#excited to finally get this out into the world though!

[promptedwordsmith]

LADS guys in the morning

Caleb

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a gentle glow on the room. It was early, the kind of early that still felt like the night had only just let go of its hold. You stirred in the bed, the familiar warmth of Caleb's presence gone, but it wasn’t the absence of him that made you blink awake—it was the little things he always left behind.

The scent of fresh coffee wafted in from the kitchen, mingling with the faint smell of something sweet. Caleb’s careful hand had already prepared breakfast—your favorite pancakes, golden and soft, stacked high on the table with syrup and fresh fruit. The toast was perfectly browned, just the way you liked it. A glass of orange juice stood beside the plate, and a small note was tucked under the edge of your mug.

“Eat up. You’ve got a big day ahead, and you deserve to start it right. I’ll be back soon. – C”

You smiled, feeling a soft warmth spread through you. Caleb had a way of making you feel loved, even when he wasn’t there. It was in the little gestures—the things he did when you weren’t looking. The things that told you more than words could.

He’d also laid out your clothes from the night before—your favorite sweater, jeans, and boots—neatly folded on the chair beside the dresser. It was the kind of thoughtful detail that had become second nature to him. Even when he wasn’t physically present, he made sure your world was as comfortable as possible.

Today, though, was different. Today, Caleb had the rare gift of a day off. It wasn’t often, especially with his responsibilities as a Colonel, but when he did manage to carve out time for himself, he always spent it with you. You didn’t rush to get up this time. Instead, you lingered under the covers, wrapping yourself in the softness of the sheets as you listened to the quiet of the house.

You could hear the subtle sound of him stirring just before you opened your eyes. He was always the first to wake, even when he had nothing pressing to attend to. As you slowly turned toward him, you found Caleb already looking at you, his deep purple eyes soft and tender, a gentle smile curving his lips.

Without a word, he pulled you into his chest, his warmth surrounding you like a protective cocoon. His fingers brushed through your hair, and for a moment, the world outside didn’t matter. In his arms, there was nothing but peace—no Colonel, no responsibilities, just Caleb, quietly loving you in the stillness of the morning.

Rafayel

Mornings with Rafayel were something else entirely. The room would be painted soft golds and pinks from the sky outside, but it wasn’t the sunrise that woke you. It was the quiet rustling of paper, the scratch of a pencil on canvas.

Most mornings, Rafayel was already awake before you, his long, lean form sat up against the headboard, his back slightly arched as he studied you. There was something so serene about the way he observed you while you slept, his purple eyes filled with quiet fascination. His pencil would move swiftly, capturing the curve of your lips, the delicate flutter of your eyelashes as you dreamed.

Sometimes, he’d exaggerate the softness of your expression, emphasizing the way your mouth hung open just the slightest bit, or the way your hair curled around your face. Other times, he’d capture the stillness, the peacefulness of you in your slumber. Each sketch was a reflection of how deeply he saw you, how much he cherished those fleeting, quiet moments when you were unaware of his gaze.

You never seemed to mind when you woke to find his sketchbook open beside him, his focused eyes glimmering with excitement as he waited for you to stir. Sometimes, when you finally blinked awake, he’d stop mid-pencil stroke and reach out for you, pulling you into the warmth of his arms. You’d feel his warmth as he buried his face in your hair, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, as if the morning was simply an extension of his affection.

“Good morning, my muse,” he’d murmur with a lazy smile, his voice thick with sleep. His hands would cradle your face gently, before guiding you to look at what he’d drawn. His eyes were bright with that gleam of expectation, the same one he wore when he’d created something he was proud of.

“Do you like it?” he’d ask eagerly, always seeking your praise. He was always so excited, like a child showing off a new treasure.

You’d smile, tracing the sketch of your sleeping self. “It’s beautiful, Rafayel,” you’d say, meaning it with all your heart.

He’d grin, a little smug but undeniably pleased. “I always capture the best parts of you,” he’d reply, his voice soft but full of pride.

And then, without fail, he’d pull you back into his arms, content to simply hold you there. His mornings were filled with soft gestures, a quiet intimacy, and an overwhelming love that he could never quite put into words—but his sketches said it all.

Sylus

Sylus would, of course, be the kind of man who is already awake by the time you stir, his movements as precise and controlled as everything else in his life. He rises before the sun, not because he must, but because the silence of the early hours gives him the space he craves to think, to plan, and to stay one step ahead. His study, as usual, is a place of order, with books stacked neatly, papers spread out in meticulous arrangements, and the dim glow of a single desk lamp casting a warm light over the room.

Mephisto, ever loyal and ever watchful, is stationed by the door, alert for any shift in your slumber. As soon as you stir, the smallest of movements, Mephisto’s sharp eyes are on you, and in an instant, Sylus is informed. There's no urgency in his steps as he moves toward you, only a quiet confidence as if he’s already planned this out in his mind.

When he finds you awake, bleary-eyed and still wrapped in the soft warmth of sleep, he’s already there—waiting, his hands gentle as they guide you back to a state of comfort. He bundles you in a blanket with a tenderness that few would expect from someone like him, his touch both soft and commanding as he settles you in his lap.

"Rest," he murmurs, his voice low, smooth—too soft for anyone else to hear but just right for you. "You’ve been working hard enough already." He adjusts the blanket around you, pulling it tight so that you can feel nothing but the warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his breath.

Though he's clearly busy with his work, papers and books spread across the desk in front of him, there’s a quiet attentiveness to his actions. He’s accustomed to juggling multiple tasks at once, but now, with you in his lap, the world feels a bit more still.

“Such a lazy morning,” he teases, his fingers brushing the hair from your face. His eyes glint with mischief as he watches you try to fight the sleepiness tugging at your mind. “I should be the one napping, don’t you think?”

Every now and then, he’ll steal a glance down at you, his sharp gaze softening just slightly as he listens to you breathe, the warmth of his hand gently stroking your arm or tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

“You know,” he continues with a wry smile, voice still a teasing whisper, “if you insist on being so adorable, I’ll have to keep you here all day. It would be a shame to let you go back to the world just yet.”

Even in moments like this, when he’s clearly enjoying the quiet of the morning, there’s an air of command in his voice—playful, but still deeply controlling, as though everything, even this, is part of his careful design. The contrast of his calm authority and the tenderness with which he holds you makes it clear that he’s in no hurry to let this peaceful moment end.

Xavier

The early morning light barely creeps from the windows, soft and cool, just enough to cast a faint glow over the room where Xavier stirs beneath the covers. Silver hair tousled, his blue eyes squinting against the early light, Xavier slowly wakes, blinking like he’s not sure if the world around him is real or if he's still trapped in the fog of a dream. His tall frame is partially buried beneath the sheets, and for a moment, he seems so much younger, more vulnerable than he usually does in his usual, mysterious Lightseeker uniform.

You smile to yourself, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you quietly slip out of bed. The bed is warm from the shared comfort of the night, and for a second, you pause to glance at him. His usual calm demeanor is almost absent this morning—he’s just a groggy, sleepy version of the man you know, the one who would casually step into a battle against Wanderers and come out without a scratch. Yet here, in your space, he seems so much more human.

Xavier's eyes follow you as you get up, still too tired to make a move but enough to watch you. “Morning,” he murmurs, his voice rough from sleep, like the words are coming from somewhere deep inside, half-asleep and disoriented.

"Morning, sleepyhead," you tease lightly, but he doesn’t even attempt to push himself up. Instead, he just watches you, his gaze soft but filled with that ever-present curiosity, that hunger for knowledge—the kind that always makes him so intent on understanding you, even in the quietest of moments.

Despite the fact that he’s clearly still too tired to function properly, Xavier pulls himself up when you do, following you with an almost submissive air, like he's too comfortable to not move with you. It’s such a gentle, rare thing to witness in him, the man who always carries a burden heavier than most can even fathom. His silver hair, tousled and messy from sleep, contrasts with the light, soft fabric of his white sweater, giving him an almost ethereal, boyish charm in these quiet mornings.

You head to the kitchen, and without missing a beat, he lumbers after you, his long limbs sluggishly following your movements. His big armored gloves are nowhere to be seen, of course—he’s not in his Lightseeker uniform—but there's something about the absence of his usual intensity that makes him even more approachable.

He watches with barely contained interest as you move around, setting the coffee to brew and preparing some pancakes. He leans against the doorway, eyes still half-closed. “I’ll cook,” he says lazily, but you can tell by the way his voice drifts off that he’s not awake enough to do much of anything.

“Mm, no, Xavier,” you say with a laugh, nudging him back. “You’re way too sleepy. Go get ready. I’ll make breakfast.”

He gives a half-hearted sigh and turns toward the bathroom, shuffling with slow, uncertain steps. He moves like a person still tangled in his own dreams, like the weight of the world has yet to catch up with him this morning.

The sound of the shower runs as you prepare the pancakes, the soft scent of cinnamon drifting through the air. It’s simple, but in these moments, you both share something more than words could express—a rare quiet that only deepens the connection between you.

When he returns, freshly showered and looking like he’s been reborn, he crosses the room with that natural, quiet grace of his, now wide awake and looking as close to perfect as he ever does. There’s an elegance to the way he moves, even in something as mundane as getting ready for work, a hint of old-world nobility that you find hard to ignore.

The pancakes are ready, steaming and golden brown, and you hand him a plate. His blue eyes meet yours, still warm and soft but hinting at something more. “Thank you.”

You just smile, nudging him gently. “You’re welcome. Now, let’s get ready for the day.”

You both slip into the rhythm of preparing for work—two different lives interwoven in a moment of quiet normalcy. The contrast between Xavier’s world of danger and the soft simplicity of your mornings together always catches you off guard, but somehow, you’re learning to treasure it.

And as you move through the motions of the day, whether it’s grabbing coffee or quickly packing your bag for work, you’re already looking forward to the next moment you’ll get to share with him—however simple or mundane it may be. It’s those quiet, everyday moments that make you feel like, despite everything, you’ve found something worth holding onto.

Zayne

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a gentle glow across the room. Zayne’s alarm had gone off—right on time, as it always did—but he stirred only slightly, his brow furrowing slightly before he reluctantly pulled himself awake. He was a light sleeper, and mornings were often a quiet struggle for him, though he tried his best not to show it. He reached over and turned off the alarm, the small action marking the start of his daily routine.

Though you were still wrapped in the warmth of your blankets, you could hear the quiet rustling of his movements, his footsteps soft on the hardwood floor. Zayne, ever the early riser, always took his time in the mornings, careful and deliberate in the rituals he’d perfected over the years.

By the time you finally rolled out of bed, still half-dreaming, you found him in the kitchen. The faint scent of jasmine filled the air as he brewed the tea, its delicate fragrance wafting through the room and wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. He turned as you entered, offering a small, but knowing smile.

“Good morning,” he murmured, his voice clearer after drinking some of the tea. He handed you the steaming cup of tea, his eyes warm but steady. “Doctor’s orders,” he said with a teasing glint, knowing full well that his gentle insistence was more of a care than a command.

You took the cup, savoring the warmth as you sat down at the kitchen table. Zayne began to move with quiet purpose, grabbing his things from one room to the next. The soft sound of his footsteps was familiar, grounding. First his jacket from the hallway, then his watch from the bedroom, and finally his stethoscope from the counter.

As you brushed your teeth together, the sound of the water running and the occasional soft hum of conversation filled the space between you. His words were thoughtful and calm as always, asking how you slept, commenting on the weather, or offering little pieces of advice about your day. His routines were steady, predictable, and somehow comforting.

Eventually, he stood by the door, ready to go. His eyes softened as he leaned in to press a quick kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll see you later,” he whispered, his voice low and warm.

You nodded, a sleepy smile tugging at your lips as he turned to leave. You watched him disappear down the hallway, and as the front door closed behind him, you made your way back to bed, the scent of jasmine lingering in the air—a reminder of the soft start to your morning, and the quiet love that filled it.

[archangeldyke-all]

Hear me out hear me out...reader with a prosthetic leg that's like sevikas arm and it legit love at first sight bro trust!!

VERY cute omg

men and minors dni

your grandmother would try to kill you if she saw the way you're sitting right now. not only are you manspreading; you've got one leg thrown up onto the wood table in front of you as you sip on your beer.

"do you want me to take my boot off?" you offer, cringing as the dirt caked to your boots starts to dust onto the table top.

the little girl laying on the table shakes her head no. she's lost in her own world, her legs kicking in the air behind her as she doodles all over the smooth metal surface of your leg.

you stopped in the last drop for a quick drink-- but upon entering, the little girl sitting bored at the bar had gasped and ran over to you, gushing to you about your leg and begging to look at it up close. you had laughed and shrugged, bought yourself a pitcher of beer and settled in for a long night.

you've always been a sucker for little kids.

so when she asked if she could give you 'tattoos'-- pulling out a box of oil crayons from the pouch in her overalls, you'd just laughed, ruffled her bangs, and let her at it.

"this the first mech prosthetic you've ever seen?" you ask.

the girl shakes her head no. "silco has a creepy orange eyeball. and sevika's got her arm. yours is way cooler than theirs, though. less menacing."

you snort, wondering how a prosthetic could possibly be menacing. "who are you, anyways?" you ask.

"jinx!" a voice shouts. you both look up to the top of the stairs. a beautiful, angry, cloaked woman storms down the stairs, glaring at jinx, apparently. the little girl just giggles guiltily, like a kid with her hand in the cookie jar. "fuck're you doing down here? you know you aren't allowed in the bar during open hours. get upstairs before i drag you up by your stupid little braid."

"geez, relax, sevika. i was just checkin' out this beauty!" she exclaims, knocking on your metal knee. you laugh.

"she's no bother."

the woman's eyes dart over to you, and you watch in fascination as her eyes grow wide. "th-that's your leg?" she asks.

you sputter, and jinx bursts into laughter beside you.

"it's attached to her isn't it?!" jinx teases. sevika huffs and flicks jinx's forehead, before reaching up and fumbling with the collar of her poncho.

"no-- i mean--" finally, she finds the seam, and her cloak comes off in one clean swoop. you gawk as a beautiful, sophisticated, and indeed, slightly menacing mech arm is revealed to you.

"oh, janna, look at that!" you gasp, standing from your chair to grab the woman's arm. you twist and turn it in your hold, gawking at the incredibly intricate design and function, running your fingers over the sharp claws of her finger tips-- it isn't until jinx gives an annoyed grunt that you snap out of your trance and take a step away from the woman you've practically ambushed.

only, sevika takes a step forward when you do, shoving her arm back in your grasp. you blink up at her, your stomach somersaulting when you meet her beautiful, twinkling silver. "did you make yours?" sevika asks, a little breathless.

you grin. "sorta. i got a cousin who did most of it. i handed her screwdrivers and stuff. did you?"

"y-yeah." she admits.

jinx scoffs. "oh, please. all the cool features are from me or singed. i was the one who told you to add the machete--

"machete!?" you gasp, your excitement growing.

"-- and singed did the shimmer injecti-- mph!" jinx is muffled by sevika's flesh hand.

"d-do you ever go to marty's mech--

"--repair shop?!" sevika finishes for you.

marty's the only man in the whole city who makes bio-chargeable parts.

you burst into laughter.

sevika smiles at you, a gorgeous little gap in her teeth revealing itself, and then she gasps and wretches her hand away from jinx. "you fucker, you bit me!"

"it's torture to force me to watch you two flirt. certifiable torture. peg-leg; come find me when you're finished giggling with general dingus over here. i'm not done with the drawing yet." jinx huffs and walks away.

you laugh as jinx marches off, then quickly wipe off the dirt covered table you were sitting at. "d-do you wanna have a beer with me? i gotta finish this pitcher..." you gesture to your table awkwardly.

sevika grins. "can't let good beer go to waste, can we?" she asks, settling down in a chair. you giggle with excitement as you sit beside her, and then you nearly explode when she pulls your mech leg up into her lap.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @vkumi @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion @dancingqu33n17 @losernb @p1nkearth

taglist!!

@sevikas-baby @ghostscandys @sevikasllver @runawaybaby3

[bootsukki]

the first time tsukki buys you flowers, it’s almost by accident.

he’s on his way to your house after practice, passing by a small flower shop, when a bouquet of soft yellow tulips catches his eye. he has no idea why he stops to look at them—maybe it’s the way they remind him of you, always bright and warm. checking his wallet, he enters the shop and buys them.

truth be told, he doesn’t expect much of a reaction from you, you have been dating for four months and he doesn’t even know if you like flowers (he knows you’re not allergic though because you always tend to the school garden with one of your friends) and when he arrives, he just shoves them into your arms.

but, when your eyes widen in delight, your fingers tighten around the stems and you look at him like he’s just handed you the stars, he knows he’s fucked.

you cling to his arm all the afternoon, giggling every time you look at the flowers and kissing him endlessly, he feels his cheeks burning.

“I should have just brought you candy.” he mutters, pretending to be annoyed.

but he does it again. and again. and again.

sometimes, he starts picking up flowers on random days—after practice, when he sees sales on his konbini… you react the same way, eyes bright, arms thrown around him, pressing kisses to his face. he mumbles under his breath but he never pulls away from your hugs and precious kisses he cherishes so much.

he continues doing so when you go to tokyo to study and he stays in sendai. every two weeks, without fail, a bouquet arrives at your doorstep, always with a note scrawled in his familiar and neat handwriting, “try not to kill these before i visit you, pretty.”

and when he sees you again, you throw yourself at him in the middle of the train station and, like always, he lets you. because he’s missed this and you.

even after college, the flowers never stop.

the day he thinks about proposing, he goes back to your old text messages, finding your messages and pictures about every single bouquet he has given you and asks for a special bouquet filled with one of every single important bouquet he has given you, from the tulips to the roses he gave you last anniversary.

as he hands you the bouquet and goes down on one knee, you tear up and nod, hands shaking as he puts the ring on your finger and he knows he made the right choice by choosing you.

the morning of your wedding is a blur of soft laughter and excitement as you sit down on the chair to start getting your makeup and hair done.

but before they can start, yachi clears her throat, drawing your attention.

“i have something for you.”

yachi grins, stepping aside to reveal the most beautiful bouquet resting in one of the vanities.

you gasp—the bouquet is a masterpiece filled with pastel calla lillies, clemantis, veronicas and slipper orchids. you stand up, reaching out for the flowers, brushing over the beautiful petals. and then, you see your name written in his familiar handwriting in an envelope.

baby,

i’d like to say that i planned all of this from the beginning, that the first time i bought you flowers, i already knew i would be doing it for the rest of my life, but the truth is that i didn’t realize until i saw your beautiful eyes and gorgeous smile when you saw the yellow tulips.

i love your smile and i wanted to see you smile. you looked at me like i had given you the world and you held to them like you never wanted to let go.

so, i kept bringing them every chance i had. do you remember how sad you were when the wind ruined the bouquet i gave you during your last finals weeks? i got so mad and sad that i ran to the store at nearly 2 am to buy you some and get them sent to you the following day.

i am not good with words, you know that so i guess that i found everything that i wanted to say through flowers: i miss you, you’re the best thing that has happened to me, i love you, i want to spend the rest of my life with you…

i think that this one is the most special one. do you remember all those late night work i had to do? i lied, sorry.

i was getting special lessons from the florist down the street: how to prepare a bouquet, how to cut the stems perfectly so they last longer, how to take care of them… all of that so i could get you what i think it is the prettiest bouquet of all the ones i have gotten you although i don’t think they are as beautiful as you are but i have selected them because their delicate colors and smoothness makes me think of you and i don’t know, i wanted to remind you that you are always on my mind.

holy shit, you and me forever. FOREVERRRRRRRRR (if you see tear marks while you read this, those are NOT mine).

i love you baby, i’ll wait for you at the end of the aisle so, take a deep breath, wipe those tears (I know you are probably crying) and see you soon. can’t wait to make you my wife.

-kei.

you clutch the letter to your chest as tears spill freely onto your cheeks and your friends laugh softly, cleaning their own tears as well.

“is it too late to use this as my wedding bouquet?”

[cutielando]

surprise | drew starkey

synopsis: in which Drew surprises you at one of your races

a/n: based on this request!

my masterlist

"I miss you" you whispered into the phone, your eyes stuck on the hotel room ceiling.

"I miss you too, darling" Drew's voice echoed through the phone, bringing a sad smile to your face.

The room was silent, the buzz of the track long gone as the late hours of the night rolled around.

The city lights of Abu Dhabi illuminated your dark room, casting a cold glow over your body.

The final race of the season was finally there, and you were so excited to finally finish the season on a high.

But still, something wasn't quite right.

Drew wasn't there with you.

He had to do some interviews for his new movie, "Queer", and couldn't attend the race. But even though you understood the demands of his job, you couldn't help the sadness that settled in the pit of your stomach.

"I wish you were here with me" you said, absentmindedly playing with the necklace he had given you for your 2 year anniversary.

Drew sighed, missing you just as much as you were missing him.

But slightly less, because he had booked a flight to come and see you as early as tomorrow, right before the race started.

"I know, I wish I was there with you to watch you be crowned World Champion" he said, teasing you a little with a smile on his face.

You laughed, knowing he was right.

After an amazing season, filled with multiple victories and even more podiums, you would finally be crowned World Champion after tomorrow's race.

Drew knew very well that becoming World Champion had been your dream ever since you were a little girl. It was precisely the reason why he had decided to reschedule his interviews and fly out to be with you during this moment in your career.

He couldn't wait to see the look on your face when you'd see him.

"Isn't it late over there?" Drew asked, after a few seconds in which neither of you said anything.

You looked over at the clock on your bedside table, the numbers illuminating 2:32 am.

"Yeah, it's half past 2 in the morning" you said, the tiredness of the full day slowly starting to catch up to you.

Drew huffed, knowing that you have to get some rest for tomorrow.

"You should get some rest, love. You need to be focused for tomorrow" he said, his voice soft.

You sighed, knowing he was probably right, but at the same time, you didn't want to hang up.

You wanted to keep talking to him, no matter what.

"But we barely had time to talk today" you said, your voice small.

Drew knew how sad you were, but he also knew you needed an incentive to actually start thinking about you and the race ahead.

He sighed, a smile tugging at his lips as he stood in the airport first-class bathroom, hoping you wouldn't pick up on the chatter outside the doors and realize he wasn't home where he was supposed to be.

"I know, and I'm sorry. But you know how it is, we're both busy right now. We'll see each other when you get back, and we'll make up for lost time. But you need to focus on tomorrow so you can show everyone just how amazing you are and win this championship" he said, his heart squeezing at the fact that he's going to see you soon enough.

You groaned, burying your face into your pillow.

Despite not wanting to admit it, you knew he was right. The tiredness from the day was catching up with you, your eyelids now heavy and your limbs sore.

"Okay. You're right. Talk in the morning?" you asked, your voice tired, but hopeful.

Drew chuckled, which warmed your heart and made it long with desire to see him soon.

"Yeah, text me when you wake up. I love you, good luck tomorrow" he said, his voice warm.

"I love you too" you said, your voice drowsy.

Drew smiled as he waited on the phone for a couple more minutes, listening to your breathing get slower and slower until he was sure you had fallen asleep.

He whispered a quiet 'I'll see you tomorrow' and blew you a kiss before he finally hung up, stuffing his phone in his pocket as he went back to the main lounge, counting down the minutes until his flight would take off and he would be a step closer to getting to Abu Dhabi.

A step closer to seeing you.

♡♡♡♡♡

Morning rolled around, your alarm blaring throughout the spacious hotel room.

You groaned as you stretched your arm and blindly tried to find your phone, desperate to get a little more sleep.

“Where the fuck is it” you grumbled under your breath, lifting your head to search for your phone through bleary and sleepy eyes.

Once you finally got a hold of your phone, you immediately disabled your alarm, falling backwards against the pillows once again.

You were tired, your limbs felt heavy, your eyelids were refusing to stay open for more than a couple of seconds at a time.

Maybe staying up late to talk to Drew wasn't your brightest idea, especially before a big race like Abu Dhabi.

After spending a couple of more minutes with your eyes closed, you finally decided to get up and start the day.

Grabbing your phone from the nightstand, you unlocked it and quickly texted Drew a good morning text.

You frowned a little when there was no reply from him, seeing as he usually always responded to you as quickly as he could.

Shrugging it off, you slowly got ready and met up with your personal trainer to make your way to the track.

Still frowning because Drew hasn’t texted you at all.

"Have you heard from Drew today? I texted him this morning but he hasn't replied to any of my texts" you asked Lizzie, your personal assistant.

Lizzie stilled for a moment, but quickly recovered and shook her head, giving you a sympathetic smile.

Unbeknownst to you, she knew about Drew's plans to surprise you, and knew he was currently on a flight to Abu Dhabi.

"No, sorry. I'm sure he's just caught up with interviews and doesn't have his phone on him" she said, at which you nodded.

Maybe she was right.

Or maybe she was downright lying and he was currently minutes away from landing in Dubai.

Only time will tell.

♡♡♡♡♡

"You're due in the car in 15 minutes" Lizzie announced as she stuck her head in your driver's room.

You smiled at her and thanked her, turning your attention back to your phone. You sighed, opening the iMessage app for what felt like the thousandth time in the past hour.

Drew still hadn't texted you, which was really nothing like him to not be in touch for so long.

What if something had happened to him? What if he got into an accident or something? What if he needed your help and you had no idea where he was?

Dozens of dark thoughts were clouding your mind, each more somber and dangerous than the previous one.

Where was he? Why wasn’t he answering you?

Your fingers were hovering over your keyboard once again, thinking about sending Drew just one more text before you really started freaking the fuck out.

But just as you were about to start typing out a message, there was a soft knock on the door.

"Yes?" you called out, your eyes fixated on the door.

There was no answer, but the door slowly started to open.

And then, your whole demeanor perked up instantly. There, standing in the doorway of your driver's room, in Abu Dhabi, was Drew in the flesh.

He sported a wide smile as he stood there, a huge bouquet of your favorite flowers clutched in his arms.

Tears started welling up in your eyes as your eyes found his, looking at you with so much love and longing for all the weeks you had spent apart until now.

"Please tell me I'm not dreaming right now" you said, your bottom lip trembling and your voice croaked with emotion.

Drew smiled and hung his head low, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.

"I'm here, baby" his husky voice filled the small room, and that was it for you.

You quickly stood up and practically launched yourself in his arms, your head filled with nothing but love and gratitude for the man standing right in front of you.

Your head was buried in the crook of his neck, and you were inhaling his scent, that scent that could make you weak in the knees in no more than a second.

His arms were holding onto you tightly, the flower bouquet now completely forgotten about laying on the floor next to your little sofa.

"I missed you so much" you whispered, squeezing your eyes and letting the tears fall on his shoulder.

"Shh, I'm here now" he cooed, cradling the back of your head with his big hand.

The feeling couldn't be put into words, no matter how hard you would try. You had missed him so much, missed having him close to you, missed sleeping beside him every single night, missed his kisses and his lingering soft touches.

You had missed everything about him.

"I hope you know you're in trouble for not answering my texts all day and making me worried sick about you" you mumbled, your voice muffled by the collar of his jacket.

Drew laughed, his chest rumbling against yours.

"I know, I'm sorry" he said, kissing a spot beneath your ear, which had his breath tickling the side of your exposed neck.

You didn't even care that you had to be in the car in now probably less than 5 minutes.

The car could wait.

You were too focused on Drew to care about anything else.

But another knock on the door seemed to want to ruin your plans completely.

"Who is it?" you called out, still holding onto Drew tightly, not ever wanting to let him go.

"It's me" Lizzie called out from outside your room. "I'm sorry to break you guys up, but we need you in the car, the race is starting in 10 minutes" she said, which made you internally groan.

For a split second, it had felt like the race could be forgotten. That you could just skip everything you had to do that day now that Drew was with you.

But reality was knocking on your door (in the form of Lizzie) and telling you that it didn't quite work like that.

You still had a championship to win.

"Go, I'll be in the garage cheering you on" Drew said, pecking your cheek before slowly unwrapping his arms from your waist.

"Thank you for coming here. I love you" you said, taking his hand in your hands and pressing your lips against his.

The kiss told him everything that you couldn't put into words. How much you had missed him, how much you loved him and how grateful you were that he was there with you.

"I love you too. Now go, before your engineers have my head for making you late" he said as soon as you pulled away, giving your ass a small pat as he shooed you out of the room.

You smiled cheekily at him and took your helmet, pecking his lips one more time before you followed Lizzie to your car.

Let the show begin, you thought.

♡♡♡♡♡

You didn’t even remember how you had managed to finish the race due to the tears that had been streaming down your face from the final 5 laps of the race.

And then when you finally crossed the finish line in first place, you couldn’t remember ever feeling so happy and emotional because of a race ever before.

Adrenaline was coursing through your veins as the reality of being world champion started to settle in your mind, but your mind was focused on one thing and one thing only.

Seeing Drew.

As soon as you parked the car in front of the “1st place” sign, you jumped up and ran straight to him, waiting for you with your team at the barriers.

You scrambled to get out of the car as soon as you possibly could, desperate to throw yourself in his arms and finally let your emotions run wild.

"Drew!" you yelled out as soon as you got out of the car, abandoning your helmet and balaclava somewhere on the floor.

You broke out into a run, ignoring every single camera or reporter that had been waiting for you.

Drew smiled and jumped over the barriers, outstretching his arms just at the right time as you crashed into him, your hands wrapping tightly around his neck and your head resting on his shoulder.

“I’m so proud of you” he whispered into your ear, kissing your cheek and cradling the back of your head.

You chuckled and closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of being with Drew after you had just achieved the biggest milestone of your career.

“Thank you for being my lucky charm” you said quietly, squeezing him a tad tighter than before.

Drew smiled and pulled away from the hug, cupping your face in his hands and crashing his lips against yours.

It was a messy kiss, very rushed and sweaty, but neither of you really cared at that point. Just being with each other was enough in that moment, nothing else mattered except the two of you in the middle of the busy post-race paddock.

And with flashes going off all around you, you let yourself be carried away by your boyfriend, basking in the glory of having just made history.

And having Drew by your side while doing it.

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[sirhamburrger]

worth it - m. kaiser x f!reader in which you decide to give it another shot with with each other.

tags/cw: exes to lovers, crack (see original req ask) || wc: 1k-ish (i have gone insane)

courtesy of kai’s cat café! - 150 followers event café menu || order progress asks closed.

michael kaiser is convinced his life is 100% a joke. there’s no other explanation for why he’s currently sitting in a dimly lit, overpriced restaurant, waiting for a blind date that his best friend, ness, had insisted he go on.

it'll be fun, ness had said. you haven't dated since her, so just give it a shot.

michael doesn’t do blind dates, doesn’t do serious relationships, and he certainly doesn’t do surprises - which is precisely why he’d refused ness’s ridiculous proposition at first. but between his friend’s relentless nagging and his own begrudging admission that his love life had the excitement of a damp sock, he had caved eventually.

and now, as he swirls the wine in his glass like some kind of brooding movie villain, he wonders if this is the universe’s idea of a cruel prank.

because the person who just walked through the restaurant doors - the person he's meant to be on a blind date with - is none other than you.

michael nearly chokes on his drink at the first glimpse he gets of you. you don’t see him at first, distracted as you scan the restaurant, looking for whoever your own meddling friend had set you up with. when your eyes land on him, your entire body stiffens, and he watches as you cycle through the five stages of grief in record time.

he knows exactly what you're thinking, because he’s thinking the exact same -

out of all the people in the world, why you?

your relationship had ended on less-than-great terms. there had been yelling, multiple dramatic exits and even more dramatic re-entrances, and at one point, if he recalls correctly, a very unnecessary but satisfyingly cinematic slow clap. it had been over a year since the breakup, and though time was supposed to heal all wounds, he wasn’t sure if it applied to two people as ridiculously petty as the both of you.

you take a deep breath and approach the table, walking like someone being led to their inevitable doom. “this is a joke, right?” you say, pulling out the chair with a familiar enthusiasm - the enthusiasm with which one might do the dishes, maybe.

michael leans back in his chair, trying to appear nonchalant even though he’s nothing but. you look good, infuriatingly so.

“trust me, if i were trying to pull a prank, it’d be something a lot more elaborate than this.”

you sigh, shoulders slumping. “so, what? our friends thought it would be hilarious to set us up?”

“looks that way.”

silence stretches between you, heavy with the weight of tense, withering stares and poor life choices, and michael, for all his arrogance, finds himself at a rare loss for words. he should say something clever, maybe. something that would put him back in control of this bizarre situation. instead, he blurts out, “you look... less mad than i expected.”

you blink. “i just got here. give it a minute.”

a beat of silence. then, against all odds, you both snort at the same time.

somehow, you make it through the meal without either of you throwing your drinks in the other’s face. the conversation starts awkward, progresses to dangerous levels of sarcastic, and before long, you’re both swapping old inside jokes, complete with exaggerated impressions of each other. by the time dessert arrives, you’re laughing so hard you nearly snort crème brûlée out of your nose.

reality seems to hit the two of you, then, turning the sweetness of the custard bitter on your tongues.

you poke at your half-eaten dessert with your fork, your voice quieter when you finally speak again.

“do you ever wonder if we could’ve done things differently?”

he pauses, fork halfway to his mouth. he should brush it off, throw out some cocky remark. but instead, he casts his pride aside, sets his fork down and meets your gaze.

“yeah,” he admits. “i do.”

you nod as if you expected that answer. “at least we know our friends are absolutely useless.”

he scoffs. “truly the worst.”

the check arrives, and the night reaches its fated conclusion. you both step outside, the cool air nipping at your skin. for a moment, neither of you move, standing there like two characters in a sitcom finale that never got renewed.

finally, you exhale, pulling your coat tighter. “well. goodbye, kaiser.”

something in his chest tightens at the way you say it. he forces a smirk, shoving his hands into his pockets. “see you around, liebling.”

you roll your eyes at the old pet name but don’t comment. instead, you turn and walk away, down the block. the night seems to swallow you up in seconds.

he watches you go, exhaling. he should turn around and walk the other way. should go home, pretend this night never happened.

but then, just as you reach the corner, you stop.

you hesitate.

and then, as if it takes every ounce of courage you have, you turn back around.

“kaiser.”

he’s already moving before you say anything else, crossing the distance between you with the same reckless abandon he’s always had. you open your mouth, maybe to say something witty, maybe to say nothing at all, but he doesn’t give you the chance.

because before he can overthink it, before either of you can change your minds, he cups your face in his hands and kisses you.

it’s not perfect. it’s a little clumsy, and more a little desperate. but when you kiss him back, fingers tangling in the fabric of his jacket, he swears it might be the best decision he’s made in a long, long time. and when you finally pull away, breathless and a little stunned, you stare at him like you can’t quite believe what just happened.

michael grins, cocky and familiar and maybe just a little hopeful.

“so,” he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “think our friends would find it hilarious if we gave this another shot?”

you laugh, shaking your head. “they’d be insufferable.”

he hums, tilting his head. “worth it, though?”

you pretend to consider it, but you both already know the answer.

“yeah,” you whisper, smiling giddily. “worth it.”

bllk masterlist || general masterlist © sirhamburrger 2025

[lovelyjj]

I have a Rudy request. It’s fluffy, not smutty. The reader is a famous singer and she’s dating Rudy. She has a YouTube channel. One day, she makes a YouTube video of her reading thirst tweets people made about her and Rudy is in the video with her and he’s laughing the whole time.

Thirst Tweets

Rudy Pankow x Reader

The story of how you and Rudy met was cute really. You were both on a plane. You were traveling because you were on tour as a singer. Rudy was traveling for work as he was an actor on the show Outer Banks. You just so happen to sit next to each other on the plane.

Rudy listened to your music so he knew who you were. He always thought you were gorgeous but he figured you were out of his league. You had the window seat and then Rudy sat next to you. Rudy decided he wanted to get to know you so even though he was a little nervous, he went for it.

“Hey, you’re Y/N Y/L/N, right? The famous singer?” Rudy started.

“Oh hi, yeah I am, nice to meet you,” you turned towards him

“I’m Rudy, Rudy Pankow.”

“Hi why are you going to Charleston?” you tried to make good conversation.

“Oh I’m shooting my TV show there. I’m an actor,” Rudy scratched the back of his neck.

“Wow what TV show is it may I ask?”

“It’s called Outer Banks.”

“I’ll have to watch it then,” you winked.

The rest of the conversation flowed naturally. You both had a great flight talking to and getting to know each other. When the flight was over you exchanged numbers and started texting about when you can see each other again. Both your schedules were busy but you made time for one another.

Eventually Rudy asked you out and you’ve been dating ever since. Rudy went to a couple of your shows and you went on the set of outer banks to see them filming in action. You’ve never felt this way with anyone before the way you feel with Rudy. It was like you were destined to be together.

You and Rudy were always doing fun things. You were both nervous to tell the world you were dating, well because, you were both famous. But your fans took it really well. The internet loved you when you finally made it public. It was a big step.

“Ya know I think it’s finally time I introduce you to my youtube channel,” you told Rudy in the living room of your shared apartment.

“You think so?” Rudy responded.

“Yeah my manager sent me an idea. She suggested I read thirst tweets.”

“Thirst tweets? I’d be down to be in it, sounds fun,” Rudy commented.

“Ok let’s do it.”

Your manager sent you a list of thirst tweets so all you had to do was read them. You set up your camera in the living room and Rudy got comfortable. “I’m excited,” you announced.

“This is gonna be fun,” Rudy exclaimed.

You made sure you and Rudy were in frame and hit record. You sat down next to Rudy and pulled out your phone. “Hi guys I’m Y/N and this is my boyfriend Rudy Pankow.” Rudy waved and said hello.

“Today I’m gonna be reading your thirst tweets.”

“Okay first one. Y/N Y/L/N is so fine she can run me over with a truck.” You laughed.

Rudy glanced at the tweet over your shoulder and snickered.

“Thank you I think,” you giggled.

“I mean they are right,” Rudy commented.

“Next this one says I want to get railed by Y/N.”

Rudy laughed loudly. “I don’t know how that would work but okay,” you shrugged.

“This one has a picture of me and it says “raw, next question.”

Rudy busted out laughing. “That one is my favorite so far,” Rudy admitted.

“Okay okay here’s another one, Can we talk about how gorgeous Y/N Y/L/N is? She is fucking beautiful.”

“I agree,” Rudy commented.

“Want Y/N Y/L/N to spit in my mouth!” you read the tweet.

“Oh god,” Rudy laughed.

“Alright let’s keep going. Y/N Y/L/N is mother,” you read another.

“Mother?” Rudy questioned with a laugh.

“I’m flattered,” you smiled.

“Y/N Y/L/N makes me go feral,” you kept reading tweets.

“Feral? like a wild animal?” Rudy chuckled.

“I guess.”

“Y/N Y/L/N was my biggest sexual awakening,” you looked at your phone.

“Again I’m flattered.”

“I’m a SLUT for Y/N,” you read another tweet.

“I want Y/N Y/L/N to [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] me so hard that I [redacted] [redacted] [redacted].”

“Wait let me see,” Rudy looked at your phone.

“That’s so funny,” Rudy laughed.

“I would rail the shit out of Y/N.”

“Me too oh wait I already do,” Rudy whispered.

“Rudy!”

“Ok ok next one says “Y/N Y/L/N can punch me in the face and i’d say thank you.”

“Oh my,” Rudy giggled.

“making out with Y/N would fix me,” you read.

“Let me tell you it’s amazing,” Rudy spoke.

“Thanks,” you laughed.

“On my knees for Y/N!”

“Interesting,” you raise your eyebrows.

“Well that was fun, thank you everyone for your support I’ll see you in the next one.”

“Bye guys!” Rudy waved goodbye.

You got up and turned off the camera. “You know I’m so lucky to have you,” Rudy told you.

“Aww,” you cooed and gave Rudy a kiss on his lips.

Rudy was your person. The two of you were perfect together. You knew you were gonna be together for a long time. You both supported each other in everything you do. Rudy was your soulmate and you were his.

[hoonieyun]

question and answer

welcome to, "is he mr. right?", the dating game! where a lucky girl who is looking for love has the opportunity to go on a date with four handsome and eager bachelor's who are also looking for love.

this is an interactive dating show au where the readers can vote on "yn's" decisions, ultimately leading to who she will be with at the end... but more on that later!

heeseung 𐐪♡𐑂 jongseong 𐐪♡𐑂 jaeyun 𐐪♡𐑂 sunghoon

warnings: not much! lmk if i need to add smth though! 18+ not proofread.. hehe!

wc: 3631

episode two: question and answer

the reception you received from the first episode was very kind. you didn’t expect so many people to like your personality and to root for you to find love. you were scrolling on social media and looking at the comments about you from the first episode, people were posting clips from the show and screenshots of their favorite moments. 

“yn is so pretty. how is she single??”

“yn if you don’t find your mr. right, i will be mr. right for you.” 

“does yn like girls… by any chance?” 

you laughed as you read some of the comments, grateful that people were so kind and complimentive towards you. you’re waiting for filming to start as you sit in your makeup chair, the hair and makeup stylist doing their part to make you look tv show ready. they had provided you with several outfits to choose from and although they were all very pretty, you decided to choose the blue outfit as it seemed to be the most comfortable to wear for long hours on end. 

they had done your hair the same way as the first time and kept your makeup simple, just the way you liked it. you had gotten pretty close with the stylists because they were taking care of you and it felt nice to have other women on your side as you tried to navigate the world of tv dating shows. 

“yn, 5 minutes until we start filming. we need you in your spot.” one of the PAs says as he pops into your dressing room with a knock. you give him a nod before the stylist does their final touches and wish you good luck. you thank them with a small hug and follow the PA to your spot so that filming could begin. 

you weren’t necessarily nervous anymore to film after how great the first episode went and how nice everyone has been to you online. you were also excited to get to know the bachelor’s of the show as you hadn’t learned anything about them from the previous episode. you weren’t allowed to watch the episode so everything you saw last night was only provided to you by the show’s production team. they took your personal phone and provided you with one from the show, it only had a few things on there where you could only see content about what people are saying surrounding you that the show picked out for you to see and document your personal thoughts for the show’s behind the scenes. 

there seemed to be so much more that went into filming a show and you were grateful to just be on the other side of the camera where you didn’t have to think much about the logisitcs that went into making a whole tv show. 

you can hear the love guru doing her usual routine of getting the crowd hyped up for the episode and setting up the structure for the second episode. she explains that this episode would be focused on the question and answer where you would have the chance to ask the bachelor’s questions to learn more about them. 

the production team had given you a list of questions to ask the boys and from that you chose a certain amounto of questions that you would have to give to production so they can build the storytelling of the episode around those questions. 

before you knew it, you were once again being announced by the host but this time you would be walking down the stairwell they had built for the set that was in the center of the stage. you smiled brightly and waved towards the audience as you walked down the stairs and made your way towards the love guru, a stool waiting for you to take a seat on. 

“hi, yn! how is our little dove doing?” she asks and you tell her you were excited and so happy to be there. the love guru briefly touches on what happened in the last episode and even brings up all of the positivity you’ve been receiving online. 

“from what i’ve seen, everyone has been really nice to me! so shout out to production for only showing me the nice comments and keeping the mean ones away.” you jokingly say and the audience laughs along with you and the host. 

“of course! we try our best to uplift our contestants so all of those assholes online can kiss my ass.” the love guru says, winking and blowing a kiss towards the camera. “so, i’m sure you know how this episode will go, we’re going to bring out our bachelor’s and you’ll be able to ask them questions so you can get to know them better before you ask them on a date.” she explains while you nod and smile in response. 

“ready?” she asks and you enthusiastically answer. 

the crowd goes wild as the parition slowly descends from the sky, blocking your view of the boys as they all take turns walking down the stairs and taking their seats. the love guru greets them one by one and asks them a few questions before going into the nitty gritty, the Q&A. 

“well, i’ve done enough talking, now it’s time for our dove to get to know our bachelor’s. yn, what is your first question and who is it for?” the love guru asks and before you ask your first question, you take a deep breath and take a look at the cards in your hand that have the questions written on them. 

“i’ve only got a few questions but i think they’re the perfect questions for me to get to know all of you… so here it goes..

this question is for all of the bachelor’s, do you believe in love at first sight?” you ask and the crowd interjections with a curious sound while you wait for their answers. 

bachelor no. 1: no, i don’t; but i think that love is built on memories and if your first sight with someone is the stepping stone to love then, sure.  bachelor no. 2: yes but i think it isn’t always romantic, sometimes when you see someone for the first time you know they’re going to be a part of your life forever. so, yes? kinda..? haha.. bachelor no. 3: yes, i feel like knowing how you feel about someone at first glance is really important because it’s your first impression of them and when you feel those sparks and it seems like a love song is playing in your head; you know that it’s love.  bachelor no. 4: i would say… yes! i’ve definitely felt like i’ve loved someone when i’ve first seen them but it doesn’t mean it will last, sadly. i probably shouldn’t say this but that’s how i felt about my ex, seeing her for the first time i knew i’d love her and i think that’s something that people should experience with love at least once in their lives. 

you processed their questions and although you appreciated all of their responses, bachelor number one’s short and clear response stuck out to you, especially because he was the only one that said that he doesn’t believe in love at first sight. you also took the time to take in their voices, tone and inflection, and how they’d look depending on their voice. 

it was hard to try to come up with how you think they would look but you took note of their voices and how it made you feel. one had an australian accent, another was smooth like honey, one was deep and low, while the other was surpassingly comforting. 

“interesting answers guys.. personally i don’t believe in love at first sight because you can never know if you love someone until you’ve grown to learn who they are but i loved all of your answers…

bachelor’s one and three… who is your favorite person?”

there was a comfortable silence as the two bachelor’s tried to come up with their answers, you watched as the crowd intensely watched the guys on the opposite side of you to read their reactions but there wasn’t much besides furrowed brows and heart eyes for them. at least you could deduce that they’d be handsome even if you don’t know how they look. 

this was an important question for you, one that you had asked to write in, and although you wanted to ask all of them this question, production only allowed you to ask two of them because they had chosen certain questions to be for all or some. 

bachelor no. 1: my favorite person is my mom. it may seem like a generic answer but she’s the best person i’ve ever met. she is kind, loving, and everything i owe my happiness to. she’s taught me how to live a life where i won’t regret who i was and will be proud of the person i become. she’s my hero.  bachelor no. 3: my favorite person would be my dad. i attribute a lot of things to him because he introduced me to many things as a kid to allowed me to exercise my brain in different ways. he was a strong, respectable, and kind man and he’s fully supported me in everything i do and i know it’s cliché but i wouldn’t be the man i am today without my dad. 

both bachelor’s answers were very touching and it made your heart swell to know that both of them answered with a family member in mind. family values were important to you but it wasn’t a deal breaker; it’s just nice to know that they have people in their family that support them. you watch the crowd closely as you listen to their answers and much like before, it was all adoring looks and you couldn’t help but feel more eager to meet them all as you take in their responses to your questions. 

you also make a point to remember that bachelor number one had spoken quite a bit and knowing it was because he wanted to share his admiration and love for his mom, it was very endearing. 

bachelor number three’s answer also brought the same type of warmth as number one since both of them chose one of their parents. you loved to see that they both admired their parents and attributed the good things in their lives to the way they were raised and treated by their parents. 

“for bachelors two and four… give me your best pickup line!” your question is instantly met with laughter and cheers as people seem to think the question is very amusing as everyone in the studio awaits the two bachelor’s pickup lines. this was a question on the list they had given you and you thought it was a good way to test their charisma and humor. 

bachelor no. 2: if you had three wishes, what would you wish for? well… i guess you only have two wishes left now that i’m here.  bachelor no. 4: do you play soccer? because you’re a keeper!

the crowd laughs at both men’s pickup lines and although you weren’t expecting much as the question to you was more of a personality test than anything serious like the question you had asked prior, it told you a bit about each of them. 

bachelor number four must play soccer since he was keen to include soccer in his answer opposed to just using a typical pickup line while bachelor number two surprised you with his answer. it was not only a pickup line you hadn’t heard before but it was smooth and you could feel butterflies form in your stomach as if he said it to you directly while looking into your eyes. it was so direct yet playful. his voice also added to the effect, it was deep and smooth; like a warm cup of tea. comforting.. 

the other guy’s voice felt oddly familiar to you but you weren’t sure why. his accent was strong and it definitely lingered in your mind as you replayed his voice over and over. it was sweet and you could tell the crowd loved his accent as they’d swoon whenever he spoke– you found yourself intrigued but not in the same ways the crowd had fallen for him. maybe you just needed more time.. 

“wow! those surely were some pickup lines..” you say with a chuckle and the crowd laughs alongside you and the love guru as you poke a bit of fun at their pickup lines as if you didn’t enjoy them. 

“okay, this question is for number one and four: in one action, how would you impress your girlfriend’s parents when meeting them for the first time?” this question was somewhat important, obviously you cared what your parents thought about your boyfriend but it doesn’t necessarily mean it would be the end all be all if they didn’t like him, unless he did something incredibly bad, then yeah; it’s over. this question was more to test their skills with parents and a way for you to analyze they’re ability to present themselves to people that mattered a lot to you. 

“now remember boys, these are all hypothetical questions BUT we are airing this show so our dove’s parents will most likely see this.” the love guru adds in and all of the boys nod as if they weren’t aware of that circumstance in the first place. 

bachelor no. 1: for me, i’d probably take care of the whole night. instead of meeting them half way to some restaurant or having her parents take care of the meal, i’d plan the meeting myself and all they’d have to do was show up. that way i can show them that i’m not only capable of taking care of their daughter, but also them.  bachelor no. 4: i would impress them by showing her parents how well i know their daughter. i think a lot of parents are turned away from their children’s partners because they think they may not be worthy but by showing how well i know their daughter on more than just a superficial level, i think i’d make a good impression. 

both of their answers were very good, you were constantly impressed with bachelor number one’s answers because they were so well thought out and clear but number four’s seemed to always leave you with a sense of curiosity that led you to want to know more. “number four, can you elaborate? what do you mean by “more than just a superficial level””? you asked with a shrug and everyone’s eyes were glued onto him. 

it was like he was put under a spotlight and although you didn’t mean to do that, you were genuinely curious and wanted to learn more. 

number four didn’t hesitate or falter to answer, “by that i mean i want to show them that i know their daughter enough to take care of and that means also knowing everything about who and what she loves. i’d do my best to accommodate and alleviate all of her worries, always consider how things would affect her and doing that will show her parents just how much i love her. of course i can go on and on about how much i love their daughter, but showing them is a lot more effective, don’t you think?” 

it was in that moment that the familiarity you felt with number four finally hit you, the realization was like when you suddenly realize you may not have turned off the stove or if you had forgotten to lock your front door.. an uncertainty that lingered and it instantly made you feel anxious. 

“everything ok?” the love guru asks as if she had caught onto your shift in behavior. you nodded and put on a smile that was convincing enough because everyone cheered as you straighten yourself out and moved onto the next question. 

“okay! moving on..” you say with an awkward chuckle, one that doesn’t go unnoticed by quite literally everyone in the studio, you even noticed a weird expression from one of the cameramen.

“numbers two and three, how would you react if your girlfriend introduced you to her best friend who happens to be a boy?” although there was a clear answer to this question and you didn’t even have a best friend who was a boy, you wanted to hear their answers and have it be in front of an audience just in case that they ever turned their back on their word.

bachelor no. 2: i’d be like… that’s cool. to be honest i’d be somewhat intimidated, not because he’s a man but because he probably will be protective over her so he’s just another person’s trust i’d have to gain. my girlfriend’s friends are my friends.  bachelor no. 3: i wouldn’t care much. i’m secure enough to know that my girl only has eyes for me and that we can trust each other. we’ll become friends because of our mutual love for her. 

their answers weren’t anything out of the ordinary but you liked that number two admitted to the possibility of being intimidated by another man but following it up with his reasoning made you breathe a sigh of relief knowing that he was secure in his manhood– same with number three. 

“this is my last question and its a very important one.. if you were a season.. what season would you be?” you had hyped up the question like it was some complex and well thought out inquiry but it was very simple– but to you; it told you a lot. 

bachelor no. 1: autumn bachelor no. 2: fall bachelor no. 3: winter bachelor no. 4: spring

you were a bit surprised that no one said summer because you associated summer with joy and hanging out with loved ones– but it wasn’t your favorite season either. 

to you, summer means spending time with your loved ones, being outside in the sun, enjoying the warmth on your skin, being lively, bright, and energetic. summer was bright and wild, something for the extroverts. 

spring was about renewal and rebirth, a fresh start, and a way for people to enjoy something new. it’s for people who look forward to the first ray of sunlight after winter because it represents perseverance but also a new day. it’s like stepping outside after being cooped up indoors all day and taking your first breath of fresh air. 

autumn, a fairly popular season, is all about cycles. when the leaves fall from the trees after they transition to the array of vibrant colors that represent warmth partnered with the crisp air that fall brings; this season is for those who find comfort in the simpler things like enjoying the way leaves crunch beneath their shoes or slowly watching the last leaf fall from a tree. it’s a season that brings warmth despite often being chilly. 

winter, of course, is usually connected with the holidays. the icy cold air and the fluffy white snow, it’s nostalgic as you’re reminded of the holidays as a kid. hot chocolate made by your mom without her reminding you to put on warm socks and a sweater, getting excited to open gifts, looking out the window with wide eyes as you wait for the first sign of snowfall. winter was nostalgia with a mixture of desire as you think about the new year. 

“thank you guys! i won’t elaborate further but telling me what season you’d be tells me a lot about yourself.. think of it as a little secret just for me! 

i really appreciated all of your answers, they were all so thoughtful and funny and i’m very excited to get to know more about each of you as we go on dates these upcoming weeks!” you announce and the crowd cheers as they all get excited for the upcoming episodes where you’d go on a date with all of the boys and finally get to meet them. 

you thought about the dates too, since you had no control over the dates and the boys would be the one planning it out, you were a bit nervous.. it also doesn’t help that the audience today and those watching at home are the ones choosing who you go on a date with first. you also recalled the awkward tension between you and one of the bachelor’s. the wall separating the two of you was so thick yet so thin, like it was a veil that served no purpose to it’s intended use. 

there was no reason for you to feel that way with him since you didn’t know him so you just tossed it up to nerves and that you were equally nervous to meet all of the boys.. even if you were more nervous to meet one over the others for no apparent reason besides of a weird inkling. 

you’ve began to tune out the rest of the filming as you get in your head a bit, not paying attention to the love guru as she signs off for the show’s closing; nudging you a bit to pull you out of your thoughts as you say goodbye to the crowd and blow a cheeky kiss to the camera, one that is received well by the crowd as they applaud in glee at your gesture. 

“isn’t she cute, guys?” the love guru says and with a simple phrase, the producers and directors call for the end of filming. you immediately get up from your seat and jog to your dressing room, earning awkward stares from the production team and the crowd. 

all of the bachelor’s unaware of your sudden action. 

prev ep 𐐪♡𐑂 next ep

hoonieyun notes: the mystery begins!! you guys now have the opportunity to vote on who you want yn to go on a date with first based on the answers to her questions! keep in mind that the pictures do not reflect who each bachelor's are depending on what or who answered for the question the pictures are sectioned with or the order of the photosets. it's simply just for visuals as how i think they'd dress for this week's episode! don't forget to vote below but i will be ending the poll two days early so i can write out the chapter and leave it a bit of surprise on who won the poll! also PLEASE leave your theories below on who you think each bachelor is based on the answers!! i tried to match it the best i can to what i think each hyung line member would say :3

copyright 2025 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned. if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3

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[imsogonesposts]

A Night at the Grammys

|| ao3 || an: this is part of a series, but each fic can be read on its own || I'm With the Rockstar series Masterlist || steve harrington masterlist ||

summary: Steve invites you as his date to the Grammys after being nominated for Best New Artist. (wc: 1,823)

Steve had never expected to be nominated for a Grammy. He was aware that his manager, and friend, Nancy had submitted him for a handful of different nominations: best new artist, best pop vocal album, and song of the year, but he never expected to actually be nominated for them. So, when you woke up one morning to Steve yelling a “holy shit” on the day nominations were supposed to come out, you had a fair idea as to what could cause him to be so excited so early in the morning.

“Good morning,” you grumble, still half asleep as Steve pulls you into a hug, not having to use much effort as you willingly let him pull you. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” he mumbled as he pressed a series of kisses to the top of your head. “But I just got nominated for a Grammy,” he finishes, hugging you even tighter.

“You did? Which one?” You ask, pulling out of his embrace just enough to look at up him. His eyes were shimmering with happiness and pride.

“Best new artist,” he replied, pressing his forehead against yours with a smile. A smile you happily reciprocated as you moved to give him a proper kiss. 

“I’m so proud of you, baby,” you say, moving to hug him, your body fully now on his as you both lie in bed. Mornings like this always made you feel just a little lighter and happier. Mornings in his warm embrace, in your soft sheets, with the sun hitting him at just the perfect angle. What more could you ask for? “You deserve it, you’ve worked so hard. Pretty soon you’re gonna be getting Artist of the Year.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at your statement. You’d always been supportive of his music career from the very start, and it was evident you’d planned on staying supportive for a long time to come. “Well I don’t know about that,” he tells you, tilting your face just enough to press a kiss to your nose, a lazy smile on his face as he does so. “But let’s focus on the now,” he pauses, looking at you with a smile that you knew meant he had something important to ask. “Would you like to be my date to the Grammys?” He quietly asks as he brushes some hair out of your face, smiling at the wide grin that crosses your face. 

“The Grammy’s?” You repeat, as if not truly believing his words.

“Yes, the Grammy’s,” he replies, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Who else would I take, our neighbor?” He stops to laugh at the idea. “No, no, I’m taking the girl of my dreams,” he replies, bringing your face down for another kiss. “In case it wasn’t obvious,” he whispers, “that girl is you,” and before you get a chance to respond or fully let his words sink in, he’s kissing you again.

And when the kiss finally breaks, you can’t help but request, “please don’t wear a black suit, those are always so boring.”

He laughs again. “Babe, it’s the Grammy’s, not the Met Gala.”

“I don’t care, you should still look nice. Well, nicer than usual,” you tell him as he moves a hand to cup the side of your face with a small pout. 

“I thought you always thought I looked nice,” he replies. Though, the pout is quickly wiped away when you move to kiss him again. And again and again and again. He wasn’t planning on leaving this bed any time soon. 

***

Finally, months later, it was the night of the Grammys, and yours and Steve’s shared home looked like a stampede had trampled through by the time the multiple stylists, hairdressers, and make up artists left. 

“This is going to be a mess to clean up tomorrow, and we’re going to be too hungover to do anything about it,” Steve hears you grumble, biting back a laugh as he knocks on the bedroom door. 

“Can I come in?” He asks as you reply back with a “yes.”

“You look nice,” you tell him with a wide smile. He had listened to you and opted to not wear a black suit, instead, wearing a color that looked all too familiar to you, you just couldn’t place where you’d seen that exact shade before.“Why’d you pick that color?” You ask, looking up at his face to notice his staring. 

It was like you came straight out of a movie. Your hair perfectly framed your face, your dress shaping you perfectly, your make up looked gorgeous. You looked perfect. You were perfect, and he couldn’t help but stare. “You look gorgeous,” he quietly replied, still staring at you as if he just saw the Northern Lights. You couldn’t help but laugh at his reply, tilting your head with a smile as he continued to stare at you. 

“You ignored my question,” you tease as he finally snaps out of his trance. 

“Sorry, what was your question?” He asked as he took a step towards you, arm already wrapping around your waist. 

“Why’d you choose that color?” You repeat as a lovesick smile crosses his features. 

“It’s the color of your eyes, dummy,” he answers, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Oh, so that’s why the color looked so familiar. “It’s one of my favorite colors,” he mumbles against your forehead. “Let me take a picture of us, Robin’s been bugging me all day about wanting to see the ‘final results’ and whatever.” He suddenly states, pulling away from you to look for one of your phones as if he didn’t just alter your brain chemistry with a simple statement. Though, that was the thing about Steve, he always had a way of saying the absolute sweetest things to you, just to act like it was a normaleveryday sentence. Like those were normal, regular thoughts he had any time he was around you. Like loving you came to him like second nature. Like something he did unconsciously. Like breathing or blinking or scratching at an itch. Like he loved you as easily and as much as you loved him. Though, to be fair, he never made much of an effort to hide just how much love he had for you. 

“Hey, why’d you choose that color for your dress?” He asked as he finally found his phone, moving to your side to take a picture of the two of you. 

“I like the color,” you reply before kissing his cheek. 

***

“So, what do we think?” Steve asks, leaning into your side as you both sit at your designated tables, waiting for the ceremony to begin. You scan around the room, taking in the different singers and producers surrounding the two of you. The Grammy’s was nothing like you had ever seen before. 

“I’ve seen better,” you tell him in feign boredom as he laughs. 

“Better than all this?” He asks, using one hand to gesture around the room, the other moving to wrap around your shoulders. “I’m sorry, babe, but I find that hard to believe,” he jokes, smiling at your shrug. 

“I’m just saying, they could’ve done better,” you tell him as he rolls his eyes, fighting a smile. 

“Well, keep your voice down. They hear you talking smack and they might not let me win tonight,” he jokes, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

“They’d have to be idiots to not give you that award,” you tell him, complete honesty and confidence in your voice. He couldn’t help but love how much faith you had in him. How much you truly believed in him. He knew he was lucky to have you in his life, and he was grateful for it every time he got to wake up in the morning and see your pretty face, and every night when he got to hold you in his arms. 

And award after award later, they had finally gotten to the category that meant the most to the two of you. 

“And for best new artist, the award goes to,” the presenter took a pause, opening the envelope to announce the winner. Steve took your hand, unconsciously squeezing it as you both waited for a name. It felt like hours until she finally read the name aloud: “Steve Harrington!” Applause filled the room but none of that mattered to Steve, all he could do was look at you before pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. 

“Congratulations, baby!” You said as you hugged him back. You could hear him mumbling “oh my god, oh my god,” into your shoulder, and you couldn’t help but smile. He had put so much work into his last album, so much work into his music career as a whole. In your eyes, there was no one who deserved that Grammy more than him.

You wished you could stay hugging him like that forever in order to celebrate his accomplishment. But you also knew if you didn’t do anything about it, Steve might just stay in your arms forever, so as you pulled away from the hug, you gave him a quick kiss before lightly pushing him towards the stage. “Go get your award, honey,” you said with a laugh.

His steps were a little clumsy, likely due to the nerves, but you couldn’t help but smile at the big grin that overtook his face. And to think he never thought his career would go this far. 

“Wow, okay, this is crazy,” he said into the microphone after thanking the presenter and accepting his award. “I want to thank everyone that’s helped me get where I am today. My friend’s for pushing me to put my music out there and keeping me humble, the fans that helped me get where I am today, my producers who helped make this album what it is, and of course, my beautiful girlfriend. She’s been my rock this whole time, and I definitely wouldn’t be up here without her, especially since most of my songs are about her.  But she’s been with me through thick and thin, and I’m eternally grateful for her and everyone that helped me get to where I am today.” He finishes his speech by waving his Grammy up in the air,before leaving the stage, making his way back to you. 

“Sometimes I forget how sweet you are,” you whisper when he takes his seat next to you once more. 

He hands you his Grammy so you could get a look at it as he runs a hand up and down your arm. “I should write more songs about you, then,” he jokes, “that way it gets stuck in your brain.” He lightly pokes the side of your head as if to emphasize his point, before turning your face for a kiss. You had to admit, more songs did sound nice. 

[mommyslittlebird]

It Was Never Perfect

Stepmom!Wanda x Reader

After your perfect week alone with Wanda, the rest of your family comes home. You start to wonder if it was the right choice to even come home in the first place.

CW: R is hella jealous of everyone, stepcest, shitty father, possessive sex, body writing, oral sex, overstimulation, risky sex, Freud’s rolling in his grave, R is a little freak

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: This one kinda sucks and it’s very angst heavy. It’s kinda a huge fucking downer but in a slightly ✨sexy✨ way. I promise chapter 5 will be well worth it though. Sorry this took so long to come out!

Part 4 of Her Special Girl

For what it’s worth, you did get to wake up in Wanda’s arms on Christmas morning. You were gently shaken awake at 6:30 in the morning with light kisses to your face. “Merry Christmas, little love,” she whispered. 

You flopped over onto her chest, a sleepy smile plastered across your face. “Merry Christmas, mama.”

The two of you spent the whole morning in bed together, tangled in each other's limbs. You didn’t even get up to brush your teeth before your lips were pressed to hers. Neither of you minded, though. You were far too concerned with having your hands and lips all over each other to let something as silly as morning breath stop you. 

Around 9 o’clock though, when your lips had just made their way to her navel, you heard the front door open. Wanda groaned, reluctantly pushing you away and rolling out of bed. She put on a pair of Christmas pajamas and threw you a pair onto the bed. You reluctantly pried yourself off her mattress, putting on the pajamas.   

You heard the shouts as soon as she left the bedroom. “Mommy!”s suddenly filled the foyer and the staircase as you heard little footsteps scramble their way up the stairs. The sound made your stomach turn with envy. That was your mama. 

You walked out of the bedroom to find everyone in the foyer. Billy and Tommy, your stepbrothers and Wanda’s other children, were wrapped tightly around her waist. Wanda’s real children, you reminded yourself. 

She had her arms wrapped around them as she kissed both of their heads. “I missed you boys so much! It’s been so lonely around here without you guys.” She knelt down on the ground, kissing all over their faces in the manner she’d kissed yours only hours ago. 

Your stomach went sour. Lonely? She’d spent the week feeling lonely? No. She was lying. She was just saying that to make them feel better. She hadn’t been lonely. She had you. You were all she needed, right?

She only twisted the knife further when she stood up straight to greet your father. “I’ve missed you, my love,” she said softly before taking his face in her hands and kissing him. 

You thought you were going to be sick. You turned around and ran into the bathroom, bracing yourself against the sink. This couldn’t be happening. You were her love. You were her baby. You were her favorite, her whole world, the only person she’d ever need. She spent the week telling you so. So why were suddenly feeling like the least important person in this entire house?

You turned on the sink and splashed your face with cool water. You watched yourself in the mirror as the cool water ran down your chin. Suddenly, you were 18 all over again…

—--------

You stood in front of your bathroom mirror, getting ready for the day, beaming with pride and excitement. You’d been working for two whole years and it finally paid off. You’d spent months studying to get your GED, then even longer studying to get a near perfect score on your ACT, all to get to this moment: getting accepted to college. A full ride to the local university, nonetheless. Wanda was going to be ecstatic.

You’d found out last night, but you wanted to wait until morning to tell Wanda, when the boys had left for school, your dad had left for work, and it was just the two of you alone. You crept into her office, the piece of paper held firmly in your hands. 

By the time you knocked on the door though, Wanda looked tired and pissed. “Mama?” you called into the room, hoping this would cheer her up. 

You hadn’t noticed Wanda was on the phone. She put her finger to her lips to indicate you needed to be quiet. You dropped your hands to the side, chewing on your lip impatiently. 

 “Yeah, okay,” she sighed to the person over the phone. “I’ll be there soon.”

She hung up the phone and threw it into her bag. You opened your mouth to speak, but were quickly cut off. “I’ve gotta go to the school. Tommy apparently thought it would be funny to shove his brother in a locker,” she said with an exasperated sigh. She picked her bag up from under the desk, practically shoving past you to get out the door. 

“But, mama…” you said, trying to run down the stairs after her. 

“Can you make sure my computer doesn’t shut off before I get back, please? I’ve gotta go,” she interrupted again, walking out the front door and all but slamming it in your face. 

You froze for a minute, heart shattering into a million pieces. Time seemed to stand still as the letter fell from your hand and onto the ground of the foyer. You shrunk into yourself, feeling like the tiniest, most insignificant thing on the entire planet. You tucked your knees to your chest, sitting on the bottom step. Tears poured from your eyes, clogging your sinus until you could hardly breathe. Sobs ripped through your chest, echoing through the foyer so loud it shook the glass chandelier. 

It was always going to be like this. You shouldn’t have expected anything less, really. Wanda was never yours to begin with. You were stupid for thinking she cared. You were even stupider to think she cared about you over her own kids. Her real kids. Whatever you thought you had with her, whatever you thought she felt, was a fairytale. 

You had a mother, a real one, and she didn’t care about you. You were dealt a shitty hand, and you still thought you could somehow win the game. This “having a mother” thing was simply an impossibility for you. You could toil all you wanted. It was futile. You had already lost.

This was reality. You were alone. 

You were already tucked up in the furthest corner of your room when Wanda walked through the front door. “You, young man, are gonna spend the rest of the afternoon in your room finishing up all this homework you missed,” She sternly informed Tommy, sending him angrily up the stairs. He slammed his bedroom door, only furthering Wanda’s fury. 

She set down her bag and shoes at the door, huffing. She noticed a piece of paper carelessly discarded on the hardwood. She sighed in annoyance. Did anyone know how to pick up after themselves around here?

She picked up the piece of paper, charging up the stairs. She knocked on your bedroom door.. “Honey? You left this in the foyer. I really need you to start picking up after yourself, okay? You can’t just be leaving things all over the house.”

When you didn’t answer, she huffed again. “Well, I’ve got to get back to work.” She folded up the paper and slid it under the crack of your door without reading it. She went back to her office without another word. 

You made your way to the door, taking the letter in your hands and ripping it in half. You weren’t going to that stupid fucking university. You weren’t going to stay in this stupid fucking town. You were done playing house with a family that wasn’t yours. You were done savoring the praise of the woman who wasn’t even your real mom. 

You were going to go somewhere new. Somewhere better. You were gonna find people who cared about you. 

You didn’t need her. You didn’t need anyone. If no one else was going to be happy for you, you were going to be happy for you. And that was going to be enough. That was going to have to be. There was nothing else. 

—--------

You shivered, drying your face before heading downstairs. 

“Hey, honey! Look boys! It’s your sister!” Wanda cheered, trying to get the boys excited to see you. They shyly hid behind her legs, scared in the way children get when an unfamiliar presence intrudes on their familiarity. You hadn’t seen them in over two years. You were practically a stranger. 

“Are you coming to your grandmother’s with us?” your father asked. 

You looked at Wanda. She could immediately read more than just confusion. There was something very wrong. “She’s gonna stay here. With me,” she answered for you. 

Your father made no comment, turning back to the boys. “Alright fellas, go bring your bags up to your rooms. We gotta get to grandma’s for presents.”

“Presents” seemed to be the magic word, as the boys immediately ran up the stairs, carrying their bags with them and getting ready to leave again. You, Wanda, and your dad were all left in the foyer.

There was a terribly awkward silence, then Wanda spoke up. “Well,” she started, “speaking of presents, we were just finishing the last of the wrapping up in the bedroom. We should get back to it. So it’s done by the time you all get back. Right?” She looked at you, raising her eyebrows expectantly. 

You nodded, desperate to get out of this situation. “Right.”

Wanda wasted no time grabbing your hand and whisking you away. When she reached the top of the steps, she called back down to your father. “We’re wrapping things for you, so don’t come up here!”

She pulled you into the bedroom, shutting the door gently behind you. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “What’s wrong, little love?”

Your brow furrowed in something between sadness and anger. “You’re my mama. Mine.” 

She cocked her head to the side, trying not to look amused as you were very clearly upset. “Aww, sweetheart,” she whispered with a slight chuckle. “Of course I’m your mama, sweet girl.”

You stood in front of her silently, the same angry and sad look on your face. 

“Oh come on, don’t give me that face,” she said quietly, cupping your cheek in her hand. “Is it hard for you to share mama after you’ve had her to yourself all week?”

You nodded, face softening ever so slightly. “You kissed dad! And… and you told the boys you had a bad week with me!”

“Honey,” she said, a bit firmer this time. “That isn’t what I said. I told the boys I missed them. And we both know I take no pleasure in kissing your father. Can you tell me what’s really got you so worked up? Talk to mama.”

You rubbed your arm, hesitant to spill your concerns. “Now that your real family is back you're gonna forget all about me like mom did,” you finally said, speaking just above a whisper. 

“Oh sweetheart. No no no. Mama’s not gonna forget about you,” she gently pulled you into her arms, tucking your head just under her chin. “I could never forget about you. You’re mama’s special girl, remember?”

“Promise?” You asked weakly.

“I promise,” she assured. 

You stood for a moment, trying to find solace in her arms. When you couldn’t find any, you desperately demanded “say it again.” 

But before she could respond you heard your dad shout up from the basement. “Come on boys! We’re gonna be late to grandma’s!” 

Wanda pulled away. “I should help them get ready,” she explained, turning to leave the room. You winced as she closed the door, leaving you alone in her room. 

You were beyond angry. You were seething, practically vibrating with jealousy. 

You sulked to the bed, looking to the nightstand and picking up the black sharpie Wanda was using to write on the gifts last night. You uncapped the marker, staring at the black felt tip. Permanent may not actually mean permanent, but it wouldn’t come off for at least a few days. 

You were gonna make sure everyone knew who she belonged to. 

It was only a few minutes before you heard Wanda shouting out the front door, wishing the boys and your father safe travels. You waited impatiently, counting each step you heard on her way back to the bedroom. 

As soon as she stepped into the bedroom, you were on her, tearing at her closer, trying to get her closer. She took your hands in hers, stilling them. “Woah woah woah. Slow down. We have plenty of time.” 

But when she looked in your eyes, she didn’t see the same seductive, blissful face she’d seen this morning where you’d left off before your dad got home. No. You were angry. Possessive. Jealous.

“So that’s how this is gonna be,” she conceded with a smirk. She didn’t say anything more, but she looked almost excited. You didn’t respond, holding that same dangerous glare. She let go of your hands, giving you silent permission to continue. 

You pushed her body backwards until it hit the wall. You lips met hers in a harsh, bruising kiss that would leave both your lips swollen. You only pulled away for a moment to rip her shirt off over her head. She moaned as your hands pawed at her breast, squeezing them hard enough to hurt. You teased her nipples between your pointer finger and thumb, pinching and pulling them until she yelped. 

When you were sure her lips were puffy and raw, you made your way down her body, kneeling in front of her until you were face to face with her center. You looked up at her hungrily as you slowly pulled at the waistband of her pajama pants. “Say it again, mama. Tell me I’m special and you love me the most.”

She gently cupped your cheek, tilting your head up and stroking your cheekbone with her thumb. Even in your lustful, jealous haze there was a moment of peace when she said “You’re my most special girl, little love. Mama loves you more than anything in the world.”

You made short work of pulling her underwear and pants the rest of the way down. You gently kissed her mound before hungirly diving into her core, sucking her clit into your mouth. Her eyes closed and her mouth fell open in a blissful expression. She reached down and grabbed your hair, keeping you pressed tight against her. “Oh… fuck… please… oh my love…”

She threw her leg over your shoulder, pulling you even closer as your tongue circled her entrance. You reached up to stead her waist with your hands, holding her in place. “You’re making mama feel so good baby. Fuck I love you so much,” she panted, her legs starting to shake. She pulled one of your hands from her waist, holding it tight for support. 

“You’re gonna make mama cum, baby,” she breathed, arching away from the wall. You could feel her heel digging into your back as her wetness coated your tongue. You were addicted to her taste, and determined to be the only one who ever got the privilege of tasting her again. Your nails dug into the skin of her thigh as her hand tightened in your hair. She came with a silent scream, nearly collapsing to the ground against the wall. 

She smiled at you, satisfied. But you had that same hungry look in your eye. A look that told her you were far from done. 

“Say it again,” you demanded weakly. As angry as you were, you still just looked so little and desperate. You just wanted to be loved. You just wanted your mama. 

“Baby,” she cooed. She was still panting and disheveled. “What can I do to make you feel better?”

“Say. It. Again.” You commanded, biting down on your own lip. 

“You are my most precious angel. My most special girl,” she repeated. 

Wordlessly, you laid on your stomach in front of her, your face hovering over her sex. You blew cool air against the sensitive skin. You brought two fingers to her entrance, which, coated with the remains of her orgasm, gave no resistance.

“Ah,” she hummed, “careful baby. Mama’s very sensitive. Oh fuck…”

She bucked into your hand as your fingers curled to meet that special spot inside of her. You lowered your head, pulling her clit back into your mouth and flicking it lightly with the tip of your tongue. She threw her head back, arching herself further into your mouth. She groaned as you added a third finger, pumping yourself in and out of her in rhythm with your tongue. 

She grabbed your hair, chanting your name and grinding herself against you. “No one else can do this to me baby. It’s only you. Only you can make mama fall apart like this.” Her words encouraged you and you doubled down, circling her sensitive bud with your tongue.

“Honey… fuck you’re gonna make mama cum again,” she breathed, biting down hard on her lip as she came around your fingers. 

This time, you didn’t pull away, continuing your ministrations even after her orgasm subsided.

“Please baby… I can’t…” she panted. She squirmed against your tongue, trying to escape the ceaseless pleasure. You pulled your fingers away, instead wrapping both your arms around her thighs. You held her in place, determined to draw one final orgasm from her. 

You alternated between her entrance and her clit, pressing your tongue hard against her. Her legs trembled around your head, unable to handle the sensation. You hummed around her clit, spelling your name with your tongue over and over again. 

She came faster this time, forcibly pushing you away as she sprayed a stream of cum onto the carpet. You watched in fascination. You had never seen anyone cum that hard. She went limp against the wall, exhausted. 

You helped her up onto the bed, letting her rest against the headboard. You ran to the bathroom quickly to get her a glass of water and a towel, just like she always did for you. 

“Thank you,” she smiled, gratefully accepting them both. She had taught you so well. 

You knelt down between her legs, laying your head down on her stomach. “I love you, mama,” you said softly, nuzzling into her navel. 

“I love you too, sweet girl,” she replied, running her fingers gently through your hair. “Are you feeling better now? Do you think you can play nice with your dad and brothers?”

You didn’t respond. You felt better, but swirling thoughts still lingered on your mind. You thought about your father taking your place in her bed. Would she let him touch her like you had? Would he draw the same heavenly sounds from her? Would she tell him she loved the way he touched her too? The thought made you sick to your stomach. You could deal with kisses, the hugs, the words of affection, but you couldn’t deal with that.

You sat up and grabbed the sharpie from the nightstand, uncapping with your teeth. She grabbed your wrist. “Honey. We can’t. You know that.”

“He’s not allowed to see you here!” You screamed in despair, pointing at her lower abdomen. 

She looked into your desperate eyes. Sex was a scarcity between her and your father anyway. He almost certainly wouldn’t see it. She would just have to be careful getting in and out of the shower. The risk was high, but, if it could bring you even a little relief, the reward was higher. She sighed. “Alright, sweetheart. Keep it below the waist and above the mid thigh.”

You started with your name, big and bold just below her abdomen. You wrote it smaller in cursive on her inner thighs and then initialled and put a heart right next to each of her nipples before sitting back to admire your creation. 

You added a few more hearts along her pelvis before capping the marker and putting it back on the nightstand. 

Your dialated eyes and possessive gaze didn’t escape Wanda’s notice. She reached up and rubbed your chin. “I’m all yours baby. Do you like that? Knowing no one else gets to touch mama like you do? Nobody else makes mama feel so good.”

You nodded eagerly. “Not even dad because you love me more than him, right.”

She smiled gently and pulled you down to rest against her bare chest. “That’s exactly right, sweetheart. Not even your father makes me feel like you do.” She tapped the tip of your nose affectionately. “Now let’s get this shirt off so mama can hold you nice and close.” 

You put your arms up so she could pull the dense sweater from your body. She discarded it to the side along with the clothes you’d torn off her earlier. You laid flat against her warm skin. Her nails gently scratched up and down your back. “There we go. That’s my sweet girl. Do you feel better now?”

You nodded against her chest, wrapping your arms around her in the tight space between her body and the mattress. She played with your hair, silently at first, but then she started to sing softly. You recognize the tune, but the words were in Wanda’s native language. 

You laid like that for a long time, listening to the soft beat of her heart, until the front door opened again and you heard two sets of little feet running through the foyer. Reluctantly, you peeled yourself away and put back on your sweater. 

Once you were both dressed, you reached to unlock the door, but Wanda grabbed your hand. 

“Wait. One more thing,” she said, turning you around to face her. She knelt down in front of you and lifted your shirt. “Hold this.”

You cocked your brow in confusion, but held your sweater up. It was only when she lifted her hand to touch your stomach that you noticed the sharpie between her fingers. You felt the cool tip glide across your stomach, just above your navel. In her neat cursive penmanship, she had written “Mama’s Special Girl”. She capped the marker and grabbed your hip on either side, pulling you close and kissing your stomach. The kiss left a distinct red lipstick print just under her words. You beamed as you looked down at what she had left. 

She climbed to her feet, dropping your sweater to cover the message. “Alright. Let’s go have Christmas.”

—--------

Despite your reservations, Christmas went better than expected. It helped that your father, in his usual shitty mood, left to go take a nap, claiming he was exhausted and it just couldn’t wait. No one protested. 

The boys opened their presents with all the excitement expected of 8 year olds. It did actually make you feel better that they warmed up to you quickly. Maybe you couldn’t be the only person in Wanda’s life, but it was nice to least be part of her family. You kept your hand on your stomach, soothing yourself with the thought of the special words that sat just underneath the fabric.

Wanda, as usual, went way overboard with the gifts, despite you not asking for anything. Some of them were marked “From: Dad” or “From: Santa”, but you knew they were all from her. She had gotten you some dorm room decorations, a lego set, and every item off of your amazon wishlist, a list you didn’t even know she still had access to. She must’ve kept the link from years ago when you still lived at home. 

Once all the presents were gone, the boys ran happily around the house, playing with their newly acquired toys. Wanda smiled from her spot next to you on the couch, pulling you into a quick side hug. “Did you get everything?”

You smiled and nodded. “And more. What about you?”

She rubbed your chin affectionately. “Well, you’re here. So you tell me.”

You chuckled and looked nervously down at your lap. “There’s actually something else.”

“Oh?” she asked cheekily. 

You got up from the couch and grabbed an envelope from the mantle. You fidgeted nervously with the corner as you brought it to Wanda on the couch. “To: Mama” was scrawled in your messy handwriting on the back.

She carefully opened the envelope revealing an acceptance letter. A full ride scholarship to your local university for the spring semester. You were coming home. For good.

Her mouth fell open and her eyes brimmed with tears. “Is this… are you…”

You nodded and she grabbed you, pulling you down on the couch with her in a tight hug. “I love you so much. After my boys, I never thought I could ever be so lucky to get another special blessing in my life. But I found you,” she cradled your head in close. “And I’m never letting you go. Never again.”

[adrift-in-thyme]

Febuwhump Day 1: Vocal Chords (Wild & Twilight)

Read on Ao3

I didn't get a chance to hop on Tumblr for the last few days so I'm posting these now to catch up!

CW for burn wounds, axe wounds, and a spell taking away a character's voice

----------------------------------------------------------------

The forest is quiet, save for the soft hoots of owls and far off chirps of keese. Wild walks on silent feet, careful to avoid fallen branches and piles of decaying leaves. Autumn remains year round in the Akkala region. The air is forever seized with a damp chill, the earth forever laden with the burden of fiery foliage.

Its beauty cloaks danger as the hills of Faron hide flashes of distant lightning. 

In this moment, that danger feels closer at hand than usual. 

No sooner had the Shadow’s latest portal deposited the heroes in Wild’s time, than the reports had begun pouring forth. 

“Monsters!” One positively petrified looking man at the stable had cried, wringing his hands. “Mysterious and horrible! They twist the mind and take what they cannot return!”

“No one’s seen anything like it before!” Said a woman, running a comb through a horse’s silken mane. “We’ve always dealt with monsters around here — you know that better than anyone, Link — but these…these don’t belong to our world.”

And so, the heroes had split up into groups of twos and threes and began their journey to the very corners of Akkala’s wild woods. None had been able to guess what exactly they were looking for or what they would face in the end. But such mystery was nothing new to any of them. And it had never stopped them before. 

The prospect of the discovery had been a bit exciting at first, if also tinged with fear. Now, however, Wild finds that his eagerness has diminished. In this place peppered with the fallen corpses of guardians, freckled with water settled long enough to attract bothersome clusters of mosquitoes and gnats, it feels as though the world holds its breath.

He walks forward, Twilight by his side, padding softly upon giant paws, and the beasts and creatures of his overgrown land watch with bated breath. Awaiting the imminent crash of thunder.

Wild reaches out, places a gentle hand on Twilight’s back. Upon his fur, droplets of suspended water have fallen, turning the thick, dark layers cold and damp. A huff of breath through the chilled nose that nuzzles him creates a wisp of fog that takes its time dissipating.

“They’re here.” 

It is a murmur, almost a whisper. Wild is no stranger to the feeling that the disturbing of a quiet place is a sin most severe. Many a time he has hardly dared to breathe lest he awaken some monstrosity, harm some delicate beauty. But the sensation now is different. The air is electric. To speak aloud, to shout, would be to invite death.

“I don’t know what they are, but I can feel them. Can you smell anything, Twi?”

The rancher lifts his nose to the air, takes a few audible inhales. Then, to the ground he goes, nostrils blowing small bubbles in the puddles beneath their feet.

He walks forward several more steps before his ears prick up. 

Wild’s breath catches. “Did you find something?”

Twilight ducks his head in the affirmative. Wild draws his sword, hefts his shield firmly into his grasp. Together, they start forward. 

For what seems an eternity, all is quiet. Not so much as a squirrel or a fox dares to raise their head above the waving grass. Birds do not sing in the trees. Even the Guardians, often prone to rising revitalized from their shallow graves, remain still as the death that binds them. 

Perhaps, that is why, when the sound finally comes, it is deafening. 

It explodes from behind the two heroes in tongues of ravenous blue-white flame. Pain accompanies them, so cold it sears. 

With a shout, Wild tries to lunge sideways. But his foot catches on a smoking log. He stumbles over it and his own feet, lands with a sodden, sorrowful splash. 

Quickly, he shoves himself upward on arms that tremble. His back burns. The smell of burnt flesh and charred hair wafts nauseatingly.

Somewhere, someone is crying. Their anguished sobbing fills in his ears, mingling with screams so terrible he feels their echoes in his soul. 

The hairs on the back of his neck rise as Wild does. Wiping tears born of smoldering foliage and pain, he stumbles forward. Already, flames have begun to surround him. Even the rampant puddles cannot douse them. 

He cannot see their attacker. He cannot see Twilight.

But he can hear him. Over the sobbing, over the screams, is a distinctively sharp yelp. 

Laughter splits the air like a cleaving axe. 

“Twilight!”

Wild tries to say his name, tries to shout it. His lips form the word, his tongue moves to push it forth. Yet nothing escapes. No sound of his own pierces aching ears. 

Already raging panic shoots up to a fever pitch.

He begins to run. 

“Twilight! Twilight!”

Speech is an art he can no longer perform. His body is uncooperative. His breath comes so fast it escapes in hiccups. 

Eyes glare from the cerulean gloom, eyes that see too much but lack the means to do so. A dark hood, a gown of splotchy gray, a lantern that swings like the pendulum of a grandfather clock. The figure comes forth as though from nothing and drags its claws across his face. 

Wild backs up, spluttering, tasting iron. Behind him, someone giggles and it sounds like the cry of one in the throes of death. He does not have time to turn. Something sharp slices through bone and sinew, muscle and veins, and nestles mercilessly into his shoulder blade.

His mouth opens in a scream from which there is no sound. Wild whirls, slashes blindly. The axe falls and slices further as it does so. The ground tilts beneath him. His strikes do not make their desired contact. Air meets them, air thick with smoke and flame.

And from it come countless other lanterns. They bob like barrels on the turbulent waters, approaching with relentless determination.

Any emotion he had harbored before is gone now. Terror is all that is left. 

Wild throws himself into a spin attack. His surroundings blur. Heat eats at his face, his body. Fire licks at the edges of his cloak. 

The lanterns retreat slightly. 

Again, laughter sounds. 

Again, pain splinters through him. 

Wild crumples with an axe in his thigh. 

Find Twilight. 

It is all he can do now, the only command he can give himself. It is enough to make him rise, enough to make him draw his own weapon of flame. Balls of fire surge forth, bouncing gallantly in every direction. Their searing crimson is welcome in a sea of cold. 

They must hit something, because a screech splits the air. Encouraged, Wild swings again. 

This time, he sees it hit. From the hands of a creature sewn like a haunted doll,

drops the axe that had very nearly relieved him of his head. 

He flings more flame, sees an opening, and moves towards it as fast as his shredded leg will allow. 

Blood rains in his wake, replacing the vibrant crimson of the leaves that have long since turned to ash. Agony lights up his every motion. There are tears in his eyes, pounding in his head. Still, the creatures come. Their lanterns converge, signaling their surrounding him on all sides. With reckless abandon, Wild swings at them.

“Twilight!” It would sound like a sob if it was able. Yet, still no sound escapes.

A spell of some sort, it must be. His jaw aches from its bindings.

Where…where is he?

He does not want to imagine the rancher lying limp in a bed of flame. He does not want to think of him suffocating on smoke. He cannot entertain the idea that Twilight has perished amongst the very stuff that sends him into a panic. 

Gasping, Wild stumbles, falls. Claws find him instantly, ruthless in the way they pierce him. They scrape his flesh, expose his bones. He chokes. His weapon falls from his hand. Just as fast, their nails are in the back of his hand, digging through and into the mud beneath. 

He looks up into the endless darkness of their gaping eye holes and sees death. There is no escape from it. He wants to run, wants to fight. But no strength surges miraculously within him. No salvation flits down from the heavens in hues of gentle, glittering pink. Nothing arrives to shatter the spell that holds him speechless.

Wild closes his eyes, grits his teeth. He begins to drag his hand through the claws, ripping through his palm. Spots of deepest black and brightest white explode against his eyelids. He opens his mouth and…

Screams. 

His eyes fly open. His breath sticks in his throat. Through the stars exploding in his vision, through the tears and ash, dirt and blood, he sees him.

Twilight lunges in a blur of gray, stark against the pearly flame. Jaw wide, eyes flashing, he leaps at the creatures. Blood spurts through the air in furtive arcs, rising from the torn throats of the dead. It drips from his maw as he whirls on them like a beast possessed. 

Though they try to tear at him with claw and axe, he is far faster. He weaves between them with expert precision. One after another they fall until all that remains of them are their lanterns and the crackling flames. And even these are smothered by the sudden coming of rain.

Dismal drizzles transform into a true Akkala onslaught within seconds. Smoke rises in graceful plumes. The scent of it melds with moisture and blood. It burns Wild’s throat and eyes.

Twilight limps towards him. The wounds he had fought through before now weigh heavily upon him. When he transforms in a cloud of shadow, he nearly collapses.

But he manages to make it to Wild’s side, to kneel beside him. What little energy the champion had clung to flees so quickly he practically falls into Twilight’s waiting arms. The steady beat of the rancher’s heart fills his ears. Relief floods in, turning leaden limbs weightless. It is almost enough to push aside the nauseating cacophony of screeching pain.

Almost.

“You’re alive,” he croaks, and the relief increases so much that it is dizzying. His lips form the words, his tongue pushes them forth, and they fall audibly upon the smoldering remains of their battle. 

The spell, it seems, has broken with the collapse of the last opponent.

“Oh, cub.” Gentle fingers brush back wayward strands of hair. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize they were behind us. They must have cloaked themselves. And then I tried to find you, but with all the smoke I couldn’t smell you and I couldn’t hear anything and…”

His next inhale hitches. He holds him tighter. 

“I thought I’d lost you.”

Wild presses his face into the rancher’s chest and tries to drown out the agony. 

“I thought I’d lost you too,” he breathes. “I tried to call for you and I-I couldn’t. Twi, I couldn’t speak.”

He doesn’t mean for it to escape as a choked sob, and yet, it does. The pain pulsing through him, the remnant screams of his terror — it is all too much. 

“I know those monsters,” Twilight says, voice hoarse and unsteady. “They’re from my time.  But they’ve never been that powerful before. They’ve never had spells. The Shadow must’ve enhanced their abilities.

“But to have taken your voice…oh, cub. I’m so, so sorry.”

A tear slithers down Wild’s cheek, nudging aside dirt and grime to make its way to his neck. It joins the blood pooled in dark splotches upon his tunic. He clings to Twilight as his consciousness slips through clawing fingers.

“It’s not your fault,” he whispers, words slurring as he begins his descent. “I’m just glad…that you’re here now.”

[catcherwrites]

The first batch of my Arc 3 concept designs are finally done! It felt fitting to begin with the three who started it all: Rayla, Callum, and Ezran

Check out the more in-depth story and design choices below

Rayla

In the wake of S7’s Finale, Azymondias wasn’t just a 2-year-old King of the Dragons, but the only surviving Archdragon. That means he’s a very important figure across Xadia and the Human Kingdoms – and needs to be protected. Shortly after the events of S7, Rayla reclaims her title as ‘The Last Dragonguard’ and resurrects the order to act as Zym’s attendants, advisors, and protectors. She’s spent the last few years travelling between the Storm Spire, the Silvergrove, and Evrkynd, helping where she can and leading her fellow guards (who may be revealed in a later post). Rayla’s relationship with Callum has grown stronger than ever. Even though they’re holding off on marriage until Aaravos is dealt with for good, Callum gives her the Xadian equivalent of a promise ring he handcrafted (Ethari helped). With them both feeling secure with each other, they are more comfortable with being separated…but that won’t stop them from being attached at the hip whenever they’re near each other.

Going into these Arc 3 designs, I had a much clearer image in my head of Rayla compared to the other characters in my lineup. Using reference images of Tiadrin and Lain made creating Rayla’s Dragonguard uniform feel very bittersweet. Unfortunately, from a creative standpoint, uniforms run the chance of limiting the personality in a character’s design. I tried offsetting this by making Rayla’s undershirt and embedded gemstones in her armour more Silvergrove-y than Dragonguard-y. I also kept Rayla’s iconic belt, Arc 2 colour scheme, and added some of Ethari’s swirls where possible. Beyond the uniform, I kept going back and forth about her hairstyle. Keep the Arc 2 bun? Return to Arc 1’s style? Braided? A simple ponytail? Eventually, I settled on a half-up braid that let my sleep-deprived brain think I was getting the best of both worlds.

Callum

Ezran was disappointed when Callum turned down being his High Mage again, fearing that he’d lose his brother’s support in the council room. In reality, stepping down as High Mage meant that Callum could step up as Crown Prince. In the years following S7, Callum splits his time between assisting Ezran and studying magic on expeditions across Xadia. One of those expeditions leads him to Aaravos’ book in Elarion, which helps him delve deeper into the other primal sources. He’s fully mastered Sky and Ocean magic and has grown incredibly proficient at Earth magic. To Callum’s dismay, even with the help of Lujanne, Ethari, and Aaravos’ book, he still isn’t clicking with the Moon arcanum. He also hasn’t fully unlocked the Sun arcanum, but he’s getting very close and is a strong fire mage when wielding the Staff of Ziard. By Arc 3, Callum has gained the title of Archmage – and people far and wide seek him out for magical assistance, leaving him overworked and exhausted.

I was very excited to come up with Callum’s Arc 3 design for one reason: the parallels. His Arc 2 outfit is meant to resemble Viren, as Callum had taken his place as the High Mage of Katolis. But because he is no longer ‘High Mage,’ and instead ‘Archmage’, Callum’s Arc 3 outfit is intended to reflect Aaravos. I tried to do this with the sleeveless design, the open coat, and the vaguely celestial elements on his tunic. The geometric pattern on Callum’s coat is meant to look like a feather (symbolising his first primal source) while in the style of his Arc 2 coat. Rayla gifted Callum a matching belt buckle to hers (though with a moon opal for emergencies), which he wears alongside his uneven towers buckle from Ezran. His hair is mostly the same, except slightly longer, because I don’t see overworked-mage Callum caring about his hairstyle.

Ezran

S7 was a massive tipping point for Ezran: losing his brother, his true heart, and almost losing himself to the cycle of violence. While he stopped before he could go too far, Ezran was unequivocally changed by what happened. After Aaravos’ defeat, Ezran has been overseeing Evrkynd’s construction, ensuring it’s a safe home for humans and Sunfire elves who lost their home. However, it is also open to anyone, regardless of their origin. While he and Queens Janai and Amaya decided the people would rule the city of Evrkynd, Ezran continues to rule wider Katolis alongside his council. He does spend most of his time in Evrkynd for his royal duties, but Ezran is learning to take breaks – occasionally joining Callum, Rayla, and Zym on small getaways. As is tradition for anyone in the royal family, Ezran began combat training in his mid-teens with Soren as his teacher. He’s grown quite good and can hold his own in a battle (long enough for his Crownguard come to his aid, at least).

Ezran’s design in TDP has always been one of the simplest ones, probably symbolising his humble personality despite his status. I tried to maintain that effect in his Arc 3 outfit but with one major alteration. Going into this design, I wanted Ezran’s struggle in S7 to have had a visible impact on him by including armour in his design. His outer tunic is now gambeson, and his shoulder pads are scuffed-up leather. If he decides to wear it, the gold studs on Ezran’s shoulders are where his cloak will latch on. As should be expected from an age jump this severe, the biggest change to Ezran was his build. He’s finally overtaken his brother in height, much to the dismay of both Callum and Rayla, and is expected to be as tall as Harrow when he’s finished growing.

[racerchix21]

Roosters with accents and dolphins

For day 1 of @bucktommyfluffebruary | Non Sexual Intimacy

Tommy’s only just gotten to sleep in his bunk at work when his phone starts buzzing and he has to make a mad grab to silence it before Lucy yells at him. This is the first time they’ve gotten to relax all shift and he’s not looking to piss her off anymore than he already has.

When he finally gets it silenced and let his eyes adjust to the sudden brightness he’s greeted with Evan’s name and big cheesy grin from a photo the other man had taken the spring before on a hike.

Babe: Do you think roosters around the world crow with accents? Like in Ireland it’s an Irish accent and in Paris it’s French?

He’s hitting the call icon before he can stop himself as he slides out of from under the blankets and heads into the hangar proper.

“Tommy,” Buck says in an excited rush as soon as the call connects. “Seriously do you think roosters in other countries crow with accents?”

“Hey baby,” Tommy chuckles still trying to figure out how roosters came to be his boyfriends newest Wikipedia rabbit hole obsession but he has an idea of how to answer Evan’s questions. “I don’t know if roosters crow in the native accent to whatever country they live in but what if we take a vacation and see if we can’t figure it out together?”

“You wanna go on a vacation to see if roosters, something you have an intense fear of because of a chicken you met once on a call at the 118, to see if they crow with an accent,” Evan questions disbelieving.

“Well you intrigued me and I like the idea of spending a few weeks just you, me and the chickens,” Tommy tries to justify even though he’s also trying to figure out why he proposed the idea.

“Okay I’ll start researching stuff and then our next shared day off we can plan something,” Buck rambles on before starting to talk about an underwater documentary he’d watched with Jee and Tommy laughs again because he still can’t believe that Evan gave him another chance.

The alarm starts blaring again and Tommy hates having to interrupt Evan’s speech. “Baby I love you and I definitely wanna hear more about dolphins and their fascination with using pufferfish as toys but I gotta go. I’ll see you at home, love you.”

“Love you Tommy. Be safe.”

@rdng1230 @weewookinard @thecarrott @bangpop91

[redroomreflections]

Hotel California | Track 15: Roadies

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha Romanoff, frontwoman of the punk rock band Velvet Rebellion, falls hard for a woman she believes is too good for her. Their intense relationship unfolds in the chaotic world of rock 'n' roll, where they struggle to balance fame, personal demons, and their undeniable passion for each other.

W/c: 6k

Chapter 15/20

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Note: Tour Life

Themes: love, fame, sex, drugs

OPENING NIGHT - MADISON SQUARE GARDEN - NEW YORK CITY

The anticipation in the arena was high. Seats were filled and packed to the brim. The smell of smoke and alcohol already filled the air; everyone dressed to the nines. The excitement buzzed, bringing strangers together as they murmured and cheered, some munching on popcorn, others dancing to the waiting music—tracks from Velvet Rebellion’s first album, Velvet Love. It’d been twenty minutes since the opener, Daisy Crowe, rocked the mic. Now was the time.

The lights dimmed.

Smoke and pyrotechnics hissed from the stage as the crowd roared. A spotlight hit center stage—Bucky, standing alone with his guitar slung low. He strummed the first notes, a sharp, electric riff that sliced through the noise, setting the arena on fire. One by one, the lights snapped on, revealing Wanda on bass, Steve on the keys, and Tony behind the drums, the beat building like a pulse. The crowd was losing it.

Backstage, the final preparations were a flurry of motion. A makeup artist gave last-minute touches to Natasha's face, technicians adjusted lighting and camera angles, and people raced from room to room, ensuring everything was in place.

You stood beside Natasha, trying to remain calm as you gazed around the space. You could hear the crowd roar. It felt unreal. Her fingers brushed over her jacket one last time as she met your gaze. A soft smile played on her lips, but the tension in her eyes was impossible to miss.

"How do I look?" she asked.

You cocked your head, then reached up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Almost perfect," you answered, brushing your lips against hers. She kissed you back, and for a split second, everything outside of the two of you seemed to fade away. You pulled back, smiling. "There," you said, "Now, you're perfect."

She chuckled and rolled her eyes, then grabbed your hands, her fingers interlacing with yours.

"Don't be lovey at work," Mitch grumbled as she approached with Isabella trailing behind her. Your daughter gave you a knowing smile, sidling up to your side.

"I'll do what I want, Lester," Natasha said.

You grinned, and she leaned over, kissing you on the cheek. "Thanks for helping me get ready," she whispered.

"Anytime," you replied, squeezing her hands. "Though maybe you should ask one of the professionals next time."

"Here, Natasha, for good luck," Isabella said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a black hair tie. You recognized it immediately. It was one of her favorites.

Natasha’s face softened as she accepted it, tying it onto her wrist with a smile. "Thank you."

The crowd’s energy grew louder, the roar swelling as the moment approached.

Then, the lights above you flickered and dimmed, and the arena was plunged into darkness. The anticipation in the air was palpable. The sound of Bucky’s guitar rang out, followed by a fierce rush of music, and suddenly, the entire stage exploded into light.

"It's my turn now," Natasha breathed. "See you out there!" She quickly kissed your lips, then rushed off with Mitch to join the others on stage.

You watched them go, Isabella bouncing at your side. When you turned to face her, she was smiling. "I'm glad we're here, Mama," she said. "It feels amazing."

You couldn't have agreed more.

The next few moments were a blur. You clamped a pair of kids' concert earmuffs on her head and followed Mitch to the front of the stage. Then, bodyguards led you to an area of the crowd where you could see the show fully displayed. Isabella squealed with excitement as you stood in the center of the madness, the lights, the music, the energy.

You had no idea what you'd been worried about.

They started their set off with a bang. Tony pounded the drums, and Natasha, Bucky, and Wanda took the crowd on a high-energy journey through their first song - Rebel's Anthem, the title track. Natasha sang her heart out, working the stage and following the overarching theme. The band was a unit, an entity. They were unstoppable.

The audience was going wild, the cheering growing louder. They were having a blast. Isabella was bouncing, waving her arms in the air, with a huge smile. Natasha noticed you and waved before running across the stage and climbing the ladder to the upper level. She grabbed the mic and shouted into it.

She gripped the mic stand, head tilted back, soaking in the chaos before leaning into the mic, her voice smooth.

"We are Velvet Rebellion—welcome to the fucking show!"

The arena erupted.

Night Three - Los Angeles - The Forum

People still throw their underwear on stage. It’s always been a thing that never seemed to go away. Natasha strutted across the stage, her boots thudding heavily against the floor, a fire in her eyes. She was in her element—this was her world. The crowd went wild as her voice soared above the instruments, each note commanding their attention.

But as the show continued, something unexpected happened. From the middle of the crowd, a piece of clothing soared through the air, and before Natasha could even blink, a bra landed squarely on the stage, hitting the ground with a soft thud. The crowd roared with laughter and cheers.

"Really? This again?" Natasha muttered with a playful smirk, bending down to grab the offending garment. She held it up, her eyebrow quirked as she looked out at the audience. "You all are a special crowd," she teased, winking.

The audience erupted into cheers, loving every second of it. And as she tossed the bra to the side, another flew through the air, hitting Tony in the face. He let out a dramatic gasp, holding his hands to his cheeks like he’d been slapped.

“You’re all insane,” He called out, laughing as he took the microphone. “But hey, keep ‘em coming!”

Wanda rolled her eyes from behind Natasha. “Can we just play the music and not have a strip show every night?” she grumbled, but even she was smiling at the disorder.

"We should take a poll and see who wants a strip show more—the fans or our band," Natasha said with a wink.

The audience screamed, and Bucky grinned. "Well, now you've done it, Nat," he teased, throwing his arm around her shoulder. "We've got an audience to please!"

They played a few more songs, and the audience got rowdier as they did.

Night 4: On the Tour Bus – Heading to Vegas

Everyone always wondered what the band did while on tour. Specifically, what happened on the tour bus. She'd heard rumors of groupies, parties, and drugs, and she knew some bands get up to that; they'd gotten up to it at one point.

The reality of their time on the bus was a lot different. It was a different type of party with a kid on the bus for the next month.

Wanda sat cross-legged on the floor, her guitar resting in her lap. Her fingers strummed over the strings, filling the bus with music. Isabella lay across the couch behind her, her nose buried in a book. The guys were having some sort of eating contest. Natasha leaned against you, eyes half-closed, her head resting on your shoulder.

It was peaceful, calm, and semi-quiet, and you were content.

“You were amazing tonight,” you said softly, letting the bus lull the both of you to a state of peace.

“Yeah?” Natasha’s voice was tired but content. “I didn’t hear the crowd. I only saw you.”

You blushed and leaned forward, your lips brushing against hers. She smiled, returning the kiss.

Isabella groaned. "Please stop." followed by fake kissing noises from the rest of the group.

"We need our own room," Natasha muttered.

"I couldn't agree more," You laughed.

Night 6 - Chicago – United Center

The space behind the stage was cramped that night, and the team had made room for an interviewer from one of Chicago’s most prominent music stations, who was ready to get some behind-the-scenes moments.

“Alright, guys!” the interviewer called, waving the band over. “Let’s get some pictures, and then I have a few questions for you.”

When Tony pulled her into a side hug, Natasha had just finished catching her breath and wiping the sweat from her forehead. They smiled for pictures and answered questions as best they could.

"Alright, let’s spice things up a little—if you could steal one song from another artist and make it your own, which one would it be and why? Don’t hold back. I want the juicy stuff."

Natasha hummed thoughtfully, considering the question.

"Mine would have to be the Killers," she answered. "Their music has this fun, energetic feel to it. I want to give their songs a more modern sound."

The rest of the band gave their answers, and the interviewer smiled. "Interesting answers!" She turned back to the camera, grinning. "Now, it's time for a few fan questions. We've received thousands of letters from people worldwide and want to get some of their messages to you. So, without further ado, here's the first question..."

They ran through a list of questions, most of which were typical. "Who is your biggest inspiration?"

"What is your favorite part about being on the road?"

"What's the funniest thing that's happened so far on tour?"

Then, the interviewer's smile faltered. "The final question," she announced, sounding more serious. "We have a very special one today."

Everyone exchanged a confused look, but they remained silent, waiting for her to continue.

"A young woman wrote us a letter. Her name is Haley, and she's been a fan of Velvet Rebellion since their early days. She's currently battling cancer and is a huge fan of yours. She'd love to meet you. Can we set something up for the next show? You have a concert in Seattle the day after tomorrow."

"Bring her out," Wanda nodded, and the rest of the band agreed.

Night 7 – Seattle – Climate Pledge Arena

Meeting a fan was always a highlight for the band, but something about Haley made their night feel exceptional.

Haley was a teenage girl with a spark in her eyes despite the battle she was facing. The moment she stepped into the backstage area, her eyes filled with awe, and the crew couldn’t help but smile. They had all read her letter, and now, she was—standing before them.

The first thing she did when they met was quote a lyric from one of their deep cuts. It caught Natasha off guard, making her smile more expansive than usual.

"You know the words to 'Interstellar'? That's impressive," Natasha said, chuckling.

Haley grinned sheepishly, her cheeks turning pink. "I have a lot of time to listen to music. You're like... my escape. I don’t know how to explain it. Your songs help me get through the tough days."

Wanda's heart warmed at the sincerity in Haley’s voice. She put a hand on Haley's shoulder. "That’s what it’s all about," she said gently. "Music is therapy; it’s a way to keep going."

"Okay, I think it’s time for a tour," Steve said, smiling. "How would you like a backstage pass? We'll show you around."

Haley's eyes widened, and she practically squealed in excitement. "Are you serious?!"

"Of course," Steve replied, motioning for her to follow him. "Come on, let’s get this show started."

The band led Haley through the arena, showing her their dressing rooms, the massive stage that would soon be packed with screaming fans, and even the tour bus that had become their home on the road. Whenever they stopped to explain something, Haley was in awe, her hands trembling slightly with excitement but always eager to learn.

Eventually, it came time for the show, and the band had to prepare. But before they parted ways, Natasha turned to Haley.

"I've got something for you," she said, her voice soft. She pulled a leather jacket out of her rack. "We all signed it," she explained.

Haley took the jacket, tears filling her eyes as she held it close.

"I'll keep fighting," she said, hugging it.

"That's all we can do."

Night 23 – Tour Bus – En Route to Another City

Tour life was proving to be fun. For Velvet Rebellion, it meant extensive time together. Often, too much time together. The world outside was a blur of lights and shadows, but inside, the bus was an oasis of quiet disarray—a mix of scattered bags, leftover snacks, and half-empty water bottles. The rest of the band was elsewhere, chatting, winding down, or preparing for the next show. But in the back bedroom, it was just you and Natasha.

You lay on the bed, your legs intertwined, as Natasha caressed your belly. It was more soothing for her than you as she expressed her gratitude for this tour.

"I'm glad I got to do this," Natasha said, tracing invisible patterns over your skin.

"Do what?" You asked, a smile playing on your lips.

"Spend so much time with you," she whispered. "I know a lot of these days are blending now."

"It's a good kind of blending," you said. "I toured with my dad when I was a kid, but this is different."

"How?"

"I had a lot of time to hang out and have fun. Isabella enjoys the whole experience, and we have each other."

Natasha smiled. "True."

"I'm enjoying every moment with you," you said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She leaned into the touch, humming softly.

"Me too."

You leaned forward and kissed her lips, slow and tender. Her lips were soft against yours, and you savored the moment. You pulled away after a moment, smiling.

"What's on your mind?" You asked, sensing that she wanted to say something.

"We've been working so hard," she began, a thoughtful look in her eyes. "I'm glad we've found this moment. We've earned it."

"I agree," you nodded. " Thank God Wanda is our built-in childcare. She would be a great mom."

"Don't let her hear you say that," Natasha joked. "Next thing you know, she's pregnant or something."

"Would Agatha approve?"

"God no," Natasha snorted.

"Then they can be the weird aunts."

"Weird aunts?"

"Yeah, you know... the cool ones who spoil the kids and tell them all the stuff mommy wouldn't."

"They'd love that even more," She nodded. The TV blasted as the character onscreen did a bit that lasted too long for your liking.

"This TV has been playing silly cartoons for a while now," You moved to reach for the remote. It hadn't bothered you before, but now you wanted to enjoy your time together.

"No, don't turn it off," Natasha reached for your hands. "It will help the noise."

"Noise?" You raised a brow in confusion.

"You'll see."

"What are you up to, Ms. Romanoff?"

"Not much," she said, smirking.

"Liar."

"I just wanted a little alone time," she shrugged, smiling innocently.

You narrowed your eyes. "Uh-huh."

She laughed, pulled you closer, and kissed you again. "You can be quite loud."

"Me?" You gasped, feigning shock. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't play coy with me," she teased, kissing the tip of your nose.

"We can't do this," You hummed. "Everyone will know." It had been a miracle you made it this far without sex on the bus.

"You think they aren't already speculating?" Natasha said as she traced her fingers along the waistband of your sweatpants.

"Well, I didn't want them to have proof."

"I don't care if they do." She said as she nuzzled your neck. "You smell so good."

You giggled. "Really?"

"Mhmm."

Her fingers danced across your skin, teasing and tickling as she explored.

"You're not convincing me," You said through a moan as she used her other hand to pull down the front of your pants.

"What are you doing?"

"Helping you relax," she purred, lips pressing against your ear.

"Relax?"

"Yes."

"How?"

Before she could answer, there was a knock on the door. You pulled away quickly enough to see Isabella peek her head in.

"Bus beds are cramped. I want to sleep with you," She muttered as she pushed herself between you and Natasha.

"We were..." Natasha sighed.

"Were?" Isabella asked, her eyes already closing.

"I guess the fun's over," you said as you looked at Natasha.

"For now." She shook her head. "We really need those hotel rooms."

"We only have two more weeks."

"Two weeks of torture."

"It's not so bad," you chuckled.

"No," she said, smiling. "It isn't."

"I still wanna know what you were doing." Isabella cuddled into you.

"You'll find out later." Natasha quipped.

"Much later," You answered. "When you're thirty-five."

"You guys are weird," Isabella mumbled as she drifted asleep.

"We are," you said, glancing at Natasha, a soft smile tugging at your lips.

"I don't mind." She said, leaning in to press a kiss against your forehead.

"Neither do I."

You fell asleep, your body warm, your heart full. And you were grateful for every minute of it.

Morning Before the Next Show – Tour Strategy Session

Natasha sat with her legs propped on an empty chair, her sunglasses still on despite being indoors. Steve was hunched over his notebook, Bucky drummed a pen against his knee, and Wanda scrolled through her phone, occasionally tossing suggestions without looking up.

“We need to shake things up,” Steve muttered, flipping a page. “Something to make people feel like every show is different—like they’re getting something special.”

“More pyrotechnics?” Wanda suggested, glancing up briefly with a smirk.

“We’re already one spark away from burning the stage down,” Bucky shot back, earning a snort from Natasha.

Tony, pacing at the front of the room with a tablet in hand, turned sharply. “What about her?” He pointed the tablet directly at you, where you lazily sipped your coffee, not expecting to be dragged into the conversation.

You blinked. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” Tony said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re already part of the tour. The crowd eats it up whenever Natasha looks at you during a set or when you step out to fix something on stage. Why not make it an actual thing? Not just an interlude. A segment.”

The room went quiet, the idea lingering in the air like static.

Natasha finally lowered her sunglasses, her green eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “What exactly are you suggesting? We turn her into some kind of stage prop?”

“No,” Tony replied with a roll of his eyes. “I’m suggesting you lean into what’s already working. Maybe it’s an onstage Q&A segment, or she reads fan letters live. Hell, maybe she performs something with you—I don't know. Our hit song is one that she's featured on."

Bucky nodded slowly. “Could be cool. Breaks up the set, gives the fans something unexpected.”

Steve shrugged. "Why not? We'll have to figure out the details, but the concept is solid. It would work."

Natasha turned to face you, her gaze questioning.

"Up for a little on-stage action?"

"I'm game," You shrugged.

"Great. Now, let's go over the rest of the tour," Steve said, flipping to a fresh page.

Night 34 – Dallas – American Airlines Center

The crowd's roar seeped through the walls like a pulse, vibrating in your chest before you stepped onto the stage. Singing at a birthday party? Easy. Singing in an arena filled with thousands of people, blinding lights, or electric energy? That was something else entirely.

Backstage was a blur of movement—crew members adjusting cables, last-minute checks on instruments, radios buzzing with updates. But all you could focus on was the small mic pack being clipped to your bra, its weight suddenly feeling heavier than it should. Your hands felt clammy, nerves humming under your skin.

You tried to think of the things you would need to do. Where to stand on the stage, where to look, and how to sing. Your mind was blanking on everything. Then you saw her.

Across the stage, perched casually atop a random amp, was Isabella. Her oversized crew jacket nearly swallowed her whole, sleeves rolled up messily. She was chewing a piece of licorice you usually wouldn't let her have. But her eyes caught you—the same eyes that had watched you tie her shoes, fix her hair, and now stand on the brink of something terrifying. Eyes filled with adoration, persistent, as if to say, You’re already everything to me.

“You got this,” Mitch’s voice broke through, grounding you as she adjusted the earpiece.

You exhaled, nodding. “Thanks. Just as we rehearsed.”

The mic was placed in your hand, cool against your palm. You didn’t move toward the stage immediately. Instead, you crossed the short distance to Isabella, kneeling so your foreheads touched, the arena's noise fading into the background.

“Good luck, Mama,” she whispered, her tiny voice holding more power than a cheer ever could.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, blinking back the rush of emotion. Standing, you glanced over your shoulder. “Mitch, take care of my kid!” you called, tossing a playful wink back at Isabella.

With that, you stepped into position. Natasha was singing the first lyric, her voice soft and smooth. The crowd was into it, singing along like a beautiful chorus.

"I don't want to make it obvious,

Caught in the midst and can't lie.

Every touch, you make it harder for me, baby,

Go ahead and look me in my eyes,"

The lyrics left your lips quickly, and you were surprised by the strength in your voice. You kept the pace, moving from one line to the next. You had a few moments in the spotlight, and then it was Natasha's turn again.

As the song ended, you stood there, breathing heavily. You could see the fans screaming, cheering, and chanting, but it all sounded muted, like white noise.

"Let's give it up for my beautiful girlfriend,"

Natasha's words snapped you out of the daze. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, and the crowd screamed louder, a deafening roar that filled the space.

"She's not only a killer musician, she's an amazing mom. She's raising the coolest kid I've ever met," Natasha continued, her gaze meeting yours. “And she’s a pretty dope singer.” She winked. 

Your heart swelled at her words, and you couldn't help but smile. The audience continued to cheer, and you knew the following few shows would be the craziest yet.

Night 35 - Houston – Toyota Center

The show went well. Really well.

The adrenaline was still humming under your skin, even as you stepped offstage, your heart racing not from nerves this time but from the electric energy of the crowd. The Toyota Center had been packed, the lights blinding, the sound of thousands of voices blending into one overwhelming roar.

You were still slightly nervous about performing with the band again—those familiar jitters creeping in right before your cue. But Natasha had reassured you backstage, her hands gently cupping your face, her steady gaze melting the tension from your shoulders.

“It’ll be fine,” she whispered, her thumb brushing your cheek. “You’ve got this.”

She was right.

This time, as you finished your verse, the last note still lingering in the charged air, Natasha didn’t hesitate. She crossed the stage with that effortless confidence she carried like armor and pressed a kiss to your lips.

The crowd erupted.

Shouts, cheers, and whistles filled the arena, waves of excitement crashing over you both. Natasha grinned, her eyes sparkling under the stage lights as if she’d known exactly what kind of reaction that gesture would ignite.

After the final song, the band gathered center stage, taking their bows and soaking in the crowd’s roaring applause. But tonight was special—not just because of the show’s success.

Isabella was allowed to come onto the stage.

She dashed out from the wings, her little crew jacket hanging proudly off her shoulders. The crowd cheered for her just as loudly, and she beamed, standing proudly beside you.

Natasha crouched down, pulling her into a playful side hug, whispering something in her ear that made Isabella giggle. The dance crew waved her over, and without hesitation, she joined them, taking a bow like she’d been part of the show all along.

She quickly became a crew favorite—her charm was impossible to resist, and her confidence grew with each city and show.

You realized something as you stood there, hand in Natasha’s, watching Isabella bask in the spotlight's glow.

This wasn’t just another night on tour. This was a memory—a perfect, untouchable moment.

*******

Getting that hotel room was a must on your list of things to do on the tour. You were growing tired of cramped tour buses, shared bathrooms, and the constant hum of the road beneath your feet. The novelty of waking up in a different city every day had started to wear thin, replaced by an ache for a real bed, fresh sheets, and a door you could actually lock.

So, getting that hotel room proved to be a must on your list of things for the tour.

You'd had a few drinks after the show.

You didn't want to be drunk, but a bit tipsy was fun. It was nice to relax.

The elevator ride to the room seemed to take an eternity, even though it was only a few floors. When the doors finally slid open, you stepped out, fumbling with the keycard as you approached the door.

"Let me get that," Natasha said, taking the card from your hand and sliding it into the slot. Her hands were strategically placed on your hips, guiding you toward the door as it opened.

"You're drunk," Natasha laughed as she led you inside.

"Just a little."

"A little too much."

"Maybe."

The room was dark and quiet, the curtains drawn closed.

You kicked off your shoes and fell backward onto the bed, sighing in contentment.

"I could fall asleep like this," you mumbled, eyes drifting closed.

Natasha followed behind you, kicking off her boots with a groan. “I thought I’d miss the chaos,” she said, flopping onto the bed beside you. “I don’t.”

"Tour life is exhausting," You wiped your face.

"You're telling me," she sighed, stretching her legs.

"I could go for a nap."

"You and me both."

"It's a big bed."

"Yeah, but I'm not moving," She yawned, nuzzling her head into the pillows.

"I think I'll stay here too."

You didn't move, enjoying the feeling of the cool sheets and soft pillows.

“This was a good idea,” she murmured.

“Yeah,” you whispered back. "An excellent idea."

"You don't think Isabella will come knocking, will she?"

"Not with the promise of soda and a night with Wanda," You shook your head. "I'm all yours."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

Natasha's gaze drifted over your face, and a slight smirk appeared on her lips.

"What's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

"Just wondering..."

"About what?"

"If you're as tired as I am," She replied.

"Probably."

"Well, let's not waste a perfect bed," Natasha said, rolling onto her side, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin.

You raised an eyebrow, trying to keep the smirk off your face. "Or a perfect good bathtub." You pointed it out.

"Hmm," Natasha hummed, her eyes narrowing. "True."

"And there's a lot of room in there," you added, sitting up.

"It does seem like a shame to waste it."

You grinned, tugging on her hand. "Then let's not."

Natasha chuckled, following you to the bathroom, her eyes never leaving yours.

The tub was massive—the small size of a pool.

"Hotel bubble bath?" Natasha read the small bottle as you started the water.

"It'll do," You shrugged as you began to strip yourself, getting your head stuck in the shirt.

"Let me do it," She laughed as she helped you out, revealing the pout on your face.

"I'm super coordinated right now," You snorted, rolling your eyes.

"Clearly."

"Shut up," You giggled, leaning into her touch as she slowly peeled the fabric from your body.

"You're cute."

"I am."

"Let's get you cleaned up."

"Okay."

She stepped behind you, her fingers dancing over the bare skin of your back.

"We should probably get this off," She said, her voice low as she tugged on the fabric of your sports bra.

"You first."

Natasha pulled her shirt over her head, her fingers moving to the button on her jeans. You watched her, transfixed, as she unzipped them, pushing the fabric down her thighs and kicking them off.

You swallowed hard, your heart hammering in your chest.

"Now you."

You nodded, reaching for the clasp of your bra and undoing it with trembling fingers. You slid the straps from your shoulders, letting the fabric fall to the floor.

"God, you're gorgeous," Natasha whispered, her gaze raking over your body.

"You are."

"No, you," She insisted, closing the distance between you and capturing your lips in a heated kiss.

Your hands found her hips, pulling her closer as you deepened the kiss, your tongues exploring each other's mouths.

Her skin was soft against yours, her hair tickling your neck.

You let out a soft moan as she trailed kisses along your jaw, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck.

"Fuck, Nat," You whimpered, gripping her hips tighter.

"You're so fucking beautiful," She murmured, her hands cupping your breasts.

You arched into her touch, desperate for more.

"Please," You begged, your voice barely a whisper.

"Anything you want," She breathed, her lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

"I want us actually to bathe first," You whispered with a sigh.

"Right," Natasha chuckled, pulling away reluctantly.

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize," She smiled, kissing your forehead softly. "I just need a minute."

You nodded, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach.

The water was hot against your skin as you settled into the tub, the bubbles surrounding you like a cloud. She slid in behind you, her breast pressing against your back.

"I feel like I'm in the movies."

"Like a bubble bath for two."

"Exactly."

"It's perfect," Natasha said, resting her chin on your shoulder.

"Yes," You agreed, leaning back into her, your eyes fluttering shut.

"Just the two of us," She whispered, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on your thigh.

"How are you feeling?" You asked. "I know tour life has been pretty tame so far."

"Yeah, and then it gets crazy," Natasha shrugged. "This is usually when we go stir-crazy. Use things to keep us awake. Do other things."

"I see."

"It's always a struggle. Trying to keep a healthy balance," Natasha chuckled, her voice low.

"Yeah," You said, nodding. You leaned your head back to lean against her shoulder. "This is nice."

"It is," Natasha agreed, her fingers finding your skin again. "And the room is so big. We could do a lot of things here."

"What kinds of things?" You asked, trying to ignore how her fingers were making you feel.

"I was thinking," Natasha said, her voice low, "that we could start with this." She trailed her hands to your breast, tweaking your nipples with soapy water on her hands before moving lower. "Still can't believe I've had you all to myself for almost a year," Natasha murmured, her fingers circling your clit.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Natasha."

"Hmm?"

"Don't tease me," You said, a slight whine escaping your throat.

"I'm not teasing you," She said, her voice dropping lower. "I'm giving you what you want."

A small moan left your throat, your legs widening as far as they could as she pressed harder.

"Oh god," You whimpered, your breath catching in your throat.

"That's it," Natasha murmured, her fingers never stopping. "You're so beautiful."

"Nat."

"Come for me," She urged, her fingers moving faster, the water splashing around you.

Your eyes fluttered shut, your back arching as you came. You didn't hesitate to turn and straddle her lap as you came down. The feel of her breasts against yours was intoxicating.

"I've been waiting for this," You said, your voice husky.

"Me, too."

You kissed her hungrily, your hands tangling in her hair as you explored each other's bodies. Her hands moved lower, cupping your ass, pulling you closer. You gasped as she pressed her thigh against your center, the friction making you shiver.

"I want you so bad," She moaned, her fingers sliding between your folds.

"Fuck," You whimpered, your hips bucking involuntarily.

"So wet," She breathed, her thumb rubbing your clit in slow circles.

"Nat."

"That's it," She whispered, her voice strained. "Come for me. Let me hear you again, baby."

You cried out as your orgasm washed over you, your body trembling as waves of pleasure crashed through you.

"Nat," You moaned, leaning forward and burying your face in the crook of her neck.

"That was incredible," Natasha said, her breathing ragged.

"It was," You agreed, kissing her collarbone.

"We're not done," She smirked, pulling you closer.

"No, we're not." Your lips ghosted over hers.

"I want to do something," Natasha said suddenly.

"What?" You asked her, never stopping for breath as you kissed.

"Let's get married," She said. "I want to marry you." She breathed, opening her eyes as you leaned back.

"Here? In this hotel bathroom?"

"That's it," Natasha grinned, feeling at ease with your response. "No more tequila for you."

"Nat," You giggled.

"I'm serious. I want to marry you," She said.

"Yes." You answered, holding her face in your hands.

"Really?"

"Yes, yes, yes," You said. "I want to marry you."

"Wait," She kissed your lips. She stood from the tub, not even caring about the water trailing behind her as she rushed into the bedroom for her luggage. You sat back, wondering where she was going and what she was doing, before she walked back into the room with a box.

"Nat?" You questioned. "You're serious?" You gasped.

"I know this probably sucks on the scale of when to ask for marriage, but I'm afraid when my head hits those pillows, I'll fall asleep," She said. She grabbed a towel for you, helping you wrap it around your body before wrapping another around hers. "I want this."

"Natasha, yes."

"Y/n, marry me," She smiled, her eyes sparkling with joy.

"I will," You grinned, tears brimming in your eyes.

Natasha removed the ring from the box and slid it onto your finger. It fits perfectly.

"Perfect," She said, kissing your knuckles.

"It's beautiful," You breathed, admiring the sparkling diamonds. "Where did you buy this? When did you buy this?"

"The night of our first performance," She answered. "I figured you're much too boujie for Vegas."

"I am," You nodded.

"If you want, we can forget this thing that ever happened," she began. "I can plan a whole dinner. Have this big show. I can..."

"Natasha, stop," You chuckled, silencing her with a kiss. "This is perfect."

"Good."

"You're perfect."

"Well, not really," She chuckled. "But I'm working on it."

"That's all we can ask for."

"Yeah," She breathed, a content smile tugging at her lips. "You're going to marry me?"

"I am," You beamed, wrapping your arms around her neck and kissing her passionately.

"I love you."

"I love you."

You felt giddy as she led you toward the bed, her towel falling away from her body and yours quickly following. You didn't even think that neither of you was truly dry.

"Nat, the towels..."

"We'll worry about it later," She said, pulling you beside her.

"We should...get under the covers."

"Yeah, probably," She breathed, her hands roaming your body.

"Or," You smirked, your hands moving lower, "we could just stay here."

"That sounds good to me," She grinned, pulling you closer.

"Oh, I have so much to think about," You began to get excited again. "When are we doing this? Where? Isabella goes home next week. I'd want her to be there. My parents will kill me if they aren't there. How do we keep this a secret?"

"Breathe, baby," She said, her hand finding your chin and lifting it so your eyes met. "We'll figure it out. Just enjoy the moment."

"I'm getting married," You smiled, a content sigh escaping your lips.

"We're getting married."

"We're getting married."

[xxiamrainxx]

Day 10 of trying to get back into digital art!

Decided to actually finish this one before posting it, so you get another finished piece this time. This took over 9 hours of drawing time, so I really hope y'all like it.

Here we have renowned artist Ena Shinonome, from my Stained Glass Shadows AU! Yayyy!! There might be some changes to her design in the future, but I'm fairly happy with how she turned out!

I don't have a lot of things set in stone for the AU as of yet, as I'm kinda just having fun with and deciding things on the fly, but one thing I'm fairly sure of (and excited to finally share), is that I've decided to include some light magical elements! Mainly in the form of characters possessing various forms of kinesis (as I haven't really thought about it outside of that, lol), though I might try and play around with the magic system in future. I imagine most people just use their abilities in small, casual ways, since it's just a very normal part of how this world works, and Ena is no exception to that.

Speaking of, our dear painter here was born with hydrokinesis! I'll be keeping who out of the rest of the cast has powers (and what those powers are) under wraps for the time being, but you might be able to guess what two of them are just based on the AU name, lol.

I don't think I'll really be posting anything on here for the next two weeks, as I wanna try to focus on making Valentine's Day stuff, but once I'm done with that, I'll try to work on figuring out some more designs for this AU.

With all that out of the way, enjoy the drawing!

[kaythefloppa]

New Wild Kratts Special

Season 7 of Wild Kratts continues on into 2025. According to the Kratt Brothers, 6 new episodes are currently in development, including an hour-long TV movie. Although Martin Kratt said that the 200th episode would air this season, several other sources report that the season will end with 20 episodes. Which indicates that we're halfway finished with Season 7. And given how the modern seasons take 2 years to finish, the final 9 episodes of the season will most likely be released this year.

The second half of Season 7 will premiere in April of 2025. The one-hour special is the only episode on TV listings that has a title and synopsis, so we will focus on it here.

Wild Kratts: Activate Kid Power - Parts 1 & 2 - Airing Monday, April 7th, 2025

When the Wild Kratts receive an overload of calls for creature rescues, their creature power capacity fails. The team is left helpless, but soon learn that by the working with Wild Kratts Kids that Kid Power is perhaps the most amazing and effective creature power of all!

Pre-Episode Thoughts + Predictions:

Back in August, the Kratt Brothers had a Creature Heroes Foundation event in which people could send videos or pictures of them helping out animals which could potentially be used in a new special (my lazy ass didn't find the time to do this FUCK). This is definitely that special they were building up to. It's very meta, but also incredibly sweet.

Ok but I have literally been in love with this episode's concept. I always thought the idea of the Wild Kratts working with the Wild Kratts Kids would have the perfect formula for a series finale where they retire and pass on the torch to those who have learned from them over the years, and it would've been a great plot for the movie. Even though this episode isn't the series finale, it's still great that the series proper is utilizing it. Once again, Season 7 is trying a lot of interesting ideas, especially character-driven ones that feel the most appropriate.

Chris and Martin teased at grizzly bears and sea turtles appearing in the special. Initially I wasn't excited because we've seen those animals before, but knowing the main synopsis of the episode I'm now excited. It could be in similar vein to No Name Dream where we see familiar animals, but they are largely the backdrop to character-plots. Again, really nice.

Whilst I'm glad that we're getting an episode on the Wild Kratts Kids, I can't help but still feel sad. Because again, most of the WK Kids from the earlier seasons (Gavin, Ronan, Aiden, Nolan, Ellie, ect.) wouldn't be able to return with speaking noises because their actors are all grown up. So will the show age them up so that we can see them as secondary characters again? Or will they recast them with younger actors? Or will they once again be be relagated to cameos? I'm hoping that it's the first option, because it would be a really bold move for the show to do, especially in a season that they are hyping up so much.

I'm 99% positive that Paisley Paver will appear in this special. Again, I don't mind the fact that she's not a series regular after her redemption (in fact, I'm glad because it would be really distracting). But still, Our Blue and Green World was the biggest episode of the season and solely because of her redemption. And the writers have admitted to committing to this change for the rest of the series. To not follow up on it, with so much of her character to explore, and especially when we're nearing the end of the season is a crime. For this episode's plot specifically, I hope we get scenes of her helping the Wild Kratts Kids/receiving their help, and attempting to earn their trust after previously threatening their animal friends. Seeing as we've never seen the Kids interacting with/reporting Paisley ever since her introduction, it would be so interesting.

As an add-on to that last point, since pretty much all of the one-hour specials nowadays have villains in them, that means that Zach, Donita, and Gourmand will appear here right? Initially I wanted the specials this season to not have villains, but with how the direction of the show has gone in regards to Paisley's character, I'm actually hoping that they do appear and face off against Paisley. Maybe the Wild Kratts Kids come to her rescue, or better yet, the villains go after the kids, but Paisley is able to hold them off long enough for them to get somewhere safe. And maybe we could finally get our long-awaited Rex-demption arc. I don't think this could happen because it would be too much to cram into a 47 minute episode, but it seems like the perfect place to wrap up that storyline.

Will the Wild Kratts Kids get their own Creature Power Suits? I feel as though "Kid Power" will be more metaphorical than literal, but I really hope that is the case. Even though I like the idea of the WK Kids having their own Creature Power Suits, it would cheapen the lesson given that anyone in their own backyard can make a difference for the Creature World. Plus, I feel like any supporting character like say, Gavin or Paisley activating a Creature Power before Jimmy just feels wrong (once again, hoping that he activates a CPS before the end of the season).

Finally... I really hope there's not a musical number in this special. With the exception of the Blue/Green special, every single one of the musical numbers in the one-hour holiday specials have been complete ass because the actors do not have a good singing range, nor are they directed to do so, and the only one of them who is a known singer (Zachary Bennett) is somehow never called in for a professional villains' song.

Those are all of my thoughts for now. Expect the promos to arrive either at the end of this month or the start of next month.

[usoinked]

Hey sis uhhhh can I get a Drew McIntyre fanfic and make it real nasty… and oooo can I get a Damian request where he whimpering for me to be his Dom and he my Sub…. I want it nastier than coleslaw

🖤In His Black Mustang🖤 (Drew McIntyre X Black Reader)

CW: 18+ MDNI, Multiple Orgasms, Car Sex, Swallowing, Protective p in v (this time😝), Overstimulation, Choking

Word Count: 5.6k+

Drew McIntyre had always been a pillar in WWE. The Scottish Warrior feared nothing and no one. But lately, everything felt like it was starting to unfold…and not in a good way. The phone call to join the Busted Open Holiday Party podcast with Bubba Ray, Mark Henry, and a couple of other guys wasn’t something he was excited about. He reluctantly accepted, but the frustration was building up—losing to Punk at Bad Blood, the memories of the Bloodline attacks, the fact he hadn’t held a championship since 2020, and the loss of two family members had all been eating at him.

But what really gnawed at him? The silence. After Bad Blood, no one reached out—except for you. You, of all people. When he saw your name pop up on his phone, he couldn’t believe it. It had been more than 15 years since your high school graduation. Back then, you were just a classmate, someone he’d talk to now and then when there was a project or when you grabbed a quick lunch together. You weren’t close, but you were the only one to check on him during his “vacation” time after the chaos and he didn’t expect it, but he wasn’t upset either.

What did get under his skin, though, was the aftermath of the podcast. Some fans got it—he could feel that—but there were always a few who had smart comments. “Unprofessional,” they’d say. “He ain’t the only one with family to worry about.” Drew wasn’t about to scroll through that nonsense, because he didn’t care. Social media wasn’t really his thing. He posted his workout videos, occasionally trolled a little, but other than that, he wasn’t gonna let some strangers online drag his mental health down further than it already was. Drew McIntyre was gonna do whatever Drew McIntyre wanted to do. That’s how he’d had always been.

After a couple of days trying to clear his head, Drew decided he needed a change of pace. And with that pace came his 2017 Ford Mustang GT—a sleek, black beast with a roaring V8 engine that had always helped him clear his mind or cool down when things got too heavy. The classic American muscle car, with its aggressive stance and powerful presence, fit Drew’s own no-nonsense persona. But tonight, rather than drive around aimlessly, he decided to stop at a diner. As he drove, the car gleamed under the low afternoon light, Scottish tag decor on the rearview mirror catching the light as he pulled into the parking lot. He stepped out, the familiar thud of his boots hitting the asphalt, his black leather jacket swinging with his movements. His hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, strands of dark brown curling at the edges. He wore a simple black shirt, jeans, and sturdy black boots—just enough to blend in without trying too hard.

The diner had that old-school charm—small, with faded vinyl booths and a jukebox in the corner playing classic blues. The kind of place that felt like it’d been around forever, serving greasy comfort food and making you feel like you could just forget about the world for a while.

You’d already snagged a booth by the time he

arrived, staring out the window when you heard the door swing open. The soft jingle of the bell above it broke the quiet, and you didn’t have to look up to know who it was. Drew’s presence was unmistakable. A few seconds passed, then the sound of boots clicking against the floor grew louder as he made his way over.

When you finally looked up, his eyes met yours, a flicker of recognition crossing his face. A pause. Then, without missing a beat, he slid into the booth across from you before taking a second, running a hand through his hair before settling back into the booth.

“Didn’t expect you’d be the one to check in on me,” Drew muttered, his thick Scottish accent wrapping around the words like it always had, though now it had a softer edge. He gave you a small, surprised smile, the corners of his lips turning up just slightly. “Of all the folks from back then, thought maybe I’d hear from someone else.”

You blinked, shocked for a second, before a grin tugged at your lips. “Wait—you—you actually remember me?” You laughed, adjusting your glasses and crossing your arms over your chest. “Who else was gon’ check in on you? Ain’t nobody else care like that. Besides, we were acquaintances at the very least, Drew. We ain’t talked in years, but that don’t mean nothin’.” You leaned back, tapping your fingers against the table, giving him that look like he knew exactly what you meant.

He let out a short chuckle, running a hand through his hair, and for the first time in a while, his shoulders seemed to ease. “I do remember you.” His voice softened as he leaned back into the booth, the familiar weight of his words settling between you two. “But you’re right. Aren’t many people I’d expect to reach out.”

Drew’s eyes softened, as his shoulders relaxed a bit. “Well…then again maybe I haven’t made it easy to reach out.” He shook his head, his hands folding on the table in front of him. “Everything’s just… been too much.”

You nodded, picking up your fork and taking a bite of your pumpkin pie getting it down before speaking. “You always do that shit, though,” you said, grinning like you knew him inside and out. “Act like you gotta carry the world on your shoulders by yourself. But it ain’t gotta be like that all the time. You have to let people in, Drew. Ain’t nobody expect you to do all that by yourself.”

Drew sighed, leaning back in the booth, his dark eyes glancing at you. “Aye, I know. But sometimes it’s hard, y’know? The pressure. The decisions. The people who expect you to be something you don’t even feel anymore.”

You raised an eyebrow and smirked. “I get it. But you can’t run all that, either. You can walk out of that podcast, that’s cool, but running from everything else? That’s gon’ catch up with you.”

He paused, looking down at the table for a moment, before nodding. “Right. Guess you’re right about that.” His voice was quieter now, almost thoughtful. “Aye, I’ll think about it, might be over it by morning.” He glanced up at you, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You always did have a way of putting things straight to me though…I appreciate that a lot y’know.”

You shrugged, cutting into your fried chicken. “I’m just sayin’, don’t wait ‘til it’s too late. Ain’t no shame in letting people check in on you, Drew.”

You chimed before the waitress came over to take both your orders.

The waitress, a middle-aged woman with a friendly smile, approached the booth after a few minutes, pad and pen in hand. Drew looked up from the menu, giving him a nod.

“Y’alright to order, sir?” the waitress asked, his Southern drawl thick but warm.

Drew glanced down at the menu towards the drinks. then back at the waitress. "Aye, I'll take an iced tea. Sweet, if you've got it."

The waitress nodded and scribbled it down.

"Iced tea, sweet. Alright and were you ready for the food, or you need another minute?"

Drew’s gaze shifted to the menu one last time, his brows furrowing slightly as he considered his options. He was in the South for the upcoming Atlanta show, and he figured it was the perfect opportunity to indulge in something comforting. After a brief pause, he leaned back in the booth and looked the waiter dead in the eye.

“Ain’t no better time for some good Southern cooking,” Drew said, his Scottish accent rolling smoothly off his tongue. “I’ll have the fried chicken with collard greens, mashed potatoes and gravy, and some cornbread on the side. Can’t pass up on cornbread when you’re in the South.”

The waitress grinned, jotting down the order before giving a quick nod. “Coming right up, sir. You want that chicken extra crispy?”

Drew’s smile grew a little wider, his usual confidence shining through. “Aye, make it extra crispy. I need that crunch.”

The waitress grinned, jotting down the order before giving a quick nod. “Coming right up, sir. I’ll get that drink for ya, and the food’ll be out shortly.”

Drew gave her a quick nod as the waitress turned to walk away, heading toward the kitchen. The soft hum of the diner filled the air, and Drew leaned back in the booth, eyes wandering over the menu again as he waited.

A few minutes passed, and soon enough, the waitress was back with a tall glass of iced tea, condensation dripping down the sides.

“Here ya go, sir—sweet iced tea, just like you asked,” the waitress said, setting the glass down in front of Drew.

Drew took a long sip, the cold sweetness hitting him just right. “That’s the stuff,” he muttered under his breath, giving the waiter a thankful nod.

The waitress gave him a wink. “Be back with that meal in just a minute.”

Drew took another sip, relaxing into the booth, the weight of the last few days beginning to lift with the simple comfort of the drink. The moments of peace were few and far between lately, but this? This felt good.

It wasn’t long before the waiter returned, carrying a tray loaded with the food Drew had ordered. He set it down with a small flourish.

“Fried chicken, collard greens, mashed potatoes and gravy, and cornbread—extra crispy just like you wanted,” the waitress said with a smile.

Drew’s eyes immediately lit up. “Aye, that’s perfect,” he said, his voice gruff but appreciative as he took in the spread. The fried chicken looked golden brown and crispy, the collard greens steaming with a rich, tangy scent, the mashed potatoes piled high with savory gravy dripping over them, and the cornbread sitting warm and inviting on the side.

As you both ate, the conversation didn’t need to pick up again right away. The comfortable silence between you was enough, the soft clink of silverware and the low hum of the jukebox in the background creating a sense of peace. Drew’s shoulders, which had been tense all week, had begun to relax.

The food was gone quicker than either of you expected. Drew hadn’t realized how hungry he was until the warm, crispy chicken hit his stomach. The mashed potatoes were thick and creamy, soaking up the rich gravy, and the cornbread was just the right amount of sweet to balance everything else. You both sat back in the booth for a minute, catching your breath.

“You know,” Drew began, wiping his hands with a napkin and glancing at you, “this…this ain’t so bad. It’s been a while since I had a meal like this.”

You smirked, pushing your glasses up your nose as you leaned back. “Don’t act like you don’t know where the good food at. Shoulda hit me up sooner, you know.”

He chuckled, giving you a look. “Aye, maybe I should have.” His eyes softened for a second, his voice quieter now. “I appreciate you checkin’ in on me. Not a lot of folks would, not with everything I’ve been… I dunno, puttin’ out there.”

You shrugged, collecting the last of your silverware. “Don’t gotta be all ‘Scottish Warrior’ all the time, Drew. Sometimes you gotta let people be there for you, ya hear me?”

He nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Aye. I hear you.”

You both sat there for a second, letting the moment settle. The quiet wasn’t uncomfortable—just comfortable, easy. Drew glanced out the window toward the parking lot, where his black Mustang sat under the dimming sky. You followed his gaze, then looked back at him.

“You drivin’ that beast home tonight, or are you planning on doing something a little less… dangerous?” you teased, a playful grin on your face.

Drew raised an eyebrow. “Dangerous, eh? She’s just a car.” His grin stretched a little wider, though. “But aye, I was thinkin’ about takin’ a drive. Get my head clear. We could continue this conversation in the car if you want.”

“Good call,” you replied, pushing yourself out of the booth. “Yeah I don’t got nothin’ planned so I’m down.”

He paused for a moment, then gave a slight nod, standing up too. “Aye, sure. I could use the company.”

You both walked out together, the cool night air hitting your skin as Drew led the way to his car. The Mustang, black and sleek, sat there with the kind of presence only a car like that could have. You admired the little touches—Scottish tags hanging from the rearview mirror, the low rumble of the engine when Drew unlocked it.

He slid into the driver’s seat, the leather creaking under his weight, and you hopped into the passenger side. As he started the engine, the deep growl of it vibrating through the car made you grin. He put it in gear, and the Mustang rolled smoothly out of the lot.

“So, where we headed?” you asked, glancing over at him as you buckled your seatbelt.

Drew’s hands gripped the wheel with that familiar intensity, but his voice was lighter than usual. “Don’t matter. Just… somewhere quiet. We can talk or just listen to the road.”

You nodded, settling back into the seat as the engine hummed beneath you. The city lights faded in the rearview mirror, and he had you in the passenger seat, it felt just like high school when he had his dark blue 2007 GT. He’d always be the one to drive whenever you both got lunch together, a little speedy, but he never put you in harms way intentionally.

The only sound by this point was the faint sound of the radio and the tires rolling across the gravel as Drew’s mustang made its way towards the road.

As his car sped down the semi-empty road, you didn’t even notice that both your hands were a little too close to one another. From what you could remember, Drew only really liked physical touch from a small amount of people, but you were included in that circle. You hadn’t seen him in years and now was the perfect time to reconnect because you didn’t know when you’d get to see him again especially since he was always on the road. You just got really lucky this time because this Monday’s show happened to be in Atlanta, which is where you stayed.

I've been out on that open road

You can be my full time, daddy, white and gold

Singing blues has been getting old

You can be my full time, baby

Hot or cold

The car’s engine hummed along the semi-empty road, the rhythmic sound mixing with the soft pulse of the music from the speakers. It was a warm night, Atlanta’s summer air creeping through the cracked window, carrying the scent of asphalt and distant city life. The road stretched out in front of you, quiet and almost serene—just the two of you, the hum of the tires, and the occasional flicker of streetlights as you passed.

Your fingers hovered just inches away from his, the space between you a whisper, but that whisper felt louder with every second. You glanced over at Drew, his focus on the road, his hand resting casually on the wheel. You knew he didn’t like a lot of physical touch, always a little distant with others, but with you… it was different. It always had been.

You didn’t give it much thought—just a quick flicker of a decision in your mind—and then you closed the distance. Your fingers brushed, then tangled with his, the simple act feeling like both an invitation and a challenge.

Don't break me down (don't break me down)

I've been travelin' too long (I've been travelin' too long)

I've been trying too hard (I've been trying too hard)

With one pretty song (with one pretty song)

To your surprise, Drew didn’t pull away. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t even seem startled. He just glanced at you with a look that was a mix of confusion and curiosity, as if he was still trying to figure out if this was some trick or if you’d really just done what you did.

“You know I don’t really like physical touch too much,” he said, his voice low, almost contemplative.

You grinned, cocking an eyebrow as you squeezed his hand lightly. “Only from certain people, me included,” you shot back, your voice dripping with that familiar, playful boldness.

His lips twitched into a smirk, his beard shifting with the movement, and for a second, you saw that flicker of something—something old, something familiar, maybe even a little teasing—pass through his eyes. His hand slowly curled around yours, pulling you in just a bit tighter. “I wanted to see if you still remembered,” he said, the words soft, but heavy.

The car continued down the road, the miles ticking by without much more conversation, but the air between you was charged, thick with unspoken things.

I hear the birds on the summer breeze, I drive fast

I am alone at midnight

Been tryin' hard not to get into trouble, but I

I've got a war in my mind

So, I just ride

Just ride, I just ride, I just ride

He kept his eyes on the road, but you could feel him stealing glances at you, like he was trying to figure out exactly what you were doing here. You hadn’t seen Drew in years—years—but in a way, it felt like you hadn’t missed a beat. Like nothing had really changed.

“Yeah, I remember,” you said quietly, squeezing his hand once more before settling back in the seat, letting the silence hang for a bit. Your mind flickered to the past, to all the nights you’d spent together, to the way he used to laugh when you’d drag him out on some wild adventure, to how you’d always been able to read each other without words.

You could see the city lights off in the distance now, the skyline of Atlanta glowing faintly like a sea of stars. Drew didn’t say anything more, but his expression softened, a slight edge of nostalgia creeping in. The car turned off the main road, heading toward a more secluded path. The streets became quieter, narrower, until Drew slowed down, the engine quieting as he eased the car off onto a gravelly patch of land.

He parked the car with a small shift of the gear stick, and for a moment, everything went still. You could see the city sprawling beneath you, the lights of downtown Atlanta twinkling in the distance, and the horizon stretched out with that perfect mix of urban glow and natural darkness.

Drew didn’t move for a second, his hand still holding yours.

“This your secret spot?” you asked, voice low as you took in the view, knowing he was the type to find hidden gems like this, tucked away from the rest of the world.

His eyes didn’t leave the view either, but there was something in the quiet that seemed almost intimate, like he was letting you in on something. “Aye,” he said, finally looking at you. “I used to come here when I needed to think. Clear my head.” He paused, studying you closely, like he was deciding how much to share. “Used to come here with someone else, too.”

Your heart gave a small, unexpected skip at the mention of someone else. You glanced at him, searching his face for any sign of what that “someone else” meant. He didn’t elaborate, though. Just kept that same unreadable look, like he wasn’t sure how much you needed to know.

You leaned back in the seat, still holding onto his hand, the weight of the moment wrapping around both of you like a familiar old blanket. You didn’t need to press him, not yet anyway. There were still so many things you wanted to say, but for now, the city lights, the sound of Drew’s breathing, and the feeling of his hand in yours were enough. The rest could wait.

Finally, you turned your head, catching Drew’s gaze once more. “I don’t know how long it’s gonna be before I get another chance to see you like this, anything you had in mind” you questioned, teasing slightly, but truthfully it was a genuine question. You didn’t know when you’d see him again.

Drew’s smirk softened, and his thumb traced small circles over your hand. “Let’s make the most of it.” He said as you both locked eyes and the space between you two started fading…fast. You were breathing but it felt like the whole world just stopped the moment your lips connected to his. As he shifted his weight, the sounds of his leather jacket made you instinctively grab onto it with your free hand clutching it tightly beneath your palms. Drew knew how desperate you were and slowly guided you over onto his lap, your knees being on both sides of his legs as you could feel his bulge through the fabric of his black jeans. Even during all of the shifting, your mouths never let go of one another. His tongue, the mixture of saliva, and the faint taste of Wheatley Vodka accompanied the make out session you had. Your hands slowly untangled as his palms cupped your cheeks deepening the kiss you two shared. I’m really fucking kissing Drew McIntyre, but with how close you were and the friction becoming more and more heated, you were getting agitated. The fabric you both had on were in the way and it seemed that Drew felt the exact same way, because it was only for a brief moment that you both pulled away from each other. That kiss left you breathless yet wanting more at the same time as you quickly raised your arms slightly, letting your elbow rest against the ceiling of the car for a second as Drew removed your shirt, quickly pulling them back down you took off Drew’s leather jacket and his shirt tossing them both to the back. And just like that your lips were back onto each other’s again, only this time, you were the first one to take something off as you fumbled with his belt buckle for a few seconds. Being away from that kiss for even a few seconds felt criminal and you weren’t willing to pull away just to see where anything was, neither was he as you felt your lace bra come undone with a soft click.

Your breasts sprang free the moment the fabric dropped onto Drew’s chest which you quickly tossed into the passengers seat, uncaring about how sloppy the kiss was getting. Drew’s rough hands glided towards your chest before taking both your nipples in between his fingers causing a soft moan to slip from your lips. He knew exactly what he was doing by teasing you but you could play the same game, grinding your hips just above his where there was only a small amount of friction between you two. This earned a growl from Drew as you only smiled in the kiss, but he didn’t seem to be pleased in the slightest. It was almost like he could tease you but doing it back to him, was a mistake you’d end up paying for. His hands slowly pulled away from your breasts before unbuttoning your shorts, pulling your legs around where you were now in a sitting position with your legs draped across the passenger seat. “Take ‘em off” he instructed but his voice was firm, a command you knew you would follow regardless of what your mind told you. You quickly slipped off your sneakers before pulling off your shorts and panties along with them.

While you were busy doing that, Drew had slid his pants pants down just past his knees before tugging at the fabric of his boxers, sliding them down as well just in time for you to turn around and be met with a mouth watering sight. His hairy chest accompanied with a happy trail that lead directly to his dick had your eyes locked in place. Your pussy jumped in anticipation as your hands found their way over to the hard, veiny muscle between his legs. It was thick and the more your hand wrapped around it and moved up and down, the more desperate you became. You knew using a condom was a smart decision, but the thought of being filled with Drew’s dick, in his black mustang, while his hands were wrapped around you were enough to send the thought away. But you were smart enough to know better…for now.

“You got condoms don’t you?” You questioned before biting your lip as if contemplating your decision to use them but you decided to go with it. “Look in the glove compartment” he said while looking directly at you, his blue eyes baring into your dark brown ones making you really question that decision. If you looked at him any longer you could see yourself risking it all, prompting you to quickly turned away before opening the glove compartment and taking out a Trojan magnum XL, yanking it open with the pull of your teeth. With a swift motion, you pulled your hand away from Drew’s cock taking the condom out of the wrapping before discarding the wrapping somewhere in the car for now. “Oh? Someone doesn’t want any happy accidents, do they?” He teased as he felt the wet latex cover his muscle before pulling you back onto his lap. “Hell no, but if you keep talking to me like that we just might have one.” You cooed before grabbing both sides of his face, his beard feeling rough against your hands but the latex rubbing against your folds only made the space between you two unbearable.

As if you both had the same idea, your lips connected once again as your hands wrapped themselves around his neck pulling him closer. While you were distracted with playing tongue hockey, he took the opportunity to reach below you and position his dick right where it needed to be before pushing in causing a gasp to escape from your lips before a look of satisfaction appeared in your eyes. Drew didn’t want to waste any time and neither did you which is why just as quick as he entered you, you were already moving your hips against his. Drew leaned his seat back slowly while watching the scene unfold in front of him, your hands slowly unraveling from around his neck and making their way to his chest.

Your insides pushed inward towards the latex, tightening around him as gasps of pleasure slipped from you each time his dick pushed against your insides. “You’re a tight one aren’t you, squeezin’ me” he commented in a low hiss while admiring how hard your nipples got, the faint streetlights from the outside crossing over to highlight your nipples perfectly. Your body was like a temple for this man, his hands were all over it but to him everything about you was too perfect to not be touched. The veins in his hand became more prominent as his grip around your breast tightened, his thumbs flickering over your nipples causing your back to arch slightly.

“D-Drew…” you whispered before starting to slam your hips down against his making the friction inside of you increase and the feeling of your insides get warmer. Your pussy was only getting wetter and wetter by the second the more your hips made contact with his and the deeper he pushed into you. Despite this latex being in the way, you wanted all of him, down to the base. “Beautiful and desperate”, he hummed as he kneaded your breasts before pulling you down closer to his chest just enough to have your breast right in his face. His tongue slid over one of your nipples before taking it into his mouth completely while using his other hand to slowly slide around your back and down to your ass before smacking it once causing you to cry out. Without a second thought, Drew suddenly began to thrust upward, his hand staying on your ass for a little stability. But the rougher his thrusts got, the more erotic your face became especially with how deep he was going and you just couldn’t get enough of it.

The sweat droplets that covered his hairy chest, how his hair became messy as strands started sticking to his forehead because of the work he was putting in, as well as how rough his palms were gripping your ass like no tomorrow sent shivers down your spine. “Look at you, how tight this cunt is for me.” His Scottish accent was thick with seduction and need as your moans and his groans filled the car. “Ughnnn! Right t-there!” you screamed out as you rotated your hips against his, matching his thrusts. Your insides being hit in different directions by his cock made it all the more pleasurable, especially when he brushed over that spot causing your body to shudder. “I knew you’d be good for me, you’re exactly where I want you, understand me?” He whispered in your ear before as his hands squeezed your hips leaving imprints from his hands but you were into much bliss to care. As your hips slammed against his and you could feel the latex pushing up against your g spot, you could only throw your head back in pleasure not wanting this feeling to leave. “F-Fuck! D-Drew hit that fucking spot again! I’m gonna c-cum!”

“Oh yeah?” He questioned before taking a fistful of your dreads into his hands before tugging on them. “Show me sweetheart” his accent was thicker and his voice was around one octave lower than normal. That combined with the hair pulling made you go mad as you felt yourself spill all over the latex. “S-Shit! Don’t f-fucking stop!” You pleaded as Drew kept at it, loving the overstimulation, but this gave Drew an idea. “If I stop, it’ll be to give you something better. Still don’t want me to stop?” He spoke lowly into your ear leaving you to make a decision.

As much as you didn’t want him to stop bouncing you, you were curious on what he meant about giving you something better. “Just say the word Y/N” he said holding your hips in place stopping you from rotating them, to where he had full control before rotating them agonizingly slow. “S-Stop”, you muttered before Drew only gave a smirk in response and opened the car pulling you off of him for a quick second before stepping out of the car carefully and bending you over forcing your head into the drivers seat. “That’s much better, look at this view.” He commented before you felt a sharp pain on your right ass cheek causing a moan to erupt from you. It was painful, but it was also pleasurable. But before you could relish in that too much, you felt him enter you again, and surprisingly even though the door was open and technically this was in public, that was the last thing on your mind. As your body jolted forward with each thrust and your legs began to slightly shake, you couldn’t help but let your eyes roll back. As his cock was burying deeper and deeper into your insides, his hands found their way around your throat pulling your head up and making you face him neck exposed and posture compromised, the power dynamic being unmistakable in the way you looked up with a mix of tension and submission.

You could only let out gasps of pleasure completely as your body kept jolting forward from Drew’s hips hitting against yours repeatedly. “Aye, I told you, I’d give you something way better didn’t I?”he cooed as you could only roll your eyes back in response as you felt his cock start to nail your g-spot over and over again causing your legs to tremble as you let yourself go all over him once again. “Mmm! C-Cum i-inside me, give it to m-me p-please!” You begged completely forgetting the fact that he had a condom on.

Drew being the sly man he is didn’t remind you but instead gave a deep chuckle before it turned into a growl as his thrusts became more rough and primal as if he was taking ownership of the body beneath him. The look on his face said it all as his grip around your throat tightened, his fingers made their way into your mouth forcing it open and his hips slammed against your again letting out his seed into the latex inside of you. A drawn out moan accompanied him as he pulled out and slammed back in again causing your legs to give out, he was the only thing holding you up by this point. You were drooling all over his fingers and your body was spent.

After taking some time to catch your breath you could only look at him desperately with pleading eyes. Your hands gripped onto his wrists as his fingers slowly pulled out of your mouth, you could only bite your lip trying to give him a hint at that you weren’t ready to be done.

“You want Round 3 don’t you?”

“Oh definitely but Drew” you cooed. “This time with the condom off”, you whispered before moving your hips back and forth slowly teasing him further.

Oh boy…. ᡣ𐭩

A/N: I don’t know I do this bro…literally screaming and kicking my feet😭😗

A/N #2: Imma be real friend, that Damian one gonna take a minute but I will get to it😭

Divider Credits: @iwonbin & @aquazero

Taglist: @luvrgirl4roman @luvrsluxe @mselenalovebug @punksyeet @binnieaddict @sheaabuttaababyy @empressdede @uceyliyahh