

Jason holds you up and continues fucking into you. You feel so good and tight around his cock, and he’s so close. He practically uses your body like a fleshlight, tossing you around anyway that makes him feel good. It’s not long before he’s cumming inside of you.

He pulls out, watching as his hot cum runs out of your ruined pussy and down your sticky thighs. God, you’re a mess.

As you come down from your high, you suddenly remember the situation you're in. You press yourself against the tree, pulling your knees to your chest. He watches you, staring at you as you cower. A couple tears roll down your cheeks, though you’re not sure if they’re from fear or from pleasure.

Jason leans forwards and slowly wipes them away. Your hair is an absolute mess, your skin all sweaty and sticky, but you look so fucking cute like this. He tilts his head at you and smiles behind the mask.

Yeah, he thinks he’ll keep you.

[aisiedaisie]

hiiii ʚ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ɞ i just found your page this morning and read through your entire masterlist and i loveeee your writing! is it possible to get royal poly!marauders at a ball or something and they catch sight of the reader (can be whatever role you wanna give them) and they are like 'damn'

Hello hello~!!!

First of all, thank you so much for patiently waiting for me to get to your request. Life has been pretty hectic on my end, so writing had to take a back seat for a little while. But today, I finally had some time to sit down and write!

Now, let me just say— this idea is absolutely amazing! I’m completely in love with royal and historical AUs, so there’s a good chance I’ll revisit this concept and or turn it into a series of drabbles. (Not that I’m particularly skilled at keeping things short!!!)

I really hope you enjoy my take on your idea 💖

edit: I got a bit carried away-

Pairing: Poly!Marauders x Fem!Reader WC: 3.7k

The night after the neighboring kingdom’s delegation arrives, the Griffyn Kingdom buzzes with anticipation. To honor their esteemed guests— especially the visiting princess —the King and Queen have announced a grand ball. This celebration is more than an act of hospitality; it is a shining declaration of unity, a glittering prelude to alliances and promises that will shape their shared future.

You find yourself standing in Princess Lily’s chambers, the soft glow of candlelight casting flickering shadows against the ornate walls.

 Before you, Lily examines herself in a floor-length mirror, her emerald-green gown a masterpiece of silk and embroidery. You and Mary fuss over the gathered fabric at her hips, smoothing it into place with careful precision.

“I can manage the rest,” Lily murmurs, her voice gentle but decisive. She steps away, gliding toward the gilded jewelry box on her dressing table. Its lid is open, revealing an array of jewels she brought for the journey— diamonds, emeralds, and sapphires glittering alongside an assortment of tiaras.

“You two should get ready as well,” she adds, her tone as light as the shimmering necklace she picks up, its facets catching the firelight.

You pause, caught off guard. “What?” The word escapes before you can stop yourself.

Normally, Marlene would stand guard in her knightly uniform, Mary would accompany Lily throughout the event, and you would remain behind— content to watch the festivities from a quiet corner of the castle, keeping a vigilant eye on the princess’s chambers.

“There’s no need for that tonight,” Mary says, her voice warm with reassurance. She steps forward, deftly fastening the diamond necklace around Lily’s neck. The glittering stones resting perfectly against the princess’s pale freckled skin. “We’re on excellent terms with the Potters. No one here will mean us harm.”

The words hang in the air, both an assurance and an invitation. Tonight is different, you realize. 

A diamond tiara rests atop Lily’s head, its intricate design sparkling like a constellation of stars nestled in her fiery red locks. She adjusts it briefly, her reflection regal and resplendent. “You rarely get a chance to enjoy yourself during visits like this,” she says softly, her tone kind but firm. “Go on, get ready.”

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips, touched by Lily’s thoughtfulness. Her generosity warms you in a way words could never fully express.

With her gentle urging, you retreat to your own room to prepare. A quick bath washes away the lingering weariness of the day, and you do your best to ready yourself for the night ahead.

Despite your efforts, a sense of inadequacy lingers. 

For such grand occasions, it’s expected that the lady's maids and companions are impeccably dressed, each carrying at least one formal gown for travels like these. 

You do have such a dress— a blush colored piece gifted to you by your mother when you first joined the palace as Lily’s lady’s maid.

The fabric clings just a little too tightly at the waist, its once flawless seams now strained from years of careful reuse. The soft blush color, though elegant, has faded slightly with time, its original vibrancy dulled by repeated wear. The bodice is adorned with modest embroidery— delicate vines and blossoms stitched in pale gold thread that catches the light just enough to hint at refinement. The skirt, while gracefully cut, feels heavier than you remember, its weight pulling at your movements as if to remind you of the weight of high society.

It was the best your family could afford when you first came to the palace— a gift from your mother, its fabric chosen to honor both simplicity and a touch of nobility. Back then, it had been a symbol of hope, a token of pride for a baroness’s daughter stepping into the royal household. 

Now, however, standing before the mirror, you can’t help but feel its inadequacy in the face of tonight’s grandeur.

Even so, you smooth the skirt with steady hands, letting your fingers trace the faint ridges of the embroidery. This night, you remind yourself, is not about the richness of your gown, but the confidence you bring and the memories you make. 

Perfection may elude you, but presence—your presence—is more than enough.

When you step back into Lily’s chambers, it’s clear everyone is ready to go. Lily, as expected, looks effortlessly regal in her emerald green dress, the rich color complementing her fiery red hair that cascades down her back in elegant waves. Mary, ever composed, is radiant in a soft yellow gown that perfectly flatters her figure, her dark hair neatly arranged in a low bun at the nape of her neck.

“You look darling,” Lily murmurs, stepping forward to gently brush a stray lock of hair from your forehead. Her touch is as light as her tone, her emerald eyes warm with affection.

You roll your eyes playfully, unable to suppress a grin. “Says the actual goddess standing before me.”

“Truly,” Mary chimes in, her voice sweet as she adjusts the clasp of your necklace, ensuring it sits perfectly centered. “You’ll be the belle of the ball.”

Before you can protest their kind words, a knock at the door interrupts the moment. Marlene peeks her head in, her light blonde hair swept back into a tidy low ponytail. “Ladies,” she announces with a bright grin, “it’s time to head down.”

Excitement ripples through the room as the evening’s promise beckons.

_____

You weren’t quite sure what to do once you stepped onto the crowded ballroom floor. Back home, state balls were familiar territory, their routines and customs etched into your memory. But here, in a foreign kingdom, uncertainty clouded your thoughts. 

Was the etiquette the same? 

Would it be seen as rude to linger by the walls, content to watch the swirl of color and movement before you?

Must you be drawn into the heart of the celebration?

Apparently so.

You stand near one of the grand marble pillars circling the ballroom, the cool stone a comforting anchor amidst the overwhelming splendor. A glass of white wine rests in your hand, a half-hearted shield against your unease. From the corner of your eye, you notice movement—a man approaching with easy confidence. His dark hair is tied into a loose, messy bun, strands slipping free to frame his sharp features. His attire marks him as a knight of the Griffyn Kingdom, though the smirk curling at his lips carries a roguish charm and confidence uncommon in most knights you’ve met.

“You must be part of the delegation,” he says, his voice smooth, his smirk deepening as his gray eyes fix on yours.

You hesitate, biting back the urge to fidget. He’s handsome, undeniably so, but you can’t quite place why he’s chosen to speak to you. With a soft sigh, you nod. “I am.”

“I thought so,” he replies, a playful lilt to his tone. “I remember seeing you earlier, standing just behind the little princess. So, why aren’t you out there, dancing?” He gestures toward the center of the room, where couples spin and sway beneath glittering chandeliers.

“I’m not particularly fond of dancing,” you say, your voice quieter than intended. It’s not entirely true, but you hope the excuse is convincing enough to deter him.

“Nonsense,” he says with a laugh, his hand extending toward you. “Anyone can see you want to. Prove me wrong, if you’d like.”

The invitation lingers between you, daring yet strangely kind.

You hesitate for just a moment, glancing at the glass in your hand before setting it down on the corner of the nearest table. Then, with a small breath of resolve, you place your hand in his. “Don’t get mad if my heels end up on your toes,” you quip, a touch of nervousness slipping into your tone.

“Trust me, I’m quite nimble. Dodging danger is part of the job,” he replies with an easy smirk, already guiding you toward the dance floor with a confidence that leaves little room for argument.

Normally, you might have countered with a quick remark of your own, but your mind is too distracted. The pounding of your heart fills your ears, drowning out coherent thought.

The lull in the music amplifies every other sound—the clack of your heels against the polished marble, the low hum of whispered voices as heads turn to watch you pass. The weight of their gazes burns into your skin, and your hands tremble slightly as the knight clears a path through the crowd, his presence commanding in a way that both unsettles and reassures you.

Other couples filter onto the dance floor as the musicians shuffle their sheet music, preparing for the next song. The murmurs of the room settle, anticipation hanging in the air.

“Well,” you manage, your voice soft as you cling to anything that might distract you from the dozens of eyes still following your every move, “it seems you’re rather popular.”

“What can I say?” he responds, a teasing lilt in his voice. “I am rather handsome.” The smirk that accompanies his words is maddeningly self-assured.

Before you can respond, his hand presses gently against the middle of your back, drawing you closer. His other hand takes yours in a firm yet careful clasp, guiding you into the proper frame with a natural grace that makes it seem effortless. You barely notice the band striking the first notes of the song, your attention fixed on the storm gray eyes studying you with something close to intrigue.

You set your hand clumsily on his shoulder, your fingers brushing the smooth fabric of his maroon jacket. He doesn’t seem to mind your hesitation, his movements assured and steady as he begins to lead you through a simple waltz.

To your relief, the steps come naturally, your body quickly attuning to the rhythm of the music and the gentle guidance of his lead.

“What’s your name?” he asks, his voice soft, nearly lost beneath the rising swell of the orchestra.

You glance up at him, your voice barely above a whisper as you give your name.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful lady,” he replies smoothly, his lips curving into a charming smile paired with a wink that, despite yourself, pulls a smile to your face.

“And you?” you counter, a touch of playfulness creeping into your tone. “Who might this oh-so-charming knight be standing before me?”

His eyes glint with amusement, their gray depths catching the light like polished steel. “Sirius,” he says simply, the name rolling off his tongue with a quiet confidence.

You nod thoughtfully, letting the music and his lead guide you effortlessly across the floor. “An attention grabbing star for an attention grabbing knight,” you muse aloud, a small smirk tugging at your lips. “Seems fitting, I suppose.”

His laugh is low and warm, the sound wrapping around you like the melody. “Well, I do strive to live up to my name.”

“I doubt you have any trouble with that,” you say, a soft smile playing on your lips as you hold his gaze.

The music begins to fade, the elegant notes giving way to the quiet hum of conversations around you. As the dance slows to a stop, you take a small step back, though his presence still lingers like the warmth of the ballroom’s golden glow.

“So much for not being a dancer,” he teases, his smirk as effortless as the steps he led you through.

You turn to him, unable to suppress your grin. “Maybe you were just that good of a lead,” you say sweetly, your voice light with sincerity. But before he can respond, you catch sight of Mary and Lily across the room.

“I ought to check in on my lady,” you add, inclining your head slightly. “Thank you for the dance, Sir Sirius—”

“Sirius,” he interrupts gently, his tone almost playful. “Just Sirius is fine.”

You nod, your smile softening as you take a small step back. “Fine, then. Thank you for the dance, Sirius. It was... unexpected, but I truly enjoyed it.”

With a final glance, you turn and make your way toward Mary and Lily, weaving through the gathered crowd. The warmth of his hand on yours still lingers faintly, and his name echoes in your thoughts like the fading strains of the music— a memory you suspect will stay with you far longer than the evening itself.

_____

James and Remus stepped out of the nearest sitting room, the faint hum of ballroom music echoing down the corridor. Remus, ever meticulous, adjusted James’s slightly askew collar, his fingers deftly hiding the newly formed love bites that marked the prince’s neck—evidence of their brief but heated absence.

“We need to get back before anyone notices,” James murmured, his voice low but tinged with amusement as he fixed his tousled hair.

Remus smirked. “We’re already late. Let’s hope Sirius hasn’t set the place on fire in our absence.”

But as they approached the ballroom’s grand entrance, what they saw made both men falter. There, on the dancefloor, Sirius Black was leading a woman in a waltz.

The sight itself was striking. Her blush colored dress stood out in gentle contrast against the bold, jewel toned gowns of the others swirling around her. The simplicity of her attire only seemed to magnify her elegance, and for once, Sirius appeared utterly focused, his usual roguishness tempered by something softer.

“Sirius never asks a woman to dance,” a sharp voice cut through the hum of the crowd. James and Remus glanced toward a cluster of women, their faces half hidden behind delicate feathered fans. The speaker, a haughty looking noblewoman, tilted her head knowingly, her words drawing murmurs of agreement from those around her.

Remus’s brows knit together. Sirius was notorious for politely but firmly declining the endless stream of invitations to dance he received at events like these. Yet, watching him now, Remus found he could understand why Sirius had sought out this particular partner.

She was... radiant.

“Well, isn’t she a sight to see,” James murmured, his voice just low enough for Remus to hear.

Remus nodded, his hazel eyes tracking the woman’s graceful movements. “If I’m not mistaken, she’s one of Princess Lily’s lady’s maids,” he said, his tone thoughtful.

James’s eyes widened slightly in recognition, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Is that so?” he drawled, the spark of an idea lighting his gaze.

Remus sighed, already sensing trouble. “What are you thinking, James?”

The prince’s grin only grew. “I think,” he said, “we should pay a visit to the princess. Seems like her lady’s maid could use some... royal introductions.”

_____

After reuniting with a gushing Mary and Lily, a server approaches, bowing their head politely before handing you a fresh glass of wine. You thank them quietly, though you can’t help but find their deference a little peculiar. Still, you accept the drink, shifting your attention back to the princess as she launches into a spirited account of your performance on the dance floor.

“You looked absolutely stunning out there,” Lily exclaims, her cheeks slightly flushed from the excitement of the evening—or perhaps the wine.

“She’s right,” Mary agrees with a hum, a bright smile lighting her face. “Everyone was watching. You two were the talk of the room.”

Both women had taken their turns dancing with high-ranking gentlemen throughout the night. Suitors vying for the honor of even a single waltz. Yet, they seemed convinced that your dance was the highlight.

“He’s quite a talented dancer for a knight,” Mary observes, taking a sip from her own glass.

You nod, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I figured he’d be good, considering how confident he seemed. But he led me effortlessly. I barely had to think about the steps.”

“Well,” Lily interjects with a soft laugh, her hand fluttering to her lips as though trying to stifle her amusement, “that’s hardly surprising. He’s a noble, after all.”

“What?” Both you and Mary turn to her in confusion, the notion catching you both off guard. Nobles rarely became knights, considering the station beneath them. Sirius hardly seemed the exception, yet here you were.

“He’s the son of Duchess Black,” Lily explains with a slight grimace, lowering her voice. “Her sons are far more tolerable than she ever will be.”

“Lily!” Mary scolds, her eyes darting around to ensure no one overheard the princess’s blunt critique. Fortunately, the surrounding hum of conversation seemed to swallow the comment whole.

“But...” you trail off, your brows furrowing as you ask. “Did you not just dance with the heir to the duchy?”

“That would be my younger brother,” a smooth, familiar voice cuts into the conversation, making you turn sharply.

Sirius stands behind you, his easy smirk firmly in place, though there’s a glimmer of amusement in his gray eyes. Heat rushes to your cheeks, and you instinctively dip your head in greeting, murmuring, “Sir Sirius.”

“Sirius,” he corrects lightly, his gaze softening as it lingers on you.

“Sirius,” you murmur, correcting yourself softly.

His smirk softens into something warmer. “You danced with Regulus, Your Highness?”

“Lily,” the princess corrects, her tone mirroring his own.

Sirius chuckles, his attention shifting to her. “Of course, Lily. So, you danced with Reg?”

“As I always do, Sirius,” she replies with a sigh, clearly anticipating where the conversation might lead. Her expression brightens, however, as her gaze lands beyond him. “Oh, James, Remus! A pleasure to see you.”

Both Mary and you instinctively bow your heads, mirroring Lily’s graceful greeting as two men approach.

“Leave the formalities for the elders,” James teases, waving his hand dismissively. “Raise your heads, ladies.”

James Potter is every bit the image of royalty, dressed in a pristine white suit adorned with a red sash. The high collar adds to his regal air, but it’s his confident posture and easy smile —so warm and almost boyish—that truly captivate.

Beside him stands a tall, broad shouldered man with tousled brown hair. The scars that trace his skin catch your eye briefly before you hastily return your attention to the prince, unwilling to appear rude. Yet, the man’s hazel gaze, calm and piercing, seems to notice everything.

“Are you all enjoying the ball?” James asks, his voice warm and smooth as his signature smile graces his lips.

Lily answers first, her response polite and poised as ever. Her agreement prompts Mary and you to nod along.

“Glad to hear it,” James replies, his smile widening. “I know Sirius was enjoying himself not too long ago,” he adds with a teasing lilt, his hand clapping Sirius on the shoulder and lingering there in a way that seems deliberate.

“It was one dance,” Sirius groans, tilting his head toward the prince in exasperation.

“One dance more than usual,” Remus chimes in, his deep, steady voice carrying a hint of humor. His hazel eyes flicker to Sirius, glinting with quiet amusement as he observes his discomfort.

James turns his gaze to you, his teasing grin softening into something gentler. “He didn’t step on your toes, did he, my lady?” he asks, the mock solemnity of his tone bringing a smile to your lips.

You shake your head, your amusement showing clearly. “Of course not.”

James bursts into laughter, the sound rich and full, drawing a few curious glances from those nearby.

“Having women cover for your clumsy footwork now— what a shame,” Remus adds, his tone dripping with mock disappointment as he shakes his head.

Sirius turns to you, lips curling into an exaggerated pout. “Now look what you’ve done. You’ve egged them on.”

You shrug, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Now, why would I do that, Sirius?”

“You’re killing me, doll,” he groans dramatically, prompting laughter to ripple through the small group.

The conversation shifts back to something closer to polite, though the teasing undercurrent remains. Mary moves subtly closer to you, her hand brushing comfortingly over your back. It’s then you notice the weight of the many gazes lingering on your group, a pressure you hadn’t fully realized until now.

Your eyes lower to the polished marble floor as you focus on listening to James and Lily’s easy banter, their words melding with the hum of the ballroom.

“You alright?” Remus’s voice pulls your attention. He steps closer, his question soft, laced with genuine concern.

You nod lightly. “It seems all of a sudden I’ve run out of energy,” you say, a polite fib. The truth is, this entire night has been draining, though you don’t want him to think he’s dull company. “I’m not used to parties like this,” you add quickly to clarify.

Remus’s lips curve into a smile, his expression warm and understanding. “We have lounges on the top floor for guests who need a break. You’d be welcome to rest there if you’d like.”

You shake your head gently. “I really shouldn’t, but thank you for the suggestion–”

“That’s a great idea,” Lily interjects with an encouraging smile. “Let’s rest our feet for a while.”

“I’ll let Marlene know we’re heading upstairs,” Mary offers before slipping away, likely toward one of the food tables where Marlene is undoubtedly stationed.

“We’ll escort you,” Sirius says smoothly, but Lily raises a hand, declining the offer with a polite smile.

“We’ll be fine on our own, but thank you,” she assures him.

“Of course,” James replies, bowing his head slightly.

Mary returns soon after, accompanied by Marlene, who carries a golden plate piled high with delicate finger foods.

“Enjoy your rest,” James says with a gracious nod, his tone sincere though his smile holds a trace of teasing warmth.

The women dip their heads in thanks before retreating upstairs to find a quiet lounge.

_____

As soon as they’re out of earshot, James turns to Sirius with a mischievous smirk. “Well, wasn’t she a sweetheart?” he asks, his teasing tone unmistakable.

“She’s polite but knows how to hold her own. I’d say you’ve chosen well, Sirius,” Remus adds with an approving nod.

“If you two hadn’t left me—” Sirius starts, a hint of irritation coloring his words.

“We did say you could join us,” James cuts in, raising his hand as if to defend himself.

“And you know damn well if all three of us disappeared, people would notice,” Sirius counters, arching an eyebrow.

James shrugs, entirely unbothered. “Your loss.”

“Not entirely,” Sirius says with a wolfish grin. “It just means we can take our time later.”

“No visible marks,” Remus warns, his voice carrying the weight of experience. “We’ll have guests for a while.”

Sirius rolls his eyes, his grin unwavering. “It’ll be fine—it’s never stopped us before.”

Remus sighs, his lips twitching upward despite himself. “Fair enough.”

[stevesjockstrap]

I Can Tell You Miss Me

Rated E • wc 1800 • preseries-S1, getting together, sneaking around, fuck buddies, top Eddie :)

Written for @steddiesmuttyseptember: sneaking around + @steddiesongfics: I Like The Way You Kiss Me - Artemas

Eddie yelped as he was yanked by his collar and pulled into an empty classroom. He almost ducked and swung on instinct but then his mouth was overtaken by insistent soft lips. The now familiar scent of hairspray and expensive cologne assaulted him and he relaxed further.

I like the way you kiss me, I can tell you miss me

Eddie smiled into the kiss and quickly swapped their positions, groaning softly when the other immediately yielded to him, allowing him to press them against the wall and take over.

Breaking apart with a gasp a few minutes later, he couldn’t believe his luck that Steve Harrington was looking at him this way.

“Mmm, missed you, Eds,” he breathed as Eddie dragged his teeth over the hinge of his jaw.

“I know, Stevie boy. I wanted to jump you the second I saw you this morning.” He sunk both hands into the perfectly styled hair. He loved dirtying up the pretty boy, sue him.

Steve whined but didn’t stop him, allowing him to ruffle his shockingly soft hair.

“Can you come over tonight?”

Eddie froze, trying to meet Steve’s eyes but he avoided him, biting into his lip. Eddie couldn’t get any words out, so Steve continued.

“I-it’s, you know, my parents are going out of town again. Usually I’d throw a party, but then I realized the only person I really wanted to see was you.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up and he clenched his jaw to keep it from actually dropping. Play it cool, Munson.

“Oh, I guess I could swing by,” he managed, sounding a lot less affected than he was, thankfully.

“Cool,” Steve replied, trying to shrug casually. “Awesome,” he nodded and then seemed to realize they were still pressed against each other, his hands sliding confidently between them.

This thing had actually started at a party at the Harrington house. Eddie had been bored, suggesting to Jeff that they crash and see how much free alcohol they could pilfer from the rich kids before they were kicked out.

But Steve had shocked them. He just smirked as they filled their cups from the keg in the dining room, holding up his own plastic cup in a silent cheers.

Later in the night, Eddie had been even more surprised when he’d walked into one of the bathrooms to an eyeful — it hadn’t been locked, in his defense — and Steve leered at him as he slowly zipped up. “See something you like, Munson?”

He’d tried to seem nonchalant but the way his eyes couldn’t leave Steve the rest of the night must have shown his cards.

Steve pulled him under the bleachers after third period the next day.

The first time he’d sunk into his tight heat, Steve had looked up at him with his huge wet doe eyes and shuddered.

“Is it too much?”

Eddie received a short shake of his head and a gasp as he pulled back a bit.

“N-no, just- ah, you’re inside of me,” he breathed.

The unbelievable surge of want and the need to keep him safe, to bundle him against his chest and never let go hit him like a fright train.

All he could manage was a weak, “I sure am.” He let himself stare at where they were connected, pushing forward again roughly, making himself shrug off the clenching of his heart.

Not tryna be romantic, I’ll hit it from the back

Just so you don’t get attached

He’d had to step back a bit, for his own sanity. Get a little distance between them. Remind them both that this was just sex. Eddie made sure they were never in that position after that. He couldn’t trust himself not to fall into those wide expressive eyes. To make mountains out of molehills, to create feelings that couldn’t possibly be there.

It wasn’t easy, Steve hadn’t made it easy, using his biggest puppy eyes until Eddie had had to get rough, shoving him over whatever surface. Pulling his hair, covering his mouth, anything to make him forget about kissing him as he fucked into him. To keep his eyes from making promises he couldn’t keep.

Their sporadic make out sessions during school became almost daily, until their senior year. Eddie should’ve known it was too good to be true. It wasn’t like they were even dating. Not even friends with benefits. Fuck buddies, really. It shouldn’t have been such a punch to the gut.

Nancy Wheeler wasn’t even hot, and definitely not anywhere near good enough for Steve. He chose not to dwell on the clear similarities between her and himself. Not part of the popular crowd, gangly limbs, dark curly hair. Jeff pointed out it was probably to pass a class, but Wheeler was only a sophomore. And Steve had no problems using that charm of his to get extra credit.

Then Steve showed up at the trailer for the first time, bleeding and slurring and not making any sense. But Eddie got him into the shower, butterfly bandaged his face up and got some of the story out of him after a few beers between them.

He hadn’t thought Jonathan Byers had it in him.

He jolted, blinking up at Wayne who stood above him, apparently had kicked his foot to wake him. Why was he on the couch?

“That wasn’t your doing, right?” Wayne jutted his chin to his left. Eddie frowned, trying to move his arm to rub the sleep from his eyes. The arm that was wrapped around one Steve Harrington, sporting two black eyes and the cut across his eyebrow bleeding again.

He looked up, cringing at his uncle. “It wasn’t.” Then their current predicament hit him. “Uhh-“

“Should’ve put ice on it, instead of just drinking all the beer,” Wayne huffed, turning to ease himself into his chair, calmly opening up the newspaper. As if that settled everything.

Eddie blinked. Frowned. Rubbed his face. “That’s it?”

Wayne grunted. “Seems like it. Unless you need me to give you ‘The Talk?’”

They both shook their heads, and then laughed.

The jostling finally woke Steve.

“Hey,” he groaned, wincing. Eddie caught his hand before he could poke at his face. “Ouch.”

Steve’s eyes widened comically as they landed on Wayne. He untangled himself from Eddie and shuffled quickly to the other end of the couch.

“Uhhh- I- we-”

Eddie almost wanted to see what his excuse would be, caught snuggling on the couch with the likes of him. Wayne waved him off though.

“Don’t mention it, kid. But don’t bleed on the couch, huh? Family heirloom.”

Steve groaned again as his face moved between surprise, confusion and settled on pain. He stumbled to the bathroom and Eddie rolled his eyes at his uncle. “Family heirloom? We found it by the dumpsters.”

“I’m leaving it to you in my will,” he answered without looking up from his sports page.

“It’s too early for this shit, man,” Eddie grumbled and went to make coffee.

Since Wayne didn’t have a problem with them hanging out — or anything else, as long as they were quiet — Steve became a pretty regular visitor to the trailer. Steve seemed to prefer the trailer to his cushy, usually empty house. And Uncle Wayne was happy to have someone to talk football with.

Eddie didn’t go to his classmates’ graduation. Actually the principal made it clear in no uncertain terms that he should not make an appearance. He was probably worried he’d pull a stunt, but it would’ve been nice to watch his friends walk across the stage. And Steve.

But all of that was erased from his mind as he flicked the graduation gown up Steve’s back

“No shirt, baby? Wanted to give them a show, huh?”

Steve gasped, arching his back into the finger Eddie was dragging down his spine. The rough black fabric highlighted his tanned and freckled back beautifully.

“It was hot, ah!”

Eddie’s fingers had made their way down to his boxers, tugging none too gently at the waistband.

Does it turn you on when I turn you around?

Can we make a scene?

Can you make it loud?

He was the one groaning when he found his pretty ass already wet and open.

“What’s this, Stevie?” He gave him a moment to think as he roughly plunged three fingers in his loosened hole.

“I- oh my god. I didn’t want to wait.”

Eddie hummed, pressing biting kisses down his back. “Where’d you do it, huh? Spread out on your big bed thinking about my cock?”

With a shake of his head, Steve wailed. “No,” he dragged the word out as Eddie teased his prostate. “In the shower.”

Eddie grinned. “Ohhh I see. Did you touch yourself thinking about getting fucked later? Getting yourself all open for me?”

There was a shudder around his fingers and Eddie thought momentarily that Steve had come already but instead he practically yelled, “Yes!”

“Is that right? Did you come? Playing with your ass like a little horndog?” Eddie teased, rubbing continuously now against his prostate.

Steve was whining and groaning so loudly now Eddie hoped no one called the cops.

“That’s it, get loud for me. Wanna hear you. Are you that close already?”

Steve shrieked, and Eddie chuckled. But then almost swallowed his tongue when Steve cried out, “Didn’t- ah! Didn’t come! I waited! Wanted you!”

Eddie could’ve come untouched at that. “Fuck, baby. You’re so fucking perfect.”

Shocking him even further, Steve got enough leverage to turn most of the way over to look back at him. “C-can, please Eds. Can I turn around? Want to be… Need to see you. Please?”

It was that last ‘please’ that got him. The final crack in his resolve, every reasonable argument now quiet to his plea.

Eddie pulled away, then rearranged them in his tiny twin bed. Steve shuddered again as Eddie guided his hips.

Almost as soon as he was fully inside, Steve’s mouth was on his.

I like the way you kiss me, I can tell you miss me

I can tell it hits, hits, hits, hits

Eddie was not going to last long, and from the way Steve was mewling against his lips and meeting his thrusts he didn’t think he would either. The knowledge that Steve had edged himself earlier and probably thought about him the entirety of his commencement, squirming around on his hard chair had him biting into Steve’s lip as he came hard into his body.

“Eds Eds- oh my god,” Steve breathed, staring up at him with those beautiful doe eyes as he came untouched between them.

After they came down, Steve chuckled into his chest. Eddie raised an eyebrow at him.

“Maybe I’ll have to keep the cap and gown, huh?”

“Fuck yes.”

[thewulf]

A Little Jealous || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - I was hoping if I could get one with Jake Seresin x reader where they're very close to each other and flirt with each other all day and makes everyone sick with their shenanigans but they secretly pine for each other... Read Rest Here

A/N: Good old miscommunication trope :) I love writing Jake. Keep on sending these amazing requests in and lmk what you think below! TY for the request @stuffingbuttsandshit

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 3.3k +

“You’re being dumb, and you know it.” Natasha rolled her eyes before turning back to the traffic light the two of you were stopped at, heading towards the Hard Deck. Your usual Friday night hangout spot after yet another grueling training session with Maverick. He was kicking all of your sorry asses right into shape.

Leaning back into the seat you refused to look at her instead keeping your eyes trained out the window, “He doesn’t like me like that. He’s not a relationship guy Nat. He’s said it a hundred damn times. Why would I be any different?” Sighing in frustration Nat noticed you toying with the hem of your shirt, a nervous habit she picked up on after only you for a short while.

“Because you’re you? He told me yesterday how much he likes you.” She sighed in annoyance as she kept her eyes on the road even though she wanted to slap some sense into you. She often had to restrain herself from quite literally beating you up sometimes.

“As a friend! He likes me as a friend you doofus.” You added on knowing he couldn’t possibly return the feelings you had for him.

She scoffed while very visibly rolling her eyes at you, “Can’t believe you called me a doofus you dork.” She sighed before letting you continue the conversation, “Listen, all the two of you do is flirt. He’s constantly staring at you when you aren’t eye fucking him right on back. I haven’t seen two people get along so easily before in this line of work. Might as well embrace what you have while you have a chance.”

“Whatever. I’ll talk to him tonight.” You didn’t want to admit defeat, but you were growing rather tired of going back and forth with her on it. If there was one thing she was it was adamant, and this was the only way to get her to be quiet about it.

Her eyes lit up almost as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing from your mouth, “Really?”

“Yeah, yeah. If it comes up naturally I will.” You nodded your head thankful she was pulling into the bar already. There was a reason everybody from base went here after work, it was close. And you couldn’t be more thankful to be out of the car away from her prying eyes.

She shut the car off turning back to you, “Good enough for me. Now go in there and get your man.” She smirked knowing it’d set you off. She was right of course.

“Not my man.” You grumbled before happily hopping out of her car that was suffocating with her pressing you on the topic of Lieutenant Jake Seresin.

Of course, you’d love to take the next step with him. You practically threw yourself at the guy every time you hung out with him. But he never seemed to take your advances for what they were. Maybe you weren’t forward enough? Or maybe he just wasn’t a relationship kind of guy. You shuddered at that thought. He’d eventually be a relationship kind of guy. When he wanted to be. Why couldn’t it be with you?

When you walked through the front door and over to your usual spot you didn’t spot him right away. Instead, you spotted Bob and Rooster in the corner chatting away about something intently. Sitting down next to them you waited for their conversation to conclude before interrupting them.

“Hey Y/N.” Bob acknowledged you after a minute. You didn’t mind. Your eyes were busy scanning for Jake. Much to your annoyance you didn’t see him. Was he not here yet? That’d be off, he always beat you to the bar. Always saved a seat for you.

“Hey guys.” You nodded at the both of them with distraction written all over your face.

Rooster smiled over at you knowing exactly who you were looking for, “He’s on the other side of the bar with a friend.”

“Who is?” You couldn’t hide the blush that appeared out of thin air just at the thought of Jake. Were you really that easy to read?

“Hangman.” Rooster leaned forward challenging you, “The guy you’ve been looking for since you walked in.” Bob couldn’t help the small laugh that came from his friends joke.

“I have not.” Your eyes looked everywhere but his.

Bradley laughed, “Sure. Go on then. Go get a drink or something. Definitely don’t go looking for Jake or anything.”

You stook quickly, gracious of his out, “Am I that bad of company?” You mocked offence.

“Hardly.” He smiled shaking his head at your usual antics. Rooster had come to like you quite a bit. You were sharp as a tack, deadly in the air and kinder than they usually came. He’d be a fool not to befriend you. An asset he knew he’d need in the future, “It’s our company I fear that is not nearly riveting enough for you.”

You giggled shaking your head at him, “You’re something else Roos.” Before he could reply you walked over to the bar ordering a drink but also looking for the man who’d taken your heart so effortlessly.

When your eyes scanned the other side of the bar your heart nearly stopped when you finally spotted the guy you’d been looking for. He was sitting there talking, no laughing, with a beautiful blonde woman. Your mouth ran dry as your heart rate picked up at a rapid pace. She was absolutely breathtaking. Far, far more beautiful than you could ever hope to even come close to. If he was chatting her up so easily then how in the hell did you ever think you stood chance with man? Nat was right. You were just you.

You’d let Nat’s words get to your head and get yourself into thinking he’d actually want you. How could you have been so damn stupid? Your eyes watched them carefully as they both seemed overjoyed to be in such an intense conversation going on.

It was Penny who knocked you out of the longing stare that had your thoughts consumed so entirely, “Drink?” She asked.

“Uh, actually I’m alright. Thanks Pen.” You waved her off not wanting to get stuck here longer than you wanted.

She gave you a confused looked before turning away back to her paying customers. You walked out in a half daze thinking about the pretty blonde woman who had captured Jake’s attention whole so easily. You’d managed to avoid everybody on your way out including your ever so nosy friend. You decided to walk home, it was only about a half mile back to your apartment. You’d done it a hundred times before. You were just usually a little drunk and not so heartbroken.

In your mind it was best to simply turn your phone to silent and flip it over while you watched reruns of your favorite shows once you got home. You’d decided it was best to throw yourself a little mini pity party mourning a relationship that’d never be. So that’s exactly what you did. Ignored your phone and watched television. That was your first mistake. Your second was ignoring the knocks on the door. Instead, you turned the TV up just a little louder pretending you couldn’t hear it. Once the heavy banging on the door commenced you knew you could no longer ignore it.

You flung the door open in irritation not knowing who exactly it was but assuming it was Nat, “Would you quiet down? You’re going to get me in trouble…” The words stopped dead in your mouth as you observed Jake on the other side of the door and not Nat. Jake. Shit.

“You didn’t answer my texts.” He frowned giving you a once over scan that you would’ve missed if your eyes weren’t so trained on his. He was checking to make sure you were physically fine. You knew that.

“I turned my phone on silent. Wanted a night to myself.” You answered him before continuing with your own question, “What are you doing here?”

“Or my calls. You ignored my calls.” His frown deepened as he scanned your apartment behind you now. What was he looking for?

You sighed now, getting a little frustrated with his seemingly impromptu visit, “I told you. My phone is on silent in another room.”

That snapped him out of whatever he was doing. You usually didn’t have such a hostile tone with him. Everything with you was usually so gentle. The hostility was left for the skies, “Why? Why weren’t you at the Hard Deck tonight? Nat said you came in with her?” He looked so confused, almost hurt?

You nodded, “I did. I just felt, unwell.” It wasn’t an outright lie. Seeing Jake with that beautiful blonde woman made you more nauseous than you’d like to admit.

“Oh okay.” He frowned giving you another once over, “Are you alright?” He took a step to the side looking almost bashful. Not as confident as he normally came off. It was odd to see him so out of sorts. What was the reason? Surely it couldn’t have been you.

You took a moment to contemplate his question. You were fine, certainly. Just a little devastated for something that would never occur. A future you yearned for that would never begin. But you were fine.

“I’m alright. Why are you here Jake?” You asked once more not stepping away from the front door. Not letting him in but not shooing him away either. You’d usually let him waltz through without a worry, but something was stopping you.

“To check in. I got worried when you wouldn’t answer. You always do.” He answered without a beat. He didn’t look l

“Oh.” You nodded at him. That was kind. That was very much like him, “Sorry to make you stop by.”

He shook his head, “It’s alright.” He kept looking you over. You were playing with the hem of your shirt again. Things were awkward. Uncomfortable. You were nervous and he wasn’t saying what he wanted. Unsure of what to say you just looked down. Not ending the conversation but not making it move forward either.

“Well, goodnight.” You said after a few moments of painful silence. There wasn’t usually this much tension between the two of you. It felt wrong. There was never usually such an air of awkwardness such as there was now.

“No, wait.” He put his hand on the doorframe so you couldn’t shut the door. Not that you were planning to shut it in his face, “Is everything alright Y/N? I don’t… I don’t know what happened or what I did.” He paused giving you a genuine look of confusion and concern. A look you weren’t terribly familiar with from the man.

He was right. How would he know? You were being weird and secretive. And now that you knew he was probably dating that girl you couldn’t air out your love to him. That’d just ruin the friendship you’d grown to love with him.

So instead, you had to deflect a bit, “I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

He turned his head in confusion at that, “Pardon?”

“Uh,” Might as well spit out some of the truth, “Tonight. Was going to tell you I was heading home but then I saw you talking to the woman. She was pretty.” You added the last sentence in almost silence hoping he couldn’t detect the jealousy radiating from your body. It wasn’t easy to hide, no.

He crinkled his eyes together, “Who?”

Was he playing dumb? Could the interaction have been so minute that he didn’t even recognize just how gorgeous the woman was? You bit the inside of your mouth to hide your dissatisfied frown, “The blonde woman you were talking to in the booth?”

He cocked his head to the side. First a wave of confusion crossed his face then recognition of the interaction must’ve crossed as his once confused face turned to realization, “You mean Amy?” His smile turned to a knowing smirk once he put two and two together. Jake was anything but dumb. In fact, he was quite intelligent. It hit him as to why your mood would have turned so sour towards him so quickly.

“Amy?” You asked playing right into his hand. He had you now and you didn’t even know it.

He nodded leaning onto the side of the apartment building, “Yup. She was my commanding officer back in Virginia. We were catching up for a moment.” He nodded his head watching you as he reveled in your realization of who he chatting with. He also knew how pretty she was. Jake had thought so since the moment he had laid eyes on her all those years ago. There was a slight problem though, she wasn’t exactly into men. And she wasn’t afraid to let those around her know it. Apparently, you hadn’t picked up on it though. And Jake decided he’d tease you about it for a bit.

“Oh.” You said again as you took a step back while crossing your arms over your chest. It wasn’t exactly an invitation inside the apartment, but it wasn’t not either. Jakes eyebrows quirked up quickly as he realized he was getting somewhere with you. It was cute. You were jealous. You’d been so good at hiding any emotion he wasn’t sure if you actually liked him back. Nat had assured him that you did, and you were just afraid at showing it. Afraid of the consequences once you dove headfirst in. But this was a sign, albeit a small one.

He bobbed his head up and down while taking a small step forward, “Oh indeed.” He gave you a wry smile as his eyes traced over your face, “She was just telling me about how she and her wife were looking at adopting once they get settled out here.”

Your eyes rose in recognition of what he had told you, “Her wife?”

He took another small step forward, shrinking the already small space between the two of you, “Of three years. I was invited to the wedding. It was nice.” He grinned knowing he had you now. Your little outburst and show looked a little silly. He knew you felt embarrassed because he knew you. He adored you. He had begun to love you.

You looked down letting a small sigh of defeat out. You did feel embarrassed. Mortified actually. This is why you didn’t jump to conclusions. This right here. You stepped away from the door officially inviting him inside. He’d done nothing wrong. And even if he was flirting with a pretty blonde girl he would’ve done nothing wrong. You didn’t have any claim over him. Crap. You’d just made an unknowing mess of everything.

Jake didn’t hesitate at your invitation in. A sort of nonverbal apology he happily accepted. He sat down on the couch opposite of you giving you a smile, “You don’t look sick.” He said to you.

“I feel better.” You gave him a quick nod knowing your cheeks were beginning to flush right in front of him.

“Did your illness have anything to do with Amy?” He pressed deciding he wanted to cross the invisible line between the two of you tonight. Your acting out showed him just how much you actually did like him.

“No!” You were quick to answer, far too quick.

His little grin grew into that signature Jake smirk. The one that was often reflected at you in a much different light. Not like this. Not like he’d caught you doing something because he actually did.

“You sure about that?” He leaned so far froward you were sure he was trying to touch you now. Egg you on. Press your buttons. Cross the line. Maybe Nat wasn’t wrong? Maybe he did have feelings?

With wide eyes you shook your head, “No.”

He scooted over on the couch, so he was sitting next to you now. He reached out, placing a hand on your knee, “You seem… a little jealous?”

Your eyes were staring right at his hand that seemed to engulf your knee. You tried to answer him, really. But when you opened your mouth not a sound would come out. You shut your mouth in an instant before turning to him knowing he was right. You were a little jealous. But did you really have to admit it to him?

He leaned a bit closer to you, running his hand just a touch up your leg, before whispering in your ear, “For what it’s worth, I think it’s adorable that you’re a little jealous.”

Thankful for him giving you a little relief you finally found your words again, “You do?”

The smirk turned down into a soft smile as he saw the lack of confidence in your face. Had he not done enough to assure you of how he really felt? He’d thought he made it pretty obvious.

“I do. I think it’s really cute. Wanna know another little secret I’ve been keeping from you?” He asked you.

Your heart rate involuntarily picked up at that, “Yes.” It sounded more of a whisper than anything else. But you couldn’t quite help it. You were nervous. He made you terribly nervous.

“I think you’re the prettiest woman I’ve ever got to know.” He smiled watching your reaction. It was nice seeing you so expressive with him. You’d always been so cautious and reserved with him. Collected and calculated. But you no longer had to be. Not when he’d been so outright with it now.

“Now, I know you’re joking.” You laughed not so sure of his admission to you. But his face said otherwise.

“Have I lied to you before?” He asked knowing the answer was an easy no.

You shook your head in response, “No.”

He smiled softly moving his hand from your leg to your hand, “Why would I start now then?”

You gulped at the seriousness in his tone and through his expression. He wasn’t lying. He was out here admitting his feelings towards you. Damn. Nat was right. More than right. You were a fucking idiot.

Before you could stop the words that came out of your mouth you finally admitted to him how you’d been feeling, “I like you.”

He smile before capturing your face in his free hand, “A little jealousy always helps.” Brushing your lip with his thumb he studied your face intently, “I like you too. I like you more than you can even imagine.”

A breath of relief washed out of you as the words you’d been dying to hear left his lips, “That’s good to hear.”

He started laughing. A good old hearty laugh that filled you with your own sense of joy and giggles, “Let me take you out on a real proper date darlin’?” He asked once the shared laughter between the two of you had died down.

You nodded quickly, breathlessly as you took in his lovestruck gaze, “I’d like that.”

His other hand joined him as he cupped your face in his embrace. You were truly vulnerable as hell to him, a position you’d tried to avoid from the get-go. But you couldn’t help it. You were falling for him, fast.

“You have no idea how bad I want to kiss you right now pretty girl.”

You leaned towards him without a second thought, “Then do it.”

He thought for a second before shaking his head, “Can’t kiss you without taking you out first darlin’.”

You bit your lip knowing it’d drive him past his breaking point, “Please? You don’t have to be a gentleman tonight.”

He groaned, tightening his embrace on your face as carefully as he could, “How can I say no when you ask like that?”

Jake Seresin/Top Gun: Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mamachasesmayhem

[houseofripley]

Save A Horse Ride A Cowgirl

Rhea Ripley x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+, Cunnilingus, Strap-On, Riding, Orgasm Denial, Fingering (for like 2 seconds. don’t blink), Light Degradation, Spanking, Backshots, Lil bit of a mommy kink.

WORD COUNT: 2,736

A/N: -panting and out of breath- honey! it took me 800 hours but your oneshot is finished!

seriously tho sorry for the mid! writers block was beating my ass during this for no reason

Survivor Series, the day the wrestling community waited months for. You were sat at the edge of the bed in your hotel room, staring into the loud TV, waiting for your girlfriend to make her appearance for her match against Zoey Stark. 

You were supposed to be there but of course Rhea’s magment had fucked up their dates, leaving you without a pass to the event.

It killed both of you knowing you wouldn’t be backstage to cheer on Rhea. 

Anytime a pay-per-view even came around you’d clear your entire schedule just to support and help Rhea prepare. She took such good care of you it was the least you could do. Although you couldn’t physically be at the arena you still flew out to Chicago to at least be able to spend a little bit of time with Rhea.

You were pulled away from your train of thought as Rhea’s music soon started blaring through the stadium, “And her opponent, representing The Judgment Day, she is the women's world champion, Rhea Ripley!” The announcer yelled out as Rhea made her entrance, wearing what was possibly the sexiest gear she has ever worn.

“Holy shit-” You mumbled to yourself, leaning forward trying to get a closer look. Rhea looked insane. Her hair was in a faux mohawk, stripes of eyeliner ran over her eyes in a lighting strike pattern, black lipstick was smudged onto her right cheek. 

Rhea’s eyes never broke contact with the camera lens as she made her way down the ramp, she knew you'd be right on the receiving end of her gaze.

Once Rhea made her way into the ring you were able to catch a good glimpse at her gear. She sported a black vest over a black and white plunge top that was split down the middle, her shorts following the same theme while her boots displayed a cow print. But the bread and butter of this outfit was the black assless chaps. 

This outfit had to have been the reason Rhea was so protective over her suitcase these past few days. 

You sat eagerly watching the match, which was short yet action packed. Rhea had thrown Zoey around like she was nothing the entire match, your mind couldn't help but wonder what it’d look like if Rhea had manhandled you in the same way.

Rhea had retained her title with ease, barely breaking a sweat during the length of her match. You were quick to pick up your phone and congratulate her,

Y: YOU DID IT LOVEEEE!!!! and you looked good as hell while doing it….

Rhea replied about ten minutes later with a full body mirror selfie to show off her look, this time with an addition of a black cowboy hat and her hair out of the faux mohawk.

R: thank you baby, my hair wouldn’t fit in my hat so we had to ditch that plan :/ 

Y:  god damn! ditch wrestling and become a cowboy! 

Y: it’s so unfair i don’t get to see you like that rn urghhh

R: i know baby, i promise i’ll make it up to you tonight. look, i gotta go do a few things, i’ll see you in an hour or two okay?

Y: you better…now shoo and don’t keep me waiting for you all night

You huffed as you dropped your phone down onto your lap. The wait for Rhea had officially begun. 

There was one match left before the main war games match. Knowing Rhea would make an appearance in that last match you decided to rile her up a bit beforehand. 

You made your way to your suitcase and began searching for the new lingerie set you had bought just days ago while Rhea was training. You pulled out a bra made of intricate lacing along with the matching crotchless panties and garter belt. 

Once you had slipped into the lace you stationed yourself in front of the mirror. You used your free hand to grope your breast as you snapped a photo and sent it to Rhea.

Y: excited to see mami on my screen.

R: naughty girl…

R: are you really trying to get yourself into trouble right now?

Y: well i just figured since mami sent me such a sexy pic earlier i’d return the favor. i can send another one if you'd like…

You didn’t give Rhea the opportunity to reply before you snapped another picture, this time slightly rotating to your side to catch the curvature of your ass.

Seen at 9:36 pm.

You stared at your phone waiting for her reply but attention was pulled away as you heard The Judgment Day being announced, Rhea was nowhere to be seen as they made their entrance. You pouted as you laid down in the bed, your knees slightly spread as you watched in anticipation for Rhea’s appearance.

After a long match, intense and still no reply Rhea finally arrived at the end of the match, she came barreling down the ramp, this time wearing her cowboy hat with Priest’s MITB briefcase clenched in her hands.

You quickly took the opportunity to send Rhea a picture of your hand resting in between your thighs as she paraded on the screen in front of you. 

Y: just remembered a quote, something about save a horse, ride a cowgirl…

Another waiting game began. As much as you loved seeing Rhea clearly flustered on the screen you couldn’t wait for her to get to the locker room and see the message you left for her.

After a failed cash-in and two surprise returns from Randy Orton and CM Punk the main event finally came to a close, meaning Rhea was finally able to return to her phone. You picked up your phone to view your previous message exchanges with Rhea.

A text bubble appeared, indicating Rhea was on the other side drafting up her response. You chewed down on your cheek eagerly watching your phone. 

The text bubble disappeared.

Seen at 10:24pm.

You whined to yourself, a wetness growing between your legs. You attempted to make multiple calls to Rhea, only for each and every one of them to be ignored. You slumped into the bed, giving up on making contact with the woman.

Just moments later a banner popped up at the top of your phone,

R: face down ass up. you have two minutes.

Rhea had finally given you the attention you were craving. You needed her touch badly, so you gladly obeyed her demands getting into position in the center of the bed. Your face sunk into your pillow while your bare cunt peeked through the gap of your crotchless panties as you took in the sensation of the crisp hotel air that kissed your wetness.

You soon heard the quiet unlatching of the door followed by shuffling fabric. You peeked over to see Rhea, in that damn cowboy hat, discarding her streetwear to reveal the gear you’d been fawning over all night.

Rhea’s gaze was fixed on your arching back as she crept her way towards you. 

“Such a little slut for me,” Rhea husked, her weight sinking onto the bed as you waved your ass in the air. She took a moment to admire the sight of your wet cunt glistening in the dimmed light. 

“Just the thought of Mami has you all worked up.” Rhea relished, her hands skimming over the delicate skin of your ass before dropping a slap down onto you, causing a muffled yelp to leave your mouth.

Rhea moved her pointer finger to your heat and began to trace the skin around your wetness. Her finger took its time inching towards your hole before being pushed into you at a painfully slow pace, making you whine out into your pillow“Mami, please.” 

“What a needy girl.” Rhea taunted, watching you squirm against her finger, “Such a wreck already...” She hummed in response to your whining when she pulled her finger out of you. 

Both Rhea’s hands took ahold of your ass cheeks giving them a squeeze before she brought her face just centimeters from your aching heat. Shivers snuck up your spine as her heavy breaths brushed against your wetness. Her lips wrapped around you, her tongue beginning to draw circles perimitering your clit.

Rhea then pulled back and spat onto your cunt causing a high pitched ‘fuck’ to leave your mouth. She hummed to herself in satisfaction while she took you back into her mouth. Her hands still clenched to your ass as she began devouring you, acting as if she was having her final meal. 

All you could do was cling to the bedsheets and cry out into your pillow as Rhea took as much of you as she could in her mouth, her tongue piercing reaching brand new places. Due to your current position the tip of Rhea’s nose was repeatedly brushing against your entrance, adding fuel to the fire that was burning inside you.

“Gonna cum, Mami!” You pulled your head up from your pillow and moaned out. 

You could feel Rhea scoff against you before prying herself off your cunt, “No you’re not,” She groused, withdrawing all touch from you. “Such a spoiled girl, thinking you get to cum after teasing me when I’m working.”

“Please Mami! I’ll do anything- Just touch me, let me cum.” You pleaded, turning your head to look back at her with scrunched brows.

“You can beg all you want…but we both know that you won't cum until I say so.” Rhea’s tone was smug as she stood up from the bed. “Now…stay there and don’t even think about moving.” She growled on, making her way into the bathroom before closing the door behind her. 

You humphed to yourself, letting your head fall down to your pillow. It took everything in you to restrain your hands from touching yourself, but you knew if Rhea ever caught you pleasuring yourself she would push you to your breaking point. 

Several minutes had passed, your orgasm that was once near had seemingly wandered off. Your eyes were focused on the bathroom door as the knob rotated and Rhea emerged. Her shorts had disappeared and been replaced with a black strap-on…yet her chaps were still on. The sight alone had you arching your back as she lurched towards you.

“Look at you…all ready for Mami’s cock.” She murmured, crawling up behind you. She spat onto the silicon and slowly began jerking herself off, spreading her saliva over the toy before prodding at your slick coated entrance.

“Mami-” You purred out as the tip of Rhea’s toy pressed into your needy hole. Your walls were soon engulfing the entirety of her length. 

You had little to no time to adjust to her girth before she started ripping into you, leaving you at a loss for words. One of her hands was clamped to your hip while the other delivered a sharp slap to your ass before grabbing a fistful of your hair. “This is what you wanted isn’t it-” She groaned out while your cunt pulsed around her toy. “Sending me pictures of you whoring around the room, you were just begging to be ruined.”

The only sounds leaving your mouth were jumbled vowels mixed in with moans, she had you completely unable to form a sentence. You were powerless as Rhea pulled you up by your arms, bringing your back to press against her chest. 

You threw your head back against her shoulder as her hand trailed down to your clit, massaging quick circles against your swollen bud while continuing her merciless strokes.

“Don’t even think about it.” She whispered as you squirmed against her, letting out constant whines. Her free hand reached to wrap around your throat as you began rolling your hips back against Rhea. “Already fucking yourself against Mami’s cock?” She harshly questioned, her fingers adding more pressure against your clit, forcing a scream to come from your mouth.

“Such a slut.” Rhea lowly stated, letting go of the hold she had on you before pushing you back down to the bed. Her thrusts came to a halt as you rocked yourself on her cock. Her hand dropped a bitter spank on your skin, signaling for you to quicken your pace.

Rhea allowed you to fuck yourself on her strap while she caught her breath and admired the view she had of you. But your motions were abruptly cut off by Rhea’s hands firmly gripping your hips. You whimpered as she pulled herself out of you, leaving you empty.

Rhea flipped you onto your back before pulling you to sit upright. “You wanna ride Mami’s cock don’t you,” Her hoarse voice spoke, her hand moving to place her hat onto your head. You nodded, looking up to her with needy eyes while shifting to sit on your knees. “Use your words, princess.” She warned as her fingers gripped your jaw, taking control over you.

“Please, I've been waiting all night, Mami.” You swallowed, your breath shaking in anticipation as your hips wiggled with excitement.

“That’s it, good girl.” She hummed in approval, dropping the grip she had on your jaw. She brought herself to the head of the bed, resting her back on the headboard. You crawled up to her lap and situated your entrance to hover over Rhea’s tip. 

Your hands clutched Rhea’s shoulders as you began sinking yourself onto her length while moaning her name. As your hips started gradually bouncing, Rhea’s hands found themselves resting against your waist.

Meanwhile the pairs of your lips collided into a sloppy kiss. You whined into Rhea’s mouth, the piercing on her tongue brushing against your lip as her hands trailed to cup your breasts. Your eyes were glued shut as swayed yourself up and down Rhea’s length.

The overwhelming sense of pleasure was already washing over you. The combination of Rhea’s lips wandering to your neck, her digits toying with your nipples, and her cock being swallowed by your insides had your stomach contracting. 

Your pace picked up in speed as you tightened yourself around Rhea’s girth. As you focused on the movements in your hips Rhea’s attention was centered around your neck and collarbones, working on scattering reddish-purple marks against your skin. 

“Please-Can’t hold on any longer.” You pleaded with the woman through whimpers, your nails beginning to sink deeper into her shoulders. 

Rhea pulled herself from your neck, her hands moved to force your hips all the way to the base of her length. “Just one more minute, can you do that for me?” She questioned, her hands guiding you to rock back and forth.

“Y-Yes Mami,” You whimpered out at the sensation of your clit rocking against the leather band at the base of Rhea’s strap.

As the end of the excruciating sixty seconds neared your motions got sloppier with each motion. Rhea was sure guests in the other rooms  could hear your moans but you didn’t care, your mind was only focusing on not cumming at the exact moment.

“Open your eyes, pretty girl.” Rhea’s accent was thick as she spoke. “I want you to look at me while you cum all over my cock.” She added on while her fingers softly danced around your jawline.

Your eyes darted open once you heard Rhea finally give you permission to release yourself. Your vision was blurred by tears as you stared into Rhea’s oceanic blues. “Fuck-Oh! Mami!” You had barely managed to choke out, just seconds away from your climax. 

“C’mon,” Was the last thing you hear Rhea egg on before your orgasm flooded over you, leaving you crying out moans. Rhea’s hands moved to stabilize your twitching and shaking lower half. Quiet praises left your girlfriend's mouth as she helped you come down from your high. Your swollen lips placed a gentle peck against Rhea’s cheek as insignificant tears fell from your eyes.

“You okay, Princess? I didn’t hurt you did I?” Rhea’s gaze softened while her hands hurried to cup your face. 

You shook your head, giving her a weak smile, “Mm-mm, just felt really good…” You quietly replied as your arms wrapped behind Rhea’s neck. You gave Rhea a gentle smooch as she carefully pulled you off her length, the once black strap was now covered with scattered strings of whiteness.

“Alright, let’s get you cleaned up, pretty girl.”

[wrangleandtame]

Clouds Don't Perish (They Dissipate)

Think you could get off this road?” Kate hollered, “feel like I’m in a paint shaker.”

Tyler glanced at her with that mischievous smile, the one her mom had deemed his “shit-eating grin.”

“Short cut!” he yelled back.

“I can see the map, you idiot, this is twice as long!”

He shrugged, “I got you alone in this truck for the first time in a week. I’m goin’ the long way ‘round.”

“Your plan is to fuck me in some random field, isn’t it?”

He snorted, “sure as hell is now!”

He released his full-throated laugh, revealing all of his perfect teeth, crow's feet splaying out from his sunglasses. She loved that laugh; it should be labeled a contagion. The man could suss out the fun in nearly any situation, and his exuberance nearly always stirred Kate from her occasional tendency towards re-erecting emotional barriers. 

This was one of THOSE moments wherein Kate perceived her own contentment: bouncing around the cab of his truck, Tyler singing (not well) along to Lydia Loveless blasting, windows down, kicking up a trail of rocks and dust behind them. 

Backward cap, button-up green flannel, and the now ever-present perfectly manicured two-day scruff (possibly motivated by Kate mentioning the pleasing sensation of his unshaven face between her thighs) were absolutely doing it for her. He caught her gazing and leered back suggestively, waggling his eyebrows over the top of his sunglasses. She dissolved into laughter. 

She felt her phone vibrate so she lengthened her torso and yanked it free of her side pocket.  The lit screen displayed, “Mom.”

  “I was just thinking about you,” she said by way of a hello.

Tyler’s head whipped back to her in interest, tipping his head low enough for his eyes to be seen over his sunglasses. He raised his eyebrows in question.

Kate mouthed “mom,” and the easy smile returned to his face. He twisted the dial, lowering the volume of the music and raised the windows with a flick of his finger.

“Hi Cathy!” he called.

“And where are you guys at today?” Cathy questioned.

“Close actually. Like, uh, 20 miles north of Tulsa,” Kate peaked at the radar projections again, hoping for something more promising. “We’ll probably stay in that area today, unless things change.”

“Well, if things don’t change and you want to come home, you can invite your crew to save a few dollars and stay at the farm.”

“Did she say hi back?” Tyler nagged, and Kate scowled and waved him off. Her mother’s aloof demeanor brought out a rare obsequious quality in Tyler, and this usually amused Kate. At the moment, she just wanted him to shut up.

“That would be amazing.  I’m sure they’d appreciate it.”

Tyler interrupted, “appreciate what?”

“Mom invited us all to stay at the house tonight.”

“Just made my day Cathy,” he yelled at the phone.

“It’ll be nice,” Cathy continued. “I’ll make a mess of barbecue.”

Kate’s mouth watered at the thought of real food, “that sounds so so good.”

“Call me later and let me know.”

“I will.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

She hung up, stowed her phone in her pocket, and Tyler asked again, “did she say hi back?”

“Yeah, she says hi,” she lied, and then swung her head towards the backseat to tell Addy and Praveen about the barbecue food waiting for them. 

Later, even with hindsight and self-awareness intact, she would be astounded by her certainty that they had been an arm's length away, faces lit with excitement. Addy even pushed her glasses up with her wrist, just as she always had, her glasses ever-slipping and her hands ever-full.

Kate gasped and caught a peripheral of a smiling Jeb at the wheel. She threw herself against her passenger door and screwed her eyes shut, pressing the palms of her hands into her sockets.

“Kate?” Jeb said, concern lacing his voice. No, not Jeb. TYLER said, concern lacing HIS voice. Tyler Owens, she corrected her stupid brain. 

“You okay?”

She didn’t look up, keeping her palms planted firmly against her eyes. A sob escaped her mouth instead of the reasonable explanation she intended. Why did she sound like that?

“Whoa, whoa. Kate? Hang on.” She felt a hand on the top of her head, but she still didn’t move. If she didn’t move, she reasoned, perhaps this nightmare would conclude quickly.

She felt the truck swerve and stop, the rumbling of the engine cut out. What should have been silence overflowed with the sounds of hyperventilating and an approaching freight train. 

She felt sure her death was imminent. Her body shook uncontrollably, and her heartbeat pounded ferociously, attempting to break out from her chest. She had unconsciously pulled her knees up and had formed a tight ball with her body.

“What’s going on? Can you hear me?” Tyler sounded as if he was in a tunnel. Shit. Maybe an underpass.

She thought she might be able to speak, but gasps and sobs colonized the space where words should be.

“Can you try and look at me?”

Kate released the pressure on her eyeballs and attempted to tip her head up to see Tyler but her vision was completely blurred by tears. Was she crying?

Her teeth chattered, and Tyler placed a hand on her cheek, “I think you’re having an anxiety attack.”

“No,” she sobbed, “I don’t, I don’t have them anymore.”

Was that her voice? Kate doubted it. That didn’t sound like her. 

Blurry Tyler’s head nodded, “Let’s say we just try to take some deep breaths anyway.  It can’t hurt.”

She realized that the thunderous freight train was an oncoming tornado. People always describe the sound of a tornado as a train, but she wouldn’t have described it as such before now. 

For her, tornadoes sounded like monsters, growling and roaring. She looked out the windows, frantically searching the bright horizon. Where was it?

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Tyler cooed, “You’re okay.”  

It wasn’t okay. Nothing was fucking okay. 

HER tornado was coming for them, and she couldn’t even see it! She could hear the change of the roar to the cacophony of whooshing and clanging when it’s devoured Praveen and clamoring for Addy. The bellowing while yanking Jeb from atop her. The deafening barrage when it’s aiming to suck Kate out from an underpass. Fucking stop. Stop. STOP!

“Kate?” Tyler tried again. 

“I can’t. Can’t make it stop,” she cried, her thoughts jumbling, her mind jumping time. Past, present, past, present.

She suddenly launched herself forward, peering into the back seat to see if they were still there.  They weren’t, of course, because they were dead. They wouldn’t be eating barbecue today. Not any day. They were dead. She knew this. She’d known this for a long time.

She planted herself back in her seat, and looked into Tyler’s face, clenching with concern. Maybe worse than concern. Shit, he thought she was crazy. He had a point. Sane people don’t see ghosts.  Sane people don’t hear invisible tornadoes. 

She clamped her hands over her ears, trying to dampen the bellowing and keening, “Stop. I just…please stop.”

Tyler carefully pulled her hands from her ears, “Kate, look in my eyes. Can you see me?”

She focused on his vivid seaglass-green eyes. Where did his sunglasses go? She nodded and stammered, “Yes. I. Yes.”

“Okay, good. You’re doing good. Now listen to me. Stop trying to make it stop.”

Stop trying to make it stop. What the fuck was he talking about?

“Just focus on me if you can. Be here with me.” He kept her trembling hands in his, but she pulled them back from his grasp. She quickly checked the backseat again. Empty.

“Keep your eyes on me.” 

She refocused upon his face, nodding. 

“Atta girl, okay, we’re going to breathe together now.”

  His movements seemed exaggerated, his chest and mouth moving slowly, “okay, breathing in two three four, and out two three four, breathing in two three four.” 

She attempted to mimic him but couldn’t figure out the actual mechanics of breathing, and this terrified her even more than riding shotgun with her dead friends. 

“Can’t,” she shook harder, her teeth clacking together. How do you breathe!? How?

“That’s okay, that’s okay. I’m going to breathe and you just listen. You’re doing fine.”

“Not fine,” she stammered. 

“You will be. Y’hear me? This won’t last much longer. It’ll be over soon. You’re gonna be okay.”

She shook her head; nothing was okay.

“C’mon Kate, let’s get some air. It’ll do you good.”

“No!” she grabbed his forearm, frantically looking outside. Didn’t he know how much danger he was in? A new wave of fear rippled through her body.

“You’re safe. I promise,” the sincerity in his voice almost made her believe him. “Let’s look at some clouds. You’re not in any danger. It’s going to be okay Kate. Trust me.” 

He placed his rough warm hand over hers, and she looked at his arm where she clutched him, knuckles white, fingernails plugged into his skin. She felt paralyzed. She couldn’t even rotate her eyes off the soft hairs on his tawny arm. 

“I’ll be with you, and we’ll just look at some clouds. Just you and me. Just Tyler and Kate, okay?”

She had no memory of agreeing, of releasing his arm, or of him exiting the truck and moving to her door. She blinked, and he leaned in the open passenger-side door, expectantly waiting for her. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do or say. Did he ask her a question? 

His face was achingly soft, eyes balmy with affection. He slipped his arm around her back and one under her knees, “this okay?”

She nodded, and he scooped her into his arms, lifting her from the truck cab and using his booted foot to close the creaking metal truck door.

He crossed the road and ambled into a low-growing field of green.  He carried her, but she was the one panting in uneven sporadic bursts, clutching handfuls of his soft flannel shirt.

He murmured softly to her as he walked through the field, “it’s alright. You’re alright Kate. I’m right here. Just going to look at some clouds. Just breathe. You’re alright.”

She tucked her head against his chin, desperately attempting to anchor time to his voice.

“This looks like a good spot. We’re going to sit for a spell and see if we can find some clouds, okay?”

“K,” she mumbled, and she felt him nuzzle her forehead with his scratchy chin.

“Smell that?” He lowered them to the earth with a soft grunt, her body draped across his lap.

“Do you smell the clovers, Kate? They’re blooming. Love these. White ones smell better than the crimson ones.”

She could smell them. The growing ground heat released the morning petrichor from last night’s rain - wet and sweet with a light floral perfume. 

“Smells nice,” she mumbled, and he gave her a praiseful squeeze in response.

“Bumblebees are louder than the damn birds. You hear em?”

He was purposefully engaging her senses, she realized. How did he know what to do?  Why couldn’t she remember? She was the one who had over forty of the damn things. New York rules: if at work, run to the restroom, hide in the stall, and endlessly flush the toilet to cover sounds of crying and panting.  Fucking useless skills in this situation.

He considered the sky for a moment and then smiled down at her face, “look up Kate.”

She tilted her head back, neck cradled in the crook of his arm, and saw the sky bluer than it had a right to be. To the east, she spotted a big bouncy cumulonimbus tower with a bulbous bottom layer. 

“What are you seeing?”

“Mammatus,” she whispered.

He chuckled happily, “yep. What else?”

She watched them move for a moment, a gorgeous slow roll. Her eyes caught another edge of the sky, and she lifted her heavy arm, which felt weirdly unattached. She wiggled her fingers. They did what she told them, so they must be hers. Raising her thumb to the sky, she measured a cloud.

“What time is it?” She croaked, throat dry, her voice slightly foreign to her.

He raised his wrist, “let’s see, it’s uh nine fifteen am.”

“Altocumulus.”

“Damn straight, altocumulus. Beautiful, huh?”

“Beautiful,” she agreed. She knew they were beautiful, but she didn’t actually feel the beauty.

He shifted her off of his lap, arm still curved under her neck and tentatively lowered them both to the soft bed of green clovers, “better vantage.” 

She barely noticed, following the white clouds with her eyes like a meditation.

After a few moments, he pointed at the sky, “dragon.”

She followed his finger and spotted the dragon in the clouds, “I see it.”

She pointed next to it, closing one eye to better focus her vision, “banana.”

“Yup.”

The dragon’s torso elongated and detached, and its head resembled a dot to a dot from her childhood activity books.

Tyler pointed at the dissipating dragon head, “oatmeal.”

“Cheating.”

“It’s not cheating. It’s oatmeal. Oh, oh, wait, no, now it’s grits.”

She smiled - the impulse natural, the action dull and stiff.  She only heard birds tweeting, Tyler’s soft breathing, and an occasional bee buzzing by. 

This was when she realized that she wasn’t panting, crying or hallucinating. She felt slowed like moving through water, and a debilitating mix of shame, embarrassment, and guilt settled within her chest.

“We should go,” she frowned and tried to sit up, seized by dizziness.

“Should we?” Tyler sat up and placed his hand on the middle of her back. She pulled away with none of the subtlety she intended. 

“We were supposed to meet up at that QT off seventy-five ages ago Tyler.”  Look at Kate, stringing a full coherent sentence together.

“I called Boone. Remember? Told everyone to meet us at your mom’s.”

When did that happen? Tyler’s face telegraphed that she should easily recall this memory, and she hadn’t even a hazy version floating around in her mind. Nothing.

“Oh,” she said dumbly.  “Sorry.”

“For what?” He asked, cupping her elbow with his hand. 

“Don’t,” she pulled her arm from him.

“Okay,” he scooched himself back a bit with a kindness she interpreted as pity. 

“Sorry,” she snapped, knowing she sounded irrationally angry, but completely unable to control her tone.

“S’okay Kate,” he folded his elbows over his knees and picked a white clover flower, spinning it between his index and thumb. 

She lay flat on her back so she could again stare at the sky and not his sweet ridiculously understanding expression.

“It’s not okay. I’m sorry I freaked out.”

“Not your fault.”

“It really is,” she glanced at him.

He cocked his head, “a panic attack isn’t your fault.”

“Maybe not that.”

He tentatively lowered himself alongside her, giving her more space than she now actually wanted. A moment ago she felt too ashamed to have his hands on her, and now she wanted to climb inside him and disappear.  Make up your mind, Kate.

After a bit of silence, he asked, “your friends? Is that what you think is your fault.”

“That was my fault,” she scoffed. “It’s pretty well universally agreed that they died as a consequence of my reckless actions.”

“Who the fuck would agree with that?” His outraged tone astonished her. She found it unnatural to see the fire in his eyes presenting as fury instead of desire. “Someone blame you for what happened? Who?”

Instinctually, she tempered his anger with vague assurances, “it doesn’t matter. It’s stupid. My point was that I don’t need you to tell me that it wasn’t my fault. Can’t change it anyway.” 

He sighed audibly, “I know you’re freakishly good at finding tornadoes, honey, but you don’t got dominion over ‘em. Got some omnipotent power I’m unaware of?”

They quieted, and she tried to not mentally replay her panic attack in a feeble attempt to avoid a self-conscious rut.

“It’s just so beyond fucking humiliating.”

Surprise flashed in his expression, “but, Kate, it’s just me.”

She couldn’t look at his face, so she looked at the sky again, “I don’t want you to see me like that.”

“Beautiful and brave?”

“I’m not sure I’m either of those things at the moment.”

“This is grief and trauma and your body reacting to that.”

“It’s been almost six years!”

“Not a set time for this shit, Kate. So just try to be gentle with yourself, will ya?”

She reached for his hand, grasping at his rough fingertips.

“Hasn’t happened in so long. Just surprised me.

“Do you know what happened?”

“I, um, I saw them. In the truck.”

“Saw who?”

She blinked and tried to say their names.

Tyler filled in the blanks like he majored in it, “oh, Addy and Praveen?”

She nodded.

“Jeb too?” 

Their names sounded wrong in his mouth, but she drew comfort from his familiarity with what mattered to her.  They mattered.

“Mmhm.”

“I figured.”

“You figured?”

“Yeah.”

She almost laughed, incredulous, “you FIGURED that I hallucinated my very dead friends sitting in the backseat of your truck?”

He smirked, “Something along those lines. My brother, he had panic attacks. PTSD from Afganistan.”

“I didn’t know that; you never talk about him.”

“We don’t see each other much; he lives in Idaho. I was only ten when he came back. Brain injury from an IED. I sat with him a lot during his panic attacks.”

She mentally conjured an image of child-Tyler, “that’s an awful lot for a ten-year-old.”

He winked, “well, I was an exceptional kid.”

“I bet you were,” she smiled genuinely, her face now just a foot from his.

“Once we figured out most of his triggers, that helped loads.”

“I think it was the barbecue.”

“What?

“Barbecue.  My mom, when she called, she offered for the team to stay over and said she’d make barbecue, and she said the same thing the day they died,” her speech gradually took on a frenetic pace, “and just like I was on automatic, I started to tell them, Praveen and Addy, you know, and they were there, and then it was happening all over again, and you know the shittiest thing? It’s that really here I am, and they’re not. And did I learn anything, no, I’m just doing it all over again really, just in a truck with you, taking people I care about to their deaths and am I doing the same thing, did I learn a fucking thing? No, no, I just keep doing what I want to do because I’m so goddamned selfish and -“ 

Her chin started to quiver, and she became breathless again when Tyler interrupted, “you’re the least selfish person I know.”

He brushed her hair back from her face, “also the most logical, so listen up: the team was here doin’ our thing before you met us. We’d be here if we’d NEVER met you. But Kate, with you, we just do more good, get more accomplished and generally have more fun. All because YOU are with us.”

Her eyes began leaking again, and she whispered, “want you to be okay.”

“Me? I’m here, next to you, on this gorgeous day. Kate, I’m better than okay.”

  With the shuddering breaths of a child all cried out, “I’m so fucking scared. I just. I don’t want. I don’t want you to die.”

She couldn’t fathom why she would say this out loud, when she barely recognized the truth herself. She felt pathetic and vulnerable, a combination she attempted to avoid at all times.

  “Oh Kate, darlin’ I’m not going anyplace.” He smiled his sweet little smile, soft wet eyes pleading with her, “thought I told you to be gentle to yourself.” 

She leaned her face into his hand, and inched closer to his chest. Tyler wrapped his arms around her pulling her flush against him.  She buried her head in his chest and wept, grateful he didn’t shush her. They let the tears and the little hiccups fade in their own time, his hand tenderly holding her head against him.  Her body relaxed into him, and she didn’t feel out of control. Just absolutely fucking heartbroken and so incredibly exhausted. 

She didn’t remember falling asleep; all she knew was awaking sweaty and confused within Tyler’s embrace.  

“I fell asleep.”

His voice was deep and rumbly, “sure did.”

She rolled onto her back, studying the grey sky, the sun’s blanketed halo in a confusing position.

“Jesus, what time is it?”

“One O’clock.”

“Oh my god.”

“It’s fine Kate.” 

“It’s fine?”

She peered up at his ridiculously handsome face, “where’s the team?”

“Remember, they’re at your moms?  I texted them to meet us there.”

“Are they angry? That we missed an entire day?”

“No one expressed anything other than being thrilled to go to your mom’s house.  Everything fizzled out anyway.”

“Do they know? That I…?”

“Hm? Oh, no. That’s your call to make.”

She kissed his jaw and he peered down at her, “okay?”

She answered him by climbing onto his lap, straddling him. He sat up, clutching her, thumbs rolling around her hipbones.

“Feelin’ better, honey?” 

“I don’t know,” she responded honestly. “I don’t want to think about it right now. Just so tired.”

She brushed her thumbs along the grey hairs at his temples and kissed him slowly, stilling her mind to focus only on his soft salty mouth.

He ended the kiss after a moment and pulled his face back, examining her expression.

“What?”

“Just catching up,” he whispered.

“What does that mean? You don’t want to -“

“I want you now and always,” he pulled her hips tightly into his hard-on to punctuate his point. “Just checking in first.”

He captured her mouth with his, asserting his desire, and they made love in that clover field, just as Kate had predicted at the beginning of this unexpectedly fraught day.

A comfort-cloaked drive to her mom’s house further eased any remaining anxiety. Tyler played Songs: Ohia, Magnolia Electric Co, (for her, she knew) the windows down and warm air whipping her hair around as they distanced themselves from the morning’s pain.

When they approached the signs for her hometown, she turned down the music, “Tyler?” 

Her voice hitched, and she swallowed down tears that threatened a comeback.

“Yeah?”

She summoned all her sincerity, “thank you.”

“Anytime, Sapulpa,” he smiled, “You know that, right? Anytime. Anyplace. Whatever you need. Whenever. I’m all yours.”

She ran her hand lovingly down his arm, shoulder to wrist, “ditto.”

When they pulled up to a stop in the driveway, the sun rested low in the sky.  Besides daybreak, this was Kate’s favorite time of day, even as a child. All the work usually done, the day’s heat assuaged, dog-day cicadas quieted, and the sticky air would a call for iced sweet tea in jelly jars and unchallenging conversations on a creaky porch. 

Tyler and Kate walked together through the cool grass. As they approached the picnic table flush with their friends, everyone turned towards them like flowerheads to the sun.

“What kept ya?” Boone yelled as they got closer.

Tyler began to answer, but Kate cut him off neatly, “I had some trauma hallucinations, an enormous panic attack, passed out for hours and then seduced Tyler in a clover field.”

Tyler held up the grocery bag in his hand, “and we brought chips.”

She only let the awkward silence, shocked stares and open mouths sit for half a minute, “so, is there any of my mom’s potato salad left?”

Lily recovered quickly, “yeah, totally, Kate hand me one of those plates, and I’ll get you some.”

Kate passed her a plate, and Lily smiled as she scooped a generous glob, “sorry bout your panic attack. I got them for awhile back in the day. They suck. Hard.”

“They do. Thanks Lily,” Kate nodded grateful for the generous normalization Lily offered.

Dexter, adept at all types of navigating, added, “It's a good thing you got here when you did. I was going back in for another helping. Your mom could tempt angels with this potato salad.”

“Right?” Kate laughed, “where is she, anyway?”

“I think she was getting watermelon,” Dani said and jumped up from the table, “I’ll go help her. I gotta pee anyway.”

She quickly squeezed Kate’s arm affectionately as she passed and raised her eyebrows at Tyler when she sauntered passed.

“So tell me, what did this clover field seduction include?” Boone queried.

“It includes you shutting the fuck up,” Tyler’s voice was playful, but he shot Boone a disapproving look, as he pulled a plate from the stack and began piling on ribs, brisket and chicken drumsticks.

Boone raised his hands in surrender, “that’s fine, that’s fine. I’ve got an imagination.”

Lily rolled her eyes, “don’t be gross, Boone.”

“What?” he laughed, and with every passing moment, their usual ease of comradery returned. 

While she was conscious that evening, Tyler positioned his hand either upon her shoulder or entwined in her fingers, tethering her to the moments in front of her. At night, he settled in her bed, ready to pull her back should she start to slip into the past. 

He was generous, loving, kind, and patient. So, of course, she didn’t believe it could possibly last. She consciously tried not to stew in the terror of its inevitable end (their relationship, not his life, she isn’t thinking about that.) 

Instead, she attempted to soak in the (likely evanescent) Tyler minutiae: memorizing his specific expressions and predictable reactions, the dust and detergent smell of his soft flannels, his thin pink lips, his stiff jeans that invited lascivious thoughts, and that devastatingly infectious, nearly ever-present smile. 

**AUTHORS NOTES

I saw Twisters a couple weeks ago and came home and wrote this and three other stories. Then I went on AO3 and read EVERYTHING, and saw that others had written goddamned BRILLIANT pieces on the same subject. Discouraged about my own writing quality, I wasn’t going to post it. Since then, I’ve read nearly everything else posted in this fandom and realized that maybe creating and sharing imperfection is part of our fanfic social contract. This is writing potluck. As in, consume < create. In that spirit, here was one of my little fics. Hope it brought you a few minutes of the joy so many others bring me in their writings. 

[homesick4la]

complicated — hamzahthefantastic

3. brown eyes at the entrance

contains: goofy drunk hamzah, quick mention of sex but no actual nsfw content in this one

summary: what do you do when your ex shows up at your front doorstep?

a/n: short but i just wanted to post hi

last part: with you all night

you left hamzah’s apartment that morning feeling more confused than ever. you two ate breakfast together and then you were out the door. he hadn’t even asked to hangout again or talked about breaking the whole “no contact” thing. he simply said he enjoyed the night with you and told you to have a good day.

how could he spend such an intimate night with you and not ask to see you again?

as hard as it was, you tried to be nonchalant about the situation. you could hook up with your ex in a casual way, right?

you call mandy, practically begging her to meet you for coffee.

now you were at your local cafe, anxiously walking up to the table you spotted mandy at.

“y/n! hey!” she said excitedly. you can almost see her eyes analyzing your facial expressions as you walk up to her. “so what’s up? you look like you’ve got something to tell me.”

“oh, it’s definitely..something.” you laugh nervously, “i uh, ended up talking to hamzah last night…”

“oh that’s great!” she interrupts, “did you get any sort of closure?”

“yeah, about that…i actually ended up going back to his place..”

she sighs at your confession.

“and we had sex but listen! i know that it was probably a bad idea but being around him again- it like made my brain go all fuzzy and all common sense went out the window.” you ramble, trying to defend yourself.

“y/n, i told you to go out on the balcony to get closure, not to hookup with him!”, she shakes her head at you. “but i get it. you guys have history, you’re comfortable with him. it’s easy to go back in that situation.”

“exactly! it was so comfortable! it felt like how things used to be. so now, i’m all confused because i thought i had finally gotten over him. and there’s matthew…”

“the guy you said was boring?” she questions.

“he is a bit boring but he’s nice- stable.”

“but what are you gonna do now? keep seeing him?”

“ugh, i don’t know. i guess i should end things with him- because clearly i have not moved on from hamzah yet.”

she nods slowly, deep in thought. “you think you’ll get back with hamzah again?”

“i don’t know,” you let out a harsh breath. “sometimes i think that maybe if we tried again, things would be different. like we’d be able to figure it out this time.”

she smiles softly.

“but today, he didn’t ask to meet again or ask how he could contact me or anything so i don’t even know if he wants to try again.” you shrug your shoulders.

“honestly, y/n, you might want to figure that out before cutting things off with matthew.”

she was right. you didn’t want to ruin a good thing simply for the possibility of getting back with your ex.

after another thirty minutes of catching up over coffee, she reminds you to keep her updated before the two of you part ways.

as you start driving home, your phone rings.

*incoming call: matthew*

“hey babe, you never texted me when you got home?” he questioned, his voice concerned.

you let out a soft sigh, “yeah, sorry- i went to sleep right when i got home.”

“you feeling better today?”

“yeah, yeah i think i just had a migraine or something.”

“good! i was actually wondering if you wanted to get dinner tonight?” his voice is hopeful.

he was kind and cute and he knew what he wanted. how could you say no?

“sure! were you gonna pick me up on the way or should i meet you somewhere?” you ask, a soft smile creeping on your face.

“i’ll pick you up at six. oh- and wear something fancy! i wanna take you to a nice place.”

you agree and say your goodbyes. you were excited to get dressed up and be taken out. you hoped that this dinner would change things- show you how interesting and exciting matthew really is, helping you move on from the chaos of hamzah.

…

the restaurant matthew had chosen was beautiful. the warm candlelight and low jazz music playing in the background creating such a romantic atmosphere.

he sat across from you, retelling a story about a hike he had went on.

you could tell he was making an effort. telling you this story with you in an attempt to share something meaningful with you. feel closer to you.

but as he kept talking, your mind kept slipping into memories with hamzah. you thought of how beautiful his face looked when illuminated by candlelight. the way his smile had always been on the edge of a smirk.

hamzah knew exactly how to pull you into each of his stories. he entertained you effortlessly. just one of his jokes could leave you clutching your stomach in laughter.

“and then i was there, completely lost.” he chuckles slightly as he ends his story.

“oh my god, that must’ve been so scary.” you reply, doing your best to give him energy.

he smiled softly as he looked into your eyes. “that’s what i’ve always loved about hiking though- you never know what adventure’s around the corner.”

“yeah.” you respond, smiling sweetly while all you can think about is how hamzah would’ve made fun of that corny line.

“you okay? you seem distracted.” matthew said, watching you as he took a bite of his steak.

“oh! yeah i’m fine, i just had a long day.” you explain, telling yet another lie.

“i get it.” he smiles, “no worries.”

god, did he have to be so kind and patient? it’d make you feel much less guilty if he was a complete asshole.

no, he was everything you should want. he was sweet, understanding, and so open with you.

but there was no allure. no mystery. no edge. all of the surface-level conversation you two were having was driving you absolutely insane.

“well, i actually had something to ask you.” he broke the silence.

you look up at him, nervously waiting for him to continue.

“i’m going on a trip to seattle next week. it’s completely covered by my job and i have a plus one. i know it’s a bit last minute but i wanted to know if you’d like to join me?”

traveling together would change this “casual dating thing”, into something more serious. something you were definitely not ready for. not yet.

you clear your throat to speak, “can i uh- think about it? it sounds super fun, i just have a lot of school work and stuff…”

he nods. “yeah, just let me know whenever you decide.”

“thank you.” you smile.

after finishing dinner, he drives you back home. he thanks you for the night, explaining what a great time he had with you.

he walks you to the front of your apartment complex and presses a gentle peck to your lips before telling you goodnight.

as you ride the elevator up to your apartment, you decide that you have to end things with matthew. you couldn’t go on that trip with him and lead him on any more than you already have. it was unfair of you to be constantly comparing him to hamzah. the truth was that there nothing wrong with him at all- you were the only person to blame in this situation.

you look up as you start walking toward your apartment to see hamzah leaned up against the wall next to your front door. his head tilted back, eyes closed- simply waiting.

“hamzah? what are you doing here?” you say, your voice coated in shock.

his eyes are low. a goofy smile plastered on his face. he was either drunk or high, or both.

“you look pretty.” you can practically hear his smirk.

you stand directly in front of him. “are you drunk?” you ask as you cross your arms in front of your chest.

“a little bit”, he laughs. “and maybe a little bit high but listen- i just wanted to see you.”

“oh and this couldn’t wait until you were, i don’t know, less…drunk?”

he shrugged, “but you were out with ‘new guy’, what’s his name?”

“matthew.” you roll your eyes at him. “how’d you know i was out with him anyway?”

“mandy might’ve mentioned that you texted her about it.” he grins, “i think watching paint dry might be more exciting than going on a date with that guy. i couldn’t let you go home and just be with that kind of…energy.”

you bit your lip, trying not to laugh. “hamzah, you can’t just show up at my door every time you think i should be around better “energy.”

“oh i can”, he shoots back at you. “it’s actually one of my best skills- showing up uninvited and reminding you of how fun i am.”

“you’re unbelievable.” you laugh, already feeling defeated by his charm.

“and yet”, he pauses. “here you are, laughing. i’ve still got it.” a cocky grin creeps on his face. you can’t help but laugh.

“you’re so full of yourself.” you shake you head, smiling.

“i just feel confident around you, that’s all.”

“oh really?” you tilt your head to the side.

“c’mon, y/n. tell me the truth- was he as funny as me?”

“no.” you admit, rolling your eyes.

“as charming?” he pushes.

“also, no.” you answer.

“then what are we doing here?” he lifts his hands up dramatically. “why are you spending your night with boring ol’ matthew when you could’ve had all this?” he gestures to himself, that goofy smile of his still lingering on his face.

“hamzah. you are being ridiculous.” you reiterate.

“did you mean ridiculous-ly hot and sexy or?” he can’t help but laugh at his own joke.

you shake your head and roll your eyes once again, still unable to contain the smile that seemed stuck on your face.

“you are impossible to argue with.” you tell him.

“is that a yes to me coming in?” he asks, a hopeful look in his eyes. “please? i’ll just sleep on the couch or even, the floor. whatever you want me to do.”

“you came here to sleep on my couch?”

“i just want to be around you.” he whined.

how could you say no to those brown puppy-dog eyes of his? and you couldn’t send him home drunk- that wasn’t safe. you just had to let him in.

“fine. get inside before i change my mind.” you tease as you unlock your front door.

the second you two get inside, he walks over to the couch, flopping onto it and stretching out with a smug look on his face. “see? look how harmless i am?”

“mhm, very harmless.” you say as you grab a blanket.

you start tucking him in with the fluffy blanket until he grabs your hand, looking into your eyes. “thank you for letting me in.”

“yeah, well you’re just lucky i’m too tired to kick you out.” you joke.

“yeah, lucky.” he repeats, his voice soft as his thumb rubs your hand softly.

just from the way his gentle touch and low voice had such an effect on you, you knew you were in trouble all over again.

next part: stay here forever

a/n: next part soon. promise. also i did not proofread bc it’s 2 am and im tiredddd also writing this kinda reminded me of the song memories by conan gray so that is where the title for this part is from yay here’s the song if u wanna listen

[warlocksoup]

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖ AKAASHI KEIJI

undone ⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

CHAPTER FIVE: plans

NOTE: chapter contains adult, nsfw content (minor, not too graphic). will be sectioned off with ── .✦ so you can skip if you would like. MDNI

She’s sitting on the couch, back leaned up against the arm and legs kicked out over the cushions. Akaashi grabs each of her ankles, lifts them, and then sits. He places her legs back down on his lap once he’s there. “What are you watching?”

He keeps a hand placed over the skin of her ankle, and it makes heat creep up her neck.

“A documentary about the Romanov's,” she answers, picking at the skin of her lower lip, not looking back at him.

He hums. “Is it interesting?”

“What do you want, Keiji?” she asks, pausing the film in front of her.

Akaashi gives her this offended sort of look, like he’s unimpressed with her assumption. “What? I can’t ask about it?”

She raises an eyebrow. “You don’t give a shit about the Romanov's.”

“Yeah, but I give a shit about you,” he says, raising his hand just to bring it back down against her ankle.

Her heart twists oddly in her chest. There would’ve been a time where she would’ve basked in any praise given to her by Akaashi, gushed about it to a third party for days. But it’s just started to feel bitter, over time. It makes her uncomfortable, dissatisfied. It sits there in her chest and makes her squirm.

“What do you want?” she repeats to him.

Akaashi sighs, caught. “There’s a graduate reading night tonight. Alisa’s reading this passage from her series of short stories she’s working on about like, grief and generational strife through the stages of decomposition. It’s actually kind of brilliant.”

“Yeah, I know,” she says. “Alisa told me about it.”

He narrows her eyes at her. “She did?”

She’s become Alisa’s new pet, of sorts. Or at least, that’s how she likes to view it. Alisa would probably just call it a friendship. It consists of gleeful squeals and hugs of greeting, like Alisa is overjoyed every time she bumps into her on campus, random texts, and the promises of many, many lunch dates.

And it’s nice, in a way. It’s nice to get Alisa’s attention, to be on the receiving end of her affection. It’s also nice to feel like she has something that Akaashi doesn’t. 

“Yeah, she texts me all the time,” she answers. “She invited me to go the other day.”

Akaashi sits there, looking confused, like he couldn’t have possibly factored this into his scheme. Like it’s a wrench in his plans he can’t account for. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

She shrugs. “I dunno. We weren’t talking about you.”

“You mean she hasn’t brought me up once?”

“Nope.”

“Oh.”

Now, she doesn’t know what to say. She watches Akaashi. “Well, look, don’t take that the wrong way, okay? If she really liked you, it’s not like she’d bring it up to your supposed girlfriend all the time, anyways.”

Which, she figures would be true. If Alisa liked him. If it were even a possibility.

She feels bad lying to Akaashi. She feels bad lying to Alisa and Yukie and Kuroo and Bokuto and every single one of their friends that is under the impression that she and Akaashi are genuinely, truly in love. It makes her feel like something is worming around inside her, carving out her insides and leaving her hollow.

The only person she’s not lying to is Iwaizumi, who, after weeks of nonstop contact, won’t answer her texts. She thinks it’s some sort of karmic punishment.

“I guess so,” Akaashi relents, and then shakes his head. “Anyways, I was gonna ask if you wanted to go to the reading with me.”

“I’ll go,” she says, and then knocks her foot into his arm. “If you finish watching this documentary with me.”

Akaashi smiles. “Yeah, sure. Whatever you want.”

She’s glad the conversation ends there, so she can stop thinking about what a horrible person she is.

⋆⭒˚.⋆ 

She stands at her window, leaning out of it, phone pressed to her ear. It’s out of character, for her to call. It doesn’t make any sense, and she knows that she shouldn’t. But she doesn’t like how it all feels out of her control, now.

She just wants him to talk to her, again.

“It’s Iwa. You missed me. Leave a message.”

She inhales, and the cold air that enters her lung cools her hot head. There’s a dial tone. “Hey,” she says into the receiver. “I’m sorry to call you, I know it’s insane. But I just hadn’t heard from you recently, and I dunno, I just wanted to make sure we’re good, y’know? I dunno. I miss you, in a weird way. You are important to me, even if I’m not really great at acting like it. I dunno. Call me back, if you want. If you don’t, that’s okay, too. Anyway, I’m sorry.”

She hangs up, and feels even worse.

⋆⭒˚.⋆ 

Under the fluorescent lights of a university meeting room, Alisa stands behind a podium and reads. Her hands are shaking as the clutch to the paper, but her voice flows smoothly, clearly, confidently.

She’s sitting besides Akaashi, row four of fifteen, in an uncomfortable plastic folding chair that forces her posture to be straight.

Oddly, she feels transfixed, watching Alisa and listening to her words and falling into some sort of trance. Akaashi was right. It is sort of brilliant, the way Alisa can string together a sentence and make it sound like more than it is. How she can write something foreign and make it sound familiar. How her voice soothes you into compliance.

Her eyes water.

Akaashi reaches over and places a hand on her thigh.

He squeezes, and doesn’t let go.

She can feel it as the spell breaks. It snaps.

⋆⭒˚.⋆ 

“It’s not working,” Akaashi says, forehead rested against his hand.

They’ve been in his car for five minutes, and they haven’t gotten anywhere. They’re still in the university parking lot, sitting right across from the liberal arts building, and she doesn’t say anything. The only right thing to say is the truth, so she can’t say anything at all.

“She hardly even looked at me,” Akaashi laments, and he’s correct.

After the reading, Alisa rushed over to her, gave her a hug, thanked her for coming. And then regarded Akaashi with a forced smile and a polite, ‘and you too, Akaashi,’ like he was an afterthought. Not ungrateful, not rude. He just wasn’t her priority.

It’s hard to deny.

“I dunno what to tell you, Keiji,” she says, and it’s true. She should tell him that it’s time to call it, take this opportunity to bow out gracefully and bring an end to it all. But she can’t. She just can’t make herself do it.

They sit in silence. That’s when Alisa appears, jacket zipped up to her chin and a hat pulled over her ears, standing directly across from them on an empty sidewalk, waiting for a ride.

She hopes Akaashi doesn’t notice her. But of course, he does. Akaashi wouldn’t ever not notice her.  

“Fuck,” he complains. “There she is.”

“Ask her if she wants a ride,” she suggests half-heartedly, shrugging. “Maybe she’ll think it’s considerate.”

Alisa sees her, then. She has a clear view from her spot on the sidewalk. She smiles brightly, and waves. And she can’t help but wave back.

“No,” Akaashi says. “Can I kiss you?”

She snaps her head in his direction. “What?”

He leans closer to her. “Just one kiss. I wanna see how she reacts, if it makes her jealous. If that doesn’t do it, then nothing will, and then we can give up.”

Her throat feels dry. “Are you sure you wanna do that?”

“It’s just a kiss,” he shrugs it off. “It’s not that big a deal to me, if it’s not to you.”

But it is. It is everything to her. She almost screams at the suggestion that he could just kiss her, and it would be nothing. That he could do something like that, and it wouldn’t completely ruin her.

She tells herself to say no. That it is the right thing to do, by her and by Akaashi. That saying no is her only option, and that she shouldn’t said no from the start, so really, this is the only way to make it right.

But, she always takes what she can get. She’s always going to say yes, when it comes to him.

She nods her head. “Fine.”

Akaashi is all she can see, his face illuminated by the dim, yellow streetlights as they sit in the front seats of his car. His eyes are wide with panic, hands slightly shaking with misdirected nerves. He’s staring straight at her, and it makes her feel small. “Is she still looking?”

There’s a stubborn strand of hair that falls in front of his forehead. She reaches out, and uses the tips of her fingers to brush it off to the side. “Yeah, she’s still looking,” she tells him, arm dropping back down to her side. She doesn’t have to look over her shoulder to confirm it. The other girl hasn’t once looked away this whole time; she can feel her stare follow her with every slight movement she makes.

“Should I do it?” Akaashi asks, leaning in towards her with the slight uptick of his words. “Now?”

“Yeah,” she confirms with a nod, “do it now.”

Akaashi nods, and flicks his eyes in her direction. She shakes her head, and reaches back for him, her thumb gently nudging his jaw back in her direction. “Don’t look at her,” she instructs. “You wouldn’t look at someone else before you kiss someone.”

If it were real, being the unsaid implication.

If it was real, the way he pretended to feel about her. If it was real when he held her hand and rested his head on her shoulder. If it was real, and he wasn’t in love with someone else, instead.

Akaashi nods, and his eyes are fixed onto hers, following her instruction almost too well. She has to swallow the lump in her throat as Akaashi leans into her, his hand slowly rising to cup the side of her face. And she knows that she agreed, she knows that she’s gone along with everything so far, but for the first time since it’s started, she’s filled to the brim with regret.

Because when Akaashi’s blue eyes flutter shut, and he tilts his head to make it fit against hers, it feels real. It all feels too real.

Akaashi kisses her, and it’s everything she thought it would be. He breathes new life into her from the second his lips hit hers, and she feels like every cell in her is hot, burning. And she has to tell herself, over and over, that it is fake. That it’s not real. That she can’t dig her fingers into his hair and mark his neck.

He’s not hers. He’s not hers.

She thinks about breaking away from him, but tells herself she’ll let him do it first. He can be the one to end it.

But Akaashi doesn’t let her go.

His tongue slips across her bottom lip. He tastes like fresh mint, and he is not letting her go.

── .✦

His hand reaches up to cup the back of her neck, and he pulls her deeper into him. And she would give everything to know what he’s thinking when he leans in closer to her, ribs pressed against the center console of the car, arm reaching around her waist to get a better grip on her.  

Her head feels like it’s fried, and conscious thoughts are slowly slipping away. She tries to get a grip on them, wanting to be aware of where she is, and what exactly she’s doing. But Akaashi reaches a hand up to tangle in the roots of her hair, and he grabs a fistful of it, tugging at it lightly, and any hope of retaining a proper string of thoughts is gone.

Her body’s operating on desire now, moving in tandem with Akaashi’s, completely on its own.

His mouth is wet and warm, and her hands work their way up his chest, sliding back over his shoulders, looping around his neck. Akaashi lets out a sharp breath of air through his nose, and nibbles on her bottom lip.

A moan falls from her. Soft, and barely there. But it’s enough for Akaashi. He detangles his hand from her hair, and places each of them on either side of her hips, pulling her out of her seat and into his lap. His hands stay there, digging into her skin, holding her down.

Her mouth moves from his, to his jaw, leaving wet, sloppy kisses along the outline of it, and then down the side of his neck, teeth occasionally nipping at the skin. She reaches the crook of his neck, and Akaashi’s hands go to the buckle of her jeans.

She doesn’t stop him. She doesn’t stop him when he rips them open, and yanks down the zipper. She doesn’t stop him when he slips his hand inside, one finger drawing careful outlines on the outside of her underwear.

Instead, she kisses him again, moaning into his mouth.

She feels like an animal. She feels uncontrolled, and almost vile. She doesn’t know how she got there, or what the fuck Akaashi is thinking. But he touches her, and she doesn’t want it to stop.

── .✦

But Akaashi pulls away, forehead leaned against hers, and against her lips, he asks, “Is she still watching?”

And her body goes cold.

Everything inside of her feels like it is collapsing  as she pushes off of him, his hand jerking away from her. She sits in the passenger seat with a screwed up expression, shaking hands trying her best to button her jeans back up.

“Wait,” Akaashi says, but she doesn’t look back up at him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

But it doesn’t matter what he meant to do. She doesn’t care. She throws her jacket on haphazardly and throws the car door open. Akaashi calls her name, but she slams it behind her, and takes heavy, angry steps away from it, desperate to get away from the heat of the car as quickly as she can, not really caring what direction it is she’s heading it.

And Akaashi does not follow her.

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please note if you do not have your age displayed somewhere and you’re on the taglist, i didn’t include you in this chapter

[rootedinrevisions]

In the Wings: Part 6

SUMMARY: What starts as a casual dinner invitation turns into an unforgettable evening filled with candid conversation, stolen glances, and a spark neither of you can deny. As Glen opens up about his busy life and surprising feelings, you both realize that maybe, just maybe, there’s something worth exploring between you.

OTHER PARTS: PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3 I PART 4 I PART 5

WARNINGS: Implied alcohol consumption. Otherwise just fluff.

WORD COUNT: 4.5k

TAG LIST: SEE COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell (himself and the characters he's played)

Top Gun: Maverick (Hangman, Rooster, possibly others soon)

Marvel / MCU (Bucky Barnes as of now, but possibly others soon)

WWE / Wrestling

You’re scrolling through emails, catching up on work notes for the next day, when your phone buzzes unexpectedly. Glen’s name flashes on the screen. A call, not a text. A call from Glen. You pause, your stomach flipping a little as you answer.

“Hey there,” his voice is warm and casual, yet somehow it carries a hint of hesitation.

“Hi, Glen.” You try to keep your tone steady, but you can’t help the little spark of excitement.

There’s a short pause on his end, then, “So, I was wondering… would you like to grab dinner tonight?” His words come out in a slightly rushed, almost nervous tone like he’s throwing the offer out before he second-guesses himself. “I thought it’d be nice to get out of the hotel for a bit. What do you think?”

You blink, caught off guard. “Dinner? Just… the two of us?”

“Yeah,” he replies, and you can hear the smile in his voice now. “Just us. If you’re up for it, I can pick you up around seven?”

Your mind races. It feels like a date—the tone, the way he’s asking—but he hasn’t exactly said it is a date. There’s an unspoken question in the air, one you’re almost afraid to answer too quickly. But the warmth of his voice draws you in, the idea of spending time with him outside of work too tempting to pass up.

“Sure,” you finally say, trying to sound as calm as possible. “I’d like that.”

“Perfect. What room are you in? I’ll come by and grab you,” he says, and the ease in his tone gives you a little more confidence. You tell him your room number, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

“Great, I’ll see you at seven,” he says, and you can almost picture his grin on the other end of the line. “And, uh… no rush or anything, but wear whatever you’re comfortable in. I’m just excited to spend some time together.”

You end the call, setting your phone down as you let out a deep breath. A soft smile spreads across your face. Whether it’s a date or not, it feels like something more. You’re already thinking about what to wear, feeling a little thrill at the idea of the evening to come.

You stand in the bathroom, brushing the last bit of blush across your cheeks. Your reflection looks back at you, polished yet understated, with soft, loose waves falling just past your shoulders. You wanted to go for a look that felt natural—something effortless but still flattering, that would hopefully mask the nerves buzzing just below the surface.

Taking a small step back, you take in the whole outfit, from the fitted black turtleneck top down to the skirt you’ve chosen. It’s a soft, flowy piece with a black base, decorated with a delicate pattern in muted red and dusty pink. The colors are subtle but add just enough contrast to make the outfit feel a little special. The high-waisted cut gives you a smooth silhouette, and the gentle flare of the skirt swishes lightly when you move, giving it an elegance that feels comfortable, not overdone.

You smooth your hands over the skirt’s fabric, fingers lingering as you imagine Glen’s reaction. There’s a thrill in that thought that catches you off guard, sparking another wave of butterflies.

You glance down at your black, closed-toe ankle-strap heels, adjusting the strap one last time. They’re comfortable enough to walk in but add that finishing touch, elevating the outfit without making it feel too dressed up. You take a step back, eyes returning to your reflection, feeling the weight of anticipation settle in.

Taking a deep breath, you try to calm the rush of thoughts swirling through your mind. It feels silly, standing here getting so worked up, but something about this night feels different. Special even. 

There’s a part of you that wants to know exactly what he’s thinking if he’s as aware of this shift between you as you are. You can feel it—the quiet thrill of wondering where the evening will lead, what might unfold beyond the ordinary moments you’ve shared on set.

With one last steadying breath, you nod to your reflection, silently telling yourself, You’ve got this. You pick up your clutch, adjust your hair one last time, and head to the door, ready to see what tonight might bring.

The knock pulls you from your thoughts, making your heart skip a beat. You smooth down your skirt, take a steadying breath, and walk to the door. As you open it, Glen stands before you, leaning casually against the doorframe with a soft smile that sends another ripple of nerves through you.

He’s dressed simply but so effortlessly put together. His caramel-brown, short-sleeve ribbed polo fits him just right, the collar slightly open at the neckline, adding a relaxed charm to his look. The warm tones suit him, accentuating the natural tan of his skin, while his light beige trousers complete the ensemble in a way that feels both casual and sophisticated—perfectly in sync with the easygoing confidence he seems to radiate.

Glen’s eyes sweep over you for a brief second, taking in your outfit with a look of quiet admiration that he doesn’t try to hide. “Wow,” he says, voice low and genuine. “You look great.”

You feel your cheeks warm, caught off guard by the directness of his compliment. “Thank you,” you reply, managing a small smile. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

He laughs, an easy, relaxed sound that breaks the tension in the air. 

“Ready?” he asks, motioning for you to lead the way as you step out of your room and let the door click shut behind you. You feel his hand move to your lower back. His fingers, are warm and steady, and it’s such a small gesture, yet it somehow heightens the electric thrill of the moment.

As you walk toward the elevators, the conversation flows effortlessly, dipping in and out of lighthearted topics and banter. There’s something different in the air tonight—an unspoken awareness between you, as if each of you senses that this dinner might mean more than either has put into words.

In the elevator, there’s a comfortable silence, but every now and then, you feel Glen glance your way, and when you finally meet his eyes, he chuckles, slightly sheepish. “Sorry. I’m still kind of stunned that you said yes,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck.

You laugh softly, looking down as you speak. “I don’t usually get asked out by my… clients? Coworkers?” You raise an eyebrow, playfully struggling with the right word.

“Yeah, maybe we should just call it co-workers,” Glen jokes, nudging you gently with his shoulder as the elevator doors open.

The two of you step into the lobby, and as you catch sight of the small crowd gathered just outside the glass doors, nerves flutter in your stomach. A few fans, mixed with paparazzi, wait with cameras ready, and the sight of flashing lights makes your pulse quicken.

Glen notices your reaction and looks down at you, his warm, steady gaze bringing you a bit of comfort.

He extends his arm with a reassuring smile. “Just stay close to me—I’ve got you.”

You loop your arm through his, grateful for the support as the two of you step towards the exit. Glen takes the lead, guiding you through the revolving doors. The noise swells as you step outside, the murmurs and clicking cameras growing louder. Your instinct is to keep your head down, focusing on each step to make sure you don’t trip in your heels.

“Hey, Glen!” a fan calls, and he lifts his free hand to wave, offering a friendly smile in response. You feel the press of the crowd around you tighten, and as the paparazzi lean in with cameras, one of them inches closer to you.

Suddenly, your hand slips from Glen’s elbow, making you instinctively pull back. Glen glances over his shoulder, quickly catching sight of you just a step behind. Without a second thought, he reaches back, his hand finding yours and pulling you closer. The gesture is so natural, but it feels grounding, like an anchor in the whirlwind of people and flashing lights around you.

“Could you guys give us a little space?” he says, his tone polite but firm as he shields you from the encroaching cameras. His hand is warm and steady around yours, and you find yourself focusing on that touch as he guides you forward, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease.

He steers you toward a sleek, black rental car waiting at the curb. Still holding your hand, he lets go only to open the passenger door, stepping slightly in front of you to shield you from the cameras. Once you’re safely inside, he closes the door and walks around to the driver’s side, brushing off the crowd’s lingering attention with an air of calm.

As he slips into the driver’s seat, he glances over at you, a small, reassuring smile on his face. “You good?” he asks, his voice softening now that it’s just the two of you again.

You give Glen a warm smile, nodding in response to his question. “Yeah, I’m good. Thanks for the rescue back there.” You manage a small laugh, still a little breathless from the experience outside, but grateful for his steadying presence.

“Anytime,” he replies, flashing you a smile as he starts the car, his gaze briefly flickering to you before he pulls out onto the road. The city lights stream past as the quiet hum of the car settles you, the fast-paced energy of the crowd outside fading with each block.

“So, I hope you’re in the mood for Italian,” Glen says, his voice casual but with a hint of excitement. “I found this place not too far from the hotel that everyone’s been raving about. Figured it was worth a try.”

Your face lights up at the mention of Italian food, and you nod eagerly. “Italian is always a good idea. And if it’s somewhere you’ve heard great things about, then I’m definitely in.”

He chuckles, giving a satisfied nod. “Glad to hear it. Thought I’d try and make a solid impression,” he teases lightly.

You raise an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Oh? So is this you pulling out all the stops?”

“Just a few of them,” he admits, his eyes twinkling as he glances over at you. “Gotta keep some surprises up my sleeve.”

The relaxed, warm atmosphere inside the car makes your nerves start to dissolve, replaced by the fluttery anticipation of what the rest of the night might bring.

As Glen pulls up to the restaurant, the warm glow of the exterior lights welcomes you. He parks smoothly and shifts into park before turning to you with a bright smile. “Ready for a great meal?” he asks, his excitement evident.

“Absolutely,” you reply, your own anticipation bubbling up as you glance at the charming exterior.

He steps out and walks around the car, opening the door for you.

“After you,” he says, extending a hand to help you out. You take his hand, feeling a spark at the touch as he gently guides you out onto the sidewalk.

Glen hands the keys to the valet, then rests his hand on your lower back as he leads you toward the entrance. The feel of his touch sends another flutter of nerves through you, but it’s a comforting sensation amidst the excitement.

Inside, the restaurant is cozy and inviting, filled with the rich aroma of garlic and herbs. The dim lighting casts a soft glow over the elegant decor, with wooden beams overhead and warm, rustic tables that give the place a homey feel. You can hear the soft clink of glasses and the quiet hum of conversation, punctuated by the occasional laughter from nearby tables.

The hostess greets you with a warm smile and checks the reservation list. “Right this way,” she says, gesturing for you to follow her.

As you walk through the restaurant, you notice the decor—framed photographs of Italy lining the walls, lush green plants peeking from every corner, and soft Italian music playing in the background.

She leads you to a somewhat private table nestled in the back, away from the hustle and bustle. Glen reaches for your chair, pulling it out for you with a charming smile. “Ladies first,” he says, and you can’t help but blush slightly as you take your seat.

After you settle in, the hostess hands each of you a menu. As you both peruse the menus, the ambiance of the restaurant wraps around you like a warm embrace. The flickering candlelight casts dancing shadows, and the tantalizing aromas from the kitchen make your stomach growl softly.

“I think we should start with an appetizer,” you suggest, tapping the menu lightly. “What do you think about Bruschetta or maybe Caprese?”

Glen’s eyes widen slightly, and he shifts in his seat, giving you a nervous look. “Uh, about that…” he hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck. “I have this weird thing about cheese. I don’t really eat it.”

You blink in surprise for a moment but quickly brush it off with a smile. “That’s okay! How about we go with something else then? Stuffed Mushrooms, maybe?”

Glen looks visibly relieved but hesitates again, a sheepish smile creeping onto his face. “Are you sure it’s not weird that I don’t like cheese?”

“Not at all,” you assure him, leaning forward slightly. “Everybody has something unusual they don’t like. It’s what makes us human.”

He nods a spark of curiosity in his eyes. “Okay, then what’s your weird or unusual thing you don’t like?”

You chuckle lightly, enjoying the playful banter. “Well, I’m allergic to agave, so I don’t drink tequila. It’s not that I don’t like it; I just can’t.”

Glen feigns a dramatic gasp, placing a hand over his heart. “Oh no, this thing between us might not go well if I can’t share tequila with you!” He laughs, the sound bright and infectious, and you can’t help but join in.

“Maybe you’ll just have to find a different drink to buy me,” you suggest, your heart feeling lighter with every moment shared.

“Perfect!” Glen grins, his previous nervousness fading as the conversation flows naturally. “It sounds like we’ll still have a great time, even without the cheese and tequila drama.”

As the laughter continues, you feel the initial butterflies settle into a comfortable rhythm, excited to learn more about each other as the evening unfolds.

As the waitress arrives to take your appetizer order, Glen’s energy seems to spike, and he leans in slightly, excitement shining in his eyes. 

“So, I’ve been meaning to tell you about a couple of projects I’ve signed on for. One’s a romantic comedy! Can you believe it?” His voice carries a hint of incredulity, and you can’t help but grin at his enthusiasm.

“I can totally believe it,” you reply, feeling a rush of excitement for him. “I thought you were great in Anyone But You and Set It Up, so I’m sure you’ll do amazing in this next one!”

Glen’s eyes widen in surprise, a smile spreading across his face. “Wait, you’ve seen those? Really?”

You chuckle, feeling a bit sheepish. “I might be a little partial to a good rom-com.”

“Then you’ll love this one!” he says, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied grin. “I can’t wait for you to see it.”

“What’s it about?” You ask, genuinely thrilled for him.

“It’s about a guy who has to fake a relationship with his childhood friend to convince his family that he’s settled down. It’s got a lot of heart and some hilarious moments.” He chuckles, rubbing his hands together as if he can hardly contain his excitement.

You nod, feeling the warmth of his enthusiasm wash over you. “That’s fantastic! I can already picture you in it.” Then you remember the offer you received a few days ago, a flutter of nerves mixing with excitement. “Speaking of projects, I actually got an offer for a role last week. It’s a lead hair and makeup position for a new Nextflix  drama series that’s going to start filming next month.”

Glen’s eyes widen with genuine happiness. “Really? That’s incredible! I knew you’d get something big soon. You deserve it!” He leans back in his chair, a broad smile spreading across his face. The way he celebrates your success makes your heart flutter. It’s rare to find someone who is not only talented but also genuinely supportive of others.

“It’s still in the early stages, but I’m really excited about it,” you say, your voice brimming with enthusiasm as you share the details. “The story revolves around family dynamics, and I get to work with some pretty big names. I can’t wait to start!”

“That’s amazing! I can already see you nailing it,” he replies, the admiration in his voice clear. “I mean, you’re already so talented, and I can’t imagine how great you’ll be in something like that. Have you met any of the cast yet?”

You shake your head, feeling the adrenaline of both excitement and nerves. “Not yet! I’ll be meeting them for the first time in a few weeks once we wrap up filming this. I hope they’re as cool as they seem.”

“They will be,” Glen reassures you, his gaze steady and encouraging. “With your talent and charm, I bet you’ll fit right in. Just be yourself!”

His confidence in you is so uplifting, and as the conversation continues, there’s a seamless flow between the two of you, punctuated by laughter and shared stories. You find yourself reveling in this moment, feeling a connection grow deeper, not just over shared experiences but also in the way he genuinely seems to care about your success. It feels effortless, and you’re grateful for the lighthearted atmosphere, the way you can both share and celebrate your journeys with one another.

As your conversation continues to flow seamlessly, the waitress returns to the table, her notepad ready. “Are you two ready for the check?” she asks, glancing between the two of you.

Glen nods, a relaxed smile on his face. “Yes, please. Is it going to be one check or two?”

“One check,” he replies without hesitation, a hint of confidence in his voice.

You raise an eyebrow, feeling a spark of protest. “Wait, are you sure? I can chip in my part. It was my suggestion to get the stuffed mushrooms, after all.”

Glen shakes his head firmly, a playful glint in his eyes. “No way. You’re my guest tonight. Let me treat you.”

You cross your arms playfully, trying to feign indignation. “But I don’t want to take advantage of you!”

“Trust me, you’re not,” he insists, leaning back slightly and folding his arms with a smile. “Just let me do this.”

With a reluctant sigh, you finally relent, your lips curving into a small smile. “Fine, but only if I can treat you next time.”

Glen grins, the light in his eyes growing brighter. “Deal.”

As the waitress sets down the check, Glen quickly reaches for it, pulling out his card with a triumphant flourish. You watch, amused, as he takes care of the payment, your initial protest fading into a sense of warmth at his gesture.

As the dinner draws to a close, you stand up from the table, feeling the slight rush of excitement that comes with the end of a wonderful dinner. Glen moves closer, his hand reaching for yours, intertwining your fingers effortlessly. A warm flutter runs through you as he leads you toward the exit, his touch grounding and reassuring.

Once outside, you both pause near the valet station, and his hand finds its way to your lower back once more. You glance up to find him smiling down at you, his expression genuine. 

“I’m really glad you came tonight,” he says, the warmth in his voice making your heart skip a beat.

You return the smile, feeling a lightness in your chest. “I’m glad I came too. This was... really nice.”

The valet arrives with Glen’s car, and as he takes the keys, he glances back at you. “So, are you ready to go back to the hotel? Or if you’re up for it, I was thinking we could grab a drink somewhere nearby. There’s a place I’ve been too that’s really good not far from here.”

A drink sounds nice, a perfect way to extend the evening just a little longer. You nod, a smile creeping onto your face. “A drink sounds great.”

“Awesome. Let’s go!” he replies, his excitement contagious as he opens the car door for you. You slip inside, feeling a mix of anticipation and comfort as the evening unfolds before you, knowing that the night isn’t quite over yet.

Arriving at the bar, Glen parks and comes around to open your door. You’re both laughing as you step onto the sidewalk when a small group of fans spots him, excitement sparking in their expressions. A few call his name, while others shyly approach, asking for pictures. 

He turns to you, clearly torn between spending time with you and not wanting to disappoint them. You smile, placing a hand on his arm. “Go ahead, Glen. I’ll head inside and grab us a table. Take your time.”

His shoulders relax as he gives a nod, gratitude shining in his eyes. “Thanks. I won’t be long.” 

You share a quick smile before turning and making your way through the bar’s entrance, sneaking one last look back to see him greeting fans and posing for pictures.

Inside, the place is cozy with warm lighting, chatter filling the space as groups of friends and couples laugh around tables and booths. Towards the back, you spot a secluded booth that seems perfect, and you settle in just as a waitress comes by with a drink menu.

“Just a water for now, thanks,” you say with a polite smile, skimming the menu and glancing toward the door now and then. The comfortable ambiance of the bar mixed with the anticipation of the evening fills you with a relaxed excitement as you wait for Glen to join you, eager to see where the night leads next.

A few minutes pass, and then you spot Glen stepping inside the bar. His gaze scans the room briefly before landing on you, and a smile tugs at his lips as he heads over. Sliding into the booth beside you, he settles close enough for his knee to brush yours under the table, a comfortable closeness that brings warmth to the quiet corner.

“Thanks for saving me a seat,” he says with a wink, picking up the menu.

You smile back, feeling the flutter in your stomach return as the two of you start looking through the drink options together. The waitress soon returns, and you both place your orders before she leaves again, leaving you and Glen alone in the soft, dim lighting.

For a moment, there’s a shared, content silence between you as he leans back, looking completely at ease, his arm draped casually along the booth. He looks at you, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes that surprises you, and he lets out a small breath before speaking.

“I’ll be honest,” he begins, his voice softer than before. “I wasn’t really looking to get into a relationship. I didn’t think I had the time…or really the right lifestyle for it with everything going on. Between filming, traveling, and all these upcoming projects—I just thought it would be too complicated, you know?”

You nod, sensing the weight behind his words, and he continues, his hand moving absently along the edge of the table.

“But with you…” He pauses, meeting your gaze directly, a small smile creeping up as he says, “I don’t know, it just feels different. Like maybe it could work if we both want it to. I really like you, and I’d like to see where this could go.”

A mix of excitement and nerves bubbles up in you, and you find yourself nodding. “I really like you too,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “And to be honest, I’m a little scared to put myself out there. But…being around you just feels right.”

Glen’s expression softens, and he reaches to cover your hand with his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Maybe we don’t have to put a label on it just yet. We can take it slow and keep it just between us for now—see where things go.”

You smile, feeling warmth spread through you at his words. “I’d like that.”

The drive back to the hotel is quiet, both of you savoring the comfortable silence that’s settled between you. Glen occasionally glances over, a subtle smile pulling at his lips every time your eyes meet. When he finally parks, he walks around to open your door, taking your hand as he leads you back inside and up to your room.

Outside your door, you turn to him with a smile, feeling a bit breathless from the night. “Thank you for such a great time tonight,” you say, your voice soft.

He smiles, moving just a little closer as his hand rests lightly on your hip, grounding you in the moment. “I should be the one thanking you. It’s been a while since I’ve had a night like this.” There’s a brief silence, and he looks at you, his eyes soft. “Would you want to do it again sometime?”

You feel your heart skip, and a smile spreads across your face. “I’d like that.”

For a second, you wonder if he’s about to say goodbye and head back down the hall. But then, with a warm, almost tentative look, he leans in. His lips meet yours in a soft, gentle kiss, one hand lifting to cup your face, his thumb brushing lightly along your cheek. You let your hand come up to rest against his chest, kissing him back as your eyes flutter closed, lost in the warmth and softness of the moment.

When he pulls back, there’s a look in his eyes that mirrors your own—a mixture of excitement and contentment, and the quiet promise of something more.

You both share a warm smile, the quiet energy between you lingering as Glen steps back, hands sliding into his pockets. You turn to your purse, reaching for your hotel room key card, when you feel him lean in once more. 

Before you can react, he brushes another gentle, lingering kiss to your lips, leaving you breathless all over again.

“Goodnight,” he murmurs, his voice soft and sincere, eyes meeting yours for one last moment. 

You smile, feeling the warmth of his words settle over you, and with a quiet, “Goodnight, Glen,” you slip inside, closing the door with your heart still racing, holding onto the sweetness of his kiss.

[latenuitrambles]

Flufftober day 11

Kaveh X Reader

Imagine an accidental meetup with Kaveh In the tavern while he’s drunk

A/N: Not proofread, God I haven't written in so long law school is hard but I do wanna write something for all my fav charas for October. Only fluff No Tw maybe like mention of booze?? but not really.

Kaveh who is once again shit drunk in the tavern. Something about a client and their unreasonable demands and lack of creative freedom he had for this job.

Kaveh who tried to order another drink, slurring barely even able to get the words out “One more Boss!”, his manuscripts and sketches strewn about all over the table, truly what a pathetic sight he must be right now!

Kaveh who is then told he can’t have any more his tab is already too high for tonight, but he doesn’t have any money left that damn Alhaitham took it all saying it was rent for this month. He hates that bastard always egging him on!!

Kaveh who suddenly hears someone say from behind him as he’s in his squabble with the tavern owner, “I’ll cover his tab for tonight.” He turns around expecting it to be Alhaitham or one of his other friends. “I’m really not in the mood for a lecture right now just cut me some slack, ok? I’ve had a tough day Just let me drink some more!”

Kaveh who then sees you instead standing there with a little smile on his face. He feels embarrassed, his face getting red “Uh I thought you we-re someone …else, I’m soh so-rry for lash-ing …out.” Oh god he’s still slurring his words how embarrassing. How could he let a you pay his tab god did he look so pathetic right now that even strangers were taking pity on him??

Kaveh who sees you had some money to the owner. Then turning around maybe because you read the expression he has on his face you say to him, (your voice sounds so sweet and nice?) “Hey, don’t worry about it ok? But if you want you can take me out for coffee someday in return?”

Kaveh who is dumbstruck he’s never had a girl hit on him like this before?? He is probably blushing even more now, and he can see a small smile forming on your face too, waiting for his reply.

Kaveh who then gets walked back (well walking was probably an overstatement he was tripping) to his house with your help, you both talking along the way, giggling. You told him how much you admired his designs, and it struck him how genuine and amazing you seemed. As you both reached his (fine Alhaitham’s) house, he thanks you for dropping him and honestly everything tonight. You both smile and say goodbyes and, and you turn starting to leave.

Kaveh who mustering up some courage, calls out to you, “Coffee sounds good, Tuesday 5pm it’s a date?”. You turn around your face a mixture of bewildered and flushed, holding back a giggle, “It’s a date then.”

Archons he was still slurring when he said that wasn’t he.

(As always criticism is appreciated (and I'm begging for it) I'm not the best at dialogues so I try to keep it short as possible, but any suggestions would be nice!!) Here's the prompt list I followed its from last year in case you wanna you it. Credit for it goes to the original maker.

[temptacioun]

yandere ! dabi

requested by anon

prompts: “if you don’t kiss me i’ll slit your fucking throat.”

it started like any ordinary day.

you were sitting in an office room, ready for a job interview and completely unaware of the bank that was being robbed next building. and while you hadn’t seen him, he definitely saw you.

so fucking pretty in your little blouse and pencil skirt, he wanted to rip a hole into that pantyhose you wore and make you cry pretty tears for him. it started like this, with attraction and tight pants — he followed you home later, though he stayed in the dark of the shadows. for now.

dabi wouldn’t explain his sudden interest, shoved the nagging feeling to the back of his brain and countered with the fact you just had a sweet ass. and as he watched you for days on end and learned your routine, his obsession only grew. it wasn’t love he felt, but a need to possess you in every way possible. maybe it was a need to destroy your seemingly perfect life, to watch you crumble to the ground with nothing left.

one by one he picked off your friends, threatened to kill them and left burn marks where nobody would see — and you could only wonder why everyone suddenly stopped talking and hanging out. your weekends grew lonely and boring, and left an emptiness inside that you couldn’t explain.

it was one of those weekends when he finally decided to show himself, sprawled out on your couch like he owned the place while he listened to the shower running. he’d take you home tonight.

you couldn’t even scream when you saw him, it was like your brain went off and left you to face the danger on your own. you’ve seen him before, when they showed the news on tv and you were already certain this was how you’d die. they’d find you days later, burned to a crisp.

“took ya’ long enough.” his raspy voice reached your ears and you shook, knees feeling wobbly while you stared at him with wide eyes. when he stretched, and sauntered over to you like it was completely normal. a hand against the wall and trapping you there, you couldn’t even beg for your life.

the male chuckles, reaching out to tip your head up with the tip of a knife he’d stole from a certain blonde. “i’m not gonna kill ya. but you’d probably wish i did.” you’re not sure if he was serious or not but the threat alone was enough to keep you meek in his presence. he leans closer and you squeak, eyes squeezing shut instinctively and he relishes in the fear that radiates off of you.

his lips hover just short above yours, you can feel his breath fan over your cheeks — you can smell the faint scent of cigarettes and burnt flesh and it almost makes you want to puke.

“if you don’t kiss me i’ll slit your fucking throat.”

and the threat is enough to make you comply.

[daydream-cement]

Beautiful Girl

Larissa Weems x Reader

Comforting Larissa so she feels as beautiful as you know she is.

Author’s Note: Short little oneshot! Enjoy!

“Sweetheart!!” Larissa held her dress by the bodice as she called out for you. The dress was incredibly fitted and there was no way for the blonde to keep it up without it being secured to her form. “I need you to come zip me up!”

You straightened your suit jacket in the mirror and grabbed your watch, beginning to fasten the wristwatch when you exited the bathroom. The sight of Larissa in the silver sequined gown caused your watch to tumble to the ground. You reached down quickly, scooping up the watch, eyes never leaving the blonde’s backside.

The headmistress was all too busy checking her hair and makeup in the mirror to even notice you becoming entranced with her body. Hearing the watch hit the floor, the headmistress knew you were now in the bedroom, so her voice rang out once more, “What do you think, darling?”

“Good- It’s good-“

“Good?” The compliment wasn’t enough to keep the shapeshifter’s negative self-talk at bay. She placed a hand to her stomach and began twisting and turning, a frown growing on her face as her eyes scanned her own body. “I just don’t know… Maybe I’ll wear something else.”

“No. You look- good in what you have on.” Your eyes narrowed at Larissa’s lack of appreciation for her own body. Your hands found the shapeshifter’s zipper, holding the frustrated blonde still and preventing her from shifting about to find minor flaws in her form.

“I’m just not- I don’t think I can pull this dress off…” The headmistress stood still with a huff, her eyes making contact with yours in the mirror, "Is it too much, honey?"

"No, not at all.” In order to make your point, you began zipping up Larissa’s dress, trapping the blonde inside the fabric, the full hourglass of the shapeshifter’s figure becoming more evident. Slipping behind the blonde, you rested your hands on Larissa’s hips, giving them a firm squeeze before winding them around her middle, “You look great."

Larissa accepted her fate, adjusting the bust of the dress, teeth biting at her bottom lip as she stared at her own breasts, "I...dunno, there's- They're out there." While Larissa had grown to love her body more than ever since starting to date you, this was one of those days that she simply couldn’t shake the hatred she had for her body. Tonight her body would be out on full display, making the blonde grimace at the thought.

Your hands moved back to your wife’s hips, turning her around to get a glimpse at Larissa’s front side with your own eyes. You started from the bottom, working your way up, eyes lingering on the large expanse of cleavage exposed by the glittering gown, "Mmhm, but they look fabulous."

“Oh...” The blonde began to pout, hands coming to fidget with your suit, straightening out bits of fabric nervously, “I just don’t feel very beautiful tonight, darling...”

“I’m sorry that that is the case tonight, my beautiful girl. Is there any way I can possibly change your mind? Kiss the places you don’t feel are beautiful?” Taking Larissa’s hand and preventing her from messing with the fabric of your suit any further, you pressed a kiss to the blonde’s palm, beginning a trail of kisses up her forearm, turning your gaze to look at Larissa when you reached her elbow. “I want to show you that you are beautiful. If not to yourself, then to me. My opinion ultimately doesn’t matter, but I hope that you might believe that what I’m saying is true.”

Raising a hand to Larissa’s cheek, you continued speaking your mind, needing your wife to know how much she was truly loved, “There are days where I do not feel beautiful, and you always always make me feel like the most gorgeous in the room- in the world, even. I want to do the same for you as well, baby. Anything you need, I will give to you tenfold, you know this.”

With a shaky breath, Larissa pulled you to her, hugging you to her chest with a crushing force, “Your words helped an incredible amount, my sweet darling. I don’t know how I ever survived part of this life without you.” Pulling from the hug, Larissa’s hands came to cradle your face, pressing kisses all over, leaving lipstick marks in her wake, “I love you so much.”

You meant to respond, but you were somewhat delirious from the affection from Larissa, not conscious of the fact that your face was covered in Larissa’s lipstick. Your love struck gaze brought bubbling laughter from the shapeshifter. Before you could see her face, Larissa took your face in her hand and reached for her phone on the dresser nearby, needing to take a picture of you.

The shapeshifter gripped your chin between her thumb and forefinger, placing one last kiss to your forehead. With her voice sweet as ever, Larissa held up her phone, snapping a photo of you, “Smile for me, baby.”

Not only did those words of affirmation help, but your love struck gaze made the blonde’s heart feel so full, the frustrations of her dress began to fade. She even distracted herself by removing the lipstick from your face, the comforting proximity with you beginning to calm the shapeshifter.

The event went wonderfully. Your comfortingly possessive grip around Larissa’s waist the entirety of the social event. The blonde received more compliments that night than she ever had before, but none of which meant as much as the little whispers from you throughout the night. For once, you both even stayed until the after party, Larissa perching herself on your lap for most of the evening, your smug and satisfied smirk maintained for each second Larissa was attached to you.

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