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

sehnsuchts-trunken · 6 months ago

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(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.

"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?"

#twisters #twisters 2024 #tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens twisters #x reader

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supernovafics · 27 days ago

Text

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 4.1k words

summary: in which you and steve are not together, but sometimes— most of the time— you two find your way to each other. it all feels surprisingly okay until the guilt starts to sink in

warnings: explicit language, cheating (both reader and steve are cheating on their partners), implied smut, a bit of drunk!steve, a lot of angst

author’s note: i love when i get an idea and it consumes my brain so much that i simply cannot do anything except write it lol enjoy this thing that may or may not eventually get a part two<3 idk<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

You were starting to feel bad about it. Not bad enough to stop it, but bad nonetheless.

In the end, when this inevitably blew up, a lot of people would be affected, but when you were alone with Steve you found it too hard to force yourself to care about all of that. When you two were alone in your car in the middle of the night or alone in his bedroom because his parents weren’t home, you never cared about just how terrible all of this was.

That was why it wasn’t until you were walking down the hallway hand in hand with your boyfriend and you spotted Steve and Nancy lingering by what you could only assume was her locker and she was smiling so happily up at him, that you finally felt a little bad.

You looked away quickly and pretended as if you hadn’t seen them in the first place; pushing his face and especially hers far out of your mind. Instead, you focused on Jamie and listened as he talked about a history test on Friday that he didn’t feel prepared for and how his parents would go ballistic if he didn’t pass. You promised to help him study later tonight— like you always did, from the moment you two met and became friends in seventh grade— and he smiled, leaning down to peck your lips as he called you the best.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

You really didn’t like thinking about how everything started with Steve. In your head, you were okay with simplifying it to one day you weren’t cheating on your boyfriend with Steve Harrington and the next day you were. Somehow that thought process made it easier; it made what you and Steve were doing feel more mindless than it actually was.

But, just because you didn’t like thinking about the beginning didn’t change how it happened.

It was a New Year’s Eve party at Sam Richards' house.

You’d shown up alone because Jamie was out of town with family and had been since Christmas. Initially, you were supposed to go with them, but then at the last second, your parents decided to be festive and wanted you to be home for Christmas and the entirety of the holiday break. Weirdly enough, though, it hadn’t been as unbearable as you thought it would be.

However, you were on your own for New Year’s because your dad had a work party that was “adults only.” You honestly didn’t mind though because the thought of being stuck with a bunch of random middle-aged people sounded horrible. So, you instead decided to get stuck with a bunch of people your age, which maybe was just a different kind of bad.

You heard about the party through a friend of a friend who didn’t even show up. The party was rowdy and boring, which were two words that probably didn’t make sense in the same sentence, but in this instance they surprisingly did.

Eventually, you ended up sitting on the rusty old swing set in the backyard, away from the music and drunk teens. Your sneaker-covered feet pushed into the grass, making you swing a little. You didn’t want to do too much because, with the amount of squeaking the swing was making, it felt as if it was on its last few days of life.

Because of that squeaking and the fact that you were looking at the ground, you didn’t hear or see Steve walk up to you.

You noticed him when he was only a few feet away, and you were more confused than startled when he sat down in the open swing next to you.

“Two minutes to midnight.”

Those were not the first words Steve Harrington had ever said to you. Instead, those had been, “So what do we have to do?” after you two got paired up on a project for English last year. It was two weeks worth of meetups in the library that led to you two getting a B+ and never speaking again.

Until now, apparently.

“Fun,” You said because what else were you supposed to say? This entire moment didn’t really make a lot of sense to you.

You looked at Steve sitting next to you. The swing continued to squeak as he started lightly rocking back and forth. The second he met your gaze, you looked away.

“Where's your boyfriend? Jessie something, right?”

“Jamie,” You corrected him. “He's out of town with family for the holidays. Where's your girlfriend? Mary something?”

You knew it was Nancy. Everyone knew it was Nancy. They were the talk of the school and a cliche case— smart girl falling for the popular guy, also known as the plot to one too many romcoms.

For some reason, though, you didn’t want Steve to know that you inadvertently paid attention to him just like everyone else at your school.

“Nancy,” He corrected you. “And she’s also at some family thing.”

You only nodded in response and things became quiet.

“Y’know, apparently it’s bad luck to not kiss someone when the clock strikes twelve,” Steve said, filling the air of silence.

You ignored his random tidbit, which you weren’t sure was real or not. “Why did you come out here?”

His shoulders upturned in a quick shrug. “You looked bored out here. And I was bored in there.”

You could faintly hear the countdown start in the living room, everyone starting from sixty.

The next words that should have left your lips should’ve been, “I have a boyfriend. I can't kiss you.” But, instead, you didn’t protest when Steve silently took hold of the chain of your swing and pulled it toward him so that you two were closer.

You could’ve changed your mind and pushed him away, you should’ve changed your mind and pushed him away, but you decided not to think about it too much. When you heard the countdown get to one and everyone followed up by shouting, “Happy New Year!”, you were inwardly saying fuck it and kissing Steve Harrington in Sam Richards’ backyard.

It was meant to be innocent, a simple peck just so you both could avoid this “bad luck” that Steve talked about, and it was completely innocent and chaste at first. Until your hand impulsively found Steve's cheek and you deepened the kiss and he didn’t stop you.

He tasted like cigarettes and champagne, a surprisingly comforting combo, and his free hand moved to your waist, slipping underneath your coat and knit sweater. The feeling of his cold hand against your skin made you inadvertently shiver; you’d forgotten just how cold it was outside.

“Sorry,” He muttered against your lips.

It was the first word spoken in the last minute and it somehow managed to wake your mind up and made your thoughts finally start catching up to what was happening in this moment. You quickly realized that anyone could potentially see you two out here and even though the party inside sounded just as loud and lively as it had earlier, it was still a possibility that you two could get caught.

You pulled back from the kiss and met Steve’s gaze. “We can’t do this here.”

It was the ‘here’ part of your sentence that fully piqued Steve’s interest.

He stood up from the swing and reached his hand out for you to grab. “Come on.”

You slipped your hand in his and let him lead you out of the backyard and away from the house completely. It took you way too long to realize that he was taking you to his car that was parked down the street. He pulled the backseat door open and let you get inside first.

You forced yourself not to think about anything aside from how good Steve’s mouth felt on yours and how you liked feeling his cold hands against your skin, traveling from your hips to your waist to your back and pulling you closer to him.

Seconds blended into minutes and you suddenly weren’t sure how long you’d been in his backseat and how long you had kept nearly bumping your head against the roof every time you slightly shifted in his lap.

It didn’t make sense to you how okay this all felt. You hadn’t spoken more than a handful of words to Steve since last year, and yet you felt entirely comfortable with him right here in this moment.

It didn’t make sense that night and it also didn’t make sense the one after that when you saw him again and you two did a lot more than just make out in the backseat of his car.

However, what did feel certain was the fact that everything suddenly happening between you two wasn’t meant to be anything more. You knew that you and Steve wouldn’t make sense in the daytime or in the real world. He made sense with Nancy and you made sense with Jamie. That was just the way things worked and both of you unspokenly agreed on that.

It was only in private when you two surprisingly did make sense, and in some ways, it felt like a no-brainer. Of course, you’d see Steve most nights and during fleeting moments at school. Of course, you’d kiss or do more with him for what felt like hours in his house or your own car. Of course, you’d feel comfortable in his bed with his arms wrapped around you as you two ended up talking about nothing for hours.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

You found the note in your locker halfway through third period. You asked your History teacher if you could go to the bathroom and then you headed to your locker instead of the bathrooms that were in the opposite direction because you just knew that something would be in it.

Meet me. Bathroom. – Steve

The first time he sent a note that basically resembled that one, you laughed because how the hell were you supposed to know what bathroom he meant or when?

And that was exactly what you told him that night when you two were in your car and he playfully pouted at you, asking why he didn’t get to see you at school. And then he let out a soft “Oh” with his own laugh when he realized that you were right and he didn’t tell you where to go or give you a time.

From there on out, the bathroom by the gym became your and Steve's meeting place. It was usually always empty because most people opted for using the bathrooms in the gym locker rooms since they were bigger.

After the first few times you met him there, there was really no reason for Steve to leave notes for you because the place and time was always the same, but you still kind of liked that he did.

When you walked in at the start of sixth period instead of going to study hall, Steve was already leaning against the sink.

He smiled when he saw you and you couldn’t help but think that that was the same smile that he’d been giving Nancy earlier; it was the same one he probably always gave her, his girlfriend.

There was no greeting; no softly spoken “Hi’s” or anything. Instead, Steve was pulling you close and slotting his lips against yours and then shifting you two around so that you were pressed against the sink.

You savored it just for a second before you pulled away.

“Wait,” You abruptly started and put your hands on his chest to put some distance between you two. “I, um, I think we should stop this.”

Apparently, you were feeling more than just a little bad about everything.

Steve’s hands fell from your hips and it was easy to read the surprised look on his face, which definitely made sense because it did seem as if your words were coming entirely out of left field.

“Oh,” He said. The surprised look fell from his face after the quickest moment. “Oh, okay. Yeah, that’s fine.”

His nonchalance toward the situation made it all feel a thousand times easier. Maybe he didn’t really care about all of this, and that should’ve made you feel okay and good and perfectly fine, but if you were being entirely honest with yourself it didn’t make you feel any of that.

“Okay, cool,” You responded with a forced smile instead of taking your words back or doing anything else about them. “Good to know we’re on the same page.”

He gave you a quick nod. “Yeah.”

For a second, it was hard to do what you needed to do next, but then you were finally moving away from Steve. No sort of “Goodbye” fell from your lips because it weirdly felt too hard to say the word right then.

Keep walking. Keep walking. Keep walking.

The two words played on repeat in your head as you forced yourself to leave the bathroom.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Steve was throwing rocks at your window. You didn’t even have to look to know it was him. There was no one else it could be.

Jamie knocked and walked through your front door like a normal person, and then he’d talk to your parents for the obligatory amount of time that was considered polite (even after being friends for so long and then dating for that past year he was still kinda scared of your dad), and then he’d greet you.

He would not throw rocks at your window.

The smallest part of you was glad that Steve was at least doing this now instead of ten minutes earlier when Jamie was still here studying because that would’ve ruined everything for you. However, Steve being here now still pissed you off nonetheless.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You whisper-yelled when you were standing in front of him in your front yard. You adjusted the hoodie that you haphazardly slipped on in your quick race down the stairs. “My parents are home.”

If he really wanted to, he could’ve called you out on how bad of an excuse that was because there had been many prior moments where your parents' presence hadn’t been that concerning to you. It wasn’t like they checked on you periodically throughout the night, so if you left in the middle of the night, all you had to do was make sure you were back by morning.

Steve didn’t remind you of any of that, though. Instead, he said, “I just— I just wanted to tell you something.”

There was something about the way he was talking and his stance right then that made you give him a look. “Are you drunk?”

He answered with the most unconvincing “No” ever and you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes.

“How did you get here?”

“Walked,” he answered and you nodded, relieved that he didn’t drive, and then you felt kind of annoyed for caring. You really didn’t want to care about him anymore.

“So… you, uh, wanted to tell me something?” You asked him. The faster the conversation started, the faster it could be over and he could leave your front yard.

“Oh, yeah,” He nodded. “I just— I wish you hadn’t ended things with us today.”

His words confused you because he had seemed perfectly fine about it all earlier. Your eyebrows furrowed. “But, we agreed—“

“I know,” He interrupted you. “I know, and I get it, I guess. But, I just don’t want you to think that it’s easy for me to let you and what we had go. It isn't easy. At all. I didn’t realize how much I really like you and how much I love what we had until you decided to end it.”

You wondered if he was only admitting that because he was drunk; maybe he wouldn’t have said any of that to you otherwise. But, either way, at least he had the guts to say what you’d been too scared to. You hadn’t even really admitted it to yourself, how much you liked and cared about him. As much as you wanted to pretend that what you two had been doing was mindless and didn’t really mean anything, it was actually the complete opposite; of course, it was.

You still had to look away from him in this moment, though, because you weren’t drunk and it felt too hard to admit the truth like he was. “Steve…”

“What changed?” He asked after a moment of what felt like unbearable silence. “Yesterday, we were fine, right?”

You refused to answer his questions because you really didn’t want to rehash everything right then; how your suddenly guilty brain made you impulsively end things with him. You honestly wanted to just forget about everything.

You shook your head as you sighed. “Let me drive you home, Steve.”

Your words were soft, probably too soft. You wanted to be mean to him, you wanted to push him away; you knew that it would make things easier. But, you couldn’t.

“Can we walk?”

“Sure, but if you stumble and fall I'm not picking you up.”

He laughed a little as he nodded. “Understandable.”

You shouldn’t be joking with him, you shouldn’t even be talking to him, but here you were.

Things were quiet for a few moments, and you figured that maybe this ten-minute walk wouldn’t be too bad. Maybe it would stay silent and you’d say an actual final goodbye to him once you were at his front door and then you two would never talk again; essentially a sort of repeat of what happened last year in English class.

“So, can I know what happened?” Steve asked, breaking the quiet and ruining what you had hoped would happen for the next ten minutes. Apparently, he wasn’t going to let this go until you either told him the truth about what was going on in your head or lied about it all.

You let out a long breath; you couldn’t find it in you to lie to him in this moment. “I finally realized that we’re shitty people for doing this.” Steve didn’t say anything at first so you took that as your cue to keep going. “You love Nancy and I love Jamie and everything that we’ve been doing for the past month isn’t fair to them and it’s so fucked up. We’re selfish and terrible people, and I kinda hate that this ever started in the first place.”

Finally saying it all out loud made it feel a thousand times more real and certain to you. At least, most of it felt that way. You knew just how shitty all of this was, but you weren’t sure if you’d ever completely regret any of it happening.

“You don’t love him, though,” Steve said. “At least that’s what you told me that one night.”

You were now learning that Steve Harrington was a good listener, and even with his current inebriation, his memory was still surprisingly good too.

“That doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change how horrible I feel about all of this.”

You were talking, but all you could think about was the conversation that Steve was referring to. A post-sex conversation that you two had a few weeks ago as you and him were half-naked in the backseat of your car that was parked at Lovers Lake.

It doesn’t feel right anymore, and I don’t know, maybe it never fully did. I just want to go back to how things were before. But, it feels impossible to tell him any of that. He really loves me, and even though I don't feel the same way anymore, I don’t want to hurt him or break his heart. He's still my best friend. I'll always love him like that.

It was hard to remember what Steve said in response to that or if he even said anything at all. All you could remember was that the second the words left your mouth, you wanted to forget about it. You’d been way too honest, saying things that you had never admitted out loud before, but somehow you were admitting them to Steve.

“You’re right,” He said to you now. “We are bad people for doing this.”

Things became quiet then because what else was there really to say? You both were in agreement.

You two continued walking the short distance to his house. When he started going off course a bit too much, stepping on and off of people’s yards instead of staying on the sidewalk, you grabbed his hand to keep him close and steady.

You didn’t drop it once you two were at his front door or even when he asked you to come inside. Against your better judgment, you silently let him lead you into his house. You toed off your shoes at the door like you always did and then followed him up the stairs. You told yourself that you were just making sure he made it into bed alright.

“You okay?” You asked once you two were in his room.

You were just wondering if he was feeling dizzy or needed to throw up, but Steve took your question in an entirely different way.

He shook his head. “I miss you.”

“I’m right here.”

“Okay, I’m gonna miss you.”

“I…” You let out a soft sigh. “I don’t know what you want me to say to that.”

You wished that he would kick you out, or even yell at you. If he was mean to you, it’d make it easier to leave his house, to leave him. Deep down you knew that he would never do that, though.

“Why can’t we just…” He trailed off for a second, and you were certain that he forgot where he was going with his words, but then he continued. “Do this?”

“Do what?” You asked, even though you had a feeling what he meant but you hoped you were wrong.

“Be together for real,” He said, and in an entirely different world it would’ve made you happy hearing that, but in this world his statement only made things feel so much more complicated. “We won’t be bad people anymore if we just stop lying.”

For the briefest second, you imagined saying yes and agreeing with him, and for that quick second, the thought actually sounded really nice.

“Or we won’t be bad people anymore if we just stop everything,” You told him instead of being honest and admitting that you liked him a lot more than you had ever led on, and that even though you had wanted this to mean nothing, you had also really enjoyed the nights where you two talked for hours upon hours about anything.

“Okay,” He said, no longer debating your words and simply accepting them for what they were.

You nodded and then the simple word fell from your lips too. “Okay.”

That was definitely your cue to leave, but you didn’t say any kind of “goodbye” and neither did Steve. It was obvious that things were different, but they didn’t entirely feel that way just yet, so that made you stay.

“Do you want me to leave?” You asked softly after a few moments of just watching him move about his bedroom, pulling off the jacket he was wearing and hanging it on the back of his door.

Steve shook his head, meeting your eyes again. “No, I’ll always want you to stay.”

You couldn’t help but give him a small smile and a simple nod as a way to say “Okay.” You knew that this entire interaction was sending nothing but mixed signals, but your mind was a mess of contradictions and only felt confused, and you just really didn’t want to think too much anymore.

It was warm in his room, so you pulled off your hoodie, leaving you in just your t-shirt and shorts, and you hung it up where his jacket was on his door. Silently, you joined him at his bed, settling yourself and laying down in the spot that you’d been in more times than you could count at this point.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered in the darkness after a while. “That things can’t be different.”

Steve moved closer to you, slipping an arm around your waist. “They could be.”

“I know,” You finally admitted, leaning into his touch. “But, it’s just too hard.”

He didn’t ask you to elaborate on what you meant, probably because he understood or he was just tired of this constant back and forth.

You told yourself that you’d only stay for five minutes. And when five minutes turned to ten, you told yourself that you at least wouldn’t fall asleep.

But, of course, you did. You felt too comfortable and at ease in Steve’s arms not to.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

part two!

let me know ur thoughts<333

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff

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bejeweledblondie · 1 year ago

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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

5K notes · View notes

sturnsstar · 5 months ago

Text

Adore You ✶ Matt Sturniolo (NSFW)

⋆.˚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! :)

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #matt x reader #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut #matt smut

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luveline · 1 year ago

Note

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."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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hannieehaee · 1 month ago

Note

How about when wonu goes to meet up with reader's whole family for the first time but he notices how the reader's aunts/uncles keep body shaming her casually and even though the reader is uncomfy she doesn't say anything. What would wonu's reaction be like?

content: bf!wonwoo, mentions of negative talk from family, hurt with comfort, fluff, etc.

wc: 511

a/n: very short but i found the concept very cute!!

masterlist

the car ride was filled with silence. it'd been a while since either of you had last spoken.

usually, this would be comfortable silence. but this time around, it felt like there was an extra weight behind it.

you knew it was your fault, but you simply couldn't get yourself to speak.

you were quietly thankful that wonwoo had taken that first step.

"are you okay?", he asked, eyes turning to your for a few seconds before going back to the road ahead.

you don't respond. you feel like a child, but you don't.

wonwoo waits a beat or two before speaking again.

"i'm sorry."

and that throws you for a loop.

you sit up from your slouched position, now allowing your body language to open itself up to him. you face him as he drives, curiosity in your eyes.

"why are you sorry?"

"i should've stood up for you," his voice is soft, worried, "i didn't know if it was my place. i've never met your family before, but i'm your boyfriend. i should've said something."

before he's finished, you're shaking your head. there was no argument here.

"what? wonwoo, no. you didn't do anything wrong. i'm sorry if i-"

"you know none of it is true, right?", his eyes found you again, taking turns between you and the road, "your aunts, uncles. hell, even your mom. they were all out of place," he reassured.

you went quiet again. your hands itched. it was a bad habit, to pick at your nails, at your skin, but you couldn't help it. you looked down at your hands as you did it.

then suddenly, a larger hand appeared and held onto them, squeezing comfort into them.

"does this happen often?", he hesitated.

"sometimes. i tune it out mostly. it was just ... i didn't think they'd do it in front of you," you shrugged sadly.

"i don't believe any of it," he reassured, "i hope you know that. i think you're perfect."

keeping a hold on his hands, you caressed them in a thankful manner.

"i know, wonwoo," you smiled back at him.

silence filled up the car again, but this time it was comfortable. comforting, even.

"i'm not mad at you, wonwoo," you decided to clarify.

"i know, baby. but, still. i should've stood up for you. said something, anything."

the insistence made you smile. it was nice to know you had him in your corner. that any offense to you felt like offense to him.

"i might have to fight your uncle next time we visit," he jested, "your parents are out of the question, but your uncle? i think i could take him."

the silly man puffed up his chest to prove his point, pulling a laugh out of you. the first one this night.

"hey, that's better," he mirrored your smile, "that's the only thing i wanna see for the rest of the night."

and that wouldn't be a difficult feat. not when wonwoo constantly ensured to extinguish your sadness any time it made an appearance in your life.

#seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen oneshot #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo oneshot #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo scenario

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loveinhawkins · 9 months ago

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”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.

#on struggling with the aftermath #the trust in falling asleep in front of someone ❤️#this may have a second part #a lil anxiety soothing stuff ❤️#pre steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson

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seungfl0wer · 6 months ago

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*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🩵

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hoodoo12 · 6 months ago

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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.

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 . . .

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice x reader #writing #fanfiction

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dollwhite · 9 days ago

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BRAT

chapter two 🎀 part one is on my account

made by Dollwhite

As you’re walking towards the black BMW that is sitting in-front of Gotham Academy. The dreadful feeling started to sat in, it felt bitter. You known what you did was wrong, but you couldn’t help it. They asked you for help, Winnie and Theodore took you in. They took you into their friend group, when they didn’t have to.

They saw you didn’t have any real friends. so they became you real friends.And you’ve all been friends for about 5 months

You didn’t care what background they came from , you just wanted

FRIENDS. real friends not fake, not the ones that wanted to make connections with the Wayna family.

you know you wear in for it when you got in that car. You know the minute you close that car door, he was going to rip into you. But…you don’t care. He could take away you allowance, he could take away your phone, he could take away anything. But it would be ok.

because you would still have your real friends with you. And because you all were inseparable.

“..I’m not mad, just disappointed. [Reader] you are 15, you should know better than to let people copy off your tests. No matter if they’re your friends or not.”

“I’M NOT MAD JUST DISAPPOINTED.”

Was a phrase you heard a lot while growing up. It’s not like you were bad, sometimes THEY said it for the most simple reasons. Like once you dropped a glass plate, they made you clean it up with only your hands.

You were five.

“I don’t want you hanging out with those kids, they are bad influences.”

HATE

That’s all you could feel in that moment. You finally get real friends

And HE just wants you to throw it all away? When HE hasn’t been in your life. He wasn’t there when you got your first Period, does he even know how scared you were. He’s never been to a parent teacher conference.

But he made sure to never miss one of Damian’s, or Tim’s, or Cass. Hall he even went to Jason’s. But never to one of yours.

“Why because they gave me a belly piercing?” You ask the words just flying out of your lips. “No because you helped them cheat- THEY GAVE YOU WHAT”!? He yelled, stopping the car in front of the Wayne Manor.

“NOTHING THEY GAVE ME NOTHING”

shit you fucked up.

YOU. FUCKED.UP

your fucked, he was talking about the fucking test but you just had to go and make it about you. How were you gonna play this off?..

“Get. In. The. House. Now.” He started his hands wrapping around the car steering wheel.

“ Dad” you hesitated. You haven’t called him dad since you noticed how… you both just won’t that close. You looked at him and all the other kids and they’re just different, they all have at least one of the same interests. But you? You’re not a vigilante, you were never Robin. The closest thing you got is Alfred teaching you hand to hand combat, for when you out with your friends and something happens.

Hiii guys, it’s short ikkkkkk 😓 but um I finally got some dividers!!!!! um and I said I would draw Winnie but um all of the drawings I did just didn’t feel like Winnie so I don’t think ima post them 😭. Hope you had a wonderful day or night. 💗 readers: Dolly u said the batboys were going to be in this chapter?

Me: ohhhh..that’s what i was forgetting 😟..

readers: …

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ericshoney · 7 months ago

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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.

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satoruhour · 1 year ago

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*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.

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