#and he talks sometimes how he feels anything bad that happens to the car is punishment for him wanting it all

[beesorcery]

google how do i tell my dad that the reason i keep bringing up elon musk's transphobia isn't that i've got gen z political tunnel vision that makes me blind to his "innovation" in electric cars but because i am desperately crying out for you as the father of a trans child to feel just as outraged and angry as i am that that man has so much power

[inkskinned]

what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?

i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?

a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?

in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.

girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.

there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.

for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.

something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.

is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.

most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."

a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.

[izzy-b-hands]

This was supposed to be a short, cheap, easy fill for 'nightclub', in which Jack is established as 'that friend' who always has a wild new business idea and relies on friends who love him to help provide seed money for each venture (and to keep him aloft in the in between when unfortunately for him it all inevitably falls apart. Bc he's a good ideas guy, but not always a good executioner or maintainer of his ideas guy)

Now it's almost 3k words and includes: (spoilers for today's au-gust fill below the cut)

-Jack stealing Izzy's classic car (I only kind of mention what kind, but in my head it's for sure a late 60s or early 70s model Alfa Romeo Spider or Spider Veloce) and it being established that this isn't the first time Jack has stolen Izzy's car for funds for a new idea (because Izzy might find him frustrating, but Jack is a friend of Ed's and so Izzy does his best to try and help Jack too)

-the fact that Izzy isn't rich enough to be able to afford this hobby easily; he's been grinding and working and saving up for it (an even bigger expense bc the implication is for this story everyone is currently living in the States, so he had to win an auction and then pay to import it over from Europe AND then pay for the repairs and restoration, whether done by himself and Roach or hired mechanics)

-the property Jack wants to use for the nightclub being in fucking Medora, ND, because I've been thinking about ND again and couldn't think of a worse place to try and set up a nightclub.

-it's also implied to be nearly winterish weather for the East Coast where Ed, Stede, Roach, Izzy (and usually Jack lmao) are, and definitely bad winter weather for the Midwest/ND (bc in the years prior to my moving to CT, I remember talking abt and showing blizzard pics the same months that folks out this way were cold for sure and maybe starting to get frosty, but not always to the degree of what ND would be getting hit with lmao.)

-Jack is driving the stolen car there. An Alfa Romeo Spider. In the winter. It would be funny if it wasn't just plain dangerous, but that's where his buyer is, you see.

-they've finally made contact with him only for Jack to immediately be manipulative about coming back/the police being involved, and him refusing to turn around. But he acknowledges the good hard work and money Izzy and Roach have put into the car, and promises that they'll get half the payment for the car back from him.

-The rest of it is his seed money to start the club. Cuz he'll already be out in ND at that point, so he can keep going on with his plan easily enough. Two birds one stone, all that jazz

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

(Don't You) Steal My Thunder

my tyler owens playlist 🤝 inspiring fic titles

Tyler Owens x fem!reader  7k words

summary: Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's set on getting you on his good side. And the more you get to know him, the less you can resist.

a/n: i had to research sm car stuff for this it's not funny. i now know exactly how to describe a truck bed though, so. that's fun.

again, my inbox is wide open <33 i don't guarantee anything, but you can always come talk to me or request smth

masterlist | twisters masterlist

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met.

He prints his face on t-shirts, writes his autograph on mugs, comes up with ridiculous sayings ("Not My First Tornadeo" and "If you feel it, chase it" are really just the tip of the ice berg) and most importantly, he costs you the best shots of tornadoes every goddamn time.

Tyler Owens is a problem.

And Tyler Owens seems to have actively decided to make himself a problem too.

Which would be fine, if he flipped you the bird or told you to fuck off or threw his paper towels at you. Unluckily, those are rather examples of what you have done to him. Because it's not fine, not at all - no, Tyler Owens has decided that it's not enough to be in your way all the time, he has to seek you out and rub your nose in it.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He's cocky and he's arrogant and he's entirely too full of himself. He brags too much and calls you "weather girl" too often. He gets under your skin more than you would ever admit.

And, as if all of that isn't enough - Tyler Owens is the very epitome of handsomeness.

It's like god didn't just have a good day when he created Tyler Owens, no, god must have still been in the post-haze of the best head he'd gotten in his whole immortal life when he'd created Tyler Owens.

Because Tyler Owens has the body of a greek god and the face of a Hollywood actor. He's not a pornstar, he's who pornstars worship. He's the Prince Charming little girls dream of and the Christian Grey grown women lust for.

Tyler Owens looks like everything you've ever wanted.

But he's just such a fucking asshole.

You wish you could say you didn't care. You'd love to be the kind of woman who didn't even acknowledge him. But you're not. You're not. You watch his videos when you can't sleep, you chuckle when you happen to overhear his jokes, you ogle his back when he's turned away from you. Sometimes, you get so lost in staring at him that you realise too late when he turns back around, and then you have to act unbothered when he grins his fucking grin at you. That's mostly when you flip him off, desperately fighting to ignore the heat in your cheeks.

Not like it stops him. You honestly feel like it only spurs him on.

Something has to seriously be wrong with him. It's not his face. But something is seriously wrong with him, you're sure of that.

Something has to be wrong with him. No sane person would ever go tornado wrangling. No hate to the rest of his crew - they're nice, you've managed to hold a few pretty normal conversations with them here and there - but none of them are sane either.

Storm chasing is different. You keep your distance. All you need are a few well-placed photographs - and those you can get from a rather safe number of miles away. The weather channel doesn't care about close-ups (not really, anyway). They want something to show the people on their comfortable couches, up in New Hampshire or Maine, so that all of them can say to each other "What poor folks, wouldn't wanna live there" and nod in pity as they switch the channel to watch another blockbuster.

You're just doing your job.

The only problem is that it's hard to do your job properly when there's always that fucking red truck in the way, driving down empty roads right into the heart of the tornado. And because no one on the news wants people to see that and go "Well, can't be too bad if there's still cars on the streets!", in the last few months - ever since you'd volunteered to move back to Oklahoma 'So that we've got someone right in Tornado Alley and don't have to fly people out there every time' - the weather channel has only shown the first few minutes of tornadoes forming. The rest of your pictures and videos lie abandoned in the trash file on your laptop. Except for a few - a very, very few, very, very good pictures of Tyler Owens and his Tornado Wranglers. But those won't ever see the light of day either.

You'd be damned if you let anyone know that while Tyler Owens is busy disturbing your actual work, you're busy taking pictures of him shooting fireworks into tornadoes. Pictures that would make for some damn good headers (if you hadn't buried them far, far down your gallery).

This time is no different. You get a few amazing shots of the tornado forming – surely an EF2, maybe even an EF3 - before you settle in the driver's seat again, your window rolled down and your camera hung around your neck as you push down on the gas. Then, a few miles further, you get even better shots of the full tornado, of the first few minutes of destruction, right there, in the middle of an empty field.

And as always, of course, just as the tornado takes on full form, you spot that familiar red truck through the lens of your camera. It speeds down the pavement right in front of where you’ve swerved onto the side of the road and you snap a few pictures, just because you’ve got the trigger right underneath your finger. Honestly, something about that dirty red paint against the grey skies just looks too good not to capture. But then the truck comes closer and closer and starts to slow down and you let your camera sink.

Tyler has his window rolled down already when he stops the car. There’s that annoyingly handsome grin on his lips, the one that makes you want to slap him across the face.

“You’re too far away, weather girl”, he calls out above the rumble of distant wind and thunder. “The good pictures are down that way.”

“The good pictures are right here.” You lift your camera at him. “Maybe you just need to update your equipment.”

Tyler’s grin widens, but before he can throw another of those obnoxious retorts your way, Lilly’s voice rings out through the car.

“Hey, T, looks like it’s changing course. You should hurry.”

His eyes are still glued to yours, still glued so firmly to yours that it makes your skin crawl. You can’t look away, couldn’t possibly look away. Tyler Owens might just be a cocky asshole, but you’re only human. And the weight of his gaze on yours is enough to keep you stuck in place, clutching at your camera.

“We’re on our way, Lilly”, he drawls without looking away from you. “See you around, weather girl.”

The rest of the pictures you take land in your trash file with all the other pictures of the last few weeks. You’re laying in bed, your laptop propped up against a pillow, the empty plate from dinner on the mattress next to you as you sort through today’s work. That’s the good thing about the time difference – you’ve got until seven to send the channel the day's results.

By nine, you’ve showered, put on a dress you feel confident in and settled on one of the chairs at the local bar. You’ve been telling yourself you need to get out a little bit more – you’ve been living here three months now and you haven’t really made any friends so far. To be fair, your job has kept you out and about most of the time. You’ve spent more hours at gas stations to fill up your tank than you have in your own home. But now you’ve decided to put an end to that. You're a young woman in a new town, you can meet more people than just the cashier at the local supermarket.

So for the past twenty minutes, you’ve been nursing a mojito at the counter and talking to the bartender. She’s nice, she’s your age, she’s extroverted enough to keep sidling up to you after every time she has to excuse herself to do her job. That, and she tells you she’s grown up here, so she knows most of the people around. She’s just serving another customer – a long-haired, brown-eyed, hat-wearing country guy who’s already shared a smile or two with you – when someone rests their arm on the countertop next to you.

“Didn’t expect to see you here”, he drawls, all low, deep Southern accent and you recognise his voice before you’ve even tilted your head up and looked at him. His grin drips down onto his words and wraps itself around your mind.

Tyler Owens isn’t just annoying – he’s unbelievable. He's unbelievable and he’s here.

“So you’re stalking me now”, you say, as drily as you can possibly manage. You've been doing that a lot around him. Dead-panning everything. Schooling your expression into fake neutrality.

"I'm here all the time, weather girl", he grins. "If anything, you're stalking me."

You snort, but it's rather unfunny when you think of all the videos you've watched, hours after they'd been livestreamed, cuddled up in your bed until midnight just to stare at his face. He's not that far from the truth.

"In your dreams, Owens", you say anyway, dragging your eyes back towards your almost empty cocktail glass. You wrap your lips around your straw and drain your drink entirely. What you say and what you do, none of that matters in the end. All of this is just show. Every conversation you've had with Tyler Owens in the last three months has been nothing but a performance. Other than your name, you don't think a single sentence out of your mouth has been honest. Not when it comes to him.

"Let me buy you a beer" is the only answer you get.

His grin widens when you look back up again - so cocky, so unbelievably cocky.

"I don't drink."

You push your glass an inch further down the bar top. Tyler raises his eyebrows. Fuck, someone really needs to kick him in the face. You can't keep having all these little heart attacks whenever he's close enough that you could touch him if you wanted.

Not that you want to.

"You're drinking right now", he says. You rest your palms against the bar top and blink at him.

"I don't drink with you."

He lets out a chuckle, one of those deep ones that settle right in your chest and make it hard to swallow.

"Just this once?", he asks and in all honesty, for just a second there, you actually consider giving in. He's too handsome for his own good. You really need to get it together. He's an ass (what an ass, goddamn). And he's insane. He's an insane ass. Sometimes you have to remind yourself of that - those times like now, when his piercing eyes and his kissable lips and his rugged stubble and his broad, broad shoulders and his drawled voice overshadow everything else.

"Don't you have some livestreaming to do?", you ask, hoping it still comes across just as sarcastic when you're the slightest bit distracted by how gloriously tight the sleeves of his flannel are. "Go chasing tornadoes, not me."

His grin widens inexplicably further. You're sure that if you were in a comic, there'd be a lightbulb flashing above his head right about now.

"Well", he drawls, "if you feel it..."

"Don't you do that shit to me, Owens."

He's raising his eyebrows again, raising his eyebrows as you clasp your hand around your empty glass so hard your knuckles turn white. But you're serious. Just as you'd lost yourself in the view of him, that angelic, sinful view of him, he'd gone and reminded you why you were so adamant to keep your distance. If you feel it, chase it. Ridiculous. Obnoxious. He's an arrogant, know-it-all, suicidal job-wrecker. He's the guy with cameras pointed at him everywhere he goes. He signs mugs and selfies and hats and shirts and bras. He's the reason you haven't gotten a single un-edited shot of a fully formed tornado in the last three months.

"You're not a fan of my catchphrase, weather girl?"

He can't even pretend to look wounded (even though he tries) with how big the grin on his lips still is. You stare right at him, dead-eyed and unflinching.

"I'm not a fan of you."

Lies slip off your tongue so easily by now that you wonder when you'd become morally compromised enough to not even care anymore. It must've happened somewhere along the way, sometime between the first conversation you'd had with him and the one you're having with him right now.

"You wound me", he grins, his palm pressed to his chest.

For the first time tonight, you allow yourself to grin back at him.

"I try."

With that, you slip off your chair and wave the bartender goodbye. You're already two steps away when Tyler calls after you.

"I'd still buy you a beer."

"I'm still not drinking with you", you call back. You don't turn around again. You just make your way back to your car and mark the evening as a half-successful night of socialising on your to-do list.

...

You see him again first thing the next day. Of course. Because there's no tornadoes without the Tornado Wranglers on their tail. By now, you're used to it. You wave at Dani as they come back out of the store at the gas station you're waiting at. They've got both arms full of coffees and for a second, you consider offering your help, but then you hear Tyler shout something out of his car and you suddenly don't feel any desire whatsoever to get up. You've sat yourself down in your truck bed, your camera slung around your neck and the radar on your lap. If all goes right, you're hoping for a tornado to form a little to the east from here. And as much as you dislike Tyler Owens, the fact that he's here soothes your nerves. Where he goes, there's sure to be tornadoes close by.

The few times you hadn't seen him had never ended well for you. You'd missed an EF3 your second week here just because you'd followed the wrong hunch. Meanwhile Tyler, of course, had been in the middle of it.

This might just be the one singular situation that you welcome seeing his red truck around. As long as you can manage to overtake him on the road after.

It's not that you need to be faster. You don't need to reach the tornado first. You don't even take the same way as him most of the time. He wants in there, you just want a sensible picture. Still, you can't help but feel a pang of disappointment every time you hit the brakes and jump out of your car, miles away from the actual cell as Tyler speeds down towards it. You've been telling yourself that it's because he ruins your pictures. It kind of is.

"Hey, weather girl!"

You let out a resigned breath as you tilt your head up and squint against the sun. He's still in his truck, his window rolled down, his elbow propped up against the car door.

"What do you want, Owens?"

Your fingers itch to reach for your camera. It's a visual, him in that fucking car, leaning out of his window with the sun peaking out behind him. But you can't, you can't take a picture of him this openly. Even if you were to argue that it's just the light you'd wanted to capture.

"To give you some advice", he calls out, his lips pulling into a grin. You raise your eyebrows at him. "East isn't gonna work out. Wind's changing. Go south."

He throws you a mock salute and hits the gas before you can say anything else.

Not that you'd been about to.

Instead you just curse to yourself, jump off the truck bed and throw your treacherous technology into the passenger seat with a little too much vigor. Fuck this. You sit at the steering wheel and stare out at the sky for exactly two seconds before you make your decision. Then you start your car and drive south.

You may not be a fan of Tyler Owens, but you've long since admitted to yourself that this man has got a gift. He has an unbeatable instinct when it comes to storms. And sure, you have your fair share of knowledge, but in the end, you're a photographer, not a meteorologist. You won't miss a day's work just because you're too proud to listen to Tyler.

You're a little further behind, but you can spot his truck and guess that he's driving straight on into the cell today, so you take a right and decide to try your luck with the side of the tornado. Not being right in its path doesn't sound too bad anyway.

You actually manage to snap a few well-placed pictures. You don't know what Tyler's doing, but it seems like he's not shooting random shit up the cell today. You'll watch the stream later - you're just the slightest bit curious now what's happening with them. Maybe they're doing some old-school chasing? Or maybe they're doing a challenge. Maybe Tyler is driving blindfolded. At this point, who knows.

It's good for you though. It's a considerable tornado today, an EF2 at least, and you only spot Tyler's red truck again when the cell moves further down the fields, away from him. It doesn't look like it's gonna disappear anytime soon. Maybe today's your lucky day.

Half an hour later, you're sure you've got at least a dozen pictures of the fully formed tornado, long touched down and without the red truck in the way.

You're just packing up your things, already sifting through the photos on your camera, squinting against the sunlight, trying to both tug the zipper of your bag closed and hit the right buttons at the same time when Tyler pulls up next to you.

"You look busy, weather girl", he says, already grinning that damn grin again.

"I am", you say - truthfully, for once. You let go of your bag and lower your camera. You're hesitant, but... "Thanks for the tip."

"Anytime", he grins. "Just do me one favour."

You already know this can't be good. Not with that cheeky look on his face. But he'd just saved you from chasing hot air (quite literally), so he deserves a little treat. And you don't want unsettled scores with Tyler Owens.

"I want to know what favour that's supposed to be before I agree", you say anyway, because with him, you can never be too careful. And in the end, you're only willing to do so much. (Though for him, you'd already do a lot more than you'd admit. A lot more than you hope he's aware of.)

"Let me buy you a beer", he says, and for once, he sounds serious.

The memory of yesterday night flashes before your eyes, of those same words at the bar. With him so close, way too close - with that grin and that stubble and that voice and those shoulders. You cross your arms and stare at him.

"If you're livestreaming this, I'm gonna sue your ass so hard."

He just lets out a chuckle and raises his hands in surrender.

"Cameras are off, I swear."

You stare at him for another silent ten or so seconds. At him in that fucking truck that looks just a little too good in your pictures. At him and his fucking face. That fucking face that you certainly wouldn't mind sitting on, if just to shut him up.

God, he's asking you to drink something with him. He's asking to buy you something to drink with him. You're stupid.

You're so, so stupid.

"Alright, cowboy", you say, uncrossing your arms and reaching for the handle of your car door. "I'll humour you."

...

You're in the bar again by nine that night, the same way you had been the day before. You're wearing a different dress and there's a different bartender, but you've ordered the same mojito and chosen the same place to sit.

Only this time, you're actively watching the door. And when Tyler strolls in, you've got to shift around in your seat and cross your legs. You don't even pretend you're not staring. You just ogle him openly. Not for the first time ever - you'd checked him out very obviously when he'd strutted towards you to introduce himself three months ago - but definitely for the first time in a while. And god yeah, he's a hunk of a man, alright. If you had your camera here right now...

But you don't. So instead, you drop your eyes to his feet (brown leather boots), drag them up his legs (blue jeans), over his chest (red checkered flannel), over his face (god, what you wouldn't give-) and finally rest them on the cowboy hat on top of his head.

When he's close enough to hear you, already grinning, of course, probably at how you're actually sitting there in the same spot as yesterday and hadn't just lied to his face about coming here, you raise your eyebrows at him.

"A cowboy hat?", you ask, your voice as unbothered as you can possibly manage (even though you're very, very, very much bothered right now). His grin only widens.

"Ladies love country boys", he drawls with a shrug.

"Now that's straight out of a song", you say. "You're getting lazy, Owens."

"A song?", he asks. "No, that's an Owens Original."

You pull your eyebrows even further up.

"Ladies love country boys? Trace Adkins?"

"Nope. Not familiar."

But his grin tells you that he's lying. He's a liar. He knows very well where he got that line from. And he knows just how easily he got under your skin with his simple trick. As if his face isn't enough already.

You just shake your head and turn away from him.

"Put your money where your mouth is, Owens. Buy me a beer."

...

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's also a great conversationalist.

The hours fly by as you're talking. One beer turns into two, then into an uncountable number of soft drinks. You both agree that you need to drive home, neither of you is willing to risk a run-in with the police. You need your drivers license for your jobs.

Tyler talks to you about the pictures you've taken today, then about the pictures from last week. He laughs when you blame him for ruining half of them and almost spits out his coke when you slap his arm for laughing at you. He tells you about his crew, about the people they've helped with the money from their dumb t-shirt sales. You think you hate him less by the minute. You're not sure if you're okay with that. But he gets you talking about your childhood and your parents, about school and college and about how you've wound back up here in Oklahoma. That effectively distracts you.

That, and how his cocky grin morphs into a genuine smile the more you open up.

Not that you didn't love the cocky grin. You did, just a bit. As obnoxious as it was. But the way he smiles at you all sweet has you melting right in your spot.

It's not the first time you realise that beneath all that rough exterior, there beats a heart of gold. You've known what those t-shirt sales are for, that he offers food and water after a tornado hits a town, that he carries the injured out of the ruins of their houses and helps find lost dogs. The more you've been around him in the past weeks, the more you've seen of his soft side. Of the way he cares and supports. But in the end, it always is easier to go back to the status quo - to fall back onto mindless snark and fleeting first impressions.

You'd clung so desperately to the image of him as this arrogant, smug, holier-than-thou influencer god for the sole purpose of keeping your own sanity. Because you'd known that without despising him, you would fall head over heels for Tyler Owens, and you just couldn't have that.

But now, with his arm brushing against yours and his hat discarded on the bar top and his smile, that beautiful, beautiful smile on his lips...

"Five bucks", he drawls, already reaching for his wallet.

"What?"

"Five bucks says there won't be a tornado tomorrow."

You raise your eyebrows at him, your glass hovering in mid-air between the two of you. You'd meant to take a sip, but now you're setting it right back down on the bar top.

"You're shitting me."

Tyler just shakes his head. He's grinning again, but it's much softer this time around.

"The winds are looking great. The forecast says it's gonna be the best conditions for tornadoes we've seen in the last six weeks. I've heard Dexter talk about how we're probably gonna see an EF4 tomorrow", you tell him, even though you're sure he's well aware of all of it. This is Tyler Owens, for god's sake. He knows about the winds and the forecasts. He knows that his crew is making preparations already.

His grin only grows. And it's smug now. It's cocky now. It's everything you thought you'd left behind during this conversation. He looks like the Tornado Wrangler again, like the guy who fucks up your pictures and makes your job harder than it already is.

It takes you a second too long to realise why.

"Dexter said that on our live", he grins, as if he can't quite believe what he's hearing. You physically recoil from him. "Do you watch our streams, weather girl?"

"No", you breathe, rigid and frozen, shocked to your very core. No, no, no, no, this cannot be happening. This cannot be happening. You'd... You hadn't made that mistake. He hadn't got you to make that mistake.

"Dexter talked about tomorrow on our live", Tyler says again, straightening his back and grinning down at you like he's just uncovered the lost grave of Cleopatra. "Only on the live. You watched our stream."

"No", you mutter, your eyes wide and your mouth dry, so dry. You need to drink. You need to drink so badly. "No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did. You watched our stream, honey."

The petname runs down your spine and clogs your senses. Honey. Oh, he's an ass, he's an asshole! But you're on the spot, you're on the spot and he's calling you honey, honey, honey. You can't do anything but watch as he leans closer to you, grinning down at you like it's his one true purpose on this earth, like he wants to eat you alive.

"I'd say you watch our streams pretty regularly, weather girl."

You swallow hard and clasp your hand around your glass.

"Yeah?", you breathe, hoping against all hope that your voice sounds somewhat innocent. You're sure it doesn't. You know it doesn't. You probably sound as guilty as you are, but... Hope dies last. Hope always dies last. "Why would you say that?"

"Just a hunch." He shows off those pearly fucking whites for you. "Call it an instinct. I'm usually right."

He is.

He's right now. He's right usually.

Him and his fucking instinct. His goddamn gut feeling about tornadoes, always right all the fucking time. He's like an Oklahoma Jesus. The first coming of Tornado Christ.

Fuck him.

Fuck him.

"I'll take your bet." You drain your glass at once. "Give me your five bucks, Owens."

You don't think it'll work. You don't think he'll let you distract him. You don't think it'll be this easy to stop his vile teasing. He's not the type of guy to let something go. He's not the type of guy to let anything go ever. But he looks at you and he grins at you and he trails his eyes over your face and then he opens up his wallet and pulls out five dollars without another word.

He puts the bill flat on the bar top.

But when you go to reach for it, he pushes his fingers down.

"The price just went up", he says.

You raise your eyebrows and let your hand sink again. Tyler is absolutely unpredictable. You should've known.

"The price just went up?", you repeat. He nods. "What more do you want to bet?"

He's closer now, closer all of a sudden. He's too close, close enough to make your breath hitch. He's looking down at you with that cocky, cheeky grin, with his weirdly green eyes, with his three day stubble and his generally much too symmetrical face. You can't do anything but look back up at him.

"A kiss", he says. Simple as that.

A kiss.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He is. Truly. He's annoying and way too full of himself and much too presumptuous. Tyler Owens is the only man who would ever do something like this. The only man who'd bet a kiss on whether or not there will be tornadoes tomorrow.

Especially with that forecast.

The one that says a tornado is basically inevitable.

"Alright", you say. He may be Tyler Owens, the guy with an infallible instinct - but he is also Tyler Owens, the guy who's been doing his hardest to get under your skin. This time might not be any different. For all you know, he's bluffing to rile you up. "I'm in."

...

At eleven the next day, you're standing next to Dexter in resigned silence.

"I really thought today was gonna pan out", you mutter.

"It should have", Dexter frowns, tapping against the screen in his hands. "It should have worked out. The conditions should have been perfect. Everything's been building the last few days."

"But it collapsed this morning."

You turn your head and watch as Tyler comes to a stand next to you, arms crossed, eyes locked on the clear sky up above. He tilts his head to you and grins. Fuck, he's wearing his goddamn hat again. It's like he doesn't even try to be normal.

"Hey, weather girl", he greets. "Ready to cash out your bet?"

You shake your head at him. No, you're not giving up this easily. You never give up this easily.

"The day's not over yet, Owens. You haven't won 'til midnight."

...

You spend most of the next hours sitting in your truck bed, reading a book you'd thrown into your backseat weeks ago and had so far neglected. Lilly hands you lunch around two, Dani offers you a coffee around five and Boone pipes up here and there to joke about the wasted day. Around six, Dexter comes by to let you know they're calling it.

You still have another hour to go. By seven, it'll be too late to send your pictures anyway. But you want the hour. You need the hour.

You still haven't decided what to do about Tyler. About Tyler and his fucking bet.

He's been loitering the whole day, walking by, joking around with his crew, livestreaming a spontaneous q&a just because.

And the more minutes tick by, the harder it is to keep ignoring that you've most definitely lost the bet. Even though you do your best. You read, you check your phone. You stare at your radar. You stare at the weather forecast. You talk to Dexter and Dani and Lilly and Boone. You take a few pictures of the sky. Then you take a few pictures of Tyler, standing some feet away from his truck and looking out at the clouds.

It's only when two of three Tornado Wranglers cars are disappearing down the road, when Tyler Owens suddenly stands in front of your truck bed, that you put down your book and face reality.

"No tornadoes in sight", he says, instead of 'Hello' or 'How are you' like any other person would.

"There's still six hours left", you reason. Even if only one of those is relevant for your job today.

"You really want to wait out six hours to prove I'm right?"

"You're not right", you argue. It's fruitless, it's stupid, it's unreasonable. But... "Not yet, anyway."

Tyler raises his eyebrows at you, lets out an amused chuckle and leans against the side of your truck bed.

"Alright, so we wait."

You eye him from the side. He's fucking leaning against your truck, staring out at the sky, talking about six hours. Goddamn. He can't be serious, can he? His crew is already gone. They've disappeared into the descending sun and he's talking about waiting another six hours. Leaned against your car.

"Fuck's sake, Owens", you sigh, scooching over to the right. "At least sit down then."

You don't talk much at first. You just open your book back up again and try your hardest to ignore that he's even here at all, barely two feet away from you on the other side of your truck bed. If you stretched your leg, you'd hit him right in the hip.

It makes reading close to impossible.

Even though he's not doing anything at all. He's just sitting there, one arm propped up on the side board, that goddamn cowboy hat on his head and his feet hanging off the opened tailgate. It's almost worse that he's not doing anything.

That he's just sitting there and watching the sky change.

You give up on reading entirely when you realise that you've finished exactly five pages in half an hour. Instead, you put your book back in the car, pull out your bluetooth speaker and two water bottles and offer Tyler one of them.

You don't even ask him what music he wants to listen to. You just put on your country playlist and roll with it. By the twitch of his lips, you know he certainly doesn't mind.

Another half hour later, it's starting to get chilly and you're beginning to grow bored of the music. Tyler sitting next to you makes you fidgety, somehow, and you can't really enjoy the songs you usually love so much. So you switch to a podcast. You don't ask Tyler if he minds. He's free to go anytime.

Around eight, the sun starts to set, and the chill turns into an unpleasant cool. You hadn't really expected to be sitting out here so long. You're not prepared for the temperature to drop. You're wearing shorts, for god's sake, shorts and a top. It's summer in Oklahoma - you don't know how Tyler even manages to survive in his long jeans. You certainly wouldn't.

But now you're a little jealous, to be honest. He doesn't look cold in the slightest while you're fighting off shivers. You can feel your hands trembling already.

You really should've brought a jacket. But who brings jackets in 30 degree summer weather?

So instead, you just resign yourself to your fate and rub your hands along your arms. Anything to get some warmth into your body.

For the first time since you've sat back down, Tyler turns his head and looks at you.

"You're cold", he says, eyes raking over your arms and the goosebumps you'd gotten.

"Great observational skills, Sherlock Holmes", you deadpan, even though he doesn't really deserve that. He had so far left you pretty much alone. "A+ on that assignment."

Well, it's hard to break bad habits.

Tyler just chuckles, shakes his head and pushes off of the truck bed. You watch, eyes narrowed, as he walks back to his own car, opens up the trunk and- pulls out a blanket?

Your hands have sunken down to your lap all by themselves by the time he's standing in front of you again, holding out the blanket.

"For you, Watson", he grins as you slowly, carefully take the blanket from him. You mutter something along the lines of a soft 'Thank you' before you wrap the blanket around your arms.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's also the very definition of "Tough on the outside, soft on the inside". Sometimes, you think the word 'angelic' works for more than just his divine looks.

Your eyes are glued to him as he sits back down next to you and looks out at the darkening sky with that signature grin on his lips, like he knows that you're watching him and enjoys it more than he should. That doesn't deter you though. For the very first time. You don't even stop staring when he turns his head back to you. You don't even stop staring then.

You just look at him until his grin crumbles. Until he's smiling that smile from yesterday night, the one that has your heart squeezing together and then exploding in your chest. You think you could stare at that smile for the rest of eternity and never feel sated.

"What?", he asks, his voice so soft it makes you swallow. Your lips part, but there's no words on your tongue, none in your throat. They're stuck in your chest somewhere, wrapped around your heart so tightly that you can't let them go even now. So you just press your lips together, wrap your blanket tighter around yourself and say:

"So I'm Watson, yeah?"

Your podcast is long forgotten by the time the sky turns dark. So dark that you make Tyler climb into your car and turn on the lights. You're comfortable in your blanket, you don't feel the need to move.

It's around ten when the blanket isn't enough anymore.

You tuck your hands underneath your top, but that only helps for so long. A few minutes later, you're trembling again, trembling even though you're pulling the blanket as tightly around you as you possibly can. Tyler raises his eyebrows when a particularly heavy shiver runs down your spine, one of those that come and go within three seconds.

"Come here", he says, shuffling in his spot and motioning for you to move over to him. You don't really think about it. It's more of a reflex as you fumble the blanket off of your body, scooch over to him, settle yourself against his side and sneak your feet under his thigh. He tugs the blanket back up to your chin, tucks it in behind your back and wraps his arms around you.

Tyler Owens wraps his arms around you.

And he's so fucking warm you literally almost moan. God, you hadn't actually realised just how cold you'd been.

"Damn, you're freezing", he notes as well, just as you nestle further into him and hum in agreement. He's like a living heater right now. You'd like to just crawl inside of him and suck up all his warmth. "You should've told me sooner."

"I didn't tell you at all", you mutter, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. He smells good. He smells so good. Earthy, musky somehow. You're tempted to turn your head and bury your nose in his shoulder.

Instead, you just satisfy yourself with what you can get. Fuck, he smells so good. He smells just like you'd thought he would, like country and rodeo and thunderstorms. He smells like falling into bed at the end of a successful chase. He smells like more. You want more.

You want more of Tyler Owens.

"Are you sniffing me?", he asks suddenly, but he sounds so amused you can't even bring yourself to feel embarrassed. You just open your eyes and grin at him, tilting your head so you can look up at him.

"What if I am?", you ask, if only to hear that breathless chuckle fall from his lips. Oh, those lips. You're in trouble. "Are you gonna call the cops on me?"

"I could never."

"Yeah, you better not, cowboy", you mutter, eyes dropping to his lips when he grins. He's so close. He's way too close. "There's like thirty things I could call the cops about on your channel."

His grin grows until he's showing off his teeth, glinting against the low light of the leds in your car. He's closer now.

"So you do watch our streams, weather girl."

His voice is so low and he's so close, so close. Your lips part all on their own. You haven't looked back up at his eyes in too long. Far too long. But he's so close, and he's so warm, and he smells so good.

"Alright", you whisper. His mouth is barely an inch from yours. You can feel every breath he takes. "I watch your streams."

And then your lips are on his.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He's cocky and he's smug. He makes your job harder than it has to be. He does everything and anything to get under your skin. But Tyler Ownes is the best goddamn kisser this side of the globe.

He trails his hands, his big, big hands, down your sides, pushes the blanket out of the way and grabs at your waist with just enough firmness. He pulls you onto his lap and rests his thumbs over the hem of your top. He breathes into your mouth and takes it slow. He doesn't care that you almost knock his hat out of the way when you try to wrap your arms around his neck. He just holds you tightly to him and lets you tug on his lip.

You honestly don't know how much time has passed when he pulls back, grinning an entirely new grin at you, hazy and euphoric.

"It's not midnight yet", he mutters, the slightest bit out of breath.

"I don't care", you mumble, drawing him right back in for another kiss. You think you might be addicted. You simply can't get enough of him. You can't get enough of Tyler Owens.

But then a thought strikes you, and you pull away with a grin that makes him raise his eyebrows.

You chuckle against his lips.

"If you feel it, chase it, right?"

[bejeweledblondie]

Simon “Ghost” Riley Headcannons

A/N: these are loosely inspired from real life experiences I’ve had living on a military base, these men have a on & off switch it’s crazy

Simon “Ghost” Riley x F! Reader

Warnings: NSFW

• Simon first saw you while he was in the States for a training exercise, he was out at one of the local bars with some of the other soldiers he was with

• Soap had actually asked for your number first & since he was so intoxicated you turned him down

• Simon apologized for Soap & that’s how you met

• he did have a heart attack when he found out there was a bit of a age gap between you two but quickly got over it when he realized how mature you were

• it was a long distance relationship at first (from personal experience it sucks in the beginning)

• there were times when he couldn’t talk due to the risk of potentially exposing his teams location so you had to write letters every now & then

• you cried constantly whenever you saw some horrific news in the paper about what was going on overseas, the anxiety was awful

• but when he returned the reunions were euphoric

• you have a bottle of his cologne & aftershave so you can always feel close to him

• and you’d spray your perfume on the letters you sent so he couldn’t always smell the paper when he was missing you

• it took him sometime to open up to you about what had happened to him in his past, & your respected that

• when he first met your family, he was shocked by all the support he had received from them

• he asked your parents to marry you the first time he met them & showed them the ring too (ofc they said yes)

• he proposed to you in private after a nice dinner, he got choked up during the proposal

• your dad specifically was elated, he got to brag at how bad ass his son in law is

• your mom if she’s a teacher, had her entire class send cards, candy, anything they’d need in care packages Soap nearly cried when he opened the sweetest letter from a little girl (this actually happened irl my mom’s class did this & one guy got really choked up)

• Simon always would be your fiercest protector

• since he’s like an freakin tree he will guide your head with his bear paw of a hand in crowds

•he CANNOT sit with his back facing the door it stresses him out

•this man is strapped 24/7 whether that be a knife, bear spray etc. he’s ready

•he has a trauma kit in his car because “you never know”

•Simon is 1000% one of those apocalypse preppers you have freeze dried food, medicine, water, etc. he’s always on edge

• he sleeps with a damn rifle next to y’all’s bed

• you have a whole security system too

• your guy’s apartment is impeccable like you could eat off of the floor

• hell your guy’s bed has damn hospital corners

• Simon adopted a cat so you don’t feel as lonely when he’s deployed

• He’s your chonky boy & you do send plenty of photos to Simon when he’s deployed

• Gaz & Soap tease him about him living his “cat dad” life

• you start trying for a baby two years into your marriage

• Simon does fall victim to the “curse of the infantry” (which is not a negative thing btw it’s a running joke that infantry soldiers have all daughters) he makes girls

• he was deployed during your pregnancy & was worried sick he nearly missed the birth of your daughter

• that little girl is the most well protected baby in the whole world, the Task Force gifted him not just baby stuff but damn security for the nursery

• He watches your baby from his phone in the nursery on deployment, he was silently crying once when he was watching you sing a lullaby to your baby girl

•Price had to comfort him father to father

•In reality Simon has a very hard cold exterior at work for the sake of keeping his mental health for the profession he’s in but deep down he’s always held a soft spot & your relationship just brings it out

✨NSFW ✨

• there is a big size difference between you two & it drives him insane

• the first time y’all had together he didn’t want to break you in half

• when he returns from deployment y’all go at it like rabbits for multiple rounds, your poor pussy was so sore afterwards

• has a massive corruption & daddy kink

• he’s an ass man I don’t make the rules here so any position where your ass if the focal point is his favorite

• y’all have made so many sex tapes for him when he’s deployed, he has a whole folder on his phone & jerks off to them in the bathroom or the porta potty (it’s a canon event, trust me) to them

• he lets your cockwarm him constantly when you’re on the couch, when he’s working, hell y’all had even fallen asleep like that

• I know people say he has a Prince Albert piercing but alas per army regulation that is safety risk I think it’s more likely he’d use a cock ring on you

• during a military ball you two snuck off & fucked in a supply closet

• he couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel room after seeing you in your gown, it was red his favorite color

• and he just looked so fucking good in his dress uniform, that was the night you totally conceived your baby girl

• he groans into your ear when he cums & he’ll use his body to just eclipse yours

• “one more baby girl” & “c’mon pretty girl use your words tell me what you want”

• is a sucker for babydoll lingerie it brings your innocence & triggers his corruption kink

• moral of the story Simon Riley fucks

[sturnsstar]

Adore You ✶ Matt Sturniolo (NSFW)

a/n: My first smut ever! Be honest and tell me if this sucks lmao

pairing: Extrovert!Yapper!FemReader x Introvert!Matt

warnings: porn with plot / minor discussion / reader can’t take anything seriously and overthinks a lot / miscommunication / Matt just wants reader to shut up / Matt is a communication king / pet names! / SMUT / fingering / brief jerking off / some dirty talk / p in v / no protection (USE IT) / they banter a lot

requested: no

summary: You and Matt have been together for almost 5 months now. Your lifestyle is pretty different from his, but you manage to find compromises throughout the relationship. One night, you convince him to accompany you to a party, where you start to overthink your relationship. Luckily, Matt is here to prove you wrong. 

P.S. english is not my first language.

It was 11 pm as I finished reapplying my gloss for the third time that night. I finally convinced Matt to come to a party with me. It had been a while since I last went to a big social event, since Matt doesn’t really enjoy them. He never stopped me from going, of course, but he generally declined my invitations to join me.

Tonight though he changed his mind: while I was in the middle of preparations he sent me a text, asking me where and when the party was. I was so excited to go with him: I liked showing him off, he was my best friend and the best thing that ever happened to me. I honestly didn’t understand how he could like me, given the fact our personalities were so different: I’m what could be described as a social butterfly, a yapper, always ready for a new adventure or a new party, the more people the better. Matt was somewhat shy but not really: he enjoyed being with his friends but he never liked loud places, which I, on the contrary, loved.

We somehow worked anyway: he’s the lighthouse I need to calm myself, the part of me that knows how to handle me and my moods. And I like to think I help him too, making him understand that sometimes going out and trying new things is not that bad.

He picks me up twenty minutes later and we drive to the house where the party is taking place. The host is one of my old schoolmates: she’s graduated University and wants to celebrate with her old friends. I begged Matt to come with me, mostly because I want him to know my friends better. The fact he’s here with me tonight means the world to me.

“Thank you for joining me” I say, taking his right hand in mine and squeezing it gently. “It means a lot”.

“Sure, sun” he says not looking at me but squeezing my hand back, his attention on the road. I notice his hand is a bit sweaty. He’s nervous.

“It will be alright. They will like you” I reassure him, confident in my words. There’s nothing not to like about Matt: he’s a kind soul, he just needs to be more open to let the rest of the world see it as well. He hums the tune of the song that’s playing on the radio, and I understand he doesn’t want to continue the conversation. I lay back against the seat and enjoy the rest of the ride with him, knowing he needs silence to relax completely. He doesn’t let go of my hand, though.

We arrive at the right address and he parks the car a bit far away from the house. He kills the engine and doesn’t move to open the car door.

“You don’t have to, if you’re not comfortable” I say calmly, smiling softly at him. He turns his gaze to meet mine, and I can see the anxiety in his eyes. “I won’t force you to do something you don’t want, Matt. We can go home, watch some movie” I suggest, not able to hide the bit of disappointment in my voice. He notices it.

“No, it’s alright. We’re here anyway” and he gets out of the car. I can’t shake off the feeling he’s forcing himself to do this. That’s not what I want. Reluctantly I exit the car and reach his side as we walk towards the house. I take his hand in mine for reassurance, both his and mine, and we enter the already full house together.

Immediately the smell of smoke reaches us. I wrinkle my nose as we make our way through the living room, looking for the host. We find her in the kitchen, two beers in hand.

“You came!” She yells as soon as she sees me, making her way through the multitude of bodies that stand between us. I laugh happily at her outburst and her wobbly walk and immediately greet her with a hug, letting go of Matt’s hand.

“Of course! How could I miss it?” I ask grinning widely. I move back a step to be next to Matt again. “This is my boyfriend, Matt!” I introduce him to my friend, and she screeches about the fact that she’s been dying to meet him. I sense Matt flinching but my friend doesn’t notice. I do, though. He’s uncomfortable.

“We’ll just take something to drink, is that alright? Then we can catch up later” I tell my friend as I grab two cokes from the ice bucket. She voices her agreement before she shrieks again as soon as she sees another girl that played volleyball with us in school. With that she leaves us. I turn to look at Matt. 

“Did you like her?” I ask hopefully. He shrugs. “She yells a lot,” he deadpans. My shoulders sag, knowing this would be his answer but hoping he would say something else.

He senses my disappointment and takes my hand once again. “Sorry, sun. I’m trying” he says, his brows furrowed and his blue eyes sincere. I soften, knowing this is hard for him. He’s doing it for me. I smile and get on my tiptoes to peck his lips softly. “I know,” I whisper. 

Sometime later we make our way to the garden, where a bunch of different seats are spread all around on the grass. We sit down on a sofa where one of my old schoolmates invited us to. He was on the baseball team, if I remember well. We never really connected during school, but we were always at the same social gatherings, somehow. Tonight, he’s as drunk as one can be and suddenly considers me one of his oldest and dearest friends.

“And then, oh, then remember when they dared you to jump into the neighbors pool, and you actually did that?” He asks loudly and I giggle nervously, remembering I was a bit wild in my early teens. “Yeah, well, they called the cops after” I remember bashfully. 

“You never told me this story,” Matt says. I blush. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t one of my best moments” I admit embarrassed. Why do I feel so awkard? He’s my boyfriend, he knows me and he knows this happened years ago. I feel like I’m trying to make a good impression on him.

“This is just one of many, Matt!” Liam laughs. “She was a beast! You couldn’t stop her” I eye him carefully, not liking where this is going.

“You’re exaggerating” I try to joke, starting to feel a bit uncomfortable. Liam scoffs. “Exaggerating? Nah. I was there! And if I remember it right, you never gave a fuck about what others thought. What’s changed?” He asks playfully. I feel Matt stiffen. 

“Nothing. I just don’t do this staff anymore” I deadpan, my face set in a stoic expression. I don’t like this conversation, I don’t like this party anymore. 

“Whatever, you’re no fun” Liam scoffs, his attention on me finally over. He turns around to find his next victim and I worriedly turn to look at Matt, but I find his expression extremely calm. 

“Everything ok?” I ask tentatively, and he turns to look at me quizzically.

“Yeah? I’m not a child who’s never interacted with the world” he spits, rather brutally. He’s upset, he doesn’t like my friends. 

“Well, sorry I asked then” I bite back, turning away from him as another one of my old acquaintances calls my name. I chat with her for a long time, forcing myself to laugh at her jokes and smile at the right moments, trying to ignore the gloomy boy next to me.

This is ridiculous. I told him he wasn’t obligated to come with me. Now he’s here and he’s trying to make me feel like shit? I’m not having it. I can’t be ashamed of who I am and was: this is part of me, and if he doesn’t like it, I haven’t chained him so that he can’t leave whenever he likes.

Matt bounces his leg, making the whole sofa tremble, and I grow rapidly irritated. I feel overwhelmed by everything that’s happening: the people that were part of my daily life once felt like strangers now, the stories they’re telling are making me feel self conscious, and the glares I sense from Matt are making me mad. I get up abruptly, Matt follows.

“Something wrong?” He asks, suddenly worried. Oh, so now that he got what he wanted he’s suddenly worried about me?

“I want to leave” I say flatly, making my way to the door. He quickly comes after me, trying to keep up with my pace. Once we’re inside his car and he starts the engine, I feel his gaze on me.

“Were you not having fun?” He asks, and I almost believe he’s oblivious to how he made me feel tonight. 

“No, drive” I mutter, my cheek against the window. He doesn’t say anything as he wordlessly drives towards his house.

“I want to sleep at my house tonight” I say, hearing him take a breath.

“Why?” 

“I just want to”

“Your things are at my place, though”

“I’ll get them tomorrow”

“Sun, can you tell me what I did wrong?” He asks, his voice pleading.

Why do I feel like crying? I should be angry, instead I’m just ashamed. I haven’t felt like tonight in a while.

“Are you serious?” I whisper, turning to look at him. He senses my discomfort and quickly pulls over, killing the engine and turning his head to look at me.

“What’s wrong?” He asks again, his brow raised.

“All night, you acted like I forced you to come with me! You kept puffing and huffing all the time. I was afraid to say the wrong thing and piss you off!” I outburst, my cheeks red and my eyes watery. 

Matt stays silent for a while, waiting to see if I have something else to say. I don't. Once he realizes this, he lets out a breath.

“Can I speak now?” he asks. I nod, my eyes on the road in front of us.

“I’m sorry you felt this way, sun. I tried to enjoy it. It was just too much. I felt overwhelmed by all the people there. And honestly I also felt stupid” he confesses. 

“What? Why?” I ask, furrowing my brows.

“Because I feel like you don’t tell me things? I don’t know, it feels like you're always walking on eggshells around me.” he explains. I widen my eyes at his words. What is he talking about?

“I don’t know what you mean” I say defensively. He scoffs.

“Right. I feel like you don’t tell me things about your past. Why is that?” 

“Because of how you’re acting now” I raise my voice.

“And how am I acting?”

“Like you’re accusing me of something!” I snap, tears in my eyes. This is escalating way too far. And I know it’s my fault: he’s trying to explain himself while I’m being all defensive. I can’t help it. I don’t want him to change his view of me, but I feel like I’m slipping away.

“Hey, kid, calm down” he mumbles.

“Don’t call me kid.” I hate when he does that. He rests his head against the seat and closes his eyes. I watch him, scared he’s had enough of me. 

“Matt…” I whisper to get his attention. I have to explain myself as well. “Sometimes… I’m ashamed. I don’t like some things I did when I was younger, I know they were careless. I didn’t want you to think less of me if you knew” I admit. He tilts his head in that sweet way of his, a small smile on his lips. “What?” I ask, baffled. He shakes his head. 

“C’mere” he murmurs, gesturing to come closer. Slowly, I climb over the console with his help and finally rest my legs on each side of his. He holds me by my waist and pulls me closer. I let him. 

“Sun, you need to stop doing this” he says distractedly, fingers tracing my hip bone. 

“Do what?” I ask, my eyes transfixed on his long fingers. 

“Assuming things about me. Thinking I’ll get tired of you just because you never shut up” I lift my head rapidly, ready to snap at him again that if he doesn’t like my yapping, he can always leave me, but I see him grinning widely as his fingers start to tickle me. 

I snort very unlady-like and try to free myself from his grasp, failing miserably when he stops my futile attempts by kissing me. I mumble something intelligible as his lips press against mine over and over again, effectively shutting me up. I sigh into the kiss as my arms wrap around his neck, my fingers toying with his soft hair. 

His hands never stop touching me: my shoulders, my neck, my back, until they rest again on my hips, his fingertips grazing my butt.

“Sleep with me tonight” He murmurs as he trails kisses down the column of my neck, his voice husky and his warm breath making me shiver.

“You don’t really wanna sleep at yours, right, pretty girl?” he asks, biting down my shoulder gently. I let out a whine at the pet name, shaking my head slowly. 

“I thought you had enough of me for the day” I admit pathetically. He tuts and shakes his head, a smirk on his lips. “You think a lot, don’t you?” he mocks me as one of his hands trails my chest, feather-like touch making me squirm. 

“Shut up” I breathe when he finally cups one of my breasts through my top, his fingers gently tracing my erect nipple. He laughs quietly, seeing the reaction he has on me. Then, after one last kiss to my lips, he lets go of me, leaving me hot and bothered while he seems completely fine and ready to drive back to his place. I try to even my breathing as I watch him, his expression betrays his controlled demeanor. He still has that damn smirk on him, he knows I can’t wait to get home. His hand rests on my thigh, squeezing it gently every once in a while. 

“I don’t think less of you, just so you know” He breaks the silence of the car ride. I don’t say anything, my hand placed over his. “I’m serious, sun. I just wanted to hear about your past from you, not someone else.” he explains. I nod, a big weight lifting from my shoulders. 

“I’m sorry I overreacted” I answer, feeling awful that my fears overpowered me tonight, clouding my sense of judgment.

“‘s fine” he smiles, patting my thigh. He parks the car and waits for me before walking towards his front door. His brothers are probably asleep by now, but we try to be quiet anyway. He opens the door for me and as I pass by him, I feel his hand slapping my ass quickly. I turn around to tell him to stop or else his brothers will wake up but in a second he’s on me: hands on my jaw to turn my face up as his lips slot over mine, his tongue sliding into my mouth. 

He effectively shuts up every protest I had, as I blindly walk back into his house, his sure steps guiding me. If he makes me trip I’ll seriously be pissed. But he doesn’t. I don’t even realize it but we’re in his room, the door locked behind us. 

He walks me towards his bed, trying at the same time to kiss me and to take off my top. He struggles a bit and I laugh, squeaking right after when he spanks me again. “Matthew, I swear if you don’t quit it-” 

“What? I’m curious, what will you do?” he asks as he finally manages to get my top out of the way. As always, his eyes trail down to my exposed chest. It doesn’t matter how many times he sees me, he always acts like it’s the first time. I blush at his serious gaze, my hands trailing on his waist to get rid of his sweater as well. 

“Cat got your tongue?” He laughs teasingly and I scoff, my hand pushing his chest away from me. He doesn’t let me get far though as his arms lift me off the ground making me yelp. A second later, my back meets the softness of his dark sheets, him soon following after me.

“Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen” he mumbles under his breath, making me squirm under him.

“Come here” I urge him, my arms pulling him down towards me. He lets me, his hot lips peppering my face with kisses making me giggle and turn away from him. “Stop!” my laugh turns into a whine when he presses his hips against mine, making me feel how hard he actually is and effectively changing the mood. I try to breathe normally as I spread my legs to give him room, my skirt rising up on its own accord. Matt pushes it out of the way so that my panties are on full display for his hungry gaze. 

“Let’s see...” He mumbles as his fingers trace the cotton material. He looks up at me in mock surprise. “Who made you this wet?” he asks, voice husky. 

“Bloody Santa Claus” I joke, rolling my eyes. He doesn’t smile, though, just shakes his head.

“Do I have to gag you?” He asks rhetorically. I shake my head, giggling. “Sorry, my love” he smiles softly at the pet name and moves his hand under my panties, making me gasp at the sudden gesture. My breath speeds up as his agile fingers find my clit easily, making small quick circles just the way I like it. 

I moan wantonly as I try to keep my eyes open to watch him, on his knees between my legs with his hair now messy from my fingers. His other hand slowly caresses my face, his thumb on my bottom lip, making me slightly open my mouth. I kiss his digits one by one and take his thumb in my mouth, sucking it gently and hollowing my cheeks a bit, my eyes staring directly at his.

“Fuck” He groans at the sight, one of his fingers probing at my entrance.

“‘Gotta stretch you out a bit, pretty girl” He informs me like I’m not aware of the fact I need some preparation to be able to take him. I nod furiously as his long finger enters me slowly, making me get used to the sensation before starting to move in and out of me. Soon it’s two fingers, all the while his thumb never stopped working on my clit. I grab his biceps as I try to muffle my moans of pleasure.

“Matt, please…” I whimper, eyes screwed shut as I feel the coil on my stomach grow more and more, my legs moving uncontrollably.

“What do you need?” He asks me, his lips next to my ear as he keeps his ministrations going. He’s trying to sound calm but his cock pressing up against my thigh lets me know how excited he actually is.

“You know what I need” I breathe as he pumps his fingers faster.

He furrows his brows and I can sense what he’s thinking. Before I can say anything, he stops his movements, his fingers still inside me. I whine disappointed. “Why did you stop?” I ask, trying to move my hips up to gain some friction. 

“You didn’t answer me, so I just figured I had to stop” he teases me, making me roll my eyes. He wants to hear me beg.

“Come on, my love, please” I say sweetly, lifting my head up to kiss the corner of his mouth. “I need you” I pant to his ear. “I was so close” and I end it all biting his lobe, knowing this would send him to another planet. He gasps, his fingers give an involuntary thrust that makes me squeal. 

“Yeah?” He asks gruffly. I hear the sound of a zip as he shimmies his pants down his legs until he kicks them away. My hands immediately go to his hips, still covered by his boxers. One trails to the front, where his dick is hard and aching. He must be uncomfortable, restrained like that: I decide to be kind and help him, taking his cock out of its confines. Matt lets out a breath of relief as I start to steadily stroke his length. 

He slowly lowers his hips to mine and slots his cock between my folds, making me gasp when his tip hits my clit repeatedly as his hips rock back and forth. I raise my legs and interlock them behind his back, pulling him flush against me. 

“Matt, I want it” I moan breathlessly, my hands on his hair.

“Yeah? Want my cock in your pretty pussy?” he asks me, panting slightly from the stimulation. I nod furiously, not wanting to wait anymore.

“See? It was easy to admit” Before I can think of some snarky remark, he aligns his cock with my center and slowly pushes in, effectively making me forget anything I was about to say. 

I feel him stretching me out so good, and I try to relax my muscles to ease his access. Matt’s brows are furrowed in concentration. Even with our banter, he’s always very attentive not to hurt me. I smile fondly at his expression and kiss his forehead, making him halt for a moment, his eyes bright. 

“I’m so in love with you” I whimper sincerely, taken by sudden emotion. He smiles back and kisses my lips slowly, his hips starting to move. I whine into the kiss, my hips lifting up trying to be at his same pace. His arms cage me and I feel so safe, so happy to be with him, in his bed.

“You have no idea how much I adore you” He moans against my shoulder, his hips going faster and faster, making my head spin. His hand slips down to play with my clit once again, making me see stars. My legs tremble once again around him, a tell tale of the fact I’m about to cum.

“Will you come around my cock, pretty girl?” he pants as he doubles his efforts to get me there. I moan in response and he laughs, kissing my temple.

“Come on, baby, I know you’re there. Wanna feel you” he mutters, and I know he’s close as well. With one last hard thrust I feel my orgasm crash through me, my whines muffled by Matt’s mouth on mine. 

“Shit. Squeezing me so tight” he groans, and I feel his dick twitch inside me as he lets out a long moan. He stills his movements when he comes, his eyes screwed shut as I hug him tightly against my chest, praising him in his ear. He tries to even his breathing as I trace patterns on his back, and we both lay silently on his bed in complete bliss. 

Some time later he slowly pulls out of me, making me shiver slightly. He grabs a glass of water from his bedside table and offers it to me, and I gladly accept it, gulping it down. We set under the covers, his head on my chest and his arms around me. 

He laughs suddenly. “What?” I ask, confused. He smirks, looking up at me. 

“Who would have guessed the only way to shut you up was to fuck you?” He asks proudly.

“Matthew I swear to God-”

a/n: feedback is greatly appreciated! :)

[luveline]

If you have any interest, how about a Spencer blurb where he's off on a case and gets or misses a late night call from the reader and is super worried, only to call them back and find them drunk and missing him. And of course the team rags on him after.

thank u for ur request! fem!reader

Spencer looks down at his phone and goes ghostly white. 

"What?" Emily asks. "They had a sale at Waterstones and you missed it?" 

Spencer clicks a bunch of buttons on his phone and brings it to his ear, crushing limp hair to his neck. "Seventeen missed calls," he says. 

Derek comes to the rescue, though the lightness in his voice is slightly forced, "Don't panic, wonderboy. Who wouldn't be eager to talk to you at… two AM?" 

"Is that the time difference?" Emily asks, leaning forward in concern. 

Even Hotch puts down his pen. The team listens to the phone ring. It loops, loops, loops, and everybody breathes a sigh of relief when you finally answer. If something happened to you Spencer wouldn't survive it. Nor after everything he's already been through. 

"Hey?" he says. There's a gap of silence. "Y/N, are you there?" 

"Spencer!" 

Spencer turns away from the table they've congregated at and looks through the open window at the parking lot, police cars roaming in and out of spaces. "What's wrong?" 

"I miss you so much." 

Spencer's nose wrinkles of its own accord. "Yeah? You sound odd. Are you– are you drunk?" 

Derek laughs. Like marionettes held tight with strings suddenly cut, the team stop their stressing and send each other knowing, amused looks. 

"Just a little bit!" you promise, clearly lying. Your voice catches on the syllables like they're coated in sticky honey, the slightest slurring tripping you up at the end. "We went for– to Chilli's. I had a blooming onion and seven margaritas!" 

"I can tell." 

"I'm really sorry, Spence, I know I'm not s'posed to call when you're away," you begin. 

Spencer glances back. Rossi and JJ have returned with coffee and a late dinner, neither of them bothering to act as though they aren't listening to the conversation. 

"No," Spencer says, turning back around and hunching inward, "that's the opposite of what we talked about, isn't it? You can call whenever you want to, but I can't, you know, always answer. I thought something bad happened. Maybe next time you could text me?" Rather than call almost twenty times and give him a heart attack.

Laughter echoes from behind. They team act like a teasing family sometimes, Spencer their teenage son who's never dated. 

He would fluster if you weren't talking to him in loud but loving tones, "I can barely walk, texting wasn't happening. I'm para-spelgic." 

"You're not," he says, firmly at first. "Are you? Who's with you? Is Rebecca there?" Rebecca being your best friend. Spencer trusts her to take care of you.

"She was, but she said that I– uh… She said I talked about you too much and made her nauseous. I feel kinda sick, too, but I just needed to talk to you, Spence. I miss you. I miss you, are you home soon?" 

"Is Rebecca really not there?" he asks. He thinks about the room full of special agents he's standing in and drops his voice to a murmur. "I miss you too." 

"She's making toast or something." 

"That's good. It'll soak up the margaritas." 

"I don't want toast, I want you! Please come home safe, angel. I really wish you were here to do that thing with my ear." 

Spencer has to give in. You're speaking so loudly it's impossible the team hadn't heard it, but he can't find the will to be embarrassed any longer. You're drunk and ridiculous and all you can think about is him.

"I wish I was home, too. Do I need to worry about you? Make sure you're drinking water, okay? Alcohol makes you dehydrated, you'll get a bad headache." 

"It makes me miss you," you whine. 

He smiles fondly. "There's no cure for that." A door opens over the line. "Is that Rebecca?" 

"Yeah." Murmurings. "She says sorry for letting me get so drunk, but she didn't let me do anything. It's like you always say, Spence, I can do whatever I set my mind to." 

"And you set your mind to getting drunk at Chili's." 

"Exactly!" 

You talk a little more before he hangs up. He knows you're getting taken care of. 

A gaggle of smiling faces greet him as he turns around. "Everything okay, 'angel'?" Derek asks. 

Spencer puts his phone in his pocket. You'll text him in the morning with a hankering for Tylenol and sore eyes, but you'll be fine. "Everything's great." 

[loveinhawkins]

”How do you do it?” Eddie asks.

The question slips out far too late at night, anxiety thrumming in his chest—he’s not escaped the feeling ever since the boathouse, when he simply couldn’t sleep, felt like a fox just waiting for hound dogs to get his scent, ready to run—

Steve doesn’t need him to explain further, as if he can somehow hear a whole lot of what Eddie’s not saying: like when he picked up the phone an hour ago and hadn’t even let Eddie tie himself in knots, had just said, so easily, “I’ll come get you,” like it wasn’t a huge inconvenience, like he’d been the one to call Eddie instead.

He’s considering Eddie from where he lies in bed, leaning on his elbow, and he’s still got the covers off pointedly—and that’s a big thing, Eddie thinks, a big thing he doesn’t know what to do with, because they’ve not talked, not really, not got much beyond the dizzying relief of still being alive.

But even fraught with profound lack of sleep, Eddie doesn’t think he’s misreading the look in Steve’s eyes.

I know, those eyes say, illuminated by the warm light of the bedside lamp. It’s okay, there’s no rush. I’m right here.

Eddie’s never seen that kind of look before. Not towards him.

“Sometimes Robin sleeps over,” Steve says thoughtfully. “And sometimes the kids are around, and they’re so annoying and I get, like, three hours, tops.” He says it with all the fondness in the world. “And sometimes I’m alone, and it’s fine.”

“What about the other times?” Eddie can’t help but whisper.

If it were a reasonable hour maybe he wouldn’t dare to ask at all, but exhaustion’s worn down the filter in his head—at this point it’s practically see-through.

Steve shrugs. “Yeah, they’re shit,” he says with such honesty that Eddie nearly asks it again, how do you do it?

“But then it’s, like, a new day,” Steve says slowly, like he’s carefully weighing up what to say, “and I can… drive.” The pause tells Eddie he means go to someone. “Or, like… call, if it’s really bad.”

Hey, I’m glad you called, man, Steve had said when Eddie got into his car earlier, like they were just going to the movies or something normal—like Eddie wasn’t shaking, forehead pressed against the passenger window.

Eddie feels his throat close up a little. Tries to sniff as quietly as possible.

“Eddie,” Steve says patiently. He moves back in the bed. Gives Eddie space. “C’mere.”

Steve keeps the lamp on which helps; this isn’t the boathouse, Eddie thinks, and the slightest bit of tension leaves his body. Even that feels like a miracle.

He’s just resigning himself to lying there, staring up at the ceiling so at least Steve can get some rest, when Steve turns and catches his eye, still wide awake.

“Tell me about The Lord of the Rings,” Steve says.

The tightness in Eddie’s chest loosens; he laughs in surprise. “What?”

“You heard me.”

Eddie turns so he’s facing Steve properly, attempts a casual shrug, knowing already that it’ll be too rigid. “I don’t know, man. We, uh. We kinda lived through Mordor already.”

His hand twists in the bedsheets, knuckles turning white.

I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never had…

Steve’s hand reaches across, eases Eddie’s grip on the sheets, like he’s saying, neither did I. Just give it a shot.

“The shire, then,” Steve says.

Eddie smiles. “Steve Harrington,” he says, suddenly finding enough lightness to tease; he’s missed it. “Are you asking me for a bedtime story?”

“Nope,” Steve says. “We’re just gonna lie here and talk.”

And they do.

Steve asks questions which works out for the best—Eddie can’t quite remember the last time he read the books. To tell the truth, anything that happened before March often has a kind of fog over it.

He’s sure he’s dropped at least a couple of plot points somewhere along the way, but Steve never once complains that he’s not making sense, just gently prompts Eddie until… until…

“Mm, I know what you’re doing,” Eddie mumbles through a yawn that catches him unawares.

“Oh, do you now?” Steve says, sounding smug. God, Eddie loves him. “Is it working?”

“Maybe.” Eddie says. His eyelids are heavy. “Um.” He yawns again. “Where… where was I?”

“Don’t worry about it, man,” Steve says. It sounds like he’s smiling—Eddie would check, but it’s suddenly impossible to keep his eyes open.

It’s okay, he thinks hazily, melting into sleep without even thinking about it. He can ask Steve in the morning.

There’s no rush.

[seungfl0wer]

*Jeongin Calling You Clingy*

Paring: Jeongin x Reader (GN)

Genre: Angst

Warnings: I honestly don’t think any?

This is part of a series find the others here:

Bangchan, Minho, Changbin, Hyunjin, Han, Felix, Seungmin, Jeongin

-🩵

You had come to the practice room to suppose your boyfriend. His birthday was close so you got him a little something knowing he’d be away for his actual day. You had went to knock at the door before you could hear him talking to one of the other members. “Yeah i don’t know man y/n is just so.. clingy at times?” He said trying to find his words. “Sometimes I just feel suffocated by them.” He let out a sigh running his hands through his hair.

“But y/n just loves you Innie and they don’t get to see you as often as most couples would.” The members voice soft. “Yeah I know it’s not like I don’t love them, it’s just when I do have alone time it feels like I have to spend it with them or I feel bad cause of that same fact.” He groaned out “I don’t know I just need space sometimes to relax to clear my head and it’s hard to do that sometimes with them around. I feel like I just gotta keep happy so the days we do have together aren’t waisted on my emotions.”

Your heart thudded his words making you dizzy ‘he feels suffocated by me? Am I really that clingy?’ You said to yourself taking a deep breath in. You turned on your heels about to walk back to your car before you were met by Chan. “Oh hey y/n! Coming to see Innie” he smiled at you. “Uhm yeah..” your voice cracking a bit “just wanted to drop something off to him.” You said Turing back around Chan opening the door following behind you. Jeongin quickly met your gaze he looked almost defeated seeing you.

“Hey babe” he said softly walking towards you “hey I just wanted to drop this off for you since I won’t see you on your birthday.” You said handing him the bag. He smiled softly opening the bag “wow babe you didn’t have to- I can’t believe you remembered I wanted this.” His face lighting up at the jacket he’s had his eye on for months. You took a note on it when he showed you knowing his birthday was coming up. You smiled at him seeing the other members seeing it was Felix.

“Hey y/n we were gonna go get dinner wanna come with?” He said with a smile. You shook your head no “I’m not feeling the best actually, I was just here to drop the gift off.” You gave him a fake smile “thank you though maybe next time.” You kissed jeongins cheeks “I’ll see you later” you said turning on your heals to walk out the door.

He sent you a text as you got into your car “let me know if you need anything babe” you shook your head feeling like you were about to cry. You headed home and the next few days you were almost silent only talking to him if he had messaged you first. The boy wasn’t the brightest at picking up on cues so he didn’t realizing you were distancing yourself.

About a week later he had just gotten back from Japan texting you about him landing.

You didn’t lie you were in bed and you ended up falling asleep. Jeongin was in a panic his heart racing, it felt like it was breaking like all the pieces were scattering trying to find you. He rushed to grab a cab, the ride there he was just a mess. His mind raced thinking of what could have happened then realizing how distant you had been lately.

‘They’re gonna dump me’ he thought making tears prick at the corners of his eyes. ‘No no no no’ he said shaking his head. He got to your place racing for your spare key. He bolted into your house only to see you lying in bed asleep. He softly touched your arms trying to wake you up. Your eyes fluttered open a bit annoyed to be woken up. “Jeongin why are you here?” You said voice scratchy from just waking up.

“I’m here because I’m concerned that.. that you’re gonna break up with me.. that I did something wrong and I..” his voice stuttered as he started to cry. “Talk to me.. please what did I do let me.. I.. let me fix it” he sobbed out. Your heart felt heavy seeing the man crying “Jeongin..” you said reaching out for him. He collapsed into your arms crying harder into your chest.

“Listen.. I heard what you said to Felix.. about feeling suffocated by me.. I’m sorry I just wanted to give you space didn’t wanna be clingy anymore..” you said feeling like you’d start bawling any minute as well. His head shot up “y/n! I- why didn’t you say anything?? That’s been how long? You’ve been carrying that hurt for that long.. I made you hurt for that long?” He sniffled wrapping his arms around you. “I’m sorry I’m so- fucking sorry babe.. please I-“ he sobbed harder into your chest.

“I’m sorry I’ve made you feel that way in the first place jeongin” you said rubbing his head. “Y/n listen our relationship is complicated things are different than normal relationship. So sometimes I need alone time. But” he said clearing his throat wiping his face. “But I love having you around it makes my heart melt just seeing you and you make me feel comfortable” he said looking up at you placing a kiss to your trembling lips. “I wish I had come to you about this I just was afraid of hurting you.” He said softly “but I guess either way I did”

He took your hand “please say something?” He said eyes pleading “your words have been circling in my mind jeongin.. I feel like.. like I need to change myself so I-“ you rambled but he cut you off “no! Do not change yourself. Never change yourself no matter what people say. No matter what I say dumbly. You’re amazing you’re the perfect person never change yourself please babe.” His words spewed out as you felt tears run down your face.

It was your turn to burry your face into his chest to cry “i love you jeongin i just wanna make you happy.” You said through sobs. He rubbed your back pulling you down into the bed wrapping his arms around you tightly humming into your ear to calm you down “I love you (full name) with all my heart you make me the happiest man alive and id never change a single thing about you.” He said pulling your face up to look at him kissing your lips softly.

You both laid there Jeongin started to sing softly as he rubbed your back. “Let’s sleep my love we can talk more in the morning if you want, I’ll even make breakfast.” He said kissing your head. You nodded no through puffy sleepy eyes “ok but how about we go get breakfast, I’d like my place not to burn down.” You both laughed a bit before you fell asleep to jeongins singing.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

[hoodoo12]

Bad Date (1/2)

An oldie but a goodie (I think). Who hasn't been in a situation that you feel trapped in and need an out?

NSFW, Beetlejuice x f!reader

You fiddled with your fork. The droning--the god awful, incessant droning--from the other side of the small table never ceased. The man sitting there, the man who you agreed to go out on this date with, hadn’t stopped talking about himself. The. Entire. Time.

It wasn’t as though he had interesting or fun stories either. He had opinions on everything, no matter the subject, and thought himself an expert of everything too. He worked at a car dealership, for the love of god, and although he bragged about how much money he made and the fancy vehicles he drove, you had a suspicion he was more on the level of a lot attendant instead of a top salesman.

Why did you ever swipe right on his photo?

You slipped your phone into your lap and discreetly checked the time. You’d been at this restaurant for thirty minutes, and although the waiter had taken your orders, you’d only gotten drinks and a basket of bread so far. This was insufferable. How were you going to last through salad and an entree with this guy? You didn’t even want to think about coffee and dessert.

While he continued to prattle on about the border wall or car tires or whatever, your mind drifted.

Beetlejuice had not been happy you’d gone out tonight. He’d expected another lazy evening in, but it wasn’t like the two of you were exclusive or anything! Who knew how many people the ghost had on the side? It wasn’t like you could keep track of him. And whenever you dared try to mention the word ‘boyfriend’ or ‘partner’ or anything of the sort, he stammered and turned a more sickly shade of pale, and found excuses to change the subject. That, or he just left, no matter what the two of you happened to be doing at the moment. Sometimes, for fun, you teased him about it, just to make him squirm.

Tonight you’d give anything for it to be real. Then you’d never be in this mess.

You wondered if typing his name into a text message would summon him.

No harm in trying . . .

With a quick glance up at the guy across the table flapping his lips--oh god, he saw you looking and thought you were encouraging him!--you quickly dropped your gaze to your phone again. Because Beetlejuice wasn’t listed in your phone, you pulled up a cousin’s contact page as a proxy.

Quickly you tapped out, “Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse,” into a new text message.

You hit send. You could explain to your cousin later.

Nothing happened. You gave it a few more minutes while the yammering from your date continued, and still nothing happened.

You decided to try again, with a phonetic spelling this time.

“Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!”

You crossed your fingers this time that he’d appear.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Your date continued to be oblivious to the fact you were completely ignoring him.

Nothing.

Then a tiny ‘ping!’ from your phone!

“What the hell? Is this some kind of safe word?” your cousin texted back.

With a wry smile, you thought your cousin had no idea how the answer to her question was the truth. You also hadn’t realized you’d been holding your breath until you got some kind of response. You let it out in disappointment that it wasn’t Beetlejuice, but used it as an excuse to leave the table.

“I’m sorry, I have to take this,” you blurted, interrupting your date and getting out of your chair before he could respond. You darted away from the table towards the restrooms.

In the restroom, you ignored your phone and stared into the mirror. Someone else was in one of the stalls, but you disregarded that too; you just wanted help!

Watching your lips form the words, you muttered, “Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice.”

You closed your eyes at the last syllable. When you opened them, he was standing right behind you, his mouth curled into a snarl and his eyes dark under furrowed brows.

You spun on your heel to him.

Before you could tell him that you needed rescuing, he spit,

“What the hell do you want?”

Startled, you couldn’t answer. Typically he was pleased to hear his name--

“I thought we weren’t seeing each other tonight,” he continued in an angry growl. “You had your date, and I was supposed to sit around, twiddling my thumbs, watching reruns of the shit they show on TV in the Netherworld--it’s all garbage like Manimal and My Mother the Car, nothing even entertaining like the Jerry Springer Show--”

“Beej, you’ve got to help me!” you interrupted. “You’ve got to get me out of this date!”

At least he had the decency to stop talking when you said something, unlike the guy still sitting at the table.

Beetlejuice fixed you with an undeniable “I-told-you-so” expression, but it didn’t soften his anger. “Nope. You got yourself into this, you get yourself out of it.”

That was not the answer that you had expected. Beetlejuice was usually ecstatic to rain chaos down on the living. He usually jumped at the opportunity to harass people. And now, at all times, he’d decided to, to . . . make you pay for one measley mistake?

Tears welled in your eyes. Deep down, you knew you deserved it.

You grabbed a tissue from the box on the counter and dabbed your eyes. Okay. He wouldn’t help? Then you’d sit through the rest of this horrible date, pray to god the guy didn’t get handsy or expect anything physical in return for paying, and then you’d take a long hot shower when you got home to try and wash away the memory of this disastrous night.

“Okay, Beej,” you told him quietly. Because tears began forming again, you couldn’t see the expression on his face. You imagined it was triumph. “I’m . . . I’m sorry about tonight.”

With the apology, you reached for his hand, gave it a quick squeeze, and left the restroom. As the door began swinging closed behind you, you heard an old woman’s voice from the stall exclaim,

“I heard a man’s voice! There better not be a man in this ladies room, or I’m speaking to the management--”

The door closed completely, and you never heard a retort from Beetlejuice.

⁂

You made your way back to your table. Your date was there, looking annoyed he’d lost his audience. You sat down again, murmured a quiet lie that your cousin’s dog was sick and she was giving you an update, and your date launched into a diatribe about how veterinarian medicine was a money-grabbing scam.

You went back to fiddling with your fork, feeling miserable. Once or twice you tried to at least look interested in whatever nonsense erupted out of the mouth of the guy sitting opposite of you, but it wasn’t a facade you could maintain.

Luckily, a waiter bumped into your table. It broke your date’s soliloquy, thankfully. Salad plates were dropped in front of the two of you. Your date looked annoyed, but you were just happy to have something else to focus on. You thanked the waiter without looking up.

To keep yourself occupied, you tried to remember and list all the ingredients in a Ceasar salad while you stabbed some with your fork. Now your date was talking about some other fancier restaurant he’d gone to, with grilled romaine lettuce for the salad, and croutons made daily with their own milled flour for the bread, and wild-caught yeast, and, and, and--

Mechanically you chewed. Nothing had flavor.

“--it was nothing like this! These are obviously store-bought croutons!” your date was saying, because he’d suddenly become a celebrity chef along with a veterinarian and car dealer. “Subpar ingredients! I’d hope that they are saving money so the steak I ordered will be higher quality, but I know that won’t be true--what the hell is this?”

You couldn’t even fake enough interest to lift your head.

“What the actual hell?” he exclaimed, then more loudly, he snapped his fingers and called for the waiter. “Hey. Hey! Waiter! Get over here!”

You stabbed another bit of lettuce. As you raised it to your mouth, the waiter got to your table.

“Yes sir? Would you like some freshly cracked black pepper on your salad?”

The waiter’s voice was soft with a bit of a scratch that made it sound like he may have the beginnings of a sore throat. You didn’t look up at him, but from the corner of your eye saw that his trousers were faded black with uneven pinstriping. Wasn’t the rest of the staff in solid black clothing?

“No!” your date admonished rudely. “There is something in my salad and I want to know what it is!”

Curious beside yourself, you looked over the table.

Your date was red-faced and angry, pointing at his plate. You didn’t see anything in it. When he tapped it with his fork, however, some of the lettuce moved on its own.

The waiter reached into the salad with dirty-looking fingernails. In slow motion, everything happened at once: you looked up his arm to Beetlejuice’s face, a decidedly evil grin began to widen his lips, and he plucked a tiny, four inch, black and white sandworm out of your date’s salad to hold it up in front of him.

Time snapped back into proper speed as your date gasped.

Still holding the wriggling, hissing sandworm, Beetlejuice grabbed a chair from another table, swung it around so he could straddle it backwards, and plopped himself down between the two of you. He didn’t say a word to you.

He held the angry sandworm in front of your date’s face.

“This, Matt,” he said, putting an obvious tone of dislike on your date’s name. He grabbed your date by the shoulder to keep him seated, then continued like this was a nature show and he was presenting a fascinating creature. “This is a baby sandworm. Look at the little fellow! See his little stripes and blue lips? That’s because he’s poisonous. He’s warning predators off! But, interesting fact, he’s also venomous. Those teeny tiny fangs’ll inject you with venom and paralyze you so you don’t struggle as he’s swallowing you! Look how mad he is!”

Beetlejuice shoved the sandworm closer to Matt’s face, making him flinch back.

“Oh, he’s so mad you can see his secondary mouth! Usually those don’t appear until they’re older!”

The sandworm writhed and continued to hiss wildly.

“Now. Matt. Listen,” Beetlejuice continued like this was a perfectly normal conversation, even though you could see Matt wanted to bolt. The ghost’s grip was white-knuckled tight on him. “This little guy, yeah. He’d mess you up some. Make you sick if you ate him, or if he got shoved into some bodily orifice. But he probably wouldn’t kill you.”

You imagined you almost saw a look of relief pass over Matt’s face.

“His mother though . . .” Beetlejuice mused thoughtfully. “Sandworms are really protective of their young. This baby gets inside you and his mama is going to come looking for you, and she’s gonna be fifty solid feet long of pissed off.”

The expression of horror on Matt’s face made a small smile crack your lips. Beetlejuice grinned too.

“So Matt, what do you say? You wanna apologize to the lady for being a total d-bag and wasting her evening with your non-stop drivel and an ego that is, to be honest, even impressing me a little bit with its size? Or would you like to see how quickly little Sandy here can wriggle his way into your brain or stomach? He’d fit in an ear, I bet, and if not, definitely down your throat--”

Matt managed to wrench himself away from the grip holding him in his seat. He stood up so fast his chair tipped over as he backed away. That caught the attention of the other patrons, but your date didn’t care. He stumbled through some creative, cussing descriptions of you, Beetlejuice, and the whole situation, his voice growing louder as he continued.

Restaurant staff began converging on the table. You were mortified but felt a little surge of warmth that Beetlejuice hadn’t abandoned you. Beetlejuice’s expression was a mixture of amused and bored. Matt’s voice rose until the ghost stood up abruptly and grabbed him again.

“Apologize,” he ordered, “and don’t even think of contacting her again.”

Being held by what he thought was a deranged man--that observation was surprisingly accurate--with the still hissing sandworm dangerously close to his face, Matt choked out an apology to you. Beetlejuice released him, dusted Matt’s jacket off, and gave him a slight shove.

By then the restaurant’s manager had arrived. Matt, since he wasn’t restrained any longer, continued to swear, trying to describe what just happened to him, talking about the sandworm and being accosted and this establishment going to be shut down--

--he was escorted from the premises.

Before anyone could turn their attention to you and the ghost poorly imitating one of their wait staff, you and Beetlejuice hurried out the door as well.

Outside, you threw your arms around his neck.

“Thank you! You don’t know how much it means to me that you did that!”

Beetlejuice pursed his lips like he was a little disgusted with himself for coming to your rescue, but the quick kiss you planted on him erased the expression.

“Are sandworms really protective of their young?” you asked. “Is one really going to come looking for that baby?”

“Hell no!” he scoffed. The tiny sandworm he still pinched between his fingers had calmed down a little. That, or it was tired from all the activity. “They give birth and then its every one of them for themselves! If the babies don’t bury themselves quick enough, the mother eats them! Nasty little buggers.”

“Ugh,” you agreed. “Well, get rid of it, then. And I owe you big time.”

At that, Beetlejuice looked you straight in the eye and leered. “I’m going to keep you to your word on that, baby.”

He offered you an arm, so you hooked your hand through his elbow, and the two of you left for home.

tbc . . .

[ericshoney]

Interrupt ~ Sturniolo Triplets

Summary: You agreed to film a car video with the guys but you couldn't help keep interrupting Nick due to your random thoughts, resulting in a fight.

Warnings: Shouting, swearing, ADHD!Reader, argument, angst with a happy ending.

~~~~~~~~~~

Today you had gone to hang out with your best friends, agreeing to film a car video with them. The guys knew about your ADHD and being an influencer yourself, you were open about it on the internet.

All four of you were sat in the car, eating McDonald’s happily as Nick began to intro the video.

“Hey look at this funny TikTok I found of a dog!” You shouted, cutting Nick off.

You showed the video to the boys, Nick sighing as you did. All of them loved you and helped where they could with your ADHD, but they weren’t professionals.

Nick continued to talk about the video topic, however you kept interrupting him. It was like Chris but worse and Nick started to get angry.

“Shh! Your on time out for a minute!” He shouted, setting a timer on his phone, as Chris and Matt both laughed.

You pouted as he kept taking, Matt and Chris taking as well and as soon as the time stopped, you talked again.

��I think that food looks disgusting! I mean dog food looks better!” You shouted, looking at the gross food.

"Okay, what about thi-" Nick began saying, but you interrupted him.

"Oh remember that TikTok of that guy who tried dog food!" You shouted.

"Shh!" Nick exclaimed.

"Go Nick." Matt said.

"I'm trying!" He responded loudly.

"Dude calm down." Chris said.

"No! I'm actually getting pissed off now. She's constantly interrupting me every second! Like at least you keep your mouth shut for a bit, Chris." Nick responded.

You frowned a bit, Matt already turning the camera off, knowing none of them wanted this footage to be recorded.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean too." You apologised.

"You always say that, but you keep doing it. Like shut the fuck up and let someone else speak! You can't blame your ADHD all the time!" He shouted.

You fell quiet and looked out the window, feeling your heart sink. You had forgotten to take your meds this morning, resulting in you being extra loud and bubbly. They guys didn't know this though.

"Let's carry on, shall we." You said quietly.

"I promise I won't interrupt you Nick, or Matt or Chris. I promise to keep my mouth shut." You added.

"No, kid. We're not filming right now. I'm driving home and we can continue filming another time." Matt said, starting the engine.

Chris had agreed while Nick remained quiet. He instantly regretted shouting at you, especially hearing your apology for no reason.

When you all returned home, you rushed to Matt's room, taking shelter in there, as Matt slapped Nick around the head.

"Hey woah!" He shouted.

"Dude you fucked up." Chris said.

"I just got angry alright, I shout at both of you sometimes." Nick responded.

"Yeah and we take it differently to her. Plus you know she can't help it with her ADHD, why use that against her." Matt said, disappointingly.

"I know and as soon as I said it, I felt bad." Nick admitted.

"Go tell her then, bro!" Chris called.

Nick came to Matt's room and as soon as he heard you crying, he felt his heart break instantly. He walked in coming over and hugging you tightly.

"I'm so sorry sweetheart, I didn't mean anything I said. I was just a bit angry and I know you can't help it I really do, I'm sorry and know it's a fucked up thing. I get if your angry at me." He apologised.

"Didn't have my meds. I forgot." You admitted.

"Kid, why didn't you tell us?" Nick asked softly.

"Scared you'd tell me off or something....but that already happened." You answered.

"I'm so sorry again. I really am." He apologised again.

"If your willing, how about Chris, Matt and I help you try and remember your meds? Come up with some sort of plan that we'll stick by too, then we help you out and something like this won't happy again." He suggested.

"You....You want to help me?" You asked in shock.

"Of course sweetheart. I'm so sorry again for shouting at you, I should have checked if you had your meds or needed time to regulate before jumping to being a asshole." He replied.

"Thank you." You said, giving him a small smile.

"Your welcome and I'm so sorry again." He said.

You smiled and hugged him, happy he apologised and knew he was going to do better to help you and make up for his mistake.

[satoruhour]

*runs in*

colllege athlete!au where jjk men see you in their varsity jacket and just goes batshit crazy. They defo win the game afterwards and fuck you in it, best orgasm of your life.

*runs out*

❄️

a/n: MY LORD .......................... YOU JUST UNLOCKED SUM IN ME ICY !!!!! discussions of p -> v sex, unprotected sex, breeding, oral f! receiving, name calling, semi-public sex, long LONG post

gojo would def be the one to suggest it at first. hes even offering to buy two jackets just for you but then youre like “but i dont want you to waste money satoru... plus i want it to smell like you..!” omg that makes gojo cum on the spot lmfao. but is mostly caught off guard when you first wear it - it happens when its the half time of the game and his team is not doing particularly well bc he made u a little upset the night before and he felt bad :( youve been on his mind for the whole game and hes so distracted poor boy. but u also think you were being a little childish in how you reacted, so youre stealing his varsity jacket way earlier than he leaves and hes so confused when that morning he cant find it. shows up to the game in another jacket and got an earful from his coach that no one really likes, and bc theyre doing so badly, at half time the coach didnt want to meet with them for pep talk either. boo fuck the coach but anyway, youre rushing down to the lockets and whatnot in his jacket. feels like straight out of a movie dude omg. that troy and gabriella shit bc gojo is dragged outside and is hugging you close and muttering apologies into your neck, kissing u all over sigh. its gotten him a big boost of adrenaline tho! and as the star player of his team a lot of his teammates feed off of his energy. gojo is the last to leave the locker room, wanting to have a little more time with you. he twirls you around and admires you in his large jacket and makes out with you until he hears the buzzer from outside LOL. gives u a deep kiss, “ill win and fuck you good later, alright princess?” “go get ’em, satoru. i’ll be here always.”

yeah he def fucked you good later on, making you strip out of everything but his jacket and pounded u nice and good in the locker room long after everyone left. made you ride him on the benches, ate you out as you sat on the benches and kept thanking u for being his lucky charm thru all his matches. the grip on your hips were so heavy they were pprobably bruised, and the clanking of the lockers were so noisy it was a wonder you two werent caught. “that’s right, baby— taking my cock like the good girl you are,” you’re pushed up against the university lockers and railed into from brhind, sticking his fingers into your mouth as he made u arch your back in that varsity jacket of his. ooh lord. brought you out on a winning date and fucked u in his car, fucked you back at his home all the while wearing his jacket !!!!!!!

/

geto has never thought of it personally, but he wonders about it one day, thinking bout you in it without anything and he gets hard as heeellllll. has been wantin to put you in it for the longest time but just didnt have the opportunity to - youre always prepared with a cardigan or jacket of your own or you simply just dont get cold much to suguru’s dismay. so when you’re shivering one day before a game (sometimes they would watch the match before to get a sense of the two teams, and also bc you wanted to travel light handed for the date geto was going to bring you to after), geto’s so so quick to offer up his varsity jacket before you can think of any counter to it. but what you dont tell him is that youve been “avoiding” in a way, just bc you know if u get access to his jacket he will never. get. it. back. you have a knack for stealing his clothes bc geto smells good good and youre addicted to his scent. but either way youre trying not to gasp at the largeness of the jacket ... 🙏 same girl. you’re slipping one arm and then the other, wrapped in the safeness of geto’s jacket and hes trying so hard to show u that he isnt shivering LMFOAOAAOAO thank god the match was ending already and his team was up next. gojo only nods towards you later in the locker room as you stay thru their coach’s talk, smiling sickly bc he just knew what his best friend was going to do afterwards.

soon enough he can hear the cheers of the spectators flood his ears but hes only focused on you running up to him from the bleachers and hugs you close in his sweaty body (which u protest against and laugh about), but hes whispering “you dont mind though, right baby?” yeah you DEF dont mind it when he pulls you into the janitor’s closet and his body is grinding against yours. “was so hard playing through the game, yknow how difficult that is?” you reply back with i cant imagine with a giggle and let him do whatever he wants to you: hes so impatient he cant pull his game pants down all the way and the same goes for you. both your bottoms are stuck atound your thighs, and youre trying to stay quiet in that squeezy closet. it’s hard. youre so wet you dont exactly need foreplay, just maybe some brief fingering which has you whining into his neck and he slips in after. fucks you until the pails and cleaning supplies are falling to the floor and youre hoping to take off the varsity jacket but he refrains you from it, loving the way ur white shirt is turning wet from all your sweat. it’s sloppy, disgusting, juices spurting everywhere and youre so tight from your pressed-together thighs. i guess he has no choice but to put you in a mating press too and he goes so deeeep in that position you moan out loud. “yeah— made to take my cock like a slut, ain’t ya? only natural when you’re lookin’ so good in my jacket.” getos gross and u love it.

/

nanami fits better as an alumni whos come back for a friendly current students vs alumni match. hes entering the gym with haibara and his two annoying seniors gojo and geto and while they talk a lot of crap theyre great players. nanami comes up to greet you since youre still their manager and hes one year above you. dating across years is a little difficult esp with how nanami was in his last year of uni, and now that hes looking for work while u finish your last year .... it’s hectic thats for sure, but u guys make it work perfectly fine bc nanami prioritises you a lot!! but late youve been busy with midterms and him with settling in with his new job that he almost forgot about today’s match. is met with nostalgia the first time he steps intothe gym again but he never expected you to wear the varsity jacket that’s stuffed deep into your closet. frankly it doesnt fit him at all any mroe but you thought it to be fitting to wear it in this once in a lifetime match (bc hes just so busy!!!! to book a date w/ nanami is like going to the army dawg). nanami’s jaw drops when u first step foot into the gym and oh my god youre going to be the umpire too? he is going to become too distracted, instantly taken back to the many many times hes gotten you trapped in the gym bathroom with his cock in your mouth, or the time you ride him in the empty gym in the corner (it was late at night!!!!), or also the time right after his loss where he took all his anger and frustration out on you, jersey between his teeth as he uses you. something switched in nanami that day when u expressed how much u liked the roughness tee hee. surprisingly hes even more focused, in a way of proving something to himself bc he can probably count on everyone’s hands the number of times hes missed a cue from a teammate before when he was still in school just cause u were wearing his jacket 😭😭😭 man you dont even need to be in the jacket! thats how obsessed he is with u!!!

shoots you a small smile after each point and is trying to hard not to run to you to get a good job kiss. also finds the fact that youre judging appropriately and not showing biasness just cause nanami’s on one team really really hot! the way you call the shots, give the accurate penalties and that booming voice of yours echoing thru out the gym ..... youre so good at being umpire that even the juniors cant deny they lost fair and square and not just cause youre nanami’s girl. altho bc you two are so good at hiding they dont rlly suspect anything until hes kissing you - something that even he isnt that comfy with but he just needed to show off !!!!! that isnt the case when later he has you back in the gym, reminiscent of that one time!!! but nanami found it so hot, hes backing you back up into the quiet gym, illuminated by the moonlight. its way late after dinner and the uni students have gone back to their dorm already while the alumni has departed for their homes and its just you. thank god the gym is also located in a place that is a little secluded and disconnected from the campus so it isnt long before youre both making out against the walls of the gym, moans and sounds echoing in the large hall. “just like old times?” “yeah. except ill be taking my time with you” yeah, u take ur time indeed: the gargling of your mouth and groans of nanami is so disgustingly filthy, slobbering all over his dick and he also eats you out on the floor. when he stretches u out with his fingers you can hear yourself bc youre so wet that you drip to the floor. but none of u give a shit when you settle atop nanami and start riding him needily, bouncing and moaning out his name. the way the sounds of your slapping skin makes it way back to is gross!!!! but so hot!!!! its so lewd !!! you get tired soon enough and nanami thrusts up into you with whispers of ur name in the gym. u do that hot thing where you pull up your shirt and pull down ur bra so your tits r spilling out .... OOOOOOHH it gets nanami cumming instantly, esp with the large frame of the varsity jacket on you that he cums more than usual <3333

/

toji, rather than a player, is a coach for the team. youre the manager whos helping with all the admin stuff and waterbottles/towels and with moral in the team - kind of like kiyoko and yachi in hq, but when u show up always no one knows whose varsity jacket youre wearing. they all speculate between themselves and have their thoughts but the team members never suspect that it’s their own coaches one. it looks too similar to the team’s with no name on the back, the sewing is exactly the same and the small logo of their team takes its place on the left breast as usual. but they never bother to check the inside where toji has made a large blotched ‘T’ on the label and your name squeezed in on the underside. toji loves to see it on you, esp in games and while hed love to see it on you outside of it he cant run the risk that he’s dating the manager. but he also especially loves it when you surprise him at home: wearing his jacket with nothing but your panties, prancing around and doing chores as he comes back from another gruelling match. ohhhh the things he’d do to you... but the best is when you do it in public. that changes the whole game

you’re helping with practice here and there, picking up the stray shuttlecocks/volleyballs/whatever sport around the gym as they practice their drills, but toji realises you dont reach over and bend like you usually do - normally youd do it when you know toji’s the only one to be standing behind you so he can see your panties under the short skirt but you dont do ANYTHING so he wonders if he did smtg wrong. but also you’re squatting down to pick up things? it’s only later when you saunter up to him as his team is distracted and you unzip the jacket just a little and he gets the glimpse of the lingerie set he bought you and very very riskily bringing his hand down to your centre where you’re bare. toji groans to himself when he feels that youre already so wet, playing with your folds just barely until his student calls out to him and youre both shocked out of your daze. “you’re in for it, doll.” takes u to the equipment room, and fucks right after dismissing the team. “doing this typa shit in front of the boys? dirty girl.” youre holding onto the shelves of the equipment and it’s rattling so much that things are tethering so close to the edge, it’s insanity. the sight of his cock disappearing into you while you wear that short skirt is just pure serotonin for him, plus your moans echo a lot throughout the room along with the slapping of ur skin. stuffs the collar of the varsity jacket into your mouth to keep you quiet as he cums in you <3333 “look at that...” sighs when he removes his cock from you and cum drips to the floor, “my pretty manager.”

OKAY BYE . I NEED TO BE SPAYED.

[ssvnriseya]

LOVE AFFAIR (R.G.)

summary - you and rick had a forbidden affair that you knew was bad for the both of you, but you loved him and you can't help it.

warning - MDNI 18+ heavy angst, smut, unprotected p in v (wrap it buddy!), cumming inside, rick is a bit of an asshole and a jerk but we love him for it, lowercase intended, mentions of shane, mentions of lori and shane cheating on our poor baby, I think that's it. (lmk if i missed anything.)

notes - i love rick, period, previously the other woman but i changed it to love affair.

masterlist

you glanced at rick as he assisted lori and carl out of the car and onto the little camp you and the group has decided to settle in for the night.

it had been months since the farm fell when it was hit by a herd, months since you and the others have been on the road and were consistently on the run.

it has been months since something happened between you and rick, five months to be exact. you didn't know what happened or how it happened.

you only knew that you and rick needed comfort and stress relief since that night when you and rick were on the top floor of a house your group stayed in for a week.

you and rick were guarding the house from the top of the balcony, well rick was, you were just accompanying him because sometimes you know it gets too lonely.

you were talking his ear off and trying to converse with the man you've liked since the first time you met.

he was older, you were fine with that, it wasn't much of a big problem. it wasn't the thing to stop you from your feelings over him.

he has a wife. that was the thing that would stop you, you've tried to stop liking him but you could not, he was a great leader and he was a great father.

carl is rick and lori's son, he was a teenage boy that was a very sweet guy, he was the reason you met rick. otis has accidentally shot the boy and that brought rick to ask your uncle for help.

you looked away from the family as you bit your lip, staring at the fire embers instead as if it would make the aching pain in your chest go away.

fuck, you can see from the corner of your eyes how lori and rick lovingly held their son as they told him stories and cuddled with him.

"is that how you met mom?"

you could hear carl ask innocently as he looked up into his fathers blue eyes, you tilted your head a bit to the side to look at them and now you wish you didn't.

rick was smiling as he made heart eyes to his wife, the woman also had a smiling face as rick slowly nodded and looked back down at his son.

"yeah, bud. that's how i met your mom." rick nodded as he played with the boy's hair. was it really a good memory that it had them laugh amidst the chaos around the world?

you've never made him laugh, were you not really just funny? you also wanted to make rick laugh, you wanted to be the reason why he was laughing.

he rarely ever smiles when he's with you, whenever your bodies are onto each other or after that. he rarely smiled or laughed.

it was truly a rare moment to see him smile with you, and you would give up everything you had just to see him smile again, because of you.

you're crazy and down bad but whatever, you loved him. what can you do? it's not like you can control who your heart likes or loves.

"share it with us." beth smiled at the couple as she laid her head on your uncle hershel's lap, the old man was stroking the girl's blonde hair as he also looked at the couple.

everyone was looking at the family by now, also wanting to hear a love story once again for the first time since shit hit the fan.

you can feel butterflies form inside your stomach when rick's gaze landed on you, you smiled a bit as you looked away again.

he always had this stupid effect on you. you hate and love it at the same time, you hated it because it shows how weak you are for him, you love it because you love him and only he could make you feel this way.

you can hear the silence of the night as everybody waited for the story or rick and lori, how they met and how their love happened.

you didn't wanna hear it, you can't hear it. it would burn you and hurt you but you can't do anything, others would get suspicious.

maggie was a smart woman, she would instantly figure out what was going on and you didn't want anyone to know what's up with you and rick.

you only pressed your lips into a thin line as you mirrored daryl's usual position, you dazed into the fire as you waited for rick to start the story.

"well, there's this college party my brother and i attended." rick started and you didn't dare look at him while he told the group how he met his wife.

"and?" carl asked impatiently and everyone laughed at the little boy, even you let out a little smile as you quickly wiped it.

"i saw your mom with her friends and we fell in love." rick stated simply as he finished the story in two simple sentences.

"that's it?" beth and carl grumbled as they wanted more, treating it like a bed time story as beth finds it hard to sleep on the cold grass.

"well, lori... she liked to make pancakes on sundays..." rick stated in a teasing voice as lori slapped his arm, also smiling at the memory.

"they weren't great." she instantly informed everyone as she waved at the air like she was trying to clear off the fact that rick tried to make her look like a good cook.

you frowned a little, you were a better cook. you don't burn your pancakes and surely you could do them a little better than lori.

you shook your head and thought about the times the older woman has been kind and generous to you. you can't say things about her just because you love her husband.

you were attracted to her husband yet she was the one who stood like your mother when you and the group were still in atlanta.

"rick doesn't bring lunch to work, he buys them." she chuckled as everyone laughed along with her. you let out a small scoff.

how could rick like her if she doesn't even know how to cook? how could she be a wife without learning how to cook in the first place.

but yet again your cooking skills would be no use if the guy you liked already has a wife and loves her despite her bad cooking skills.

you were glad hershel and beth were between you and the family. you can't stand being that close to rick. you would probably just have broken down.

he wasn't okay with her just a month ago, that's why you were both grinding against each other while everyone was asleep in the next building.

he definitely wasn't okay with her two months back, hence why he claimed that he needed you and only you could make him feel better.

three months back was the worse, lori and rick weren't even in speaking terms despite the woman trying to converse with her husband.

they weren't okay four months ago because lori cheated on rick with shane, thinking that her husband's dead, they weren't okay because she hooked up with rick's best friend.

they started drifting apart five months back when the farm was hit by a herd and shane died, rick wasn't even able to look at her in the eyes.

so when did everything go wrong? they weren't on good terms one month ago and now they're just laughing like a family like everything is back to normal?

maybe everything is back to normal. maybe rick has forgotten the fact that lori had cheated on him or maybe he just forgave her.

maybe it's just because his feelings for her came back and they were willing to try again for carl? maybe they were willing to try again as a whole family?

you took a quick glance at lori's stomach and your heart felt like it was being stabbed multiple times at the same time with different knives.

she was six months along, she was pregnant. none of you knew if it was rick's or shane's but the former was willing to stand up as a father for the baby whether it was his or not.

and that made you sick. he dropped you at the sidewalk to start a family again with the first woman he loved. he dumped you because he wants the four of them as a family.

did you actually mean so little to him? were you just really a bed warmer or a body he could use whenever he was feeling horny or stressed?

but you didn't care, you loved him, right? you don't care if he was using you or not. you would do anything for him because you loved him.

loving him comes along with things, and you were willing to pay for it. you can endure the pain and suffering, as long as you can love him.

you would rather it be that no one loves you than no one loves him. he was your everything and he's great, he deserves all the love in the world.

if letting him go means him being happy, you would let him go a million times. you loved seeing a smile on his face, you loved hearing the sound of his laughter.

your smile at maggie held so much meaning when she offered you a beef jerky that was being passed along the group as rick and lori went on sharing stories.

you passed the beef jerky to your uncle hershel and beth and you accidentally made eye contact with rick. only this time neither of you looked away from each other.

you smiled bitterly as if telling him that you understood, telling him that it was fine, that you were fine. but you weren't and the both of you knew that.

"rick..." you moaned his name as you both kept the pace you had, desperate to get some release. your hands were entangled in his curls as he was kissing your neck.

he was thrusting his hips into you so bad that the bed almost broke, you almost felt bad for the bed if you both weren't so starved for each other.

"please..." you begged as you met his hips, you were nearing and he was too. "ric—" you moaned loudly and rick had to cover your mouth with his hand to keep you quiet.

you would scream his name out loud like it was the only word you knew, but you knew you can't. the group was sleeping on the third floor of the building.

it was too quiet except for the occasional grunts and moans of the passing walkers. it meant that your moans would echo and reach those who were sleeping.

"i-i missed you..." you moaned.

you both were on the ground floor but you knew you would never lose a thing by making sure you were quiet. rick could keep his moans at bay while you? you can't.

it was too much of a pleasure for you and you wanted rick to finish inside you, to have him cumming the same time you are. you wanted to feel close to him more than ever.

"i-i'm coming..." your moaning was muffled by his big hand that almost took over the whole part of your face. you closed your eyes as you tightened up around him and came.

rick groaned in relief as he stopped thrusting and muttered praises as he felt your warm walls tighten up more around him.

"fuck... lori—" he came inside you as you stopped yourself from moving, you were frozen as you gripped his shoulders, pushing him away from you.

"what the fuck?" you stood up once he was off you, he also looked shocked when the word slipped out of his lips. the same lips you loved to kiss.

you searched for your clothes as tears threatened to spill out of your eyes, you found your undies and jeans as you reached for your bra and shirt along with your sweatshirt.

you didn't even dare to turn around and face his stupidly handsome face, you were too scared to do so. he was stuttering as he tried to come up with an explanation.

"what?!" you finally faced him as you started slipping on your undies, followed by your jeans. "you can't fuck her so you fucked me?!" you screamed, you didn't care if anyone heard you at the moment.

"what? is it because she's pregnant or she fucking only wants your best friend fucking her?" you hissed in pure anger.

"it's not—" he started as he tried to grab your arm, you backed away as you put in your shirt followed by your sweatshirt after putting in your bra.

"i'm not—" you sobbed as you stopped yourself from completing your sentence, "i'm not a fucking whore you can k-keep around to fuck when you feel... feel horny!"

"it's not fair how you just fuck me because you want to... or when you want to fuck your wife but forget you can't so you fuck me..." you sniffled as you crouched down.

"i-i love you that's why i always have sex with you." you confessed to him as you hid your face in the palm of your hands.

"it hurts me how you were laughing with her last week when you weren't fine a week ago..." you shook your head, disappointed at yourself.

"i said no strings attached..." rick looked down at you as he also started clothing himself if anyone ever came down due to your screams.

"i know... but i got attached. maybe too much more than before." your voice cracked as you looked up at him, wiping your tears.

"we're—" he started as he ran his right hand over his face and hair, "we're casual." he finished and you nodded several times.

"i-i know rick. i know." you nodded as you slowly stood up as you looked up at him, slowly walking towards him as you wiped your tears away.

"c-can't you try loving me?" you asked once you were standing face-to-face in front of him, voice cracking as he looked anywhere but you.

"i'm sorry." he looked down at the ground as he put a hand in his hips, shaking his head as you reached for his hands. he was breaking your heart and he knew it just by the sobs and whimpers that escapes you.

"please?" you begged as you lifted his head to look at you, pulling your hand away from his hand as you supported the sides of his cheeks.

"i-i can't." he shook his head and he also had tears in his eyes by now, also waiting to spill out any moment. he was shocked how he could hold back his tears.

you were desperate, sad, and angry. maybe this didn't hurt him too much and he really had no feelings for you that's why he can't even spare a tear for you.

"in another life?" you asked as you gave up, your shoulders slumping as you smiled at the older man, caressing his stubble.

"in another life." he nodded finally breaking as he saw your pained smile and at how you were so accepting and understanding.

"i love you, rick." you whispered out as you searched his eyes for any signs that he wanted you too, not the way of you being beneath him but wanting to be with you.

you waited for a second but all you got was silence and his silent sobs. you nodded and smiled again, wiping his tears as he looked down.

"it's okay... i understand..." you assured him as you brought the taller man into a hug, he buried his face into the crook of your neck as you rubbed his back.

maybe you weren't meant to be in this universe. maybe the universe had other plans for the both of you. maybe in the next life... he could finally learn to love you.

he might not love you in this life or universe, the next life and the next one after that but you knew one thing.

you might be the other woman in this universe, in this life. but maybe in another life you could be the one he chose, the one he loved.

you would always be waiting for him.

[moonstruckme]

Hey!! I saw your posts about colour blind!reader and reader with hearing problems and i really love them, I have to wear hearing aids myself so it is really lovely to see some representation!! So I was wondering if you could do remus x reader (or any marauder i don't mind) where the readers hearing aids broke and remus has to help them communicate for the day while they wait to get them fixed? If you aren't comfortable with that don't worry<33

I'm so glad you liked them sweetness, thanks for requesting! Unfortunately I don't have anyone in my life who uses hearing aids that I could consult about this, so I had to rely on the internet and apologize for any inaccuracies <33

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 653 words

“Moony,” James says, cocking his head at you inside Remus’ car. You’re sitting placidly in the passenger seat while the car trembles with bass. “What’s she doing?”

“She likes the vibrations,” Remus replies, carrying a giant tupperware container of chili. Ever since he moved in with Lily, James has taken to “accidentally” making too much of nearly every meal they have so that his friends are forced to come over and take home leftovers. (“I thought the recipe was supposed to be tripled,” James had said over the phone. “You’ve gotta take some off my hands, Moony, it’s gonna go bad.”) 

“She’s gonna be shaking the whole block if she turns that up any louder,” Sirius says, following them out of the house. “How can she stand it?”

“Hearing aids broke yesterday,” Remus explains, opening the passenger door. James flinches at the sound that bursts out, and Remus hands you the chili before reaching around you to turn down the dial on the radio. “We’re waiting for the shop to call so we can pick them up,” he finishes. 

You wave at the boys, and they wave back with smiles somewhat bemused. 

“How bad is her hearing without them?” James asks concernedly. 

You go to respond, having read the question on his lips, but Remus sets a hand on your shoulder. 

Hold on, he signs to you. This will be more fun. 

You roll your eyes, but play along with his game, letting Remus speak for you as if you can’t do it yourself. 

“She can’t hear much of anything,” Remus says. It’s the honest truth, though he neglects to mention that you’re still perfectly capable of speaking and also quite skilled at reading lips even without the aids. “Some loud noises or things with a deep pitch, but not enough to make out speech.” 

“Huh,” James says. “Well, tell her I hope she enjoys the chili.” 

This is great, Remus signs to you. I never get to practice. 

You’re mean, you sign back, even as your lips twitch at the corners.

“She says she’s sure she will,” Remus says. “Thanks for saving us some.” 

James grins. “No problem.” 

“If she really likes vibrations, she should come take a ride on my bike sometime,” Sirius suggests, and he’s smiling, because he knows exactly how Remus will feel about that offer. Remus hates the idea of even Sirius, let alone you, on a motorcycle. “Tell ‘er, Moons.” 

You’re already looking at Remus with a mischievous smile. 

No way, he tells you. Not happening.

Buzzkill, you fingerspell. 

Remus shrugs, and he doesn’t need to sign anything for you to read and what about it? in his expression. 

“Ooh, they’re fighting,” Sirius deduces, laughing darkly. “This sign language stuff isn’t so hard to pick up on, is it Prongs? You can get the general meaning from their faces.” 

Remus plasters on a smile. Not hard? I’ve been learning for two years, he vents to you. 

You give a little laugh. Don’t listen, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. But at least tell him I said thanks for the offer.

Remus turns to Sirius. “She says fuck you.” 

You make a sound of offense, slapping Remus’ arm lightly. 

“Okay, okay,” he relents. “She said thank you for the offer. But no.” 

“It’s crazy,” James says with a little smile. “Everything you’re claiming she says sounds exactly like what you would say if you could choose, Moony.” He glances at you, and you raise your eyebrows like I know, right?

“Alright, we’d better be off,” Remus decides, shutting your door for you and rounding the front of the car. “Thanks for the chili, Prongs. And Pads, your bike is banned to her, so don’t offer again.” 

“Buzzkill,” Sirius calls after him, but Remus pretends not to hear, shutting his door. 

“Hey,” you say, your voice a bit louder than you’d usually allow. You’re grinning at Remus. “That’s exactly what I said!”

[adventuringblind]

i’m a sucker for anything with protective charles, i feel like he would always be looking out for his gf or wife…ugh just the thought? 🫣

Car Crash and a Ferrari Mishap

Charles Leclerc x Driver!reader

Genre: hurt/comfort, fluff

Request: yes and I am also a sucker for this.

Summary: even though Charles knows she drives one of the fastest cars in the world, he can’t help but worry.

Warnings: car crash, injury descriptions, protective Charles, ferrari race engineers not doing their job

Notes: written in third person

Masterlist

It had become a typical thing for Charles to worry. He worried more than people thought he did. His lover, however, knee everything about it because he was mainly worrying about her.

He'd lost so many people in his life already. He struggled with separation anxiety and would panic every time she got sick.

It didn't matter that she's a driver for Ferrari. It didn't matter that she's one of the most talented athletes. He worried about her.

Their relationship was public. Mostly because Lando struggles to keep things tight-lipped. It was a great thing, though, as their team had found. Marketing and content wise, they did some things together that everyone adored.

Working in a male dominated field meant dealing with uncomfortable questions. Ones that.nade Charles' skin crawl. He didn't hesitate to jump in and answer them himself. Sometimes, he and Max would use as a way to banter with each other, effectively angering the reporter or journalist.

Races were always terrifying before he got in the car. He made sure that he saw her before every race and kissed her good luck. Reminding her not to be reckless.

This race happened to be ridiculously hot. It felt like he would melt to the floor every time he stepped into the sun.

He found her before the walked to the grid. "Mon amour, are you sure you can race like this?"

She'd already been feeling faint. She hadn't told Charles, but the team had been controlling her water and food intake. They wanted her weight exact, and she had been over that a few days ago.

He could tell she wasn't feeling well. He always knew when someway off. Regardless, she just smiled at him and kissed his cheek.

It took a few laps before she tried for water. Dissapintment flooding her veins as she got nothing.

"Is the water system not working?"

"Negative, keep pushing."

She sighs in frustration but keeps going. Pushing her hardest.

She was almost there. Fifteen laps left. Her mouth terribly dry. Her mind shut down more with each lap. She needed to finish.

She'd stopped sweating. Her body lacks the required liquids to do so. Everything seemed to move in slow motion.

Then everything went dark.

~

"Red flag Charles, red flag." Xavi announces from the radio.

Charles slows down the car. Hot and tired. He was excited to finish the race, and now he'd have to wait longer.

He pulls into the pits. He was expecting to see her there already. As far as he was aware, she was ahead of him.

He climbs out of the car, immediately asking about her. Nobody could give him a straight answer.

Five minutes and still nothing. Then the replay of the crash came on the screen.

Her body going limp in the car. Her foot is still accelerating down one of the straights. She hits the corner, and the car is spinning. Then nothing.

It looked bad. He knew it was bad. Words of frantic French and Italian leave his lips.

It takes Pierre, Max, and Lando holding him back to keep him in the pits. He was screaming at the race engineers. Asking how that could have happened.

He's kicking and screaming like a child as the boys drag him back to his room. His performance coach tried to get him to slow his breathing. Still fresh off the adrenaline from driving.

"I don't understand." He sobbed.

"She didn't have water." Andrea confesses.

Charles pauses. His brain fitting together all the peices. "Have they been trying to get her to lose weight?"

"Yes, which is odd, I was talking to her coach, who said she was already under what she deemed the lowest weight that was still healthy."

Oh, Charles was furious. It made sense now. Why she'd been so exhausted this past week.

He stormed out of the room. Angry words be yelled at every engineer.

Pierre was translating to the boys who don't know French. All of them also getting angry.

"I retire the car." Charles states. Grabbing his helmet and running out to the crash site.

They still hadn't gotten her out. The front of the car has been smashed in. They had cut the halo off, but her body was jammed at a weird angle. A stray peice of metal had found its way into her arm. Her neck already looked bruised.

Charles was a wreck at this point.

The Marshall's used him as a navigator. He was able to get into the cockpit and move things around. It felt like forever until he was riding with her to the medical center.

He pulled her helmet and balaclava off gently. The white fabric dotted with specks of red.

He held her hand and sobbed the entire ride.

~

He wasn't doing much better when people came by after the race.

He was teary-eyed and nauseous. The nurses kept refilling his water. It felt horribly ironic.

He knew he disappointed his fans. They wanted to see him race, and here he was. Crying over his lover in the hospital.

He just needed to see her.

Sebastian came to see him first. Though he was followed by the one person he really didn’t want to see. Seb and Mattia were talking in hushed voices. Seb looked two seconds away from punching him.

“I don’t want to see you.” Charles announced to his team principle.

“I came to see if she’s okay.”

Charles was going to unleash his anger on the Ferrari principal, but the doctor calling her name interrupted him.

“How is she.” Charles voice was definitely more panicked then he would’ve liked but it was to much effort to hide it and there were no cameras here anyways.

“The bones in her calves are crushed. The cut in her arm has been stitched up but we might need to open it up again to check for any missed metallic bits. Just to air on the side on caution and avoid any infections. She has a severe concussion and is severely dehydrated.” The doctor attempts to explain to him, but Charles is trying to stop himself from panicking. “For what it’s worth, it could have been much worse.”

Charles is brought back to earth by Sebs hand in his shoulder. “You should go see her.” His former teammate nods him along.

~

Charles sits on the uncomfortable plastic chair. His mind wanting to stay awake but his body giving out.

She looked so peaceful sleeping. Her chest rising and falling in even motions.

He almost missed her eyes fluttering open and her hand squeezing his. Charles was standing in a second, trying to stop her from moving to much.

She was panicking. Her heart rate increasing dramatically. Charles sat himself in the edge of her bed. His hand running across her hair.

"The race. Oh god- I'm so sorry."

"No, don't think about that. Just rest." Whoever told her to push so hard without water should be fired.

"Did you win?"

"No, but I don't care. I care that you're awake a safe."

She hums at him. The feeling of his hands bringing a calm sensation back.

"Charles, it hurts."

"I'll go grab a doctor. Don't try to move."

He's out of the room in a flash. Only coming back when he has a nurse in tow.

They up the pain meds and bring her some water. The IV fluids are already helping, but her mouth is so dry that she needs to drink it.

Charles is attentive. He barely leaves her side unless it's absolutely neccecary.

~

[hereforthehitsbaby]

Hoodie | Cooper Adams/Abbott x F!Reader

Gif Credit to @billy-crudup

Synopsis: I can't keep your love / I can't keep your kiss / Gave you everything and all I got was this

Warnings: She’s angsty babe, Mentions of Murder, The Butcher Mentions, Mentions of Suicide, Cheating/Infidelity, SWAT, Guns, Reader 100% is down bad for Cooper even with what he did, It’s giving Stockholm Syndrome but the reader isn’t captured by him

Rating: PG

Word Count: 4.6K

Author’s Note: You know, you can thank my manic episode for this. Also I know the song has a totally different meaning but, my brain took over and who am I to stop her?

If you would like to be tagged, please fill this out

You'd probably think I was psychotic (if you knew) / What I still got in my closet (sad but true) / I slip it on over my shoulders / Something I'll never get over / It makes me feel a little bit closer to you

Loss; the fact or process of losing something or someone. No one knows how to properly process loss – though there are no guidelines on the correct way. It comes in various shapes and sizes – not always as transparent as it is expected to be. That’s what makes the human experience so different across vast networks, everyone processes emotions in ways not one human can comprehend. It’s the equivalent to time, there are so many seconds whirling by, impossible it is to grasp how many different processors truly run for one emotion. Some cry, some wither away to nothing, some lash out, some lose their sobriety. A slim majority does not react, because to them – why would anything good stick around? Why do they deserve it? Abandonment is a fickle bitch, and something you got too used to knowing.

Learning that people weren’t a permanent staple point in life was the worst thing for you, because then you started to expect everyone to leave, at one time or another. Maybe that was the countless times it has happened to you talking but, it’s a feeling that never leaves the back of your mind. It sits there, claws at parts of your brain you’re not supposed to use, sinking deeper and deeper into every soft part of flesh until it blackens. The rot taking over, making you feel helpless until pulling away is the only option. It’s a vicious cycle that you can never seem to break, no matter how hard you try. Which sucks, expecting the worst when you more than deserve the best. And the best came in the form of an amazing, well educated, humble man.

I can't keep your love / I can't keep your kiss / Gave you everything and all I got was this

You never anticipated falling in love with Cooper Adams, or Abbott as he is now known. But sometimes you cannot anticipate destiny, but only let her play out. All it took for you was a kitten stuck in the stone foundation of your home, coming to find out four different litters were calling it home. Cooper was the one to find them, rescue all fifteen of them, and even adopt one for the station. He stayed with you as he helped to clear out the deceased bodies, as you cried holding their little forms for feeding, and as you nursed them back to full health. He was never without you, only living two houses over. Never would he lie about where he was, his wife knew all too well – but refused to get in the way of Logan and Riley seeing the kittens. She suspected, but never could find reason.

All it took for you to realize Cooper was your person, was when you were ready to leave for work and found him under your car, jacked up and tire freshly replaced. You didn’t even realize you had a flat, Cooper saw it before he was about to leave for work. He knew that your car was your lifeline, working over forty minutes away. He wouldn’t let you suffer like that, out in the cold and all, freezing your ass off with cold fingers. No, he tossed on a hoodie and cap, put himself to work and was rewarded with the promise of dinner. He held you to that, to the kitchen table, to the kitchen island, to the couch, the stairs, and lastly the bedroom – all in one night. You both knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t lie to himself; What he and Rachel had was over the second Logan turned four. They were coexisting in the same house, playing their parts to a tee without any hesitation. They kept to themselves, saying goodbyes and I love yous in front of the kids – but they knew it was done. It was you who made Cooper feel alive again – made him feel loved. He had lost that so long ago he wondered if it was real for him anymore. You’d do anything for him; Lie, hide, and even believe.

It was obvious from your fourth month into this affair that Cooper was The Butcher – an accidental slip up of coming back to you smelling of cleaning product. It was only obvious from the slight chemical irritation on his forearms, the small hives a clear reaction. It wasn’t a firehouse cleaning product but more of a hospital type – meaning that he got his hands on heavy duty stuff, which he could’ve only gotten without being suspicious through your account. Working in the medical field was a blessing but, in that moment you thought for a second it was a curse. You could see the glimmer he had for you brighten with the inclusion of tears welling, heartbroken you’d have to be his next victim. But that all changed once you held Cooper’s face in your hands, rubbing back and forth on his cheeks as you smile proudly; “I accept you, my love. We can manage, I won’t tell a soul.” If he had been honest, Cooper didn’t trust you at first. But when days turned into weeks, and those turned into months with no one coming after him, he knew he hit the jackpot.

I'm still rocking your hoodie / And chewing on the strings / It makes me think about you / So I wear it when I sleep / I kept the broken zipper / And cigarette burns / Still rocking your hoodie / Baby, even though it hurts / Still rocking your

Tonight, Cooper was supposed to come home to you after taking Riley to see Lady Raven, something she worked hard for over the course of six months to go. Cooper was so proud of her and the great report card she had gotten, you were proud of her as well. Lady Raven was her idol, someone she found solace in when her preteen angst was acting up. Cooper wanted to do something special for her; A night she would never forget for the rest of her life. You remember Cooper saying he visited the box office at the arena right before they closed, buying the last floor seats – the closest Riley could get to Lady Raven. It was everything he could’ve hoped for and more – though he wished he remembered to remove the receipt from his wallet, hiding it in case Riley found out. You knew he wouldn’t come over automatically, he still needed to keep the façade up, act like he was still a family man even though all he wanted to do once the kids fell asleep, was be with you.

With the concert starting early during the day, you knew Cooper wouldn’t come back to you until later tonight, around ten or eleven depending. But you missed him; The warmth of his body as he hugged you from behind, the weight of his arms against your chest, the soft feel of his stubble scraping along your cheek as he nuzzled your neck. You both were in a completely different world when you were together, at the door was his first life – with you was his second. Cooper was always adamant on the two lives not touching, which you could understand. But sometimes you wished they did, wished you could be involved in his first life without the repercussions, it was a fucked way of thinking but, nothing with Cooper made you feel rational. It made you want to be the only one – though that could never happen. At the end of the day he was coming home to you, not Rachel, and that would have to do.

The brisk October air flowed through the open living room window so quickly you didn’t hesitate to wrap Cooper’s hoodie around your torso, taking in the musky smell of his cologne and the firehouse. Cooper loved seeing you in his clothing, how happy it made you, how the gleam in your eye shone brighter with every second you wore it. When the first feel cold breeze of autumn rolled through your house a few weeks ago, Cooper quickly discarded the hoodie he had recently gotten from the firehouse, marking the eighteenth-year anniversary that he started. No effort was wasted when he came up behind you, sliding it up your arms and zipping it up neatly. For a few seconds he patted the shoulders down over your form, seeing how it hugged you beautifully. In that moment you saw it in his eyes; Love, he was in too deep too. From that day forward, you never stopped wearing it when he wasn’t home, needing to feel closer to him. To be one with him.

I used to put my hand in your pockets (holding on) / The smell of your cologne is still on it (but you're still gone) / I slip it on over my shoulders / Someone I'll never get over / It makes me feel a little bit closer to you

Grabbing at the shoulder of the hoodie, you brought it to your nose for a deep inhale – smiling softly as you smelled Cooper’s cologne, fresh from the other day. Bergamot and pine invaded your nose, causing your eyes to roll back. There was something so intoxicating about his scent, it drove you silently mad in the best way possible – you didn’t want to let that go for anything in the world. It was your way of feeling like he was with you, when he couldn’t be. Your way of grounding yourself in the moment, planning on what you two would do when he came over. Deep into the fantasy you were creating in the moment, you didn’t hear the racing sound of sirens coming down the street – see the bright flashes of red and blue lights flowing through your home, or hear the screaming until it was too late. “Logan, don’t forget to turn in your science project!”

Your ears perked up at the sound of Cooper’s voice, growing giddy at the fact you were going to see him so soon. Opening your eyes you were met with the flashes of police lights coming from the open curtains, your stomach dropping as you heard the garage door close a few houses away. Cooper. Running from the living room to the front door, you slid on your boots quicker than you could have ever guessed, slamming the door open against the wall. With Cooper’s hoodie still wrapped around your body, you walked quickly down the sidewalk where there was a small crowd gathering, seeing a limo, Rachel, Logan, Riley, and even Lady Raven standing outside of the Adams residence, SWAT officers with their guns drawn as they secured the perimeter of the house. You didn’t know what to believe or ask what was going on. But as soon as Riley and Logan ran past you to another woman’s car, you got your answer.

Rachel turned around in slow motion to see Logan and Riley off, in the midst of it all catching your eye in the crowd. Tears were welling in the corners for you, as hers were bloodshot from crying. Her arms wrapped around herself as she let her eyes roam over your torso, seeing the firehouse symbol with the big 18 in yellow font. Her slack face drew up in confusion, then to realization. Your heart was in your throat as you slowly backed away, trying to get a clear angle in the house to see what Cooper was up to. It was only then that everything caught up in your mind. They found out. They all found out Cooper is The Butcher. Your hands grew clammy, starting to shake at what this all meant. If I am ever found out sweetheart, the only way out of it is to kill myself.

I can't keep your love / I can't keep your kiss / Gave you everything and all I got was this / I'm still rocking your hoodie / And chewing on the strings / It makes me think about you / So I wear it when I sleep / I kept the broken zipper / And cigarette burns / Still rocking your hoodie / Baby, even though it hurts

A sob trickled out of your mouth without you realizing, tears falling heavily as you spun around to face your house. No one was giving you any attention as you cried, all probably thinking someone had died. But to you, he was close to it. With shaky fingers you managed to grab your phone out of the hoodie pocket, unlocking it quickly with your passcode. The first number up in your latest calls was Cooper from earlier today; How excited he was to see Riley so happy, how he was going to make her year with this, how did things go so wrong? Clicking on his name, you brought the phone up to your ear, hearing the three rings before it went to voicemail. “Fuck,” you whimpered, sniffling back a sob you could feel at its crest. Swallowing as you clicked his name again, and again, and again, and again, all until your phone screen went black. “Fuck!” You yelled out as you started to make your way back towards your home, but not before someone caught your arm, spinning you around in place.

You could feel how warm your face was from crying, how the salty tears dried against your cheek uncomfortably. You were shivering but not from the cold, from fear of losing Cooper. Blinking the unshed tears from your eyes, you let your pupils focus on who spun you around, being met with the dull eyes of Rachel Adams, her face stoic, yet scared. “How long?” She whispered, afraid to speak up louder. There was only one right answer, yet you couldn’t muster it out of you. Your mouth fell open to respond but, nothing came out. “Please,” Rachel sighed, her lip in a small pout for a moment as she tried to regulate her emotions. A sad smile came across your lips as you reached forth with your empty hand, holding her hand softly. “I think you know, Rachel.” It was better than giving an exact timeline, and enough to where nosy neighbors didn’t have to know either. Rachel let out the breath she was holding, a fresh wave of tears coating her eyes as she tightened her grasp on your hand. It wasn’t out of malice or anger, but closure. Giving you a smile that matched your own, Rachel rubbed your hand in both of hers, nodding before she walked off to the house.

Still rocking your hoodie / And chewing on the strings / It makes me think about you / So I wear it when I sleep / I kept the broken zipper / And cigarette burns / Still rocking your hoodie / Baby, even though it hurts / Still rocking your

It was time for you to do the same; Needing to charge your phone in case Cooper called. You were hoping he didn’t do anything stupid; you were hoping he was okay. “There’s a tunnel to the neighbors yard, he’s not here!” That was the last you heard before stepping back inside.

-----

Nightfall was upon you, the darkened sky matching your mood as you laid on the couch, phone on the coffee table as the news silently drones on in the background. Your eyes were fixated on the TV, fresh tears you had not been aware of were falling, covering the pillow under your head. It had been over two hours since Cooper was found out to be The Butcher. Every new channel was running the story, posting the clips from the venue of Cooper with Riley and Lady Raven. Reporters were outside of the Adams residence, covering every new detail that came up. You were sure that was highly illegal since it was active scene by the FBI, but you couldn’t find yourself to care. Not when your whole life had just been turned upside down. Your boyfriend found out to be a murderer, his wife knowing he was having an affair, everything was a mess.

Any little sound you heard coming from your window you jumped at, hoping it was Cooper. But alas, it was just another reporter staking themselves out on your lawn, wanting a hit of the newest story from this scene. You needed to see the house, everything. You needed to know if this was all real or a bad dream. Laying around on the couch was only going to get you so far – this would give you closure if he was captured, or if something else had happened. Standing up from your position on the couch, you felt yourself getting lightheaded for a moment, shaking off the imbalance for a moment before moving. As you stretched upwards to cracked everything in you, a visceral scream could be heard around the neighborhood – one full of rage and fear, one that made your hairs stand on end. You didn’t think before your feet took off, tripping over your coffee table as you scrambled out of the back door, not caring that it was left wide open. You were taking off quickly down a few houses to where a bigger crowd was starting to form, everyone in their bathrobes and jackets, trying to get in on a piece of the action.

From your angle at Cooper’s house, you couldn’t see what was happening inside but could see multiple SWAT officers going in and out. One of them had long chained handcuffs in their hand, the ones that were attached to the waist and ankles of the prisoner. The clanking of the chains was muted now by the chatter over the radios, quiet enough so not everyone could hear but, if you focused hard enough you could make it out. “The Butcher has been captured. He’s being cuffed now.” In a way you were happy to hear Cooper was just captured, and not dead. You knew how good he was on his word of suicide, not thinking twice about it but, you didn’t want to live without him. The whole life you two wanted to build together, it may not come true now but – that was okay. There was nothing stopping you from visiting him in prison, having conjugal visits – you’d do anything for him.

If you want it back / If you want it back / I'm here waiting / Come take it back / Come take it back / If you want it back / If you want it back / I'm here waiting / Come take it back / Come take it back

The large presence of officers coming out of the house caused you to focus back on the front door, pushing your way to the front of the crowd to see what was going on. Wearing a blue and red flannel, was your Cooper. Not the clean-cut Cooper the forehouse saw, that his family saw – the one always put together and smiling. No, this was your Cooper; Disheveled hair, manic look in his eyes, a smirk that could light the whole world on fire. He was in his true form, not the fake mask he put on for his family. Seeing that gleam of rage in his eyes made you smile softly, knowing exactly what he was capable of. As Cooper walked out of his home and down the front steps, he stopped halfway down the path, turning to face where you were standing. The SWAT officers had AK’s trained on him, threatening to shoot if he tried anything, but you knew they wouldn’t.

Cooper’s gaze fell to Riley’s bike on the lawn, tipped over from all the commotion. Needing to right this wrong, Cooper knelt to pick it back up, running his thick, calloused fingers over the tires, knowing he may never see Riley grow up. It killed him to think about it; He wanted to take this moment in for as long as he could. You saw the trepidation in his eyes as he stared at the bike, running his fingers over the spokes. It’s when his gaze shifted up to you, that you saw the darkness layered – the glimmer of sinister intentions, one that made your lower stomach ignite. “I love you,” Cooper silently said, mouthing to you as your eyes caught his. All you could do was smile, biting your lower lip as the tears sprang free again; Your arms wrapping around your shoulders as you hugged his hoodie tighter to your body. “I love you so fucking much, Cooper,” you whispered back, causing his own eyes to glisten with tears.

I'm still rocking your hoodie / And chewing on the strings / It makes me think about you / So I wear it when I sleep / I kept the broken zipper / And cigarette burns / Still rocking your hoodie / Baby, even though it hurts

Behind you a car pulled up quickly to the scene. Quickly jetting out of the van was a curly, blonde-haired girl – who you knew was Riley. “Daddy!” She sobbed out, running out of the woman’s arms into straight into Cooper’s, his hands chained in front of him. Riley didn’t waste a second to hug Cooper tightly, pressing her tear-stained face into his chest. It was a bittersweet moment; From what Cooper always told you, Riley was his little girl, always valuing his opinion on topics and learning the ways of the world from him. He was wrapped around her finger, and silently it was killing him that this may be the last time he was ever going to see her. Cooper leaned his chin against Riley’s head, kissing the top softly, savoring the moment before it was ripped away. “Riley, come here sweetie,” Rachel called out, causing Riley to pull away as she ran. The SWAT officers hands tightened against Cooper’s arm, he spun around to stare at his family one more time before being loaded into the paddy wagon.

Before that door shut, Cooper held your gaze with a primal glare, causing your heart to quicken. A smirk lined his lips as the door shut, only able to see him through the small window of the wagon. You didn’t feel upset or scared that Cooper was going away, because you knew it was bullshit. That look told you everything you needed to know, and it made you excited. Throwing the hood of Cooper’s jacket over your head, you made your way back to your home, locking the back and front door – closing and locking the windows, heading straight for bed.

I'm still rocking your hoodie / And chewing on the strings / It makes me think about you / So I wear it when I sleep / I kept the broken zipper / And cigarette burns / Still rocking your hoodie / Baby, even though it hurts

-----

Time ticked away as the lights started to die out; The warmth of your salt lamp omitting off cozy energy. Snuggled beneath the comforter, you watched as the last of the police officers and journalists left. The neighborhood had enough craziness for one day, to hear utter silence put you at peace. Everything felt good again; No animosity lingered in the air. But things still felt off, not having Cooper by your side. Watching him get taken away by the police made you sad – but seeing how he said he loved you, made everything so much better. You would wait for him, no matter how long it was going to be. If you had to wait eternity for him, you’d wait two. Cooper was everything to you, and you knew you’d never find love like him again. Even with abandonment heavy on your mind, this time felt different. It wasn’t a slow pullback like everyone else does. No, this was so much less. The look in Cooper’s eyes was a guarantee that he would be with you soon enough, and you’d wait forever to have that.

You felt yourself drifting off to sleep at the thoughts of him, how the previous night he held you close to his chest, playing with your hair as he hummed softly to you. It put you at great ease, feeling so domestic for the first time. The way his right hand boxed you into him, laying right against your stomach. His left was tucked under his head, his chin perched on your shoulder. It was almost as if you could feel the warmth of him now, holding you tightly, peppering kisses along your hairline. His hand snaking its way under your shirt to touch you, rubbing little hearts into your flesh as you sink deeper into him. His broad chest your safe haven, his lips your solace in this dark world, as they move their way down your cheek, to your bare shoulder. “You’re never getting rid of me that easily, princess.” Cooper whispered into your ear, causing your eyes to fling open.

Cooper could feel you tense at the realization he was here, with you, instead of locked up. The excitement vibrating off of you as he helped you turn around. Even with the low light of the lamp next to your bed, you could make out every single feature of Cooper’s face. The lines around his eyes as he smiled at you, the creases of his mouth as his grin grows wider, the softness in his irises as they track a path over your facial features. “I will never leave you, sweet girl. I am with you forever.” Cooper’s voice cracked with emotion as his tears started to fall, the sob slipping from your lips evident enough. Perching against Cooper, you let your lips collide with his in a heated manner, feeling the ever-growing love between the two of you blossomed. The world was gone, silent compared to the beating of two hearts. The autumn light turning into tendrils of golds, browns, and silver cascading through the air, glittering with every touch Cooper laid upon your body. He was your home, he is your safety. He is your world, and nothing could take him from you. “I’m here to stay.” You knew he meant it too. Cooper Adams was a thing of the past, a monster that the media wanted to portray. Cooper Abbott on the other hand was a family man, who was desperately in love with his girl. Philadelphia is where you two made your home, but your true adventure starts with the move to Minnesota. Your future now getting started.

Still rocking your hoodie / And chewing on the strings / It makes me think about you / So I wear it when I sleep / I kept the broken zipper / And cigarette burns / Still rocking your hoodie / Baby, even though it hurts / Still rocking your hoodie

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