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[rootedinrevisions]

What's Mine

SUMMARY: After months of secretly seeing each other, you and Tyler find yourselves caught between professional boundaries and personal desires. When a flirtatious rival pushes Tyler's jealousy to the surface, he claims you in a way that leaves no doubt about your relationship status-to you or anyone else.

A/N: sorry that these requests are taking so long! I appreciate everyone's patience as I try to juggle writing with Thank you to the person who sent the request for this one in. This one came from the prompt “I’m not the jealous type, but what’s mine is mine.” I've had this one mostly done for a while (like a week or so) but the scene at the end just wasn't coming together the way I wanted it to. But I think I'm finally happy with the final result. Hope you like it! xx

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. Cursing (I assume, I'm not positive though). Smut (P in V, Unprotected)

WORD COUNT: 5.4k

TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell: Himself (RPF), Characters He's Played

Twisters: Tyler Owens, Boone, Scott, Javi

Top Gun: Maverick: Rooster, Hangman, Bob

Marvel/MCU: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

WWE/Wrestling: Cody Rhodes, Corey Graves, Damian Priest, Drew McIntyre, Finn Balor, Jimmy Uso, Jey Uso, Kevin Owens, L.A. Knight, Pat McAfee, Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins (if there is someone you're thinking of from WWE and they aren't on the list feel free to ask! There are so many guys on the roster that these were the ones that came to mind.)

The bar was alive with energy, the hum of conversation and laughter mixing with the low strains of a country tune from the jukebox. Boone, Dani, Dexter, and Lily were engrossed in a heated pool game, their competitive banter rising above the noise. You and Tyler had claimed a small table near the edge of the room, tucked away just enough to let you watch the chaos unfold.

Tyler sat back in his chair, nursing a Budweiser. His long fingers tapped idly against the glass bottle, his eyes scanning the room with the kind of quiet intensity he always carried. You were close enough to feel his presence, that steady, grounding calm he exuded without even trying. But far enough apart to not draw suspicion from the rest of the team.

Your drink was nearly gone, and you stood, brushing your hand lightly over his shoulder. “I’m getting another. You want one?”

He glanced up at you, his lips quirking into a faint smile. “Nah, I’m good. Thanks, darlin’.”

You nodded and made your way toward the bar. It was busy, and a line was forming as people crowded to get the bartender’s attention. You leaned against the counter, letting out a soft sigh as you waited.

“Hell of a storm today, huh?”

The voice came from your right, smooth and friendly. You turned to find a man standing beside you, his elbow resting on the bar. He was tall, with a confident grin and a storm-chaser logo stitched onto his jacket—a rival team.

“Yeah,” you replied, keeping your tone polite but neutral. “Definitely one to remember.”

“Bet you’ve got some good footage from it,” he said, his grin widening as he leaned in slightly. “You’re with Owens’ team, right?”

You nodded, not bothering to hide the pride in your voice. “That’s right.”

“Lucky guy,” he said, his gaze lingering just a little too long. “I mean, you guys have a solid team. And... well, looks like you’re not just good at chasing storms.”

You raised an eyebrow, your smile tight. “Appreciate the compliment.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught movement—Tyler. He was still at the table, but his body language had shifted. His posture was no longer relaxed; he sat forward slightly, his fingers wrapped tightly around the neck of his beer bottle. His sharp green eyes were locked on you, his expression unreadable but intense.

The man at the bar didn’t seem to notice. He continued, his voice low and smooth. “If you ever get tired of running with Owens, maybe you should give our team a shot. We’ve always got room for someone like you.”

You let out a dry laugh. “Thanks but I’ll pass. I’m pretty happy where I am.”

The man didn’t back off, his grin turning slightly smug. “Well, if you ever change your mind—or just feel like grabbing a drink sometime—”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” you cut him off firmly, turning back to the bar as the bartender handed you your drink.

You glanced over your shoulder toward Tyler. He was still watching, his jaw tight, the muscle ticking in his cheek. His eyes flicked briefly to the man beside you before returning to yours. There was no mistaking the tension radiating from him.

You gave the man a polite nod before stepping away, leaving him at the bar as you made your way back to Tyler.

As you approached, Tyler’s gaze never left you. He set his beer down, his fingers drumming once against the table before he stood.

“Everything good?” he asked, his voice casual, but there was an edge to it—a quiet undertone that only you would catch.

“Fine,” you replied with a small smile, though you couldn’t resist teasing him just a little. “Why do you ask?”

He shrugged, his expression neutral, but his eyes gave him away. “No reason.”

You took a sip of your drink, watching him over the rim of the glass. His attention briefly flicked past you, toward the bar where the man still lingered. Tyler’s jaw tightened again, and he looked back at you, his gaze steady.

You raised an eyebrow, fighting the urge to smile. “You sure? Because you look like you’ve got something on your mind.”

Tyler didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stepped closer, his hand brushing lightly against your lower back as he leaned in. “Let’s dance,” he said, his voice low and firm.

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “Dance?”

“Yeah,” he said, already guiding you toward the dance floor. His hand stayed on your back, the contact warm and steady as he maneuvered you through the crowd.

The dance floor was dimly lit, strings of lights crisscrossing overhead and casting a warm glow over the couples swaying to the music. The song was slow and soft, a welcome contrast to the energy of the bar. Tyler stopped just at the edge of the dance floor, turning to face you.

“Here?” you asked, feigning nonchalance even as your heart gave a little leap at the intent in his eyes.

“Here,” he confirmed, sliding his hands to your waist.

He pulled you closer, the motion smooth and confident, and suddenly the crowded bar felt a lot smaller. You placed your hands on his shoulders, your fingers brushing against the soft, worn fabric of his flannel. The scent of him—faint cologne, beer, and the outdoors—wrapped around you, grounding you in the moment.

The two of you moved together, the rhythm of the song dictating the slow, deliberate steps. Tyler’s grip on your waist tightened slightly, his thumb brushing against the hem of your shirt where it met your skin. His other hand rested lightly on your back, keeping you pressed against him.

But there was something in the way he held you tonight—something different. His movements were just a little firmer, his grip a little more possessive. You felt it in the tension radiating from him, in the way his eyes stayed locked on yours.

“You’re tense,” you teased, tilting your head to study him.

“I’m fine,” he said, his voice a little too even, his expression unreadable.

Your lips quirked into a small smile. “You sure? Because you’ve been glaring at the bar like it owes you money.”

That earned a soft huff of laughter from him, but he didn’t deny it. Instead, his gaze flicked past you, just for a moment. Curious, you glanced over your shoulder and spotted the storm chaser from earlier still lingering at the bar, his eyes darting toward you and Tyler on the dance floor. When you turned back to Tyler, his jaw was tight again, his green eyes darker than usual.

“Oh my God,” you said, the realization dawning. A grin spread across your face. “You’re jealous.”

His lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. “No, I’m not.”

“You so are,” you teased, leaning in just a little closer. “You’ve been staring him down ever since I got back.”

Tyler’s hand on your waist slid a fraction higher, pulling you tighter against him. His voice dropped, low and rough. “I’m not the jealous type,” he said, his eyes locking on yours, “but what’s mine is mine. And I didn’t like how he was looking at what’s mine.”

Your breath caught at the intensity in his tone, but you weren’t about to let him off the hook so easily. “What’s yours?” you asked, your voice light but laced with challenge. "Not sure I know what you mean."

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, his hand slid up your back, his other hand combing up and his thumb brushing along your jawline. The touch was intimate, deliberate. “You know exactly what I mean,” he murmured, his voice just loud enough for you to hear.

You smiled, though your heart was pounding. “Do I? Because last I checked, there’s no label on this... whatever this is. We’re just keeping things casual, remember?”

His eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of amusement breaking through his tension. “You’re pushing your luck.”

“Am I?” you countered, tilting your head as if to test him. “Because I’m thinking maybe I’ll let him buy me my next drink. He seemed nice. Even offered to let me ride with him if I want.”

Tyler’s grip on you tightened, his jaw clenching visibly. “You better watch that mouth of yours,” he warned, his voice low and steady, “before it gets you into trouble.”

You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. Leaning in closer, you let your hand rest on his chest, your fingers brushing over the soft fabric of his flannel. The touch was casual enough to appear innocent, but the way his eyes darkened told you he didn’t take it that way.

“What kind of trouble?” you asked softly, your voice teasing but edged with genuine curiosity.

Tyler’s lips twitched into a small, almost dangerous smile. He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. “If you keep running that little mouth of yours,” he said, his voice low and deliberate, “I’m gonna take you against the nearest surface I can find. And trust me, darlin’, I’ll make sure everyone—including him—knows exactly who you belong to. So unless you want us both taking a ride for indecent exposure tonight, I'd suggest you knock it off.”

A shiver ran down your spine, his words leaving you momentarily speechless. Before you could recover, the song shifted, transitioning into a faster tempo. Tyler pulled back, the satisfied glint in his eyes unmistakable as he saw the look on your face.

He grinned, spinning you out in a smooth twirl under his arm before pulling you back against him. His confidence was infuriatingly attractive, and you couldn’t help but smile despite yourself.

And then, without warning, he dipped you low, his hand steady at your back as he leaned in and kissed you. The kiss was firm and unapologetic, a silent claim that left no room for doubt to anyone looking.

When he pulled back, his hand still cradling your back, you blinked up at him, your breath uneven. His gaze softened slightly, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

“So,” he said, his voice quieter now but no less firm. “Are you done being a brat, or do I need to make things even more official?”

You laughed softly, your hand sliding up to the back of his neck. “I don’t know,” you teased, still catching your breath. “I kind of like seeing you jealous.”

Tyler’s hand stayed firmly on your back as he guided you off the dance floor, weaving through the clusters of people. You were still reeling from the kiss—your lips tingling, your heart racing. His confidence had left you breathless, but there was also something grounding about his presence, his solid grip on you as though letting go wasn’t an option.

As you reached your table at the edge of the bar, Tyler pulled you into a quieter corner where the music softened to background noise. His hand lingered on your waist, his thumb brushing idly over your hip as if staking his claim.

“Subtle,” you teased, leaning against the wall. “You think that was enough for him to get the message?”

Tyler’s lips twitched into a small smirk, his green eyes glittering with amusement. “Don't care. I wasn’t doing it for him,” he said, his tone low and deliberate.

For a moment, you forgot the noise of the bar, the crowd, and even the guy who had been flirting with you earlier. All you could focus on was Tyler—his steady gaze, the way his hand still rested on your hip, and the unspoken promise in the way he stood so close to you.

“So, what was that all about then?” you asked, tilting your head, your voice softer now.

Tyler leaned in slightly, his free hand bracing against the wall beside your head. The proximity was intoxicating, his warmth seeping into your skin.

“I told you,” he murmured. “What’s mine is mine. I don’t care who knows it.”

Your heart did a little flip at his words, but you weren’t ready to let him off the hook just yet. “But we're still not official, though,” you pointed out, your tone teasing.

Tyler exhaled a soft laugh, shaking his head. “You really don’t let up, do you?”

“Not when I want something,” you shot back, your eyes glinting with challenge.

Tyler pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his hand resting on the side of your face as he caressed your jaw. “You want official? Fine,” he said, his lips curling into a smirk, but his eyes held something more—something tender.

Tyler leaned in, his forehead brushing yours as he lowered his voice to a near whisper. “Call me whatever you want—boyfriend, lover, or just Tyler—but as long as you call me yours, that’s all I care about.” His thumb traced the line of your lips, and the weight of his words settled around you like a promise.

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours again, fierce and tender all at once. He kissed you slowly, his mouth lingering over yours, as if sealing the words he’d just spoken with a kiss that spoke louder than anything else. His hand cradled your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek as he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes.

Tyler’s lips pulled away from yours, but his forehead stayed pressed against yours as he looked into your eyes, that mischievous spark returning to his gaze. He traced his thumb gently over your cheek, as though savoring the moment.

“So,” he said, a teasing smirk curling at the corner of his mouth, “was that official enough for you, or are you gonna make me actually say it?”

You tilted your head, matching his grin, letting your fingers lightly graze the back of his neck as you gave him a playful challenge. “I think I kind of want to hear you say it,” you teased, your voice soft but laced with amusement.

Tyler sighed dramatically, his eyes rolling with mock exasperation, but it was clear he was enjoying this little moment just as much as you were. He leaned back slightly, a chuckle escaping him as he gave you a mock-serious look.

“Darlin’,” he began, his voice dripping with affection and a touch of humor. “Will you please be my girlfriend?”

You burst into laughter, the sound light and carefree, as Tyler grinned at you, clearly pleased with himself. His hands found your waist again, pulling you closer as his lips quirked upward.

“See?” he teased, his hands sliding down to rest on your hips. “I sounded ridiculous, didn't I?”

You smiled up at him, feeling the warmth of the moment settle in. "I don't know...I kind of liked it,” you replied, a hint of sweetness in your voice. “Thank you. I know you probably think it was stupid, but it was nice to hear.”

Tyler leaned in, brushing his lips over your forehead in a soft, affectionate kiss. “Darlin', I'll do whatever makes you happy. If that means saying it, then I'm happy to do it,” he murmured, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you closer again.

Your chest tightened at the honesty in his tone, and for a moment, all the teasing and banter fell away. This was real—so much more real than you’d expected it to be when the two of you started this quiet, undefined thing.

The moment hung between you, charged and intimate, until the sound of laughter from your team broke the spell. You glanced over Tyler’s shoulder to see Dani and Boone watching you from the pool table, their expressions ranging from amused to downright smug.

“Looks like the cat’s out of the bag,” you said, your lips quirking into a small smile.

Tyler turned to follow your gaze, his hand dropping back to your waist. “Good,” he said simply. Then, louder, so the rest of the team could hear, he added, “Yeah, we’re together. Anyone got a problem with that?”

The table erupted into laughter and a chorus of good-natured teasing, but no one seemed surprised. Dani shot you a knowing look, and Boone raised his beer in a mock toast.

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly as you turned back to Tyler. “You're as subtle as a freight train,” you teased.

He grinned, leaning down to brush a kiss against your temple. “You love it,” he said, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

And he was right—you did.

As the night eased into a comfortable rhythm, the initial teasing about you and Tyler began to fade—well, mostly. The team had always been a tight-knit group, and now that the two of you were officially “out,” it seemed like fair game for them to poke fun.

Dani was the first to pounce, sidling up to your table after winning yet another round of pool. She leaned her cue against the wall and smirked. “So, is this why you always rode shotgun with Tyler on every drive?” she asked, waggling her eyebrows.

Boone joined in, raising his beer. “Oh, I get it now. ‘I’ll navigate.’ ‘I’m the best with maps.’ Sure, that’s why,” he said, making exaggerated air quotes.

Your face burned, but you couldn’t help laughing. “I am good with maps,” you said defensively, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

Dexter, usually the quiet one, chimed in with a rare grin. “Guess that explains all the ‘extra stops’ you two needed on those long drives. Thought it was weird how often you needed coffee breaks.”

You groaned, hiding your face behind your hands. “Oh my god, you guys are impossible.”

Tyler, on the other hand, was taking it all in stride. He leaned back in his chair, his arm draped casually around your shoulders, the very picture of smug confidence. “Jealousy’s a bad look on y’all,” he said, his lips twitching into a smirk.

Dani rolled her eyes. “Please. We’re not jealous. Just annoyed it took you this long to admit what we all already knew.”

Boone nodded in agreement. “Seriously, the way you two looked at each other—like a damn Nicholas Sparks movie. We were just waiting for the dramatic kiss in the rain.”

Tyler grinned, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm. “What can I say? I like to keep things interesting.”

You shot him a look, though you couldn’t hide your own smile. “Interesting is one word for it,” you muttered, leaning into his side despite yourself.

As the team’s attention shifted back to their game, you stole a moment to glance up at Tyler. His green eyes met yours, and for a second, the noise of the bar faded away. He gave you a small, almost private smile, the kind that made your heart skip a beat.

When it was finally time to call it a night, the group began gathering their things. Dani slung her bag over her shoulder and paused by the door, looking back at the two of you with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Hey, lovebirds,” she called out, her voice carrying over the music. “Try to keep it down tonight, okay? Some of us would like to actually get some sleep for once.”

Your cheeks went bright red as the rest of the team burst into laughter. “Dani!” you protested, your voice high with embarrassment as you hid your face in Tyler’s shoulder.

Tyler, however, was completely unfazed. In fact, he looked downright pleased with himself. He tightened his arm around you, giving the group a lazy grin. “No promises,” he said, his tone teasing but dripping with that cocky charm you both loved and hated.

The laughter grew louder as you groaned again, playfully smacking his chest. With his arm still wrapped around you, Tyler guided you out of the bar, his hand resting securely on your hip as you stepped into the cool night air. The laughter and teasing from your teammates still echoed in your ears, but you couldn’t stop smiling.

“Think they’ll ever let us live this down?” you asked, glancing up at him.

Tyler chuckled, his eyes sparkling in the dim light. “Not a chance,” he said, pulling you closer. “But as long as I’ve got you, I don’t really care.”

You smiled, resting your head against his shoulder as the two of you walked toward his truck.

The drive back to the motel was quiet, save for the hum of the engine and the occasional murmur of a country station playing on the radio. Tyler had one hand on the wheel, the other resting lazily on your knee, his thumb idly brushing over the fabric of your jeans. Every so often, he’d glance over at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth like he couldn’t help himself.

But your mind was racing, and as much as you wanted to let yourself get lost in the warmth of his touch, you couldn’t shake the doubt creeping in. Was what happened back at the bar real, or was it just Tyler getting caught up in the moment?

When you pulled into the motel parking lot, the tension was still simmering beneath your skin. Tyler parked the truck, turned off the engine, and hopped out, coming around to open your door like he always did. You followed him up the stairs to your room, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back.

The second the door clicked shut behind you, you turned to face him. “So…” you started, your voice careful, testing the waters.

Tyler paused, halfway through pulling his flannel shirt off. He tilted his head at you, a playful smirk teasing his lips. “So?” he repeated, his tone light.

You crossed your arms, shifting on your feet. “What happened back there… at the bar,” you said, avoiding his gaze. “Was that real? Or are you gonna wake up tomorrow and tell the team it was all some big joke? Just you messing around for some laughs?”

The question hung in the air, and for a moment, you regretted saying anything. But then Tyler stepped closer, his flannel discarded on the back of a chair, leaving him in just his plain white t-shirt that clung to his frame in all the right ways.

“Darlin’,” he said softly, his voice steady, “do I look like I’m joking to you?”

You glanced up at him, searching his face for any hint of hesitation. But all you saw was certainty.

“I meant every word I said tonight,” Tyler continued, his hands sliding to your waist, pulling you a step closer. “You’re mine. And I don’t care who knows it.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the intensity in his voice. “But… you said we needed to keep things low-key,” you reminded him, though your voice wavered.

“That was before,” he said simply, his thumb brushing along your side. “Before I realized how much I hated watchin’ someone else try to take what’s mine.”

The possessiveness in his voice sent a thrill down your spine, but it was the tenderness in his eyes that made you melt.

“Tyler…” you whispered, but whatever you were going to say next was lost as he leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle.

It started slow, deliberate, like he was savoring the moment. But as you kissed him back, threading your fingers through his hair, it deepened, his grip on your waist tightening as if he couldn’t get close enough.

Tyler walked you backward until your legs hit the edge of the bed. His hands were everywhere—your waist, your hips, the curve of your jaw—each touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. When he finally pulled back, his breathing was heavy, his forehead resting against yours.

“Does that feel like I’m jokin’?” he murmured, his voice rough and low.

You shook your head, your fingers still tangled in his hair. “No,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his.

He grinned, that familiar cocky charm flashing through for just a second. “Good,” he said, leaning down to kiss you again.

The kiss deepened as Tyler pressed you back onto the bed, his hands trailing down your sides with a possessiveness that sent shivers through you. His touch wasn’t rushed—no, Tyler Owens was deliberate, savoring every moment as though he had all the time in the world to prove his point.

When he pulled back, his lips were swollen, his hair slightly mussed from your fingers. The sight of him like this—raw, unguarded—made your heart race. He sat back on his knees, his hands moving to the hem of your shirt. He tugged it up and then peeled it up over your head, tossing it aside carelessly. His hands roamed your bare skin, his touch warm and grounding, but his eyes were what made you feel like you were the only person in the world.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice roughened by desire. His thumb traced along the edge of your bra, just barely brushing your skin. “All mine.”

His words sent heat coursing through you, and you couldn’t help but arch into his touch. Tyler leaned down, his lips brushing the column of your throat.

“Every inch of you,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin, “belongs to me.”

He kissed his way down, his lips teasing, his hands skillfully finding the clasp of your bra and unhooking it with ease. As he slid the straps from your shoulders, his gaze was reverent, almost awed.

“My girl,” he said, his voice low. His hands moved to your waist again, hooking into the band of your jeans.

As the cool air hit your skin, you bit your lip, trying to stifle the sound that threatened to escape. Tyler noticed immediately, his sharp gaze flicking up to meet yours. His head tilted slightly, and his lips curled into a smirk that sent a wave of both heat and embarrassment through you.

“None of that,” he said, his voice firm but teasing. His thumb brushed your bottom lip, coaxing it free from your teeth. “They all know now, sweetheart. No need to hide.”

Your eyes widened, and you gave him a look that was part incredulous, part exasperated. “Tyler, we can’t …what if we get a noise complaint!”

He chuckled, the sound deep and rich as his hands slid down to rest on your hips, his thumbs tracing slow, maddening circles.

“I don’t care about a noise complaint,” he said, leaning down until his lips were barely an inch from yours. “The team knows. Hell, everyone at the bar knows. But now…” His smirk widened, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper. “Now it’s time every chaser in this motel knows who you belong to.”

“Tyler,” you started, but before you could get another word out, his mouth was on yours again, silencing your protest. His kiss was commanding, his hands sliding over your body in a way that left no room for doubt about his intentions. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes blazing with something primal.

“Now,” he said, his hand moving to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your flushed skin. “Who do you belong to?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but before you could, he shifted, his lips finding that sensitive spot just below your ear. His tongue flicked against your skin, and the combination of his touch and his words sent a bolt of pleasure straight through you.

“Tyler,” you moaned, his name spilling from your lips before you could stop yourself.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you, that infuriatingly smug smirk firmly in place. “That’s right, baby,” he said, his voice like a low growl. “Say it again.”

You glared at him, your face heating with both embarrassment and arousal, but the challenge in his eyes only spurred you on. “You,” you said breathlessly, your voice trembling with need. “I belong to you.”

His grin softened slightly, turning into something warmer, something that made your chest ache. He leaned down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips, and when he pulled back, his hand slid to the small of your back, holding you close.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, and the possessiveness in his voice was tempered by an unmistakable tenderness.

As he kissed you again, deeper this time, your earlier doubts and insecurities melted away. Tyler wasn’t just claiming you—he was showing you, in every touch and every word, that he meant it.

Tyler’s hands moved over your body with a slow reverence, his touch igniting sparks wherever his fingertips lingered. The playful smirk that had been on his face earlier softened into something else—something deeper. His eyes locked on yours, his gaze steady and intense as if he wanted to commit every detail of this moment to memory.

He finished undressing you as he slid your panties agonizingly slow down your legs, letting them fall away as his hands brushed your hips. The air felt charged like you were both standing on the edge of something bigger than either of you could name.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice husky but carrying a weight of sincerity that made your chest tighten.

Your hand found its way to his face, fingers brushing the sharp line of his jaw. “Tyler…” you whispered, but you couldn’t find the words to finish. The look in his eyes—unwavering and full of something unspoken—was undoing you.

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then your temple, and then the tip of your nose. Each kiss felt like a promise, slow and deliberate. His hands framed your face as he kissed you fully again, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that took your breath away.

He shifted, guiding your body beneath his as he shed the last of his clothing, his movements unhurried but purposeful. The heat of his skin against yours was electric, but it was the way he looked at you—like you were the only thing in the world that mattered—that had your heart pounding.

Tyler paused for a moment, his weight braced above you, his forehead resting against yours. His hand brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his thumb grazing your cheek. 

“I need you to know,” he said, his voice low but steady. “This isn’t just…” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “This isn’t just about wanting to fuck you. It’s more than that.”

Your breath hitched at his words, the raw vulnerability in them wrapping around you like a protective cocoon. You reached up, your hand tangling in his hair as you pulled him down into a kiss, your lips conveying everything you couldn’t put into words.

When he finally started to push inside you, the moment felt like time had stopped. His movements were slow, measured, as if he were afraid of rushing it. This wasn’t like the other times you’d been with Tyler before. Every time before had felt like it was just physical. Practically ripping clothes off of each other and hot and heated kisses him getting inside of you as fast as he could.

But this time…this time his touches were just a little softer. His kisses were just a little deeper. And the way he was holding you, like he was cherishing you made you swoon.

As he moved with you, his hands roamed your body. He murmured your name like a prayer, each syllable dripping with affection. And when your hand gripped his shoulder, your nails digging slightly into his skin, he leaned down to kiss you again, his lips lingering as if he couldn’t bear to pull away.

You couldn’t stop the small sounds that escaped your lips, your body responding to his in ways that felt like second nature. But it wasn’t just physical—there was something so much deeper in the way he held you, the way his hand laced with yours, fingers intertwining as though he needed to feel connected to every part of you.

It wasn’t long before the tension building between you both crested, your body trembling in his arms as your climax washed over you. Tyler held you close, whispering soothing words in your ear. When he followed moments later, his face buried in the crook of your neck, the quiet groan that escaped his lips sent another shiver down your spine.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, your breathing the only sound in the room. Tyler finally shifted, rolling to his side but pulling you with him so that you stayed nestled against his chest. His arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly as though letting go was not an option.

He pressed a kiss to your hair, his lips lingering there as he murmured, “I meant it, you know. You’re mine.”

You looked up at him, your hand resting against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “And you’re mine,” you said softly, the words feeling like a vow.

His lips curved into a soft smile, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your back. “Damn right, I am.”

As you lay there, tangled together in the quiet aftermath, the weight of the moment settled over you. This wasn’t just another night, another stolen moment of passion. This was the start of something new—something real.

And as Tyler held you close, his breathing evening out as sleep began to claim him, you couldn’t help but think that for the first time in a long time, everything felt exactly as it should.

[areyougonnabe]

guide to the terra nova scientists

"who are these dead british guys that this blogger i followed for a completely different fandom 2-10 years ago is always screeching about" ok i'll tell you

EDWARD "BILL" WILSON - director of the scientific staff of the terra nova expedition. captain scott's boy bestie. "the best man i've ever known" — pretty much everyone who ever met him. exerts BLINDINGLY POWERFUL charisma field. essentially Polar Jesus

GEORGE "SUNNY JIM" SIMPSON - meteorologist. tall. only cares about weather. really very boring but that's his charm point. from manchester, a self-made man thanks to scholarships, probably the most leftist/socialist guy in the hut but doesn't make it a whole thing.

T. GRIFFITH "GRIFF" TAYLOR - senior geologist. british-born australian. far too skinny bc he hates eating, also proudly straightedge. the most drastic case of unmedicated ADHD exhibited in a historical figure you will ever see. compulsive graphomaniac, satire writer, mapmaker, Your_Racist_Friend-They_Might_Be_Giants.mp3

FRANK "DEB" DEBENHAM - junior geologist. very australian. very beautiful. injury-prone. polite and hard-working, friend to all, tends to recede into the background of official accounts. aka Jessamine aka Jasmine aka Jessie (he definitely hates this). later the beloved founder of the Scott Polar Research Institute!

CHARLES "SILAS" WRIGHT - physicist and glaciologist. canadian, tall, flat ass. much to his chagrin everyone calls him American/The Yank. always swearing colorfully, always hungry, frequent complainer. chronically unsentimental/practical, a bit hot-headed but analytical. brave & strong outdoorsman.

EDWARD "MARIE" NELSON - biologist. from a wealthy family, failed to take his degree from cambridge. immaculate dresser, somewhat lazy. highly reactionary, argumentative, misogynist, the best in the hut at chess, has a fiancee (somehow), essentially an internet troll at heart.

those guys are all in the hut at cape evans together. CHERRY and ATKINSON who you probably know were also technically part of the science team but they lived in the tenements (bunk area) so feel separate to me... and DAY and GRAN lived on the scientists' side as well.

elsewhere we have:

RAYMOND "RAY" PRIESTLEY - geologist of the northern party (the guys stuck in an ice cave). antarctic veteran and local sweetheart. no longer the ingenue he was on the nimrod expedition. now he is balding <3 has hordes of pretty sisters for his friends to marry (silas and griff did this)

DENIS "OOZE" LILLIE - biologist of the ship's party. expert in whales and deep-sea creatures. very eccentric, dreamy, probably transgender. believes he was a roman in a past life. draws caricatures of everyone and some are really mean.

THIS CONCLUDES my impromptu lecture. please continue to enjoy my posts with this helpful background knowledge. and do feel free to send me asks about these guys if you want to know more......

[wisecura]

Pretty

p4

Suguru x fem-reader

AN: now how long did it take me to send this one out? thank you for continuing, these are still under edit so please be aware.

Warning: Yandere behavior oncoming please continue with caution

Butterflies

c.1 ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ c.3

Suguru had managed to keep you all to himself on that porch for hours.

With no Satoru around to interrupt, he had free rein to tease, talk, and simply enjoy your presence.

And enjoy it he did—far more than he expected.

He felt a strange, insatiable need to hold your attention, to keep your eyes on him and only him, even as your yawns became more frequent and your eyelids grew heavy.

What surprised him most was that you didn’t seem to mind. If anything, you gave him that attention willingly, your focus never wavering.

The two of you stayed there until the sun began to peek over the horizon, its soft light creeping across the garden. Sitting inches apart, both of your legs swung off the edge of the porch, your hands so close they nearly brushed.

Suguru found himself talking about things he rarely shared—bits and pieces of himself he usually kept hidden. But with you, it felt easy. Natural. He wasn’t sure if it was because you were such a good listener or because your relaxed expression made him feel like he could tell you anything.

You talked, too, more than he’d ever heard you speak in one sitting. About little things, big things—anything and everything. He hung onto every word, marveling at the way you opened up to him.

And as the conversation flowed, Suguru felt an overwhelming urge to keep you there, to keep the moment alive. He wasn’t ready for it to end, wasn’t ready to let you go, even as the first rays of sunlight began to wash over the world.

The situation felt unnervingly intimate—just a little too close for a guy and his best friend’s little sister. But it would’ve been stranger to say Suguru wasn’t one of your close friends by now. Although, you weren’t entirely sure how you felt about calling him that. Friendships weren’t something you’d had much experience with, and with Suguru, things always felt… different.

If you were honest, though, if you had to pick anyone to settle down with someday, Suguru would be at the top of your list. He was passionate about his role as a sorcerer, even if you’d noticed hints of resentment toward some parts of it. Despite that, his care for his fellow sorcerers was undeniable, and his quiet strength and thoughtfulness drew you in more than you’d ever admit.

But the idea of actually dating him? That was impossible. He was Satoru’s best friend, first and foremost. Crossing that line wasn’t just risky—it felt like breaking some unspoken rule. And yet, as the sun rose higher, you couldn’t quite shake the thought.

If you did want to date Suguru, what could you even do? He was like your first crush, sure, but what did you really know about relationships anyway? Books, movies, and the occasional online post had given you a general idea of how it was supposed to work, but theory was far different from reality.

Satoru, of course, had always made it clear he wouldn’t let you date anyone without his approval. And you had the sneaking suspicion he wouldn’t want you dating at all—approval or not.

But even if Satoru miraculously gave his blessing, there was still Suguru.

How did he feel? He seemed to treat you much like Satoru did—affectionately but firmly, with no hint of flirtation in your conversations. Did he see you as an extension of your brother? Another little sister to look after?

The thought made your stomach twist uncomfortably. Maybe you were reading too much into things, hoping for something that wasn’t there.

And it wasn’t like you could ask Suguru how he felt—not without bracing for the consequences. What if he thought it was just a naive schoolgirl crush and brushed you off with that teasing smirk of his?

What if he outright rejected you, called you some spoiled, snot-nosed kid for even thinking about it, and made you feel foolish for harboring those feelings at all?

Or worse, what if he got uncomfortable, distanced himself, and left not just you but Satoru too?

Suguru Geto was unpredictable, and that alone made the prospect of confessing anything feel like walking a tightrope. Too many outcomes, too many risks, and not nearly enough certainty to act on how you felt.

"Looks like it’s time for bed," Suguru said, letting out a loud sigh that broke the quiet. You blinked, finally noticing the soft hues of the rising sun. Exhaustion hit you all at once, and you realized you probably looked as tired as you felt.

“I didn’t mean to keep you so long,” you said, your voice thick with drowsiness, tinged with apology. “But I really appreciated the company.”

He didn’t reply immediately, but the smile on his face said more than words could. It was a smile reserved just for you or Satoru—so warm, so affectionate, it left you unsure of what to make of it.

As you stood, his eyes followed your movements, trailing over your form without hesitation. When you glanced down, you found him already watching you, his dark gaze unreadable. Your heart pounded in your ears, the heat rising to your face impossible to ignore.

Backing away clumsily, you nearly tripped over your own feet, breaking the moment. Suguru shifted, ready to catch you if needed, but you steadied yourself before he could move. Embarrassed, you kept your eyes fixed on the ground, mumbling a quick, flustered excuse as you made your way to the door.

Pausing just before stepping inside, you turned slightly, your voice soft, barely above a whisper.

“Good night, Suguru.”

You didn’t wait for a response, disappearing into the house before he could recover from the shock.

Suguru sat frozen, utterly speechless, the sound of your voice—his name spoken with such quiet affection—lingering in the air like a ghost.

Behind your bedroom door, you leaned against it, hands clutching your chest, your heart hammering as if it might burst. The exchange had been wordless yet heavy with emotion, and you hoped you’d conveyed even a fraction of what he’d shown you with that smile.

You felt breathless. Vulnerable in a way you’d never been before.

Sure, it might not have meant much to him, but to you, it was everything. Suguru was the first person besides Satoru you’d ever let yourself get this close to.

You couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your lips.

Damn it.

You really were like a little schoolgirl confessing to her crush—running off like that, all flustered, just from saying his first name. It was so embarrassing.

The initial giddiness faded as you lay on your bed, thinking about how silly it was to get so worked up over something Suguru probably thought was meaningless. You stared blankly at the wall you shared with him. His room—the previous guest room—was right next to yours. You hadn’t given this much thought before, but now you were acutely aware of how close he was.

Satoru’s bedroom was farther down the hall, naturally having claimed the master suite, but that wasn’t comforting. It didn’t change the fact that Suguru was right there.

You groaned, turning onto your side. Whatever. Summer would be over soon, and once school started back up, you wouldn’t have time to dwell on this.

The sound of floorboards creaking outside your door pulled you from your thoughts, followed by a soft thunk, signaling that Suguru had returned to his room. You exhaled deeply and let your head sink into the pillow. Within seconds, you were out, completely unaware of the chaos you’d left behind.

Suguru sat on the edge of his bed, staring blankly at the wall that separated him from you. His mind reeled, replaying that moment over and over again.

The way your lips had shaped his name—Suguru, not Geto—was enough to knock the air from his lungs. You’d said it so softly, so fondly, with a warmth he thought was reserved only for Satoru.

He felt weightless, like he’d drifted into some dreamlike state where everything felt too good to be real. Was it exhaustion playing tricks on him? Or had you really said his name like that?

Whatever it was, he didn’t want it to end. He could listen to you say his name for hours, days, maybe even forever.

For the first time in a long while, Suguru felt light, as if the weight of the world had lifted for just a moment. Even with Satoru, he’d never felt this... enraptured.

And he knew then—he was gone.

p.3

[jeeseth]

FREE LOVE — yoon jiyoon x f!reader

you never knew that things could escalated this quickly. how did you went from buying iced americano at a random bakery (cafe) and somewhat managed to fell in love with the pretty grumpy barista .

tags ☕️ — fluff, non-idol au, coffee shop au, barista/baker!jiyoon, highschooler!reader, lowercase intended, mens dni, grammatical errors .

it's a hot summer evening as you make your way to the bakery you usually go to. the sun is sinking low, you can see it through the clouds. it's nearly time for you to buy your daily cup of iced americano.

you pushed open the door and the familiar scent of fresh baked goods and coffee greets you as you step into your favourite and comfort place. the interior is all warm wood, bright accents and high ceilings. it's an open space, just a long counter for placing orders and a little sitting area by one of the windows. there are other costumers here, but you obviously pay them no mind. your eyes are fixed on the tall person behind the cash register.

she is pretty, no doubt about that, with dark hair that falls just over her eyes, making it hard to tell what she's thinking. that combined with her height and slightly bigger frame (than yours) has your heart pounding away in your chest whenever you get close to her. not that it matters, because you’re not going to talk to her ever. there's just no way you possibly could. so you’re just gonna continue admiring that pretty girl from afar.

you let out a soft sighs as you approached the counter, ready to order your usual which is an iced americano. with extra ice because you’re crazy.

"the usual?" her low voice interrupts your thoughts, sending a shiver down your spine. you can feel your face going red in embarrassment and nod silently. you can already imagine how this little interaction is going to replay in your mind later tonight as you lay in bed.

she hums and turns around and starts preparing your order with practiced ease. you take that opportunity to look around the bakery like you always did. smelling the warm fresh breads that fills the bakery. you let out a soft hum from seeing how clean and tidy the bakery actually is. that’s kinda amazing knowing that this pretty girl works here alone.

you quickly looks back at the counter as the pretty barista hands your drink, hands almost touching. you swear you can feel your skin tingling at the near contact and it lowkey feels like your heart is about to burst out of your chest. you takes the cup and mumble a quiet ‘thank you’ before hastily leaving the bakery and blaming the heat for how red your face feels.

that night, as you lay in bed, you can't help but sigh as your head filled with the cute barista again. why does fate have to be so cruel? it's not fair that someone so perfect is so unreachable. you close your eyes, trying to relax and get some sleep, but the image of her is burned into your mind.

the next morning as you make your way to school, you can't help but to let out a deep sigh. you know it's stupid and you don't want to seem like a stereotype, but the first thing on your mind is coffee and that means going to the bakery again. you really should try and resist at least some of your urges, but just the thought of not seeing her makes your heart ache.

you push the door open with more force then necessary, bracing yourself for what is about to come. the first thing your eyes landed on is her, already behind the counter, looking as pretty as ever. as if she sensed your arrival her eyes turn to see you and her lips twitch up into a small smile.

your breath immediately catches in your throat as you let out an awkwardly smile at her, your heart already speeding up. you walk over to the counter, trying to act natural. you want to say something to her, anything. but all you manage to stutter out is your goddamn order. she just nods, no surprise showing on her face at your nervous behaviour and turns around to prepare your drink.

you mentally curses yourself when you literally stuttered in front of her. and now she probably thinks you’re stupid or something. as you wait for her to finish you take the opportunity to study her form. her shoulders are wide, covered by the fabric of her shirt. it fits her perfectly, not too tight but still emphasizing her broad shoulders. god she looks so good, like she literally walked right out of a dream.

after a while, she turns around and place your drink on the counter. but what makes you confused is that there’s a piece of freshly baked bread with it. did you even order any bread? you look up at her and titled your head.

"hey um sorry but, i didn’t order any bread." you said, trying to sound as calm as possible. she let out a small chuckle before smiling at you. damn.

"take it. i'll give it to you for free." she smiles and hands you the drink and the bread. your cheeks immediately heats up when you feels her fingers brushing against your hand. was that on purpose?

you quickly pays and gets ready to leave but she stops you by handing you your balance. "don’t forget your money, sweet girl." she chuckles softly. you let out a small smile before quickly leaving the bakery. what the hell just happened. you glance at your hand and noticed a little piece of paper with your balance.

your eyes widen and your heartbeat starts beating faster when you see what’s written on the paper. in the cursive handwriting it wrote, ‘come again tomorrow. -jiyoon’. you let out a shaky breath while putting that piece of paper inside your pocket. jiyoon. that pretty barista and baker name is jiyoon.

you're not sure how and why but, your legs and heart keeps bringing you back to this stupid bakery just to see jiyoon. ugh. you're down bad for that pretty barista. at this point, you don't even care at how much you had already spend buying an iced americano everyday at her bakery. as long as you get to see her... it's worth every penny.

"are you single?" i'm sorry what. your head snaps up when you hear that annoyingly pretty voice. you look up from whatever you were reading and saw jiyoon sitting in front of you with a literal broom in her hand. seems like she was in the middle of cleaning this bakery. jiyoon rests her chin on her palm as she waits for your answer. why is she so damn straightforward.

you fiddles with the cup of iced americano in your hands before mumbling shyly while avoiding jiyoon's intense gaze. "umm, yes." you muttered, a blush creeping up your cheeks.

seeing you blush at such simple yet amusing question makes jiyoon chuckles quietly, she continue to admire you who is sitting in front of her. jiyoon took noticed of the book you're reading and smiles softly when she realized you're still schooling. it was silence for a while before jiyoon decided to break it.

"still in high school?" jiyoon asks while looking at you curiously. you looks up from your books and nods your heads. jiyoon hums in response when you nodded. you're in your third year already and that's why you need your daily iced americano to stay alive with all these stuff. jiyoon on the other hand has just graduated high school a year ago.

"i got exams coming up, that's why i need your iced americano everyday." you giggles softly when you see jiyoon surprised expression. she wasn't expecting that but by hearing your words, it warms something inside jiyoon's heart. she's glad that this bakery that she decided to open can help students like you.

jiyoon let out a small chuckle as she continue to admire you studying in her bakery. jiyoon has completely forgotten to clean her bakery floor. so what? at least she can see you up close now.

days turns into weeks and weeks turns into months. after all those blood, sweat and tears you finally finished your exam. no more stressing. and that also means you can finally hang out with jiyoon. oh wait. forgot to mention that you and jiyoon has becomes close during those times. don't ask how. it's clearly because of jiyoon stupid dad jokes and pick up lines. but it's okay because it's jiyoon.

you're currently sitting in jiyoon's bakery, waiting for her to close it and calls it a day. while scrolling through your phone, you glance at the table where jiyoon's phone is at. you know you shouldn't but you can't help to peek a little when you saw a notification pops up on jiyoon's screen. seeing jiyoon's lockscreen has completely makes you forgot to see the notifications. you heartbeat quickens when you saw a candid picture of you studying on jiyoon's lockscreen. some people might creep out when they saw something like this but you were so happy when you saw it. you find this small gesture to be very meaningful and touching. it definitely warms your heart!

after a while, jiyoon came to sit in front of you with a piece of bread in her hands. she smiles before handing it to you. you took it and let out a quiet thanks which makes jiyoon chuckles.

jiyoon continue to admire you and watch carefully as you took a sip of your americano. you and jiyoon talks for a while before jiyoon took notice of you not even touching the bread she gave earlier. jiyoon raised an eyebrows and asks you softly.

"why aren't you eating it?" jiyoon mumbles, glancing at the bread on the table. don't you like it? but jiyoon has been giving you the same kind of breads for a month now. you sighs softly before giggling afterwards. jiyoon frowns deepens when you giggles.

"jiyoon, i’m gluten intolerant."

"what."

[karaeilishh]

Your Sabrina fic lives rent free in my head foreverrrrr. Can we have more of her soon?

ughhh literally adore her. i’m sure she would be so desperate for you on her face 💞

SIT ON IT s.carpenter

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 …sit on my fucking face

"please, please, please..." sabrina whines pathetically, kneeling in front of you. her hands rest on your spread thighs, scratching your soft skin, reddened by her nails. her gaze darting from time to time to your naked pussy, barely peeking out from under your skirt. she looked like she hadn't eaten in years, starving.

you look down at her boredly, enjoying her desperation. you see how she can barely stand still, her knees hurting from how long she's been in this position between your legs. begging you to let her eat your pussy. but she's done something wrong and she deserves it.

because of the huge amount of work, sabrina hasn't left her home studio for days, working on new songs and beats. she forgot about you. the only times you saw her were when you brought her plates of food during mealtimes a few times a day, only to receive a kiss on the cheek and a fucking 'thank you'. and now she was working off her punishment for all the days you had to touch yourself in an empty bed.

"i don't get what you want at all" you leaned towards her, looking into her sky blue eyes that were almost brimming with tears. maybe another time you would feel sorry for her, but not now. she deserved this punishment. "use your mouth for something more useful than whining, baby"

and you could almost hear the fucking growl in her voice as her seemingly soft and weak hands wrapped tightly around your hips. oh, she was stronger than she looked. "sit on it..." she takes a few deep breaths, continuing, "sit on my fucking face"

"do you think you deserve this?" your breath is hot on her lips, making her grit her teeth. she knows you have every right to tease her, but she still wants you so badly. "you've been such a bitch, sabrina, ignoring me for almost a week... and now you're asking me to sit on your pretty face? slut"

"princess, please..." her knees weaken even more, barely holding her upright. all you hear for the next few minutes is her pathetic begging and whining. she really was such a slut for your pussy.

and you let her prove it, slowly lowering yourself onto her face. your hands grip the headboard for support, because you already know how weak you'll be after her. that was the problem, no matter how mad you were at her, she always fucked you too good. she always made you such a mess. "fuck"

your eyes close as you feel her tongue running along your slit, collecting your wetness. sabrina moans sweetly, pulling you closer to her face. "fuck, you're so wet..." she moans into your pussy, sending vibrations through your body. you can't do anything but grab her hair and shut her up, pushing her further into your pussy.

her tongue swirled around your clit, making your eyes roll into the back of your head. her tongue was so fucking talented. and not just for the songs. all her songs were for you. she was all just for you and your pleasure... "sabrina!" you can't help but moan loudly as she pushes her tongue into your hole.

your skirt covers the lower part of her face because you didn't even try to take it off, but you see her eyes. full of lust and pleasure. she's never moaned so contentedly except between your legs. she tells herself that her place is between your legs. she's eating you, devouring you.

"fuck, fuck, i'm so close..." your hand tugs harder on her blonde hair, turning it into a real mess. no one cares when you're both drowning in your pleasure, merging into one.

"b-brina..."

you see stars. they explode in your eyes when she makes you cum all over her cute face. all over her fucking tongue. you can hear her swallowing every drop. her tongue still slowly working on your pussy, helping you overcome the long-awaited orgasm she gave you.

and she will make you cum over and over again until the only thing you remember is her name.

tags: @chrissv4mp, @swamppmonsteer

[petitsdieu]

𝒔𝒆𝒙𝒖𝒂𝒍 𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒔. — [ DANCE ] : our muses dance together in close quarters.

A dress shaded like roseate spoonbill, cut from Eri Silk drapes her body like liquid. She becomes one within her garments. It shows. It showers her in praise and attracts all sorts of walks of life. Adam appears to be no different when he asks her to detach from her ladies-in-waiting and join her on the dance floor.

The promise of midnight peaks against the window of the ballroom. You'd think the later hours would have worn her considerably by now but she hasn't felt the time yet.

She does feel his hand low on her back. Palm in palm, tucked close, as they take the lead to the melody as a guide. It hitches her, even just for a moment. He gives gossip validity; he is as they say, haughty and prick-like. This is not unique for men in like-positions.

Verdant gaze flicks up finally to meet his sapphire pair. "Are you enjoying yourself, your highness?"

𝒇𝒕. @finalslay

[championsofthegate]

@skyheld asked: let's get you up on your feet. /ameridan to gale

One day, Gale was going to stop getting knocked out by whatever they happened to be fighting. Today was not that day, however.

He let out a small groan, blinking up at Ameridan. How had he... ah, redcap, right. Gale pushed himself into a sitting position, taking stock of his injuries.

"Nasty creatures, recaps," he murmured to know one in particular, before focusing on Ameridan again. "Is everyone else alright?"

[scarletcursed]

“you expect bald men to let others sleep?” Holly ( @twincuts )

"i can't say i've had much experience where that's concerned, holly. i don't enjoy sleeping in the same company as men, and even before my father left pearlanne... well, i can't remember if he was bald or not. it's been far too long to know. "

she directs a curious look to her cousin. "i wouldn't be surprised if sleeping was a hassle, though. what's your experience with bald, noisy men?"

[brutalmasks]

hello, everyone! i hope you all experience the very positive vibes that this picture exudes today and are also as happy as this little guy:

i just wanted to give y'all a little update while i'm at it as i finally have more time this weekend to spend on here and thus, i shall be answering some asks, including ones that are probably long overdue NGL (,,: ( and i am legitimately SO sorry about that. exam season has been keeping me BUSY busy but i only have two exams left, which is good ), and more recent ones! but yeah, i also wanted to highlight how thankful i am of y'all for sticking with me and this acc, as well as always showing me support for my content!! so thank you all so MUCH for being the best people around, in my humble opinion ❤️🫂 y'all are amazing and don't let anyone tell you otherwise,, i love you all dearly, and i shall be signing off by wishing everyone here to have the BEST day ever!

[kit-just-kit]

My heart has been a void without you, tesoro. I had to leave without saying goodbye, and it has weighed heavily upon me since. I'd like to meet with you, if you'll allow it. Unfortunately, my ability to walk in the sun has vanished and therefore a night time rendezvous would be appropriate. Please, accept.

All my love,

E.

Anon asks

The note and it's content had hit her emotions like a tonne of bricks. She'd thought she was over it, over him. Kit had made herself believe he was dead, that was the safer and saner option, all things considered, even though she knew that in every practical sense of the word, Edward was already dead.

So to hear from him now, two years of nothing and a sudden departure on the back of promises to never leave her, shook every fibre of her being. She was angry. No, scratch that, she was livid. How bloody dare he call her that name again? People don't leave their treasures, they keep them for fucks sake. For a second, she was tempted the rip up the note, tear it to shreds and throw the remnants into the wind. He may not be able to 'walk in the sun', but she knew that right now, he would be watching her somehow - either by camera or having one of his little flunkies do the dirty work. Performing such an act would let him now once and for all that it was too late, that he had finally burned his last bridge with her - she was no longer his.

And yet..........with her hands screwing up piece of papers and knuckles white, she stopped, looking up and off into the distance. She couldn't see anyone around. Still, they were there. So, she turned and went back inside, closing the door behnd her and sitting at her desk to write her response.

"Tonight. 10pm. Here. Come alone. No gifts. No flowers. No fancy words. Just you. K.".

Kit placed it in a unmarked envelope and went back to the door, leaving in on the front mat and knowing that within five minutes, it would be gone. She even turned off the security cameras and alarm to facilitate this, despite the fact that Edward's note had been deposited without setting either off.

As predicted, when she went back to check half an hour later, the envelope was gone, which meant that she would have a visitor that night.

And already, her stomach was filling with butterflies.

Or were they moths?

@exvasto

[howthesleeplesswander]

❝ first of all, lie down, you’re going to hurt yourself. ❞ and here Tighnari gently pushes Kaveh back down on the bed in his hut ❝ now, slow down, start from the beginning. ❞ what, pray tell, may have been the reason the forest watcher found his architect friend passed out at the entrance to Gandharva Ville?

@drolliic || Starter Prompts || Accepting!

His vision spun just from attempting to sit upright. Without much resistance, Kaveh allowed his friend to guide him back down, tossing an arm over his eyes to block out the light.

"All I wanted was to stop by and invite you to Lambad's tomorrow night," he bemoaned, all petulance and dramatics. Clearly he must not feel too terribly. "And what do I get for being such a good friend? Attacked, that's what!" Too bad getting so worked up only made him feel worse. Kaveh huffed out a frustrated sigh. "I'm honestly not sure what happened. I was on my way here when a few fungi came rushing at me, but they weren't...normal looking. They had spots all over them—blotchy and purple, like bruises."

His recollection was a bit fuzzy, but he remembered...a shimmering mist in the air. A bitter taste in his mouth and a rotten smell invading his nose. "I think they started emitting some kind of gas when they attacked me. As soon as I breathed it in, I lost all my strength and felt light-headed. It was lucky I had Mehrak with me, or I might not have made it here before I passed out."

Said toolbox trilled from where it hovered at the foot of the bed. Kaveh pinched the bridge of his nose as he cracked an eye open just enough to side-eye Tighnari. "Have you encountered anything like that before? Could those fungi be diseased, or something?"

[gatorlovebot]

Love, everytime you mention me or that you want more of my thoughts, I happy stim. You can bug me for my thoughts at any time, and I’ll only take it as a compliment, don’t worry. But since you asked about collaring Simon here are some of my thoughts, as a treat for you 😘 we will call this part one, where you discuss collaring without doing it yet

I think that it’s a multiple day discussion first. You first have to explain to Simon the meaning of collaring, then the different types of collars you could give him, how that may affect the dynamic, and each time you give him time to think over what it is he wants. When he comes to you and says that he likes the idea of collaring, you move on to logistics.

You bring up that while you would love to properly collar him with a more classic collar, you are worried having something around his throat that sits so closely to it will make him feel choked and claustrophobic, instead of grounded and comfortable in your dynamic, not to mention that he’d never be able to have a day collar to wear constantly since he is in the military. You’d thought of a ring, as it could be slipped onto his dogtags when not in scene, but that would make Simon too nervous in case an enemy spots it and also if you ever give him a ring, you want it to be when he takes your last name (because like hell are you allowing him to keep that cunt’s last name when you have one so much better for him). So you bring up bracelets. One for scenes that has an o-ring on it that you can attach a leash to, that wouldn’t make him feel choked or trigger any of the trauma he has with being restrained or what not with his neck, while still being able to take your puppy on a walk. And, if he wants a day collar/permanent one, you can get one of those permanent chain ones that really just look like a chain that soldered onto people. It would be small/simple enough that no one besides the two of you would think anything of it, and since he always wears full sleeves and gloves when in the field, he could hide it while still wearing it. You could even get a matching one on your own wrist or on your ankle depending on what he feels more comfortable with. You stress that Simon can decide to do both these things, only one of them, or none of them, and that it will never change how much you love him and will not change the dynamic unless he wants it to. You stress that this was just the best solution you thought of, but that the two of you can continue to workshop it, as well as experiment with different methods until you find one that works best for Simon. That there is no shame in saying that you like the idea of a collar but the reality is too overstimulating and overwhelming to actually do. There are plenty of things in kink, and just in life, that are better as fantasies than reality. If Simon finds that collars fall into that domain, that’s completely fine, you both will just have to discuss if he wants you to bring it up as dirty talk during scenes or if he just wants to keep it as a private fantasy for himself.

Simon is near tears during this discussion, but they’re happy tears. You see him so completely: you don’t try to gloss over his trauma and say “it’ll be fine, it’s not a big deal anyways so he should be fine”, you take the time to account for the different ways it may come into play and try to accommodate it the best you can while still communicating to him that your insights are limited so he will take the lead in deciding his own comfort. You dont try to lead him to ideas you think are best, or try to manipulate him into going along with them, instead the whole time you are involving him in the process and waiting for his guidance. Even with all the trauma, with all the shame and pain he deals with, you see them and don’t love him despite them but regardless. This conversation is one of the many that drives home to him just how much you love him, and it fills him with so much gratitude and love for you that it feels like it is overflowing from his soul, like no words or actions or amount of time will ever be enough to show you just how much love he has for you. It overwhelming in the best of ways, and he is more certain than ever that he wants to wear the proof of his devotion to you on his body and soul for the rest of the world to see. His inner monologue as he gazes at you for the rest of the night is just “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you” and it’s the truth.

He loves you.

-🐶

anon, you have a way of making me so emotional with your concepts, oh my god <3

most conversations like this have to be multiple days. it just takes him a little more time to process things. like it takes him a full day to even be able to look you in the eyes after you bring up that you would like to collar him. he spends the day spiraling between blushing to himself at the prospect and then feeling ashamed about wanting to be collared like an actual fucking dog.

but he finally allows himself to come to you and say yes, this is what i want because that's why this whole dynamic is about him, him fully accepting himself and his desires.

i think he really wants to wear a collar around his neck because he just wants to be normal and doesn't want you to have to make accommodations for him. but then you're pulling out your laptop and showing him all these different bracelets you can get him, different materials and colors and he's just sat stunned at the amount of time and effort you've put into this. for him.

you go out to one of those places that does the forever jewelry. getting dainty little chains soldered onto your wrists and then when you go home you slip the leather bracelet around his wrist as he falls to his knees in front of you, nosing underneath your shirt and letting his head rest against your warm skin as he sinks further and further into puppy space.

i like to view the puppy dynamic as simon's way of saying, i trust you. he allows you to see every part of himself because you've proven time and time again that you can handle every part of him. that you want every part of him. when he allows you to slip a leash into the o-ring of his bracelet and he spends the day following you around the house it's his way of saying i trust you with all of me, my wants, my needs, my body, my soul.

[serendipitous-mage]

......... who's gonna tell him ... .. ill do it @markiplier

[tres-fidelis]

"N-No fighting Miss!" Nanako looks rather determined to stop whatever Rin is yelling about.

It happened only once in a while. The usual bout of customers needing their vehicles or other mechanical problems repaired never gave Rin any sort of problems. But sometimes, the cranky Karen reared their ugly head just to test the shop's hospitality services, as well as Rin's patience. An expensive payment, shabby adjustments or additions made under the shop's surveillance, it grew to be quite a common trend when facing displeased clients. Usually, her aunt took to mending the problem while Rin finished the dirty work. However, she found herself solo running both the house and work space today. Without any proper adult supervision in close proximity, it spelled a pending disaster should the older teen fully embrace her boiling frustration.

But a little angel came to her rescue! Brunette pigtails bounced up and down, matching brown eyes appearing innocent and worried hearing the nearby voices raise in pitch. Rin forgot about the temporary babysitting service she promised Dojima-san today, which meant even more responsibilities piled on her shoulders. Between working with clients, appeasing her current patron, and the pleading shouts from Inaba's sweetest little peach, Rin couldn't make any mistakes. It was too much all at once.

She shouldn't get angry either, especially not in front of Nanako...of all people.

"...my apologies, sir." Her fists relaxed, tension releasing from her fingers as she tucked them inside her jean pockets. "I'll take a'notha look at th' internals tah make sure everythin's fixed. Is prolly summthin' ta do wit' th' AC unit in yer car..." It didn't hurt to look over her work again, in case she overlooked one little part or section. But she never missed anything. So what happened this time around?

For the time being, Rin saw the customer off into the waiting room then turned to catch Nanako's attention. "...thought I told ya not ta be comin' in here, squirt. It's dangerous fer someone as small as ya ta be near these kinds of tools."

She could practically hear Dojima's voice tearing her ear off if he found out about this...

[banqanas]

Everyone on twitter are doing this so i want to do it too!!!! Summary of my oshi activities for 2023!!!!!

It was a very FANTASTIC year!!!!!

Template source from Sanrio twitter

[advnterccs]

@proximasmith sent; "Hi Morty! I know I'm just, like, a random Summer, but, if there's anything you need to talk about, you can always talk to one of us." The kind, pink-haired Summer winces, second-guessing her statement. "Well, m-maybe. Some of us are kinda unfriendly. But I'm not! So if there's, like, anything you need to get off your chest, and it would help, just give me a ring and I'll... y'know... listen!" [For Morty!]

There weren't many chances that Morty got to meet other Summers. Usually he encountered far more Ricks or Mortys. So this was very new to him. Someone who was his sister but not quite. It really messed up his mind to think about it. So he tried not to think too hard about it.

"Uh, thanks?" He wasn't really sure what to say, but he didn't want to seem rude. She sounded nice enough. "I-I'll - uh - keep that in mind. I-It's nice to meet you."