#dash › glen powell .

[holypowell]

waking up to more pics of glen on set.. yeah that’s a fucking wrap

[aintmyjewelry]

my favorite thing about tumblr is that you'll come across a post that's just a photoshoot of some attractive celebrity but the tags on it will be like "god i fucking hate him" in a loving way

[bethannangel]

The way Glen and Daisy leave the Twisters tube reminds me of all the times two people appear from a back room at a party.

[kelseab]

i'm a religious drew barrymore show viewer, so when i say my heart melted seeing brisket, i do mean that quite literally. i've got one of those roommates myself; his name is dibs, and he still is not yet weaned off those early ass morning wake-ups. the trade off is he's a big ol' couch potato who is almost allergic to exercise aside from floating in the pool, so i guess i'll take what i can get. how is fatherhood treating you? aside from the fucked sleep schedule.

Do any of you go through phases in life where you enjoy waking up early and getting out just to get the body moving and then other days when you just want to sleep and do absolutely nothing? I'm currently going through the phase of wanting to sleep in but life just doesn't allow it. There's also this horrible roommate I have that has a wake up call of 5am and he just demands I wake up with him - how rude, right? Nah just kidding, he's my pup and I guess he has the right to wake me up so early. @exposedfm

[hederasgarden]

On the Horizon (1/?)

Summary: You've been pining over your coworker for a while now. He might not have realized but someone has.  Pairing:Tyler Owens x F!Reader (with minor Scott x F!Reader) Word Count: 2.5K  Rating: Mature, 18+ only. Angst, flirting, and asshole!Scott. Future chapters will be smutty. Not all themes are tagged. A/N: Thanks to @writercole for the summary and @ryebecca @mermaidxatxhear @clairewritesandrambles and @a-reader-and-a-writer for their beta help. Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day.

Masterlist ♡ Glen Powell Character Masterlist

It’s sweltering in the midday sun and you wipe the sweat from your brow as you surreptitiously watch Scott work beside you. He doesn't seem bothered by the heat, typing away on his computer despite the stagnant air. It makes you yearn for the cool, controlled environment of the labs you used to work in before Javi recruited you. Although he'd likely tell you this weather was perfect for a storm, you're miserable. Meteorology isn’t even your specialty; you’re here for your engineering skills to manage the specialized equipment the team relies on for their data collection.

Perched on the tailgate of the Storm Par truck, you have a clear view of the other storm chasers clustering around Tyler Owens' red truck. The man in question emerges with a brilliant smile, and beside you, Scott scoffs, annoyed. He hates Tyler, and you're pretty sure the feeling is mutual. 

"Ass," Scott mutters, returning his attention to his computer.

When you look up again, you catch Tyler watching the two of you. You know he’s more than likely looking for a chance to provoke Scott, but to your surprise, he offers you a wink and pulls down the brim of his hat in acknowledgment. Before you can react, he's turned to speak to one of the young women on his team, giving her his full attention. A hand rests casually on her shoulder.

You wish Scott would acknowledge you like that. You thought things would be different after the night you shared weeks ago, but he quickly dashed those hopes the next morning, ignoring you completely. He only seemed to look at you when he needed your tech skills or when you made a mistake. Your cheeks still burn from his last reprimand in front of the team, the sting of his criticism lingering.

Clearing your throat, Scott’s eyes briefly land on you before returning to the computer screen. 

"What?" he demands.

"I was going to get something to eat. Do you want anything?”

"Yeah, you know what I like," he says dismissively. 

When it's clear that's all you're getting from him, you push off the truck onto the dusty road with a soft exhale and head into the gas station. The air conditioning inside practically makes you groan with relief, and you take a moment to appreciate the cool air. 

"You're not melting on us, are you, city girl?" You jump at the unexpected voice, surprised to see it belongs to Tyler. "MIT got you all wound up, huh?” He questions, amused. 

"What?"

"Your boss," he clarifies. 

"Oh, he's um...he's not my boss. Javi is."

"No?" he asks, brows raised. "Well, he certainly barks at you like he is."

Heat rushes to your face as you realize Tyler must have overheard Scott reprimand you yesterday after you miscalibrated one of the sensors.

"If you worked with my team, I'd be a lot nicer," he says.

You stare at him, unsure how to react to his comment and the suggestive tone. Before today, you’d barely spoken to him, although you get the impression that his flirtatious nature is just a normal part of his outgoing personality. Thankfully, you’re spared from having to figure out how to respond when the doorbell jingles and someone calls your name.

It’s Scott. 

"Owens," he bites out. 

Your lips part in a surprised inhale as he places a hand on your shoulder and stands so close that you can feel the fabric of his shirt brushing against your arm. Tyler's gaze drops briefly to your mouth before returning to your face with a knowing smile. 

 "Well, I enjoyed our chat," he tells you, not bothering to acknowledge Scott. "We should do this again, sweetheart."

Once he’s gone, Scott moves to stand in front of you "What did he want?" he demands.

"Oh, nothing. Just...saying hi."

Scott tenses, and he steps into your space, cupping your elbow. "You shouldn't talk to him," he advises.

When he tilts his head to stare down at you, something flickers in his blue eyes that looks an awful lot like jealousy. You glance over your shoulder at Tyler, only to have Scott say your name again, more forcefully. Turning back, you find his intense dark blue eyes locked onto yours. For the first time since that night in the hotel room, you realize you have Scott’s full attention and that sends a thrill of excitement through you.

You bite your lip, the beginning of an idea coming together.

An opportunity arises to put your plan into motion later that night. Nearly everyone has descended on the only motel in town, but no one seems interested in staying in their rooms. Music pumps from Tyler’s red truck and another group grill burgers nearby. Alcohol is flowing freely as different teams mingle.

You spot Scott busy inside the Storm Par command van, completely absorbed in his work. From experience, you know any attempt to pull him away would be pointless, but spending time with Tyler just might. You linger at the edge of the parking lot, trying to muster the courage to approach the Tornado Wrangler crew. They’re sharing beers and laughing, but when you look closer you realize a lot of them are still working in some way or another. Lily has the inner workings of her drone exposed, tinkering while Dani and Tyler look like they’re securing something to the side of his truck.

Suddenly what felt like a great idea earlier now seems silly. So does your sundress and the time you spent making yourself look nice. Any attempt to enact your plan would mean intruding on their little bubble. Besides, you’re not even sure this hairbrained idea would even work on Scott a second time. 

You turn to head back to your room when Tyler calls out, “Hey city girl, you want a beer?”

You freeze, eyes closing briefly as you realize there’s no turning back now. You’ve been spotted. When you face him again Tyler is watching you with a casual, expectant smile. He leans against the hood of his truck with one arm draped over it.

“Come on, we don’t bite,” he encourages. 

“Not unless you ask us to,” Boone chimes in, earning a collective groan and playful slap to the back of his head from Dani.

Someone tosses you a beer, and you fumble to catch it. It’s icy and slippery. Tyler watches you with a raised eyebrow as a slow, amused smile spreads across his face. You’ve never felt less cool in your life and you end up looking anywhere but him. 

“Hey…you’re an engineer right?” Lily calls out. “You wanna take a look at the wing here? She’s giving me some trouble.”

You glance at the Storm Par van, half expecting Scott to come to scold you for even considering helping the enemy, but he’s still inside. 

“Tin Man seems pretty tied up with his work,” Tyler observes. “I think you’re safe to join us, Dorothy.”

You blink, both surprised and a bit embarrassed to realize just how obvious you must be. “Uh, yeah, I can take a look,” you tell Lily.

She grins, shifting back on her heels. You follow her over to the truck to examine the drone. Lily talks you through everything she’s already tried so far with Cairo and you ask her a few questions in return. After a bit of trial and error, you identify the issue. Thankfully it's a quick fix. 

Boone lets out a low whistle, impressed. “You know, if things don’t pan out with the corporate overlords, I bet Ty would offer you a spot on our team.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you reply, watching Tyler round the truck and draw closer to you.

“I’m a much nicer boss than Scout,” he promises.

“He’s not my boss,” you remind Tyler. “And his name is Scott.”

“Oh, I know, sweetheart,” he intones, holding your gaze with an intensity that makes it hard to focus on anything but the way he’s looking at you.

You let out a nervous little chuckle, realizing that you hadn’t actually planned for anything beyond capturing Tyler’s attention. Glancing down at the beer in your hands, you fiddle with the label until Tyler takes the bottle. He twists off the cap and hands it back without a word.

You offer him a quick, “thanks,” and take a sip. The lukewarm, hoppy flavor tingles on your tongue. You make a face.

“Not a beer girl?” Tyler asks, drawing back to give you a thoughtful once-over. He hums consideringly. “No, you strike me as a rosé-all-day type.”

“Actually, I’m a whisky girl,” you lie, grinning at the surprised blink you get in response.

“I must be losing my touch,” he confesses, leaning into your space and letting you catch the faint scent of his cologne or deodorant—something sharp and clean like the ozone that lingers in the air after a storm. “Unless, of course, you’re just messing with me,” he continues. “But you wouldn’t do something like that, would you, city girl?”

The way he stares at you suggests that he’s not just talking about your choice of drink. Before you can stop yourself, you look over his shoulder, searching for Scott. Tyler doesn’t turn to see what has your attention. He doesn’t need to, you realize.

“A lesser man might take that as a blow to his ego.” His tone is teasing as he uses two fingers under your chin to gently guide your gaze back to him. “Lucky for you, darlin’, I’m a big boy.”

A prickling warmth spreads across your body, and your jaw muscles tingle with a mix of embarrassment and anxiety. You must have been horribly transparent in your attempt, you realize.

“I’m not…I didn’t,” you stumble over your words as Tyler’s smile grows.

“The decent thing to do is ask,” he encourages. He cranes his neck behind him and you see Scott’s finally noticed the two of you together. “Better make it quick, he’s on his way over here now.” 

“What?”

“You know what,” he replies, tapping your nose.

Panic settles in, your reluctance to admit what you were trying to do warring with your desire to get Scott’s attention. “Okay, okay, fine,” you relent. “I’m trying to make Scott jealous.”

You can see Scott over Tyler’s shoulder now, his expression dark. He’s second away from being in hearing range. “Tyler. Please.”

“Well since you said the magic word.” 

He turns and in one smooth motion throws his arm over your shoulder to draw you in close. That seems to surprise Scott whose pace slows as he approaches. Your heart flutters wildly in your chest as you gaze up at him, acutely aware of Tyler’s body pressed firmly against your side.

“Hey, Scooter,” Tyler greets. “Want a beer?”

Scott’s cheek ripples in annoyance. “No,” he says curtly. 

“Suit yourself.” Tyler shrugs. He grabs the bottle in your hand and takes a long drink from it before handing it back to you. “Nothing better than a cold one after a day of chasing storms.”

Scott’s nostrils flare and he utters your name in a clipped tone. 

“Uh, I better go,” you tell Tyler. “Thanks for the beer.”

“Well, I hope to see more of you later, sweetheart,” he replies with a wink. 

The second you’re within reach, Scott’s hand is on your upper back and quickly moves to rest at the base of your neck. You feel a little like an errant school child with the way he guides you past the rest of Tyler’s crew, whose goodbyes are decidedly less enthusiastic than their welcome. Boone glances between you and Scott, making a face that you can’t quite decipher.

“I thought you were headed to bed early,” Scott accuses as soon as you’re out of earshot of the crew. He’s tense beside you, fingers flexing against your skin. 

“I was but then the Wrangler crew invited me to join them for a beer.” He doesn’t need to know you sought them out for your ill-conceived plan. 

Scott scoffs, moving in front of you. He stares down at you. “You shouldn’t be wasting your time with those hillbillies.” 

“They aren’t so bad,” you defend until he pins you with a quelling look. You know Scott well enough by now to drop the topic, even if his words don’t sit quite right with you. Tyler and his friends were nothing but kind to you tonight.

“Storm Par can’t be seen spending time with those amateurs. It’s bad for business. You should know better.”

You realize, with a sinking feeling, that he’s not jealous — he’s just angry. He’d probably be just as upset if another member of your team was seen mingling with the so-called enemy. How could you have been stupid enough to think talking to Tyler would make him want you again? 

“Come on,” Scott urges, seemingly intent on walking you back to your hotel room. 

At the door, you wave the card over the keypad and shoulder the old, warped door open. Before you can turn to bid Scott a good night a hand on your hips pushes you forward and he follows you inside. The door shuts and he plucks the keycard from your hands, thoughtlessly tossing it on the bedside table.

His mouth is on yours before you can speak, his hands grabbing at the hem of your sundress. The shift in his mood is enough to disorient you and you don’t resist when his tongue invades your mouth. The back of your knees hit the bed and then he’s on top of you, warm and solid. He pulls roughly at the strap of your dress, his teeth nipping at the exposed skin. When you feel his hand land on your inner thigh you push at his chest. 

“Wait, Scott,” you breathe. This feels nothing like your last time together. 

He pulls back, a tick in his jaw as he stares down at you. “It's been a long day,” he says, “and we both know you want this.”

You do want him, more than anything, but there’s something about his tone and words that dredge up an uncomfortable feeling in your chest. It makes your skin prickle, and you avert your gaze, suddenly uncertain. Above you, Scott sighs, and you feel his fingertips gently touch your jaw. You think of Tyler suddenly, his teasing tone and the amusement in his green eyes. When you look back at Scott, his unreadable blue eyes meet yours. 

The bed creaks as he shifts back. “I can just go,” he offers.

“No, please don’t.” The words escape your lips before you even realize you’ve spoken. This is what you wanted, you remind yourself. Scott’s the kind of man you always dreamed about, handsome and intelligent – one of those Ivy League boys who never looked twice at you in college. 

“Good answer,” he says with a smile.

You pull him closer, and as his lips find yours once more, the lingering discomfort fades away. You’re finally getting what you’ve wanted.

 Aren’t you?

Part 2

♡

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[rootedinrevisions]

More Than a Game

SUMMARY: When you join Glen Powell for a night under the bright Texas stadium lights, you expect an evening of football and fun—but what you don’t expect is the sting of an offhand comment that shakes your confidence. As Glen’s world of fans and flashing cameras surrounds you, he’s quick to remind you of where you stand: by his side, as the one who holds his heart. With every protective gesture, from offering you his jacket to placing his prized Stetson on your head, Glen shows the world that you’re not just another face in the crowd—you’re someone special.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I couldn't see the way Glen was looking at the Texas football game and NOT write something about it. I combined a little bit of my idea from seeing him at the game last night with a request I received for protective Glen defending you. I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. Hope you all enjoy it!

WARNINGS: Some body shaming/slight bullying. But mostly this is fluff. Implied smut happening later.

WORD COUNT: 3.1K

TAG LIST: SEE COMMENTS

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

Glen Powell (himself and the characters he's played)

Top Gun: Maverick (Hangman, Rooster, possibly others soon)

Marvel / MCU (Bucky Barnes as of now, but possibly others soon)

WWE / Wrestling

The drive to the game felt like it had gone by in a blur, but your heart was still racing. You kept sneaking glances at Glen, who was effortlessly steering his truck down familiar Austin streets, humming along to the country song playing softly through the speakers. The sight of him in his burnt orange jacket, his dark brown Stetson resting on the dash, made you smile. He was so deeply Texan, so deeply himself, and you loved that about him.

But today was different. Today wasn’t just another day at his place or one of your quiet, private dinners. Today, you were stepping into his world, a world filled with football fans, media, and curious eyes.

“You sure about this?” Glen’s voice broke through your thoughts, and you turned to see his warm, brown eyes on you. There was a hint of concern in his gaze, even though his usual confident smile was still there. His hand was resting on your thigh, his fingers gently squeezing you.

You nodded, but the butterflies in your stomach refused to settle. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

“You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready, you know that, right?” His thumb brushed back and forth against your leg, a soothing motion that made it hard to focus on anything but his touch.

You exhaled, trying to release some of the tension you’d been carrying all morning. “I know, but... I want to. I’m just a little nervous.”

Glen’s hand shifted, his fingers intertwining with yours now as he brought your hand up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “You’ve got nothing to be nervous about. You’re with me, okay? It’s just a game. And no matter what, I’m right here.”

The simplicity of his words, the steady calm in his voice, grounded you in a way that nothing else could. Glen had a way of making everything feel right, even when the rest of the world felt chaotic. You smiled at him, feeling your nerves slowly easing, though a small part of you still wondered what it would be like to step into the spotlight with him.

“I’m right here,” he repeated, giving your hand another reassuring squeeze before resting it back on your thigh. 

The warmth of his palm was a quiet reminder of the man beside you—the man who’d chosen you, wanted you in his life. Even with his hectic schedule, the endless stream of filming projects, press tours, and interviews, Glen always made time for you. No matter how chaotic things got, he’d find a way to carve out moments that were just yours. Whether it was late-night phone calls when he was halfway around the world or surprising you with a weekend getaway after a grueling shoot, he never made you feel like you were competing with his career. He always made you feel like you mattered.

And today, with everything on his plate, he was still here—hand in yours, offering you the steady reassurance that, despite all the noise of his world, you were the part that grounded him.

As you approached the stadium, the sight of fans in burnt orange, waving flags, and cheering already filled the air. Glen’s hand never left you, and as you pulled into the parking lot, he gave your leg one last reassuring squeeze before turning off the engine. He flashed you that signature smile, the one that made your heart skip and leaned in slightly.

“Let’s do this, yeah?”

You nodded, your nerves still there but softened by the fact that Glen was beside you—steady, calm, and exactly the kind of person who could turn an overwhelming moment into something that felt safe.

The hum of the stadium grew louder as you and Glen made your way through the corridors, his hand never leaving yours. Each step you took, the anticipation in the air grew thicker. The faint sound of a band playing echoed through the concrete walls, the roar of the crowd amplifying with every turn.

And then, you stepped out into the open.

The sight was overwhelming at first—the sea of burnt orange stretching as far as the eye could see, flags waving proudly in the stands, the stadium alive with energy. The lights beamed down on the field, casting a golden hue across the manicured grass. The sheer size of it, the passion radiating from the crowd—it was more than you had imagined. 

For a moment, you stood still, taking it all in, the magnitude of where you were sinking in. This was Glen's world, and it was as vibrant and electric as he’d always said. You felt his eyes on you before you even turned to him. When you glanced up, you found him smiling at you, a look of quiet pride and happiness on his face. He loved this. It wasn’t just the game, the culture, the tradition—it was sharing it with you. Seeing you take in the thing he loved most with such wonder lit up something in him.

His hand gently squeezed yours, pulling you closer as he murmured, "You alright?"

You nodded, smiling as you glanced back out at the stadium. "Yeah. This is... it's incredible."

He chuckled softly, his voice warm with affection. "I told you." His gaze lingered on you, his eyes soft as he watched you soak in the moment. "I'm glad you're here with me. Means a lot."

You looked up at him, feeling that familiar warmth in your chest. You meant a lot to him. Even in the midst of all this—the noise, the chaos, the spectacle—his focus was still on you. Glen Powell, the Texas boy with a larger-than-life career and a love for this sport, was standing here, looking at you like you were the most important part of this moment.

Your heart swelled, and as you shared a quiet smile with him, you knew—this was more than just a game. It was a part of who Glen was, and you were honored to be a part of it, a part of him.

You could see the players warming up, coaches barking orders, and media personnel buzzing around, all while the game raged on. It was an atmosphere you could only describe as electric.

But then, the attention started to shift. One by one, people began noticing Glen. A few fans from the crowd above called his name, waving enthusiastically as they snapped pictures from their phones. It wasn’t long before a group of people nearby on the sidelines approached him—some familiar faces, others eager fans who clearly recognized him. Glen responded with his signature easy charm, greeting each person with that warm, affable smile you knew so well.

But through it all, he never let go of your hand.

If anything, his grip tightened slightly, reassuring you that even in the middle of the excitement, you were his priority. As he talked to a couple of reporters who recognized him from past interviews, he kept you close, standing just a step behind him, your shoulder brushing his arm.

Every so often, Glen would glance back at you, as if to check in, his eyes softening every time they met yours. His hand would occasionally shift to the small of your back, that familiar warmth spreading through you as he kept you grounded in this whirlwind of activity.

"Hey, I want you to meet someone," Glen said, his voice filled with excitement as he turned to you. 

He introduced you to one of the assistant coaches, and a couple of old friends from his time at the University of Texas. Each time, he spoke your name with quiet pride, like he was sharing a part of his world with them. And every time he did, you felt your nerves ease a little more.

As the two of you made your way further down the sidelines more and more people seemed to start to recognize Glen. Glen shook hands and greeted them warmly, but never let go of you. Even as more people started to crowd around, he kept you close by his side, his hand drifting to the small of your back when someone leaned in to say hello.

But as the attention on Glen grew, so did the whispers. At first, it was just a few curious glances, the kind you expected when people recognized a celebrity.

But then, as you stood by Glen’s side, a voice behind you made your stomach drop.

"Wait, is that his girlfriend?" a girl whispered, her tone laced with disbelief.

"Yeah, I think so," someone else replied, not even bothering to lower their voice. "I thought he'd be dating someone… prettier."

Your heart sank, the casual cruelty of their words cutting deeper than you expected. You tried to keep your face neutral, but it was like the air had been sucked out of your lungs. For a moment, the excitement of the game, the energy of the crowd—all of it faded into the background, replaced by the sharp sting of their comment.

Prettier. The word echoed in your head, twisting your stomach into knots. You swallowed hard, trying to push it away, but the insecurity started creeping in, faster than you could stop it. You suddenly felt out of place, self-conscious in a way you hadn’t before. Here, in this world that Glen seemed to fit into so effortlessly, you couldn’t help but feel like you didn’t measure up.

Glen must have sensed the shift in your demeanor, because he turned toward you, his smile faltering as he noticed the look on your face. His hand slipped from your back to your arm, gently tugging you closer. 

"Hey, you okay?" he asked, his voice soft and full of concern.

You hesitated, your eyes darting to the ground as you forced a smile. 

"Yeah, I’m fine," you said, trying to brush it off, but your voice came out smaller than you intended.

But Glen wasn’t buying it. He tilted his head, his brows knitting together as he looked at you with that gentle but piercing gaze, the one that always seemed to know when something was bothering you. "What happened?"

You swallowed, debating whether to say anything. It felt silly, childish even, to let a stranger’s comment get under your skin. But it did, and Glen could see it.

After a beat, you sighed and leaned in, lowering your voice. "Someone made a dumb comment," you murmured, barely loud enough for him to hear.

His brow furrowed further, his hand gently rubbing your arm. "What did they say?" he asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and concern.

You bit your lip, your pulse quickening as you replayed the words in your head. "They said…" you hesitated, the words feeling heavy on your tongue. "They thought you'd be dating someone prettier."

For a second, Glen didn’t say anything. His expression hardened, his jaw clenching ever so slightly as the meaning of your words sank in. You could see the protective instinct kicking in, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the area behind you, searching for the source of the comment. It was subtle, but you could feel the shift in him, the way his body tensed, ready to defend you.

But instead of turning to confront the person, he took a breath and refocused on you. His hand moved from your arm to your face, gently cradling your cheek as he leaned in closer to you.

"Look at me," he said quietly, his voice steady and full of warmth.

You blinked up at him, the noise of the stadium fading into the background as you met his gaze.

"Don’t listen to them," Glen said softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek. "They don’t know you. They don’t know us. And they sure as hell don’t know what they’re talking about."

You felt a lump rise in your throat as his words washed over you. It was hard to shake the doubt, but Glen’s presence, his unwavering confidence in you, made it easier to breathe.

He smiled a soft, affectionate smile that was just for you. "You’re the most beautiful person here, and not just because of how you look," he continued, his voice low but firm. "But because of who you are. And I wouldn’t want anyone else by my side. Ever."

Your heart swelled at his words, the weight of the earlier comment slowly lifting. Glen leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than usual. When he pulled back, his eyes sparkled with that familiar warmth that always made you feel safe.

"And just so you know," Glen added, a teasing grin tugging at his lips, "if anyone says anything else, they’ll have to deal with me."

"You’re too good to me," you whispered.

Glen’s grin softened, his hand sliding back down to your waist as he pulled you close. "Nah," he said, pressing another kiss to your temple, "I’m just lucky to have you."

As the crisp Texas air settled around you, Glen’s attention shifted. He could feel the slight chill in the air, and without missing a beat, he glanced over at you.

“You cold?” he asked, his voice soft yet full of care.

You shook your head at first, but Glen wasn’t having it.

“Here,” he said, shrugging off his leather jacket, the scent of him—spice and something distinctly Glen—filling the space between you. “Put this on.”

You hesitated for a second, but he was already holding it out for you, his hands poised to help you slide your arms through. As you slipped into the warmth of his jacket, Glen’s hands rested lightly on your shoulders, adjusting it to fit just right. He stepped back, eyes scanning you for a moment with a satisfied smile.

Just when you thought the gesture was over, Glen reached up, taking his dark brown Stetson off his head. Your eyes widened in surprise—this was Glen’s favorite hat, the one you knew he was almost possessive over. It was a custom one that was a gift from his parents a few years back. It had a "Hook 'Em" logo on the back. He never let anyone wear it. So when he carefully placed it on top of your head, tipping it just so, you couldn’t help the confused laugh that bubbled out of you.

“You... you don't let anyone wear this,” you said, your voice full of disbelief as you adjusted the brim.

Glen’s smile widened, his hazel eyes gleaming with amusement. “You aren’t just anyone,” he replied, stepping closer until there was barely an inch of space between you. “You’re someone special.”

The warmth in his voice matched the flutter of your heart, sending a rush of heat through your body despite the cool air. Your fingers tightened around the lapels of his jacket, pulling it closer to you, feeling the warmth of him linger in the leather. The smile that crept onto your face was involuntary, the way his words wrapped around you more effectively than any jacket could.

Glen’s hands found your waist again, tugging you closer until you were wrapped up in him. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered just for you, his breath hot against your skin. “You remember what it means to wear a man’s cowboy hat, right?”

You couldn’t help but smirk at his words, the playful challenge clear in his tone.

“Oh, I remember,” you murmured back, glancing up at him with a glint in your eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll fulfill my end of the deal... back at your place.”

Glen chuckled, low and satisfied, pulling you into another hug before stepping back. “That’s what I like to hear,” he said, winking as he tilted the brim of the Stetson down slightly, casting a shadow over your face. It was such a simple, playful moment, but the intimacy behind it left a warmth simmering between the two of you.

With his arm around your waist, you both continued walking down the sidelines, navigating through a sea of fans and sidelong glances. Glen kept you close, his hand secure around your hip as he smiled and waved at familiar faces. 

But his grip on you tightened a little when you both overheard a comment from a nearby fan. “What does he see in someone like…her,” the girl muttered to her friend, her voice loud enough for you to hear, but quiet enough to think she could get away with it.

The words hit you like a jolt, and you instinctively drew in closer to Glen, trying to brush it off, but the sting lingered. 

Glen must have felt your reaction, sensed the shift in your mood, because before you could even fully process the comment, his hand slid protectively to the small of your back, gently pulling you even closer.

“Because she’s gorgeous,” Glen said, not loud enough for the girls to hear, but just for you. His voice was full of certainty, leaving no room for doubt. “Don’t ever forget that.”

His words were a balm, softening the sharp edges of your insecurity. You smiled up at him, thankful for his ability to ground you with just a few words. Glen grinned back, and then, as if to solidify his point, he reached up and adjusted the Stetson on your head again, a playful reminder of who you were with.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked, his thumb tracing comforting circles against your side.

You nodded, mustering up a more genuine smile now. “Yeah. Thanks to you.”

He looked satisfied with that, giving you a light squeeze before glancing around the stadium again. “You know,” he began, his tone shifting to something a little more casual, “we don’t have to stay down here. The suites are up top, and we could have a little more privacy. What do you say?”

The idea of some quiet away from the lingering eyes sounded appealing, especially if it meant getting to spend more time with Glen without the constant buzz of onlookers. “That sounds perfect,” you said, leaning into him slightly.

Glen’s grin widened as he pulled you in closer and guided you toward the stairs. “Good. Let’s go before you get too comfortable in my hat,” he teased, his tone light, but his hand on you steady and reassuring.

As you made your way up toward the suites, the tension from earlier slowly melted away, replaced by the warmth of Glen’s unwavering presence. You might have been in the middle of a crowd, but with his jacket around your shoulders and his Stetson perched on your head, it was clear to anyone watching—you were his, and he was yours.

[coastalwind]

Based on who showed up more on my dash this month

RB to reach more people pleeease

[lewmagoo]

me watching my dash turn into glen powell land

[unicornships]

“A Glen Powell thirst trap to tide you for your Friday.” indeed. looking dashing and dapper with great charming smiles in that all black snazzy suit on the Devotion premiere.

[angryschnauzer]

Where are my Glen Powell mutuals? I could have sworn i followed a bunch of people who wrote for him as my dash was flooded with him when Top Gun Maverick came out. Having just seen Twisters i wanna read more of this dudes roles, but can't find who wrote for him...

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

‘Cause You’re a Sky Full of Stars (I’m Gonna Give You My Heart)

Part Two of Sometimes All You Need (A Getaway Car)

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Description: After your whirlwind meeting at the bar, you and Jake finally go on your first date.

Disclaimer: Insecurities on the part of Gorgeous Girl,

Warnings: afab!reader

Word Count: 4460

A/N: Hi! I'm back! This concept took over my brain and I had to write Jake and Gorgeous Girl's first date. Like the last installment, I listened to a song to get the creative juices flowing. So without further ado, this part is sponsored by Coldplay's A Sky Full of Stars and this picture of Glen Powell. Thanks to @bradshawsbaby for their service and for bringing that sinful image to my dash! Also I have a billion thanks to @roosterbruiser for proofreading and feedback as well!

AO3: Cross-posted here! My Masterlist

Previous Part | Series Masterlist | Next Part

You wake up slowly, with your mouth fuzzy and eyes screwed shut. Your limbs feel heavy as you sit up, wrapped in a cocoon of your blankets. After detangling yourself, you shuffle into your bathroom and mechanically go about your morning routine. The sun is dipping through the slits in your blinds as you traipse downstairs and wait zombie-like, mug in hand, in front of your coffee maker as it finishes brewing your coffee. The first sip of the rich and dark brew reminds you of the whiskey you’d shared with Jake the night before. Flashes of the night before whirl through your mind as you contemplate whether 10 AM on a Saturday is too early to text him. To let him know that you’re thinking about him. At the very least, you can see if he’s texted you back after all, right?

“Text me, gorgeous girl!” His parting words from the night before sound even sweeter, ricocheting through your mind in the stark morning light as you stand barefoot, in your pajamas and bedhead, on your kitchen tile. Your toes curl unbidden as you think of the look in those green, green eyes as you said goodnight. The thought of those eyes has you unlocking your phone and navigating to your messages. His contact makes you grin. A tipsy, man-drunk you had picked the right choice, leaving 🤠💚 after his name. While the three messages you’d sent the night before are cringy, you’re half expecting there to be no response from Jake at all. But there they are, received at 6:30 in the morning.

You gawp unflatteringly at the screen in your hand. Did he say he dreamed? Of you? It’s official. Jake Seresin is terrible for your mental clarity and your sanity. His messages are giving you whiplash outright. You’re haunting his dreams in one second, and he’s bantering with you about Batman in the next.

You’re not expecting any more responses from him. Anyone awake at 6 AM on a Saturday is sure to have a busy day planned. You, yourself, have plans to meet your best friend for brunch in the city.  So you knock back the remains of your coffee and head back upstairs to get ready.

You see Jake’s response when you’re collecting your things with sunglasses perched on your face nearly an hour later. You’re fully dressed in a graphic t-shirt, cut-offs, and sneakers for brunch.

Butterflies run rampant in your stomach as you hook your phone up to your convertible’s sound system and blast music on the way to the restaurant you’d decided on with your friend for brunch. You meet her there promptly at 11:30, greeting her with hugs and laughter. It isn’t until you’re at the table and each holding a drink, fresh-squeezed orange juice and coffee for you and a mimosa for her, that the Spanish Inquisition begins. Callie, now back in San Diego permanently, broaches the topic of your date with James. She’d been the chief architect of your Tinder profile and your biggest cheerleader as you agonized over what to wear the night before.

“Sorry, Cal,” you grin at her, “James sucked!” At her glare, you spill the whole tale. Her glare softens into a wince as you mention all the things James said about his ex and his mother. It’s when you mention Jake that something changes. 

“Jake?” she asks.

“Yeah,” you’re smiling that giddy fond grin again, unable to make eye contact.

“And he's in the Navy?”

“Yeah.”

“A Naval Aviator?”

“That’s what he said, Cal.” There is a pause as you digest what she’s getting at. “Wait. Callie! You’re a Naval Aviator. Do you know him?”

You grasp your friend’s hands as you plead for more information. She carefully extricates herself from your grip, rotating her wrists, and primly pushes her sunglasses up her nose. She’s letting you stew in your realization, the bitch. If only she weren’t your best friend since you were twelve. As much as you hate her need for suspense at the moment, you also know you wouldn’t trade her for anyone else in the world. So you sip on your juice and wait. It isn’t until the food is on the table that she responds to your frantic questions.

“I know a Jake, who is a Naval Aviator. But a knight in shining armor, he is not. If I had to describe him, I’d describe him as a complete and total dick.” She lifts her hand at your falling face, gesturing at you to stop whatever your face is doing. “Do you remember a couple of months ago when I was back on North Island for that secret detachment mission?”

“Yeah, Cal, I do.”

“And do you remember that one night when we met for dinner at that place with the pitchers of spicy margaritas and the mouth-watering tacos? I was venting about this complete and utter asshole, callsign Hangman, who persisted in leaving everyone behind?”

You nod.

“That’s him. He’s changed over the past few months since the squadron was permanently assigned to North Island. But I’m still worried about what he’ll do to you. He goes through girls like he does those damned toothpicks he always has in his mouth. Sweet and gorgeous girls who want forever aren’t really his thing.”  She’s serious now. There isn’t a hint of the laughter usually on her face. “But, I also know you. He’s your type. He has been since we were giggling about boys for the first time. I’m not going to stop you from going out with him. You deserve to have someone who makes you smile like you were earlier. This is just a warning, and I want you to know I have your back. I will beat him up if he makes you cry. I also expect to be named your Maid of Honor if this relationship goes that far.”

You smile tremulously at your best friend and rock, grateful to have her support even if she isn’t happy about you seeing him again. The both of you begin to scarf down your meals in companionable silence.

When there’s barely any food left on the plates, you pick up the conversation again. “Cal, I should probably mention that he asked me out to dinner this morning. He’s picking me up at 6 at my place. Would you please, please, please help me pick out something to wear?” you beg, now, batting your best puppy dog eyes at your friend.

“Sure,” she grumbles, finishing the last of her mimosa. “What did he say was the dress code?”

You pull out your phone and check your messages.

You hand Callie your phone, letting her scroll through your messages with Jake. Her eyebrows climb as she scrolls through the messages.

“It looks like he’s trying to impress you by doing something on the beach. What do you think about heading to that boutique downtown? The one where I found that gorgeous sparkly blazer you love so much?” She asks as you split the bill. Both of you get into your car and drive into the city with the summer breeze ruffling through your hair and the sun shining brightly.

It had taken three hours for you and Callie to decide on an outfit for your date. You’d tried on what felt like hundreds of sundresses before ultimately picking out a green flowy dress and strappy sandals. Cute and casual but not sloppy. It felt like no time had passed between when you headed home and now as you looked at yourself in the mirror. You touch up your makeup and pursed your lips to apply lipstick in the same burgundy shade as the night before.

The doorbell rings, and the butterflies in your stomach decide to swarm up your esophagus. You open the front door to see Jake standing in front of you, wearing a pair of aviators and clutching a bouquet in his hand. He hands the bouquet to you with a heart-stopping grin. The arrangement is gorgeous, dark red carnations interspersed with sprigs of white baby’s breath.

“Hi Jake,” you grin, bringing the bouquet to your nose, inhaling deeply to get a whiff of the flowers’ delicate fragrance. “Please, come in. Let me put these in water, and then I’m ready to go.”

Jake steps in, and you close the door behind him. He’s wearing a soft sage-colored Henley t-shirt rolled up his forearms, a pair of worn jeans, and cowboy boots. You can hear him stomping behind you as you walk into the kitchen and grab a vase from a shelf. There is something different about seeing Jake Seresin in your house. He’s carefully examining everything, from the pictures on the walls to the books on your shelves. You finish up with the flowers and stand next to him in front of the bookshelf. He’s got your worn copy of Pride and Prejudice in his hands.

“Have you ever read it?” you ask, curious.

“I have. It’s my twin sister’s favorite book.” His eyes are fond as he flips to the bookmark you left the last time you’d picked the book up, right at Darcy’s first confession of love to Elizabeth.

“My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you. In declaring myself thus I'm fully aware that I will be going expressly against the wishes of my family, my friends, and, I hardly need add, my own better judgement.” His voice is perfect. He manages to portray every emotion in Darcy’s voice while staring deep into your eyes. The moment stretches into something tender and heavy. You’re barely breathing, cataloging the flecks of gold and brown swimming in his eyes. You nearly kick yourself for breaking his gaze when you gently grab the book from his hands, close it, and set it on the shelf.

“Dinner?” you ask, grabbing the last of your things and putting them in your bag.

“Dinner,” Jake murmurs back, voice soft. He’s the perfect gentleman, pulling the front door open for you, waiting at the bottom of the stairs while you lock the door, and helping you into his behemoth of a truck.

The windows are down again, with the radio still tuned to the same country station. Instead of heading towards downtown San Diego, Jake points the truck north, driving up I-5.

“Where are we going?” you ask, enjoying the evening breeze as you cruise effortlessly on the roads.

“La Jolla. There is this amazing Italian restaurant on the beach. I thought we’d eat dinner there and then walk along the beach?” There’s a pause, and then, “But if you don’t like Italian, I’m sure we can find other restaurants in the area.” He sounds flustered.

You shouldn’t be feeling amused, yet you can’t keep the smile from your voice as you place your hand over his and say, “Italian is perfect.” You glance over at him, seeing that his aviators are once again snugly perched on his nose. You can see the light nervous blush coloring his golden cheeks. As much as you’d like to see how far his blush goes, you change the subject instead, asking, “How was your day?”

He seems too eager to respond, mentioning running in the morning, eating brunch, hanging out with some squadron members, and playing dogfight football on the beach. You’re not quite sure what dogfight football entails. Callie has mentioned it before too. When you ask Jake, his explanation, which involves two footballs and keeping score while defending your team from the opposing team's football, sets your head spinning. Keeping track of the rules for American Football is already too much. He’s scandalized, green eyes peering at you from over the rim of his aviators when you tell him as much. The rest of your trip to the restaurant is spent with him trying and failing to portray the football field verbally and describe plays to you. You’re smiling uncontrollably, regardless, when the truck pulls into a spot in front of the restaurant. As promised, the restaurant is on the beachfront. The sun is setting in blossoms of red and gold that transition to violet in front of your eyes.

“It’s a stunning view, isn’t it.” You startle at the sound of his voice, a little surprised to see the driver’s seat empty and Jake standing next to you in the open truck door. “Ready for dinner?”

“I’m famished,” you grin as you take his hand and hop out of the truck. You conclude that Jake draws attention everywhere you go, especially when you hear the giggling from the hostess and your waitress as she leads you to your table. Your waitress’ eyes goggle when Jake pulls out your chair for you before folding gracefully into his own across from you.

"What can I get you, sir?" she simpers, pressing her arms together to get Jake's eyes on her bosom.

"Darlin', do you know what you'd like to drink?" Jake asks you instead, ignoring the display from your waitress in its entirety.

"I'm not sure. I'd love to order a glass of wine." You waver, second-hand embarrassment for your waitress' peacocking melting into your tone.

"Can we have a couple of glasses of your house red, please?" Jake asks your waitress, once again keeping his tone polite and eyes on her face and not her over-exposed assets.

Her downcast face and Jake's smug, mischievous grin nearly have you laughing at the table as she walks away. Behind Jake, you can see a desperate powwow as your waitress, hostess, and other waitresses desperately try to get a game plan together to attract his attention.

"Sweets.”

“Doll.” 

“Gorgeous?!" You snap back to Jake and your table with a sheepish grin.

"Sorry," You’re grinning shyly as you respond, "our waitress, the hostess, and a few other waitresses all look like they're going to war behind you."

"War?" He drawls, eyes still looking right at you. "What exactly would they be going to war over?"

"You." You murmur, embarrassed to have brought it up. You continue at the sardonic tilt to his raised eyebrow, "They're going to wage war against me over you. I'm sure it's happened to you before. The waitstaff deciding that the girl you're having dinner with isn't as pretty as you deserve?"

There is an understanding look on his face now. You're unsure if you should say anything further, but save yourself the embarrassment and effort when your waitress returns with the wine. The next moments are full of Jake tasting the wine, deeming it acceptable, and your waitress pouring each of you a glass. You sip slowly at the rich, tart, sweet liquid and wait until your waitress has stepped away again.

This time, when Jake utters, "Gorgeous girl," in that Texan growl, your eyes are on him already. His hand is held upright, halfway across the table, fingers wiggling imperiously.

"Take my hand, beautiful?" You can't say no when asked like that and place your hand in his.

Satisfied, he continues, "I'm only going to say this once, so I hope you hear me and completely understand what I'm saying. Yes, it has happened before. But the waitstaff at a restaurant isn't who I'm having dinner with. When I'm out to dinner with a girl, all my attention is on her. I could care less if the sky is falling or elephants are roaming the restaurant and acting as the sommelier. My attention tonight is on you and only you." He punctuates that entire impassioned statement with a squeeze of your fingers.

You're flushed again, cheeks hot under his knowing gaze, and you evade his eyes by dipping your head to peer at your menu. Things are quiet as you order your entrée, something the menu says is lightly dressed in the house marinara sauce.

Once you're both alone at the table again, you murmur, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed anything. Just chalk it up to my rampant insecurities. I really like you. And I’m trying not to sabotage this, but I guess I just did.”

“Hey, sweets. It’s alright. You’re only human. And gorgeous. If I have to tell you that every day, I will.” He’s smiling now, a tender sweet curl to his lips. 

"Jake? I realized today that our worlds intersect far more closely than I thought they did. And I need to tell you this before we go any further."

"What do you mean?" He murmurs back with his voice pitched low to accommodate the serene environment in the restaurant.

"I mean, that I had brunch with my best friend today. Her name is Callie, Callie Bassett. I've known her since I was twelve years old. As I'm sure you know, she's a Naval Aviator, too. Her callsign is Halo, and she's on your squadron." His shoulders tense, hunching towards his ears as you continue. "She told me that I should be careful with you, that you aren't the type to look for forever in a girl. And I like you. I really like you, more than I thought I would, and probably far too much for how long we've known one another. But I want to give you and me a shot. I just need to know you're looking for the same thing."

“Gorgeous girl,” his voice is husky and a bit scratchy as he responds to your plea, "I know it may not look like it to my squadron, but I am looking for forever. The Navy has kept me moving all over the country and the world for years. It never felt right to look for forever when I knew that at a drop of a hat I could be sent anywhere in the world. How could I leave somebody to go through a life we built, all alone with me a million miles away? So I stuck to girls who weren’t looking for anything serious. And as my career grew, so did my reputation as a womanizer. Now, no matter how I look, I keep finding girls looking for one night, not forever. At least, I hope, until I ran into you in that bar last night."

His eyes are unbearably soft and sad as he sips his wine. You tug his hand forward and press a kiss on his knuckles, nuzzling at his hand just a little.

“Jake, I can’t say I have any experience in moving around the world and not being able to put down roots. But for now, all I have to say is, I hope we can build something good between us,” you murmur back. His eyes shine at your words.

Your entrées come out in a cloud of sweet tomato, garlic, and basil. After the serious conversation you had just had, the rest of the night is light. You compliment the food, share bites of each other's entrees, and chat about work, your families, about everything you can think of, including the likelihood that Jake is Batman. He pays for your meals despite your protests, leading you out onto the beach hand in hand. You both take your shoes off and walk barefoot through the sand, continuing to chat lightly.

You're about a quarter of a mile from the restaurant when Jake pulls you to a halt, tugging on your hand and pulling you towards him. His hair is windswept, as is yours, and he's smiling. You're both smiling, honestly, and have been for much of the night.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks. He reels you further into his embrace at your nod until your hand is splayed over his heart. He slowly brushes your hair aside and tips your head up. He carefully brushes his nose against yours and waits, letting you feel the lightest brush of his lips. 

"Gonna kiss you now," he groans before capturing your mouth with his. You melt in his arms, eyes fluttering closed as his tongue presses insistently against the seam of your lips until you part them. Your head is wholly occupied with Jake; his hands on you, his mouth on yours, his tongue, the taste of the wine you’d shared, the heady scent of his cologne, and the feeling of his muscular body holding you impossibly close.

Your breathing is ragged when he finally pulls away. You're desperately sucking in deep breaths of air because you're sure you forgot to breathe mid-kiss, your mind chanting Jake, Jake, Jake in a worshiping manner. When you glance at him, his lips are spit slicked and bitten red. He looks fantastic, and you nearly haul him back down for another kiss. You hold yourself back, though. Public indecency charges wouldn't look good on either of your records. He seems to be deliberating the same thing if the look in his eyes as he subtly adjusts the front of his jeans says anything. 

But rather than act on your mutual desire, he grasps your hand securely in his and leads you back to the truck. He'd nursed a single glass of wine all night, so you let him drive. He helps you up into the passenger seat, though this time, you stop him before he can close the door and tug him into another kiss. This one is softer, more chaste than the one you'd shared on the beach. As he finally pulls away and takes his place in the driver’s seat, you feel it will be impossible to keep your hands off him. Clearly, he's just as affected when he curls his palm over your knee, fingers tracing circles over your kneecap unconsciously.

The I-5 is quiet, for once. The roads are busy but not congested as Jake takes the exits toward San Diego. Instead of taking you home, though, Jake drives you towards North Island. The guard at the base gates greets him cheerfully and lets the truck through. Rather than go onto the base proper, Jake pulls the truck onto a small gravel-lined inlet that lets out on a small, deserted beach. 

"In Texas," he starts, nostalgia deep in his tone, "when we're out in the land surrounding the ranch, you can see the stars for miles. Since I left, I've been searching for a spot to see them. So every time I'm at a new duty station, I search for the perfect star-gazing spot. This is the one I found on North Island. I was hoping you weren't tired of me yet and that you wanted to stargaze with me for a while before I took you home?" He’s smiling as he tucks a toothpick into his mouth.

You grin back at him, murmuring. "Do you know any constellations? I've always wanted to be able to look up at the night sky and point out something. I don't think I can even point out the North Star."

“I know a few. My older brothers taught us how to point out the big ones. Things look a little different here than when we were in Texas, but I can teach you a few. I will make sure you can identify the North Star.” His eyes shine as he peers up to the sky, “It’s the perfect night for stargazing, clear without a cloud in the sky.”

“Is this why you wanted me to wear something I wouldn’t worry about getting sand on?” you ask, grinning at the wonder in his eyes.

“Partially,” he hums, getting out of the truck, helping you out of your seat, and walking you to the tailgate. 

“This,” he’s grinning again, toothpick grasped between his teeth, “is what I wanted you to wear something comfortable for.” You wait as Jake unlatches the tailgate and hoists himself up into the bed of his truck. He pulls out a couple of blankets from a steel crate behind the cab, unfolding one for the two of you to sit on and the other to place over your laps. He then hops off the truck bed and holds his hand to you.

You’re smiling again, laughing at the child-like wonder on his face at the thought of seeing the stars. You step closer, by-passing his outstretched hand, pluck the toothpick out of his mouth, and curl a hand around the back of his neck. His eyes flutter close at the gentle caress. You pet the short, spiky hairs at the base of his neck before dragging your hand down his throat. His eyes stay closed until you work his dog tags out from where they’d been lying against his skin. The metal is smooth and skin-warm in your hand. His name, call sign, and blood type are embossed on them. But you hadn’t gone for his dog tags to examine them. Nope. You wrap the chain in your fingers and tug, pulling his mouth, now smirking, down to yours. You peck his smiling lips, smattering soft kisses across his face as he hefts you easily onto the tailgate, his biceps bulging as he lifts you with hardly any effort. His hands stay on your hips, thumbs rubbing slow circles over you as you gaze into each other’s eyes. 

“Stargazing, sweets.” At your confused moue, he continues, voice gravelly, “I brought you here to show you the stars, not kiss your lipstick off. Can I take your shoes off?” 

You nod, watching as he slides his hands down your legs, undoes the straps of each sandal, and pulls them off. He sets them on the tailgate and hauls himself into the truck bed beside you before toeing his boots off. Jake crawls into the truck bed, sitting with his back against the cab. You join him. He pulls you to sit between his legs, your back pressed against his chest. 

You tip your head and imperiously order him to show you some stars. His laugh vibrates through you from your position nestled against his chest. Looking at the stars with Jake is an enlightening experience. He knows where the constellations are, even in San Diego instead of Texas. He even tells you some of the various myths about the constellations. The highlight of star-gazing with Jake is when you see a shooting star streak across the sky. 

“Close your eyes, sweetheart.” He rumbles out, “Make a wish.”

Make a wish? That you can do. For more enchanting nights with Jake. For more days and nights to get to know Jake. For a chance to show your friends and family the sweet nerd you’d seen underneath the muscle, the boy with stars in his eyes. It’s a thought that sticks with you even as you fall asleep alone that night.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

Taglist:

@teacupsandtopgun 🚙 @jynxmirage 🚙 @cherrycola27 🚙 @desert-fern

Want to be added to the Taglist for this fic? Leave a comment on this masterlist or drop me a message in my inbox!

PLEASE INCLUDE YOUR AGE IN YOUR BIO. I DO NOT ACCEPT TAG-LIST REQUESTS FROM BLANK OR AGELESS BLOGS. THIS IS AS MUCH FOR MY SAFETY AND LEGALITY ON THE INTERNET AS WELL AS YOURS.

[hotgirlmeg]

why is the dash so dead omg i need people to tell me not to talk about glen powell again

[tgmsunmontue]

7am Tuesday morning and my dash is pretty much solid Glen Powell and Miles Teller at the Oscars with some Ryan Gosling singing I am Ken thrown in. And some Young Royals for variety.

Decent dash content.

A+

Highly recommended.

[stupendouspizzacomputer]

INSANITY (Hellaverse x isekai male reader)

Winners (Part 3):

•Nancy Drew (Nancy Drew)

•Nick Sturniolo (Youtuber/Sturniolo triplets)

•Chris Sturniolo (Youtuber/Sturniolo triplets)

•Matt Sturniolo (Youtuber/Sturniolo triplets)

•Italy (Hetalia)

•Harrier "Harry" Du Bois (Disco Elysium)

•Ian Hecox (Smosh/Youtuber)

•Anthony Padilla (Smosh/Youtuber)

•Jung kook (Bts)

•V (Bts)

•Jimin (Bts)

•Suga (Bts)

•RM (Bts)

•Jin (Bts)

•J-Hope (Bts)

•Paige Bueckers (Paige Bueckers)

•Megan Thee Stallion (vmas)

•Chappell Roan (vmas)

•All the Venezuela's people who died and suffered because of Maduro's tyranny (Venezuela/U)

•The monk (rain world)

•The survivor (rain world)

•The hunter (rain world)

•The watcher (rain world)

•The Gourmand (rain world)

•The Artificer (rain world)

•The Rivulet (rain world)

•The spearmaster (rain world)

•The saint (rain world)

•??? (rain world)

•Leon Kennedy (Resident Evil)

•Marcelyn (Adventure Time)

•Jeremy Heere (Be more chill)

•Alice Dyer (Magnus protocol)

•Phoenix Wright (Ace attorney/Narumitsu)

•Mia Fey (Ace attorney/Narumitsu)

•Miles Edgeworth (Ace attorney/Narumitsu)

•Herlock Sholmes (The great ace attorney)

•Eddie Brock (Venom/Venom the last dance/Symbrock)

•Chell (Portal/Portal 2)

•Jake Seresin (Glen Powell)

•Lewis Hamilton (F1/Formula 1/oscar piastri/Ferrari/Austin gp 2024)

•Charles Leclerc (F1/Formula 1/oscar piastri/Ferrari/Austin gp 2024)

•Franco Colapinto (F1/Formula 1/oscar piastri/Ferrari/Austin gp 2024)

•Carlos Sainz Jr (F1/Formula 1/oscar piastri/Ferrari/Austin gp 2024)

•Yuki Tsunoda (F1/Formula 1/oscar piastri/Ferrari/Austin gp 2024)

•Daniel Ricciardo (F1/Formula 1/oscar piastri/Ferrari/Austin gp 2024)

•Mclaren (F1/Formula 1/oscar piastri/Ferrari/Austin gp 2024)

•George Russel (F1/Formula 1/oscar piastri/Ferrari/Austin gp 2024)

•Marc Marquez (F1/Formula 1/oscar piastri/Ferrari/Austin gp 2024)

•Charles-Haden Savage (Only murders in the building)

•Oliver Putnam (Only murders in the building)

•Mabel Mora (Only murders in the building)

•Madoka Kaname (Madoka Magica/Puella Magi Madoka Magica)

•Wei Wuxian (mdzs/mo dao zu shi)

•Lan Wangji (mdzs/mo dao zu shi)

•Wei Changze (mdzs/mo dao zu shi)

•Cangse Sanren (mdzs/mo dao zu shi)

•Jiang Fengmian (mdzs/mo dao zu shi)

•Jiang Cheng (mdzs/mo dao zu shi)

•Jiang Yanli (mdzs/mo dao zu shi)

•Jin Ling (mdzs/mo dao zu shi)

•Lan Sizhui (mdzs/mo dao zu shi)

•Lan Xichen (mdzs/mo dao zu shi)

•Lan Qiren (mdzs/mo dao zu shi)

•Princess Celestia (my little pony/mlp/mlp fim)

•Princess Luna (my little pony/mlp/mlp fim)

•Twilight Sparkle (my little pony/mlp/mlp fim)

•Applejack (my little pony/mlp/mlp fim)

•Pinkie Pie (my little pony/mlp/mlp fim)

•Fluttershy (my little pony/mlp/mlp fim)

•Rarity (my little pony/mlp/mlp fim)

•Rainbow Dash (my little pony/mlp/mlp fim)

•Hua Cheng (tgcf/Heaven official's Blessing/ghosts)

•The Knight (Hollow Knight)

•Flandre Scarlet (touhou)

•Remilia Scarlet (touhou)

•Sakuya Izayoi (touhou)

•Ruby Rose (rwby)

•Yang Xia Long (rwby)

•Weiss Schnee (rwby)

•Blake Belldonna (rwby)

•Jaune Arc (rwby)

•Pyrrha Nikos (rwby)

•Nora Valkyrie (rwby)

•Lie Ren (rwby)

•Yami Yugi (Yugioh)

•Sonic (Sonic/Sonic the hedgehog/Sth/Sonadow/Sonic x shadow generations)

•Tails (Sonic/Sonic the hedgehog/Sth/Sonadow/Sonic x shadow generations)

•Knuckles (Sonic/Sonic the hedgehog/Sth/Sonadow/Sonic x shadow generations)

•Link (Legend of Zelda/Botw/The Legend of Zelda/Loz/Linked universe/Linkeduniverse)

•Zelda (Legend of Zelda/Botw/The Legend of Zelda/Loz/Linked universe/Linkeduniverse)

•Eddie Munson (Joseph Quinn/Stranger things)

•Wynonna Earp (Wynonna Earp)

•Harry Potter (Harry potter)

•Hermione Granger (Harry potter)

•Ron Weasley (Harry potter)

•Minerva McGranitt (Harry potter/Maggie Smith)

•Rock Lock (Black tumblr/Black lives matter/bnha/My hero academia)

•Shuri (Black tumblr/Black girl magic/Black lives matter/Disney)

•All Might (bnha/My hero academia/boku no hero academia)

•Deku (bnha/My hero academia/boku no hero academia)

•Tahliah Debrett (Fka Twigs)

•Shen Qingqiu (svsss)

•Luo Binghe (svsss)

•Osamu Dazai (bsd/bungou stray dogs)

•Atsushi Nakajima (bsd/bungou stray dogs)

•Chuya Nakahara (bsd/bungou stray dogs)

•Princess peach (Super Mario)

•Pricess Rosalina (Super Mario)

•Princess Daisy (Super Mario)

•Siffrin (In stars and time)

•Odile (In stars and time)

•Homer (The odyssey/Poets on tumblr/Writeblr)

•Alexia Putellas (arsenal/arsenal fc/arsenal wfc/woso/Uswnt)

•ThunderClan (Warrior cats)

•WindClan (Warrior cats)

•ShadowClan (Warrior cats)

•RiverClan (Warrior cats)

•SkyClan (Warrior cats)

•Gerard Way (My Chemical Romance/mcr)

•Mikey Way (My Chemical Romance/mcr)

•Frank Iero (My Chemical Romance/mcr)

•Ray Toro (My Chemical Romance/mcr)

•Bob Bryar (My Chemical Romance/mcr)

•Matt Pelissier (My Chemical Romance/mcr)

•Jarrod Alexander (My Chemical Romance/mcr)

•Pete Parada (My Chemical Romance/mcr)

•James Dewees (My Chemical Romance/mcr)

•Jamie Muhoberac (My Chemical Romance/mcr)

•Rhea Ripley (wwe/aew/nxt/wrestling/fight club/wwe raw/Monday night raw)

•Roman Reigns (wwe/aew/nxt/Wrestling/Fight club/wwe raw/Monday night raw)

•Gordon Freeman (Hlvrai)

•Azi (Scavengers reign)

•Spock (Star Trek/Ds9)

•Hikaru Sulu (Star Trek/Ds9/John Cho)

•Michael Huang (tpot)

•Cary Huang (tpot)

•Satomi Hinatsu (tpot)

•Bae Seok-Ryu (Love next door)

•Kris (Deltarune)

•Professor Hershel Layton (Professor Layton)

•Joy (Pixar)

•Anger (Pixar)

•Sadness (Pixar)

•Fear (Pixar)

•Disgust (Pixar)

•Envy (Pixar)

•Anxiety (Pixar)

•Embarassment (Pixar)

•Ennui (Pixar)

•Miriam (Dragon Age the veilguard/Dragon Age Inquisition/Dragon Age/Dragon Age 4/Da4/Dragon Age 2)

•Roland (Dragon Age the veilguard/Dragon Age Inquisition/Dragon Age/Dragon Age 4/Da4/Dragon Age 2)

•Qwydion (Dragon Age the veilguard/Dragon Age Inquisition/Dragon Age/Dragon Age 4/Da4/Dragon Age 2)

•Lacklon (Dragon Age the veilguard/Dragon Age Inquisition/Dragon Age/Dragon Age 4/Da4/Dragon Age 2)

•Neb (Dragon Age the veilguard/Dragon Age Inquisition/Dragon Age/Dragon Age 4/Da4/Dragon Age 2)

•Ralph (Wreck it Ralph)

•Felix (Wreck it Ralph)

•All the Ukraine's people who died and sufffered beacause of the war (Ukraine)

•Sayori (ddlc)

•Yuri (ddlc)

•Natsuki (ddlc)

•Lottie (Yellowjackets)

•Abraham Van Helsing (Dracula daily)

•Sidney Crosby (Pittsburgh Penguins)

•Mitchell Marner (Toronto Maple Leafs)

•April Ludgate (Aubrey Plaza)

•Commander Shepard (Mass effect)

•Maia (Roblox)

•Marinette (Miraculous Ladybug/ML)

•Adrian (Miraculous Ladybug/ML)

•Sakura (Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle)

•Alex Hirsch (Gravity falls/The book of Bill)

•Niall Horan (One direction/1d)

•Liam Payne (One direction/1d)

•Zayn Malik (One direction/1d)

•Harry Styles (One direction/1d)

•Louis Tomlinson (One direction/1d)

•J.Martin (Motogp)

•Earth Wind and Fire's crew (Earth Wind and Fire/21st of September)

•Tamsyn Muir (Gideon the Ninth)

•Din Djarin (Pedro Pascal)

•Darius Bowman (Jurassic World Chaos Theory/Netflix)

•Brooklynn (Jurassic World Chaos Theory/Netflix)

•Kenji Kon (Jurassic world chaos Theory/Netflix)

•Yasmina Fadoula (Jurassic world Chaos theory/Netflix)

•Ben Pincus (Jurassic world Chaos theory/Netflix)

•Sammy Gutierrez (Jurassic world Chaos theory/Netflix)

•Charlie Spring (Joe Locke/Heartstopper)

•Carolina Hurricanes (Hockey/Nhl)

•Steven (Steven Universe)

•Greg (Steven Universe)

•Connie (Steven Universe)

•Joker (Persona/Persona 5)

•Utena Tenjou (Revolutionary girl utena)

•Fry (Futurama)

•Leela (Futurama)

•Corrine Dollaganger (Flowers in the attic)

•Jin Kamurai (Tokyo Debunker)

•Joel (The last of us)

•Ellie (The last of us)

•Rollo Treadway (Buster Keaton)

•Castiel (My Candy Love)

•Arthur Lester (Malevolent)

•John Lennon (The Beatles)

•Paul McCartney (The Beatles)

•George Harrison (The Beatles)

•Ringo Starr (The Beatles)

•Pete Best (The Beatles)

•Stuart Sutcliffe (The Beatles)

•Jimmy Nicol (The Beatles)

•Chas Newby (The Beatles)

•Norman Chapman (The Beatles)

•Tommy Moore (The Beatles)

•Mal Evans (The Beatles)

•Jennie (Jennie Kim)

•Elsa (Frozen)

•Anna (Frozen)

•Olaf (Frozen)

•Kristoff (Frozen)

•Sven (Frozen)

•YoRHa No.9 Type S (Nier Automata)

•YoHRa No.2 Type B (Nier Automata)

•YoHRa Type A No.2 (Nier Automata)

•Vince Dun (Seattle Kraken)

•Trent Alexander Arnold (Liverpool fc)

•Charlie Watson (Hailee Steinfeld/Transformers/Transformers one/Maccadam)

•Musketeer (CardEvolution)

•Hayden Silas Anhedönia (Ethel Cain)

[spurious]

For the fandom abc ask: x & y please!

A trope you’re certain to love in any fandom: I love love love an idiots to lovers ship, it’s absolutely catnip to me tbh

What are your secondhand fandoms (i.e., fandoms you aren’t in personally but are tangentially familiar with because your friends/people on your dash are in them)?

Gay firefighters, island cops, gay pirates, gomens (I read and loved the book as a teenager but I haven’t been watching the show), generalized Glen Powell enjoyment/top gun maverick, supernatural….theres def more but that’s what’s top of mind right now

[rededgerp]

Some face claims we'd love to see grace our dash are Andrew Garfield, Glen Powell, Ashton Irwin, Miley Cyrus, Demi Lovato, Emma Watson, Henry Golding, Jared Padalecki, Alex Gaskarth, Matt Smith, Max Irons, Robert Pattinson and many more. Come check us out and join us today.