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crossfandomskylines · 3 days ago

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Backseat Fever

Summary: Award season is in full swing, and Hollywood’s golden boy, Glen Powell, is at the center of it all. By his side? You. The woman who’s captured his heart. From the flashing lights of the red carpet to the electrifying energy of the after party, Glen keeps you close. But behind the glitz and glamour there’s a different kind of tension building, one that crackles like electricity between you. And when the night winds down and the two of you are finally alone…well, some things just can’t wait until you’re back at the hotel.

Warnings: 18+. 🍸Alcohol Use. 🔥Explicit Sexual Content. (Fingering, Semi Public Nudity, sex in the backseat of a car, Unprotected PinV). 🔥Semi Public Intimacy (They get a little frisky in a bathroom and have sex in a car.)

Word Count: 9,417 (I don't even know what to say about this. 9k words of pure filth.)

A/N: Thank you to @hunterthecharmer for giving me the idea for this one (and for giving me the blessing to go ahead and write this). I really hope I did your idea justice. And yes I am still not over the look we got at the GG so of course I had to use that in this story. Also this story is basically pure filth and I swear I had an out of body experience writing this because I’ve never felt this confident writing smut, nor have I ever written something this long in once sitting. (I started working on this starting this morning after getting the okay from Hunter and spent most of today working on it.) I blame it on ovulation and not having a release for all those hormones on the smut for everything that happened in this story.

The hotel suite is bathed in a soft light as the afternoon sun shines in through the window. Outside the muted hum of cars passing by can be heard, but it’s mostly drowned out by the low music playing in the suite. Your hair cascades in soft waves down your back as the stylist’s fingers curl each section. The makeup artist in front of you hums quietly to herself as she applies the finishing touches of your look.

Your eyes move to where Glen is lazily lounging on the bed nearby. He’s already in his tuxedo pants and a charcoal colored silk shirt is stretched across his frame. He has the sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms as his fingers move idly against his phone.

“Do you always take this long to get ready or am I distracting you?” Glen teases, his voice smooth and warm like honey, as he looks up and catches your gaze.

You roll your eyes. “I’m just making sure that you’re not the only one that turns heads tonight.”

He raises an eyebrow as the corners of his mouth curve into a half-smile. “Don’t think you need to worry about that, sweetheart. I think I’ll need to fight off half the room with the way you’re looking.”

A few minutes later both the hair and makeup artists are finished with your look. You make your way into the bathroom and gently close the door behind you. You glance at the dress hanging on the shower rod. It’s a shimmering Elie Saab gown in tones of gold and silver, the slit running high up your thigh. It was a gift from Glen or more accurately a recommendation from his stylist that Glen paid for, the dress designed to complement Glen’s look perfectly.

You slip your hands into the fabric of the dress and admire it as you pull it off the hanger. The weight of it is luxurious against your fingers and the fabric glides easily as you step into it. It’s tailored to fit you perfectly, and hugs your curves in all the right ways. But the last step of putting it on, the zipper, proves to be a challenge.

You hesitate knowing it’s a one of a kind dress and not wanting to tear it by jerking on the zipper too hard. And truthfully, a small part of you doesn’t mind asking Glen to help you.

“Glen, can you help me with the zipper?” You call out as you crack the bathroom door open just an inch or two.

He glances up at you and immediately stands up. He makes his way into the bathroom, softly closing the door behind him. You turn away from him, your back now facing him.

There’s a long pause before he smirks. “Need some help, huh?”

You turn your head just enough to meet his gaze, your lips curving into a sly smile. “Wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”

His fingers reach out and brush over your skin as he takes the zipper in his hand. You can feel the heat of his body close behind you. The scent of his cologne hits your nose, notes of sandalwood and vanilla but something deeper and richer that you can’t quite identify is there too.

Your heart skips as he starts to slide the zipper up, but then he stops. You can feel the slight shift in his posture, and the way his breathing catches just the slightest.

“Damn…” he mutters, his voice low and hushed almost like he’s saying it to himself.

You glance at him over your shoulder with an eyebrow raised and a smirk on your face. “What?”

His eyes lock with yours before his gaze lowers just enough to catch a glimpse of the lingerie set you’re wearing underneath - a delicate black lace set he bought you a few months ago. A set that you purposely planned to wear tonight.

His lips curve into an almost devilish smile as he looks at your eyes again. “Sweetheart, that’s just cruel.”

You let out a soft laugh, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks, but you refuse to let it faze you. “What, you don’t like it? I thought you liked this set.”

His fingers tighten slightly around the zipper, pulling it up just a little more. “Oh, I like it. I just might not be able to focus on anything else knowing this is what you’ve got on underneath.” As he says it his voice drops an octave, edged with something darker.

Once the zipper is fully secured Glen steps back, his fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary against your back. A teasing smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, but before he can say anything your gaze flickers towards the vanity. Sitting there glinting under the lights is the necklace he gave you for Christmas last year. A delicate piece made of fine yellow gold with a small but beautiful diamond. It’s understated yet elegant, which is what you loved about it. You’re secretly a little happy that the Glen’s stylist chose that piece in particular to pair with your dress for the evening given the sentimental meaning behind it.

“Can you put this on for me?” You ask picking the necklace up and turning to face Glen.

His expression softens as he takes it from your hands. “Of course.”

You gather your hair, lifting it off your neck as he steps behind you. His fingers brush against your skin as he secures the clasp, and the warmth of his hands sends a shiver down your spine. Instead of stepping away immediately he lingers, letting his hands drift down to your shoulders.

“You look beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice a low rasp in your ear. Then he presses a lingering kiss to the curve of your shoulder, his lips warm against your skin.

You exhale as the heat of the moment settles between you as his arms slip around your waist from behind. He pulls you closer, his chest flush against your back as his thumbs idly stroke over the fabric of your dress.

“You know,” he whispers, his tone laced with something dark. “If you wanted me to take this dress off you later, all you had to do was ask. You didn’t have to tease me like this.”

You bite your lip, tilting your head slightly to meet his gaze in the mirror. “And here I thought you liked when I tease you.”

His smirk widens, fingers flexing against your waist before he finally releases you with a reluctant sigh. “You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart.”

You turn, smoothing your hands over his silk shirt before adjusting the collar. “Only because I know you’ll play along.”

He chuckles as he shakes his head, and his hands settle at your hips.

“Behave for me tonight,” he says as his thumb brushes over your hip bone, just barely grazing the slit of your dress as he leans in and brings his mouth to your ear. “And then I promise I’ll give you whatever you want when we get back.”

With one final glance, he turns and makes his way out of the bathroom. You take a deep breath and then follow behind him.

You take a seat on the edge of the bed, reaching for the heels that Glen’s stylist had chosen to finish your look for the event. But before you can slip them on, Glen is already in front of you sinking onto one knee. His fingers brush against your ankle as he takes the first heel from your hands.

“Let me,” he says softly, sliding the shoe onto your foot.

His gaze flicks up to yours, a knowing smirk playing on his lips as he secures the strap.

You swallow, watching as he repeats the motion with the other shoe, his fingers grazing along the curve of your calf before he finally leans back on his heels.

“Perfect fit, Cinderella.” His voice is warm and rich, with just the hint of something more playful lingering just beneath the surface.

Before you can respond, he pushes himself to his feet in one smooth motion and turns toward the suite’s open closet. He shrugs into the jet black velvet tuxedo jacket, the fabric seemingly molding perfectly to his broad shoulders as he adjusts the cuffs. There’s something about the way he carries himself with an effortless confidence that makes you stare for a second longer than you probably should.

Glen catches you staring. A smirk returns to his lips, slow and smug, and he moves toward you extending a hand. “You ready, sweetheart?”

You place your hand in his, and he helps pull you effortlessly to your feet. You slide your arm through his to ensure you keep your balance as you walk.

“Ready,” you say as you let him start to lead you toward the door.

As the two of you step into the hallway the energy between you changes slightly. The night is only just beginning and yet you already know neither of you will be able to keep your hands off each other.

Glen’s hold on you remains firm yet easy, his fingers brushing lightly over your knuckles as you approach the waiting car once you’re downstairs. The driver moves to open the door, but Glen is a second too quick. He takes a step forward and pulls the door open himself and then extends a hand toward you.

“After you, sweetheart.” His voice is warm, edged with amusement, but there’s something deeper in his gaze as he watches you step forward.

You slide into the plush leather seat, the slit of your dress shifting as you settle, baring nearly the full length of your leg. Glen eases in beside you and pulls the door shut behind him.

The car hums to life, the city lights outside casting fleeting shadows across his sharp features. Glen’s eyes sweep over you, lingering where the gown parts at your upper thigh. A quiet exhale slips from his lips, his palm finding your leg with an easy familiarity. His fingers press lightly as he starts tracing absentminded circles of your skin.

He leans in, the warmth of his breath tickling your ear as he murmurs, “I should tell you to behave tonight…” his voice then drops an octave. “But we both know you won’t.”

A slow knowing smirk tugs at your lips. You turn your head slightly, meeting his gaze beneath the soft glow of the passing streetlights. “I promise not to do anything your PR team will have to handle tomorrow.”

Glen chuckles a deep husky sound that vibrates through the space between you. His fingers tighten slightly against your thigh before he leans back, stretching an arm along the back of the seat.

The air outside the car is filled with electricity as the car pulls into the long procession of sleek black vehicles, each one filled with celebrities and their teams preparing for their turn on the red carpet. Camera flashes flicker in the distance, a chaotic yet dazzling rhythm of cameras waits outside.

Glen’s thumb strokes idly against your thigh, his grip still warm and firm. He glances out the tinted window, his expression easy, but you can tell from the way his fingers tap against your skin that he’s ready to get out of the car.

After several minutes your car inches forward, and it’s finally yours and Glen’s turn. The driver steps out first, moving around to the side of the car facing the red carpet. The door swings open and Glen steps out first. He nods to the driver and thanks him with a polite nod before turning his full attention to you.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he offers you his hand. His fingers close securely around yours, guiding you out with a level of care that makes your pulse race in your veins.

The moment you step onto the carpet a wave of flashing cameras erupt around you. Photographers call Glen’s name, their voices blending with the hum of the event. Glen’s hand slides to your lower back with a possessive warmth that grounds you amid the chaos.

His agent appears from the side, flashing a practiced smile as he steers you both toward the first stop on the carpet. Glen moves effortlessly, but even as the cameras and lights demand his attention, his focus remains on you.

You feel his gaze before you turn your head. When you do turn and meet his gaze his eyes are dark and filled with something you can’t quite pinpoint. He leans in, close enough that only you can hear him. “You’re making it impossible to look at anything but you.”

A smile tugs at your lips. You shift slightly, your hand rising to rest lightly against his chest. His shirt is already unbuttoned at the top two buttons, revealing just enough of his chest hair and the gold necklace he has on.

Your fingers hover over the third button, the pad of your fingertip barely brushing it. To the cameras and anyone watching it looks like you’re simply smoothing out his shirt in a casual gesture. But Glen knows better. His body tenses just slightly, his breath catching for half a second. His gaze sharpens, the ghost of a smirk playing at his lips. But he doesn’t move. He just watches you, waiting to see if you’ll actually do it.

But you don’t. Instead you drag your fingertips over the fabric once more, feigning innocence before resting your hand lower against his stomach.

Glen’s jaw flexes for the briefest moment, but then he regains his composure and slips effortlessly back into that easy charming persona as the cameras flash again.

After the final interviews are done and the last of the camera flashes are snapped you and Glen are guided inside by his manager. Inside the venue, the atmosphere is intimate. Low flickering candlelight from the centerpieces on each table reflect off of the crystal glassware, the quiet hum of conversation blends with the soft notes of the music playing overhead. The gold sequins of your gown catch the light as you settle into your seat beside Glen. His presence is warm and familiar next to you.

His hand finds your thigh almost immediately, fingers resting just beneath the slit of your dress on your thigh. It’s nothing overt or inappropriate, just a familiar touch between partners.

At least, that’s how it starts. Glen is effortlessly charming as he talks with the others at the table. He laughs at a particular joke from someone across from him at the table, engaging in conversation as though he’s completely at ease.

But every so often his fingers tighten against your skin in a slow, possessive squeeze that makes your breath hitch. He plays it cool though, never letting on that his focus is split between the discussion at the table and the slow absentminded circles his thumb is tracing on the inside of your thigh.

You take a slow sip of your wine, the deep red coating your lips. Then you lean in slightly. The movement shifts your dress in a way you know Glen notices, offering the faintest peek at the top of the lace strapless bra you both know is underneath. His hand tightens just barely on your thigh.

Your voice is barely more than a whisper, meant only for him. “You’re awfully quiet tonight, babe. Something distracting you?”

Glen doesn’t answer right away. His expression doesn’t even shift. If someone were watching the two of you right now, they’d see the same composed, award winning smile he’s worn all night.

But under the table his fingers start to slide higher, his touch slow and deliberate, teasing at something for too bold for a setting like this where a camera could be on the two of you at any given moment. Your breath catches and your gaze flicks to him. His eyes are locked on you now, dark with amusement.

And then, just as his fingertips dare to brush higher, just as heat starts to pool low in your stomach…someone at the table calls his name, pulling him back into conversation.

His hand stops its movement, sliding back down just enough to keep things appropriate. But you catch the smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he turns back to the discussion at the table.

The venue is buzzing with excitement as the 2025 Golden Globes officially kicks off. The stage is bathed in warm golden light, the audience a sea of glamorous gowns and sharp tuxedos. Glen sits beside you, one arm draped casually along the back of your chair, his fingers idly tracing the bare skin of your shoulder.

Nikki Glaser takes the stage with ease, her opening monologue sharp and quick witted, sending waves of laughter through the audience as she points out several celebrities in attendance.

You’re sipping from your champagne flute when she suddenly shifts her attention to Glen. “Glen, you were in everything this year…Hit Man, Twisters…my head when I’m having sex with my boyfriend.”

The room erupts into laughter, a mix of surprised gasps and delighted applause. Glen, ever the good sport, flashes a grin and shakes his head slightly as the camera captures his reaction.

You’re laughing too. But then the way he takes it in stride, not letting it fluster him, sparks an idea. As soon as the camera moves away from him you lean in. Close enough that your lips almost brush the shell of his ear.

“Funny,” you murmur, voice low enough for only him to hear. “Because you’re in my head when I’m touching myself.”

Glen inhales sharply through his nose, his jaw tightening. The subtle movement is barely noticeable to anyone else, but you catch it. His fingers twitch against the skin of your back as if resisting the urge to react.

You let the words settle. Then as if nothing happened, you press a soft, lingering kiss to the edge of his jaw, letting your lips brush just enough to make his pulse jump.

To the outside world, it’s nothing more than an affectionate moment between a couple…just you whispering something sweet to your boyfriend before kissing him.

But Glen knows exactly what you’re doing. And judging by the way he exhales again, slow and controlled as he shifts slightly in his seat, you know it’s working.

Satisfied, you smile against his skin before pulling back, returning your attention to the stage as if you hadn’t just began to unravel him with a single sentence.

Nikki’s monologue ends and the applause fades as the first presenters takes the stage. But Glen still hasn’t fully recovered from your whispered confession. You can feel the tension in his body. The way his fingers flex subtly against the back of your chair, his breathing just a little deeper than before.

Then, as the announcer reads off the nominees for the award, Glen leans in. His voice is even, but there’s an edge to it. “I’m gonna hit the restroom,” he murmurs. “You want anything from the bar on my way back?”

You turn to him feigning innocence, and your lips curving into a knowing smirk. “Another glass of champagne would be perfect. Thank you, babe.”

He nods, but just as he stands and steps away from the table you catch it. The quick yet subtle movement of his hand adjusting the front of his dress pants as he disappears into the hallway.

Satisfaction hums through you. You lift your nearly empty flute to your lips, holding your smirk behind the rim as you take another sip as you settle back into your seat.

A few minutes later Glen still hasn’t returned. You glance at the hallway and then back at your table. You politely excuse yourself before slipping into the hallway.

The hallway is a quiet, stark contrast to the hum of conversion and laughter that spilled from the ballroom where the award show was taking place. Your heels click softly against the polished floor as you head to the end of the hallway where the restrooms are.

Just as you reach for the door handle of the ladies’ room, the men’s room door wings open. Glen steps out, his shoulders broad in the jet black tuxedo, his hair slightly mussed like he ran a hand through it in frustration after leaving the ballroom.

But it’s his expression that stops you in your tracks. The way his gaze locks onto you.

You don’t have a moment to even react before his fingers curl around your wrist, and in one fluid motion, he pulls you into the women’s restroom. The door clicks shut behind you, and your back meets the cool wood as Glen presses close. Glen fingers slide the lock into place before his hands brace on either side of you, caging you in. The air crackles between you, thick with everything unspoken.

He leans in, his lips brushing just below your ear as he exhales, his voice low and laced with amusement. “You like driving me insane, don’t you?”

A small smile tugs at your lips before you pull your bottom lip between your teeth. You let your fingers trail down the front of his shirt, hovering just above the third button from the top before smoothing over the fabric.

“Maybe just a little.”

His laugh is quiet but rough as he exhales through his nose. But then he’s kissing you. It’s hungry and impatient, like he’s been waiting all night for this. His hands find your waist, fingers pressing into the fabric of your dress as he deepens the kiss, his body warm against yours.

The sound of footsteps echoes faintly from outside the door, and it’s enough to break the spell. Glen pulls back just enough to look at you, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. His breathing is uneven, but there’s a teasing glint still there.

“As much as I’d love to keep going,” he murmurs, “we should probably head back before someone comes looking for us.”

You let out a breathy laugh knowing he’s right. But as Glen takes a step back and you both straighten your clothes like nothing happened, you catch the way Glen’s jaw tightens when he looks at your lips, like he’s still thinking about the way they felt against his.

You’re just starting to catch your breath when Glen’s phone buzzes loudly in his pocket. His expression shifts as he pulls it out and looks at the screen.

“I need to take this,” he murmurs holding a finger to his lips as if warning you to stay quiet.

He takes another step back, answering the call with a curt professional tone. You can barely make out the voice of his agent on the other end, but as Glen’s nodding along his gaze never leaves you.

After a moment, he pulls the phone away from his ear. “Yeah, I’ll be right back in. She had a…wardrobe malfunction,” he smirks as if he’s dealing with a minor inconvenience. “We have it taken care of, no worries. Give me sixty seconds and I’ll be right there.”

Glen looks at you for a beat, his expression softening as he steps closer. “You okay with me heading back in? They need me for something.”

You nod quickly, giving him a smile that’s more genuine and supportive than any of the others you’ve given him tonight. “Thanks for the help with the zipper,” you say, your words thick with playful innuendo.

His lips twitch for just a second. He glances toward the door, and then takes a deep breath.

“Of course. Wouldn’t leave you hanging.” He grins at the subtle double meaning before straightening up and heading back towards the ballroom.

The door clicks shut behind him, and you’re left standing in the ladies’ restroom, an impish smile playing at your lips. Because you both knew this wasn’t the last of your teasing for the night.

Back in the ballroom the atmosphere is still buzzing with excitement. The laughter and clinking of glasses mix with the soft hum of conversations that fill the room. But for you it feels quieter as you settle back into your seat next to Glen.

Glen is quiet for the first few minutes after you return. His hand rests gently on your thigh, his thumb drawing slow absent minded circles over the fabric of your gown. It’s less of a possessive touch than earlier, more like a subtle yet comforting reminder of his presence. His gaze flickers over to you as you sip your champagne, eyes warm with a tenderness that matches the calmness that’s overtaken him.

“Are you okay?” Glen’s voice is low enough that only you hear, almost as if he’s checking in on you after all the teasing that had unfolded throughout the evening.

You nod and offer him a soft smile that’s a mixture of affection and gratitude. “I’m fine just…taking it all in,” you murmur, your hand reaching up to smooth a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

Glen’s smile is small but genuine. He leans in slightly, his lips brushing your temple in the most casual of kisses. The gesture isn’t some public display, it’s just for you. And you know that. It’s a reminder that no matter how much you tease each other, there’s a deeper connection that holds you together.

“Good,” he says softly.

You smile, catching the way his thumb continues to trace along your leg, gentle but firm as he offers you reassurance. Over the next half hour, despite the attention on him like his name being called for several photos or other actors, actresses, and directors finding their way to your table to chat with Glen, he keeps a small part of his focus on you. Whether it’s his arm draped protectively around the back of your chair or his hand on your thigh, there are subtle reminders to you that he’s there.

It’s moments like this, when you truly see a side of Glen that few others do. Even when he’s the confident and playful man everyone else sees, a part of him is still right there with you. He’s attentive and undeniably present as his hand stays on you.

After the award show you step out into the cool night air. The crowd outside the venue is beginning to thin, and the flashing lights of cameras dim as the chaos of the evening starts to subside. The contrast between the glamor of the show and the calm that begins to settle around you is almost surreal.

Glen’s hand is warm on your back as he leads you to the car. His steps are confident and steady. The door to the car is already open when you reach it, and Glen helps you slide in with the kind of gentlemanliness that you’ve come to love in Glen.

The car hums to life and the city lights start to streak past as the vehicle pulls onto the street. Inside the atmosphere is quieter, the tension of the night melting away. For the first time all evening you let your guard down, and lean into Glen’s side. The faint scent of his cologne is mixed with the crisp air coming in from outside where the window is cracked. The air settles around you and you find yourself breathing a little easier.

Glen notices immediately, his arm gently wrapping around you to pull you closer. “You okay, sweetheart?”

He knows how draining these events can be, especially to you who isn’t used to it yet. He’s been through them a thousand times before, but it’s different for you. The flashing cameras, the endless small talk and mingling, the constant attention…it can be overwhelming.

You nod slowly, closing your eyes for just a moment. The exhaustion starts to creep up on you now that the adrenaline has started to wear off. “Just a lot. You know how overwhelming these things can be,” you murmur in a volume that’s just above a whisper as you press yourself a little further into his side, seeking the calm you always seem to find in him.

Glen looks down at you, his expression softening and concern flickering in his eyes. “I can have the driver take us back to the hotel if you want. We don’t have to go to the after party if you’re not feeling it.”

You know his offer is genuine, but you can’t bring yourself to take it. You know how important the after party is for him to network and meet others in the industry. You just need a minute, another moment of peace before facing the chaos again. And then you’ll be okay and ready for the next stop of the night.

Shifting slightly you look up at him, your voice quiet but filled with sincerity. “Just hold me for a minute, yeah?”

It’s simple, but the request means everything. Glen nods without hesitation, a small smile tugging at his lips. He pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you protectively as you settle into his embrace. The car ride, the noise of the night, and the rest of the world all fade into the background as Glen holds you, the steady beat of his heart a grounding presence beneath your cheek.

For a moment there’s no red carpet, no cameras, no crowds. Just the two of you in the quiet of the car, sharing something far more intimate than anything the public could ever see.

The after party is a completely different world. The buzz of excitement from the award show has transformed into an electric energy that fills the entire venue. The music is loud and pulses through the air. The space is alive, full of laughter, clinking glasses, and filled with well dressed guests mingling.

Glen stays close to you, his presence steady by your side as you navigate the crowd. He talks to a few people, exchanging polite words with other actors, producers, and directors. But his eyes are constantly flicking back to you.

He’s aware of the ever watchful eyes around you both. The buzz from the whirlwind year he had in 2024 has left the media and the fans hungry for any new details about him. Add in the fact that your relationship is still fresh enough to be interesting, and it’s like you’re a constant topic of conversation in any room you’re in.

You catch him glancing at you every so often, a quiet smile tugging at the corners of his lips. It’s like a silent agreement between the two of you. You’re here for the networking that Glen’s manager wants him to do, but neither of you can quite keep your focus entirely on anything other than each other.

At one point you stand at the edge of the dance floor,and Glen’s gaze shifts as the beat of the music picks up. Without a word he takes your hand, his fingers curling around yours. He gently tugs you toward the center of the floor, and you follow, your heart picking up its pace as you leave the edge of the room behind.

Once you're in the midst of the dancing crowd, Glen’s hand slides to your lower back, pulling you closer until your bodies are nearly pressed together. The heat from his touch sends an immediate rush of warmth through you. The proximity makes everything feel heightened, every brush of his skin against yours sending sparks of electricity through you.

His lips hover near your ear, his voice low and suggestive as he speaks, just loud enough to be heard over the music. “You look so damn good tonight, baby.”

His mouth is still near your ear, and his next words are even more suggestive, a whisper that sends a chill down your spine. “You’re killing me, you know that? Every time you touch me, I feel like I’m about to lose control.” His breath is warm against your skin, the words almost a promise, a warning.

The subtle shift in his touch sends a thrill through you, your own body responding to the heat building between the two of you. You lean into him and feel the hard press of his chest against yours, and you can’t help but push back against him just a little, teasing him with every move.

Each time you “accidentally” brush against him, his grip tightens. The pressure on your lower back sharpens, his hands now bold as they slide around your waist. The energy between you two builds with each passing second, like an unspoken game that neither of you wants to end.

The music continues to pulse around you, bodies swaying in the dim light, the room alive with energy. But all you can focus on is Glen. You lean into him, the warmth of his body a steady presence behind you. His hands find their place on your hips, holding you close, his fingers brushing over the fabric of your dress. The closeness feels intoxicating.

With a playful smirk, you decide to test the limits. You spin in his arms, your back now pressed against his chest. The action is fluid, and before you know it you’re tucked into him, your head resting against his chest.

You can feel his breath catch, his body stiffening for just a moment. His lips hover near your ear, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. The press of his body against yours becomes undeniable now. There’s no mistaking what’s happening. His tuxedo pants tighten at the front, a subtle shift that makes you smirk to yourself. Because you know exactly what you’re doing to him.

Your fingers reach up behind you and graze over the hair at the nape of his neck, barely brushing the collar of his shirt as your lips curve into a mischievous grin. You stay like that for a moment, enjoying the power you have over him, the way his breath quickens, how his grip on you tightens just slightly as if trying to control himself.

But then, just as you’re about to lean in and whisper something playful back, his voice comes out low and commanding, the heat in it unmistakable. “We need to get out of here. Now.”

Glen doesn’t give you a moment to respond, his hand gently but firmly pressing against your lower back as he guides you through the crowd. His touch feels urgent, yet controlled. You can feel the eyes around you, the whispers of the people still enjoying the party, but none of it matters. All that matters is the man beside you guiding you toward the exit.

When you reach the doors, Glen’s hand slips to the small of your back, urging you forward. You glance up at him, heart pounding, his expression a perfect mix of hunger and determination. Without a word, he opens the car door and helps you inside, his hand still lingering on your waist as he follows you in. The moment the door closes behind you, the tension that had been building throughout the night snaps.

Before you can fully settle into your seat, Glen is already there, his lips crashing against yours with a desperation that leaves you breathless. It's fierce, unrestrained, and everything you’ve been craving since the moment you stepped into that ballroom. His hand moves to cradle your jaw, holding you firmly in place, while the other slides under the hem of your dress, fingers curling against the soft skin of your thigh, dangerously close to where you ache for him.

The world outside the car window blurs into streaks of light as you lose yourself in him. You reach up, your fingers running through his hair, the length just long enough for you to tug. And you do, you tug enough to draw a deep, guttural groan from his throat. His body presses into yours, every inch of him impossibly close.

But just as the kiss deepens, Glen pulls back, his breath ragged against your lips. His eyes, dark with desire, search yours, his voice rough, thick with need. “Think you can last until we get to the hotel?”

You smile, that teasing spark in your eyes. “I don’t know...you seem a little impatient right now.”

The air between you crackles with the raw, undeniable tension. His thumb brushes over your lower lip as if trying to memorize the feel of you, his gaze never leaving yours.

“You have no idea,” he mutters under his breath, leaning back in for another kiss, but this time, he’s taking it slow, savoring every moment before the storm that’s clearly coming.

Glen leans forward, his movement smooth and deliberate, and taps the control panel between you and the driver. His voice is low, almost too calm as he says, “Raise the partition.”

You watch as the tinted glass slides up, cutting you off from the rest of the world. It’s just the two of you now, a world of your own where nothing exists but the heat between you and the air thick with unspoken promises.

His hands return to you almost immediately, his fingers grazing the zipper of your gown with a quiet, assured touch. The movement sends a rush of warmth through you, and for a split second, doubt flickers across your mind. You pull away, just enough to catch your breath, unsure about what Glen’s suggesting.

His lips brush against your ear, and the soft whisper of his words cuts through the haze. “Windows are tinted. Partition’s up. No one can see you but me, promise, baby.”

You can feel your pulse quicken, and your heart skips a beat. You bite your lip, torn between desire and hesitation. “But what about the driver? What if he hears?”

Glen’s chuckle rumbles against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. His thumb gently strokes your hip through the fabric, his touch somehow soothing and electrifying at the same time. “He’s got an NDA. Even if he hears anything, he legally can’t say a damn word.”

He leans back slightly watching you with that infuriatingly confident smirk, the one that says he knows exactly what you’re thinking. “But if you’re worried about that...guess you’ll just have to be quiet.”

His words hang in the air between you, daring you to give in. There’s no turning back now, and the space in the backseat of the SUV seems to close in around you. You know you want this, want him…right here, right now.

The final wall inside you crumbles, and before you can second guess yourself, your hands are on him. You pull him closer, your lips crashing against his in a kiss that burns with the intensity of everything you’ve been holding back all evening. Glen smiles against your lips, that cocky grin of his still there even as he feels the shift in you. His hands move with practiced ease, the zipper of your dress sliding down a few inches under his touch.

His lips leave yours, but the loss of contact is only brief. Glen’s mouth moves to your jaw, his breath hot against your skin as his lips trail downward, sending a shiver through you. You tilt your head back to give him more access, and in that instant he pulls the bodice of your dress down, exposing the black lace beneath.

You gasp at the sudden exposure, the cool air against your skin a stark contrast to the heat between you. Glen takes a slow breath, eyes dark with want as he gazes at you, drinking in the sight. His hands, so sure, push the dress further down, his fingertips grazing the sensitive skin at the top of your chest, making you bite your lip to keep from letting out a sound as his hands squeeze you through the cups of the lingerie.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, his voice low and raw, his hands reverently tracing the curves of your body as if memorizing every inch of you. His eyes flicker between your face and your exposed skin, his desire evident.

His lips return to your skin, his kisses slow and deliberate, as if savoring every reaction he draws from you. The ache between your legs deepens, the pressure unbearable as Glen’s touch continues to tease and tantalize.

You can’t hold back the soft whimper that escapes your lips, the sound a mixture of need and frustration. Glen hears it and smirks, a knowing look flashing across his face as his fingers slide higher, moving up the slit of your dress, where you’re aching for him most.

His touch is slow and deliberate, and it drives you wild. The heat between you builds, and as his fingers reach the spot you crave, you bite down on your lip to stifle a moan. He’s tormenting you, and you’re helpless to stop it. The way his fingers move, his touch just shy of where you need him most, makes you feel like you’re losing control.

As if sensing your desperation, Glen’s hand shifts, pressing firmly against the little bundle of nerves where you ache for him most. A gasp escapes your throat, the tension inside you winding tighter with every passing second. You feel yourself melt against him, lost in the sensation, every inch of your skin burning under his touch.

At the same time, your hands move with urgency, your fingers reaching for the buttons of his silk shirt. One by one, you undo them, your breath shallow and erratic as the anticipation builds between you. Each button undone is like a countdown to the inevitable moment when you’ll finally have him, just as he has you.

His lips brush against your ear, his voice a low rasp as he watches you, his fingers never faltering in their pursuit of your pleasure.

"God, I love you, baby," he murmurs again, and the words send a shiver down your spine, making the ache between your legs even more unbearable.

Your hands roam down his chest, fingertips grazing over warm, newly exposed skin. The contrast of soft silk against hard muscle makes your breath hitch, and without thinking, your nails dig in just enough to get a reaction out of him. Glen groans, his head tipping back slightly, the sound deep and raw, sending a thrill through your body.

Emboldened, you let your hands wander lower, reaching for his belt, but before you can undo it, Glen’s hand catches yours. His grip is firm but gentle, his thumb stroking over the back of your hand as he gives you a look that sends a new wave of heat pooling in your stomach.

"I want you to give me one first," he murmurs, his voice rough, filled with quiet command.

Your breath stutters as his fingers move faster, his touch growing more insistent, purposeful. A shiver rolls through you as realization dawns, your body tensing in response. Glen’s gaze softens, sensing your hesitation.

He leans in, his lips brushing against your cheek, trailing toward your ear. "Just let go," he whispers, coaxing, encouraging. "I’ve got you, baby."

The knot in your stomach tightens, the tension coiling like a wire ready to snap. Your fingers clutch at his shoulders, your nails pressing into his skin as you try to steady yourself against the mounting pleasure. Glen’s touch is relentless now, and you can feel yourself slipping further, the world around you fading until the only thing that exists is him. His hands, his voice, the way he’s completely unraveling you.

You close your eyes, surrendering to the sensation, to the way he makes you feel utterly weightless and lost all at once. And then it snaps. Your orgasm washes over you. Glen is right there, coaxing you through it as your hips move against his fingers. His voice is a low murmur of praise and reassurance, grounding you even as you come undone in his fingers. Your body shudders, fingers clutching at his open shirt, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

Just as you begin to regain control, Glen withdraws his fingers, his eyes locked onto yours as he brings them to his mouth, his lips wrapping around them to taste you. A satisfied hum vibrates in his throat, and the sight alone sends another rush of heat pooling in your core.

Your hands fumble with his belt, fingers shaking slightly as you undo the button of his pants. Glen shifts beneath you, helping as much as he can while his own hands remain possessive on your hips. When you finally free him, wrapping your hand around him, his breath hitches, and his grip tightens.

"Fuck," he exhales, his head tipping back against the seat for a moment before his gaze darkens, zeroing in on you.

With a teasing smirk, you shift, straddling his lap, the fabric of your dress pooling around you. One of Glen’s hands moves to your waist, guiding you as you position yourself over him. The other reaches up and pulls the lace of your underwear to the side.

Then as you sink down, a soft moan slips from your lips at the delicious stretch, Glen’s grip on your hips tightening as he exhales a sharp curse.

His head rolls back against the sat, his breath warm and uneven. "You’re gonna be the death of me," he rasps, voice filled with both adoration and hunger.

The air in the car is thick, charged with heat and longing, the rhythm between you and Glen pushing you both closer to that inevitable breaking point. His grip on your hips tightens, guiding you as your breaths tangle in the small space between you.

And then it happens. That tension inside you snaps, the knot in your stomach unraveling as a wave of pleasure crashes over you, leaving you breathless. Glen isn’t far behind, his movements growing erratic as a low, guttural groan leaves his lips. His hands grip you tighter for just a moment before he stills, his chest heaving against yours as the last remnants of pleasure pulse through both of you.

For a while, neither of you move. The only sound in the car is the heavy mix of your breaths and the faint distant hum of the city just beyond the glass. Your forehead drops to his shoulder, your body still trembling slightly in the aftermath. Glen’s head is still rolled back against the seat, his fingers tracing absentminded circles on your hips, grounding you both in the quiet.

His arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, holding you as if you might disappear if he lets go. The heat of the moment fades into something softer, something deeper. You can feel his heartbeat beneath your palm, steady and strong, mirroring the way he makes you feel.

"You okay?" he murmurs after a beat, his voice rough, but there’s something tender in the way he asks.

You nod against him, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. "Yeah," you breathe. "You?"

His lips press against your temple, lingering there for a moment. "Never better."

Neither of you rush to move, to pull away. Instead, you stay wrapped in the quiet, in the warmth of each other, savoring this moment that feels entirely your own.

As the rush of the moment fades, you shift in Glen’s lap, still catching your breath. That’s when you feel it. The cool brush of air conditioning against your lower back. Your brows furrow as you reach behind you, fingers grazing over the fabric of your dress…The zipper. Or rather, the complete and utter lack of one.

Your head snaps up. "Oh my God."

Glen who’s still recovering with his head tilted back against the seat, lifts his chin at the alarm in your voice.

His lazy grin fades the second he sees your expression. "What?"

You turn slightly, trying to get a better look, and that’s when he sees it. The once seamless zipper now split wide open, the expensive fabric pooling loosely around your waist, revealing the lace underneath.

Glen blinks. Then drags a hand down his face. "Shit."

A beat of silence.

Then, his lips twitch. "Babe—"

You groan, dropping your head against his shoulder. "Tell me you did not just rip a designer dress."

His chest shakes with a quiet laugh. "Okay, I won’t tell you."

You smack his arm. "Glen!"

He winces but doesn’t even try to hide the smirk tugging at his lips. “In my defense, you looked really, really good in it."

You lift your head to glare at him, but his boyish grin makes it impossible to be truly mad. He exhales a guilty chuckle, eyes scanning the damage before shaking his head. “Yeah, that’s…that’s not fixable.”

Another groan leaves your lips as you sit back, attempting to gather the fabric around you. “What am I supposed to do? Walk through the hotel lobby like this?”

Glen doesn’t hesitate. He shrugs off his suit jacket and carefully slides it onto your shoulders, his fingers brushing your arms as he adjusts it into place. The warmth of it, the scent of his cologne, wraps around you instantly. He lingers for a second, his hands resting against your arms as his eyes flick over you. He then buttons the jacket up in the front to cover the front of you since without the zipper you run the risk of people seeing both the front and back of you.

“There,” he murmurs, his voice softer now. “No one’s gonna see a thing.”

You then become acutely aware of just how thoroughly wrecked you both look. The lipstick smudged at the corner of his mouth, the way his once styled hair is a mess from where your fingers had been in it. And of course the disaster that is your dress.

You reach up, swiping the smudge of lipstick from the corner of his mouth with your thumb, and he lets you, his gaze locked on yours.

“You’re a mess,” you tease, smoothing down his shirt where it had bunched up.

He smirks then rolls his shoulders to straighten up. “So are you.”

“We should…probably fix ourselves,” you say, already reaching up to run your fingers through your hair, trying to smooth it down.

Glen huffs out a low chuckle, tilting his head back against the seat. “Yeah, probably.”

He moves to button his pants back up first, then starts redoing the buttons of his shirt, though his movements are slower, lazier like he isn’t in a rush at all. You catch the way his fingers fumble slightly, and without thinking you reach over, taking over the task of smoothing the fabric and fastening the last few buttons for him.

His gaze flickers up to yours, something softer in his expression now. You don’t acknowledge it, just keep working, pretending like your fingers aren’t slightly trembling from everything that just happened. As you finish, you notice his hair is a complete mess from where your hands had been tangled in it earlier. With a quiet hum, you reach up, smoothing the ends of his hair back into place.

Glen watches you the whole time. Then, just as you start to pull your hand away, he leans into your touch, just for a second, eyes half-lidded.

A slow smirk tugs at his lips. “I’m that much of a wreck, huh?”

You shake your head, lips twitching. “A little bit.”

He huffs a laugh and rolls his shoulders, like that’ll somehow make him look more put together. “Well, you’re no better, sweetheart.”

You scoff, but before you can fire back, the car slows, the city lights outside flashing across Glen’s face as you near the hotel. His smirk fades just slightly, his eyes scanning the entrance ahead. His hand finds yours, squeezing gently.

“You good to make a run for it?” he asks, voice low.

You let out a breathy laugh. “I don’t think I have much of a choice.”

Glen smiles that same playful, heart melting grin, and without missing a beat, he leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Stick close to me, baby,” he murmurs. “I’ve got you.”

And just like that, he’s back to being your Southern gentleman. Even after all that just transpired in the backseat, his priority is making sure you feel safe, covered, and comfortable.

The car eases to a stop, and before the driver can even step out, Glen is already moving, one hand reaching for the door handle, the other finding yours. He squeezes your fingers gently before slipping out, standing tall as he subtly scans the entrance for any wandering eyes. Then, with practiced ease, he turns, offering you his hand with a smirk that’s all charm, all Glen.

“Come on, baby. Let’s get you inside before we cause another scene.”

Glen keeps a firm arm wrapped around you as he helps you inside, his tux jacket draped over your shoulders, shielding you from any further wardrobe malfunctions. His grip is steady, protective, and despite the teasing glint in his eyes, there’s an unspoken possessiveness in the way he holds you close.

The hotel lobby is dimly lit, elegant, but you barely register it. Your focus is on Glen. The solid warmth of him against you, the subtle flex of his muscles beneath your fingers as you clutch onto his shirt. He walks with confidence, guiding you past the check in desk and toward the elevators, ignoring the way the night staff sneaks curious glances your way.

When you reach the elevator, Glen reaches out and presses the button with his free hand, keeping you tucked against his side. The silver doors slide open, and the moment you step inside, the tension crackles back to life. The doors close, and before you can take a breath Glen moves.

His hands are on you again. They’re fast, desperate, but never rough. He presses you gently but firmly against the cool metal wall, one hand tilting your chin up just as his lips crash against yours. The kiss is hungry and all consuming, reigniting the fire that had barely simmered down.

You gasp against his lips, your hands flying to his chest, gripping the collar of his shirt. His breath is hot and uneven as he kisses you deeper, his tongue sweeping against yours with a level of skill that leaves you lightheaded.

Then his lips trail lower, ghosting over your jaw, down the side of your neck.

His voice is low, rough against your skin. “Think you’ve got enough energy left for one more round?”

A smirk tugs at your lips as you tug him closer, fingers curling tighter in his shirt. You let your lips graze his, teasing. “With you? Always.”

Glen exhales sharply, his grip tightening on you. Just as his hand slips beneath the jacket, tracing the curve of your waist with slow deliberate intent, the elevator dings.

Your floor. The doors begin to slide open. Glen barely pulls back, his forehead resting against yours as his chest rises and falls, his smirk a little breathless.

“Guess we’ll have to pick this up inside,” he murmurs.

You bite your lip, eyes locked onto his as you slide your hand down, lacing your fingers with his. “What are you waiting for, then?”

Glen doesn’t let go of your hand as he leads you down the quiet hotel hallway, his stride purposeful, filled with anticipation. You can still feel the imprint of his hands on your skin, the way his lips had moved against yours in the elevator just moments ago, leaving you breathless and wanting.

The tension between you is electric, a live wire humming with energy, ready to spark the second you’re alone again.

Reaching your room, Glen presses you against the door for just a moment, his hands resting on your waist as he leans in, his voice a husky whisper. “Last chance to back out.”

You smirk, eyes locked onto his as you slide the key card from his hand, the smooth plastic cool between your fingers. “Not a chance, babe.”

A low chuckle rumbles in his chest, but before he can respond, you swipe the key card and push the door open. The moment it clicks shut behind you both, Glen’s hands are on you again, his lips grazing your ear as he murmurs, “Good. Because I’m nowhere near done with you.”

#Glen Powell #Glen Powell RPF #Glen Powell x Reader #Glen Powell x You

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grahstumhurts · 2 days ago

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𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧

Manon x Gn!Reader

再也不想诈不知谁人近日与你干着快乐事你我之间存着黑影子假使再拖极为无意义

Angst

Manon has been off, For months. A freezing cold gap between the two of you has been growing larger. Until you find out why.

CW - Mentions of cheating

A/N - I know the song itself isnt really the vibe, But the lyrics themselves are the vibe lol. Dont need to listen to it if its not your vibe since its Canto pop. Just felt like doing something fun! Based off the sandy lam song 灰色 (grey), Translation will be linked at the bottom for the song.

Things have felt off, For months, A shadow stood between the two of you. It started when Manon, Who had never been secretive once in your relationship, Suddenly changed her phone password. Things increasingly grew weirder over the weeks. Of course you had a gut feeling that something was off about her, But you trusted her enough to stay loyal, Even when times were tough in your relationship. She had always leaned on you when she needed help and you reciprocated that, You trusted her with every molecule in your body. But when she started leaving in the middle of the night while she thought you were sleeping, Driving off somewhere unknown, Something told you to investigate. When you found her entering a hotel, A woman was waiting outside for her, Hugging her tight and kissing her. It obviously stung, But the amount of energy you had put into your relationship for her to go and throw it away. She had sucked the life out of your heart, The colour drained only leaving a grey monotone in its place. You sat at your once warm home, Shared with who you thought was the love of your life, And waited. Waited for her to come back. Waited for her to come back and realise what she had done.

As soon as the door closed at around 3 am, You hopped out of bed. The restlessness kept you awake, You opened the bedroom door to see Manon, Sweat sheen, Lipstick stain on her collarbone, Who stood there stunned.

“How long” You sternly said with conviction in your voice. “How long have you been fucking other girls behind my back” She stared back at you, The girl who you had shared your first’s with, First relationship, First time having sex, First time moving in together, Stood before you. Guilt dripping on her sex covered ledger.

“I'm sorry” You see her eyes, glistening with tears about to fall, “I know i shouldn't have, But i just couldn't anymore.”

“Sorry, is all you have to say for yourself?!” You yelled, “Manon, I tried to ignore all the signs, “Maybe its a one time thing, Or shes not even cheating”, Fuck i loved you. I thought you loved me too.” You sigh, Rubbing your forefinger and thumb across your forehead.

“Please, Baby, Give me another chance. I promise i wont fuck it up.” She pleads, Practically begging.

“You ruined all your chances by fucking another girl behind my back,” You push her shoulders “I dont wanna love a liar. Fuck, Manon. I don't wanna see your face right now.” You turn to face away from her.

“Please, I'm begging you.” She cries, Her tears streaming down the face you once kissed with all the love your body could create. “I love you, y/n. Please”

“Pack your fucking things before i throw them out of the house.” You quietly mutter, “You better be out of here before I get back,” You say, walking out of the apartment.

When you get to your usual coffee spot, Your stunned to find Manon. Laughing along with a new girlfriend. It had been two months. She looked like you, She looked at Manon like she held up the stars and the moon that shine in the night sky. You tried to stay away from your old spots of habit from when you were with her. But like a magnetic force, She couldn't stay far enough away from you. Maybe part of you still missed that vigorous feeling of love that she gave you. You hated yourself for not being able to break through that grey feeling from your break up, You knew what was best for you was to move on from her. To realise how much better life was after her, And before her. But the broken memories of your time together still held places in your brain, etched into your skull.

Let me be the history, So you can move on

#grah speaks #katseye x reader #katseye imagines #katseye #katseye manon bannerman x reader #katseye manon x reader #katseye manon #manon bannerman #meret manon #katseye angst #grahstumhurts

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thisismyrandombloooog · 3 days ago

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Young Nat Scatorccio x Reader

Summary: you go over to Nats house after school and find yourselves so distracted neither of you notice her dad coming home

Tw: readers internalized homophobia, cursing, violent altercation, use of slurs, panic attack description(ish)

Wc: 1370 (edited version)

Part 1

It’s 96 degrees in New Jersey the day Natalie Scatorccios father accidentally kills himself.

It’s 96 degrees in New Jersey the day you and Nat start unofficially dating.

Sometimes you used to wonder if it was your fault somehow- the dying. But the day had no traces of sinister energy, only thick June heat that signified the beginning of summer and the end of Sophomore year. You hadn’t known Nat for very long. Tryouts for the Yellowjackets had been a week ago and, before that, she was just some girl in the hallway who listened to weird music and wore cool clothes. Now, she intimidated you, intrigued you, and confused you, just a little. But you hadn’t made many real friends since you moved last year and, well, you liked her. Enough that when she asked if you wanted to come over after the final day of school, you said yes.

You trail behind her through the dust of the trailer park, taking in your surroundings- a wilted plant, a waving neighbor, a sweltering blue sky. When you reach what you assumed to be her trailer, she stops short and turns abruptly. “Ok, we have to be super quiet,” she says nervously, glancing down towards some unknown point, “my mom is probably asleep and she wouldn’t… she doesn’t really like it when people come around,”

“That’s fine,” you say simply with a slight smile. She looks up grinning, though apprehension still lingers in her eyes. She nods and you climb the stairs together.

Nat lightly eases open the door. Sure enough, her mom is asleep on the couch, the glow of an old movie flickering on the small tv screen. Nat grabs your wrist as you slip down a narrow hallway towards her room. She quietly shuts the door and you hear her breath out a sigh of relief. She turns to you with a smile that makes your heart jump and crosses to the tape deck, rifling through cassettes. You definitely don’t have the same music taste, but you find yourself unable to care. It was too fascinating to see Natalie like this: smiling, relaxed, and putting on a tape in her room. You feel your heart begin to race.

“What,” Nat asks, looking over at you staring.

“Nothing,” you say back, quickly looking for something else to talk about. “I like your posters.”

“Thanks,” she says, flopping down onto her bed before grabbing your hand to pull you down next to her. “ Sooooo…. do you think we’ll make the team,” she asks, propping her hand on her chin, with an almost shit eating grin.

“I know you will,” you groan. “They need like 4 midfielders and you were so good, I missed like half of the goals.”

“Well then it’s a good thing Sweepers hardly ever have to score,” Natalie says. You roll your eyes but smile back at her.

“You know, I wouldn’t have taken you for a soccer player,” you say, sitting up to face her.

“What’s that supposed to mean,” she asks with a touch of sarcasm.

“I don’t know, you don’t seem like the type for organized school sports,” you say. When you first met Natalie, she seemed like she didn’t give two shits about anything, but as you got to know her she surprised you all the time. She played soccer, she cried at movies where the dogs died, and she was actually pretty smart.

“I’m not really. I guess I just like soccer.” She says it thoughtfully, as though she hadn’t figured it out herself and let her head fall back to the mattress. Her dark hair is splayed out around her face and her cheeks are flushed slightly from the heat.

Suddenly the room feels small.

“You’re staring,” she says, though she sounds more nervous than teasing.

“Am not,” you say, trying to laugh it off and looking down at your hands.

“Are too,” she argues back, like you’re toddlers again.

“Well you’re blushing,” you shoot back, your throat beginning to feel thick. Bees in your stomach and concrete in your esophagus suffocate you at the thought of this conversation.

“Well, it’s like a million degrees out, Y/n,” Nat mutters, licking her lips. Your eyes track the movement and she notices. Her gaze flickers back to yours and the air feels thick and buzzing. She’s watching you intently now. You should look away. You should say something. But you don’t.

Instead, Nat props her elbow underneath her, sitting back up. You can see her eyelashes clumping around her mascara and the way her breath disturbs the dark hairs farming her face, just a little

“I kinda want to kiss you,” Nat says quietly and quickly, avoiding eye contact.

Your heart stops all together.

“I’m, uh, well… I’m not.. uh I’m not gay,” you stutter.

“Okay,” Nat shrugs, as if that isn’t the point.

“Okay,” echo. But you still find yourself leaning in, slowly, leaning in until your lips touch Nat’s soft, full ones.

You had kissed boys before. Hell, you had a boyfriend at your last school. But this was different. You were afraid to even think the word ‘better’, but somewhere in your subscious, you were screaming it. She was gentler: her nose was smaller, her skin was softer, and her hair tickled your cheek.

She pulls back a fraction, eyes flickering between yours, with anxiety. ”Was that okay,” she asks, voice softer than you’d ever heard it. You wish you could scream no. Tell her that you were in fact, not gay, and run out of the trailer. But you can’t. Because it was okay. It was more than okay.

So you nod, not trusting your voice. And she returns a shy smile.

She leans in, this time with more confidence, and your lips meet again. You remember something you mom used to say: once is an accident, twice is on purpose. This time it’s less tentative and more certain. You’re painfully aware of the way she pulls you closer. How her arm snakes up to cup your cheek. How she pulls you down flat onto the bed…

The door slams open.

“Fuck,” Nat says and you can only register the panic in her eyes for a moment before she’s darting towards the distrubance. You hear the screaming before you see his face.

“Who the fuck is this Natalie,” he says, trying to move the girl out of the way. You realize he means you. ”Is she a fucking d*ke. Are you fucking d*ke Natalie.”

Your stomach drops. Shock begins to wave over your body, depriving you of your higher senses.

“Dad stop, it’s nothing, just stop” Nat screams, pulling him back before he can reach you. Your ears ring with the word ‘dad’.

“Do you think I’m fucking stupid,” he yells. You look over at Nat as she comes toward you in a blur.

She’s horrified, her breathing is erractice, and she seems to be on the verge of tears. She grabs your arm and pulls you up. “Just go,” she says, desperate and panicked.

Disoriented, you stumble to grab your bag and begin to run out the door. Out of the corner of your eye you Nats dad grab her arm abrasively and your heart jumps to your throat. You stop short and turn back to look at her. What would he do for this? You want to stop it, to do something, anything. Her cheeks are wet now. “Fucking go,” she says, sadness etched over every part of her features, and you run. You can hear her dad screaming all the way down the block. Youwonder why her neighbors have never stopped him, but it occurs to you that maybe they’ve tried.

You sprint all the way home and the time you get there sweat has soaked your clothes and you’re on the verge of passing out. Heat laps viciously at your skin and you grab at your chest, willing yourself to breathe. Your mind flashes with all the things that could be happening to Natalie and you’re hit with a wave of nausea.

You stumble inside, tears forming in your eyes, as you go to wash up before your parents arrive home.

#natalie scatorccio #yellowjackets season 3 #nat yellowjackets #natalie yellowjackets #natalie scatorccio x reader #nat x reader #natalie x reader #sophie thatcher #sophie thatcher x reader #young nat #young nat x reader #young natalie x reader #young natalie scatorccio x reader #wlw #lesbian #soccer lesbians #yellowjackets season 1 #yellowjackets season 2 #yellowjackets

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joaosnovia · 14 hours ago

Note

Hi! Could you write something where the reader lives in Madrid and decides to go out to a bar with some college friends? It turns out that one of her friends' boyfriends is a friend of Jude and some other Real Madrid players. That night, the reader ends up meeting him. She already knew who he was—thought he was insanely attractive—but kept that to herself. That night, they just have a great conversation, full of flirting, but in a fun and natural way. When she gets home, she's completely dazzled—not just because of how good-looking he is, but because he’s actually really interesting too. She tells her college friends everything, but also her best friend. A few days later, the reader is at her internship (I imagine something in the healthcare field because it takes up a lot of her time). That day, her best friend is visiting, but since the reader is still at work, her best friend goes out with some of their other friends. The reader, exhausted from her shift, just wants to go home and sleep. She’s already turned down any plans for the night. But once she’s finally home, lying on the couch, she gets a message from her best friend: "You won’t believe this. Your man is here." She thinks about going but tells herself it's not worth it—they haven’t talked since that night, so why would she do this? Then, another message: "Girl, you cannot let this chance slip away." She finally gives in and goes. When she gets there, she spots him but pretends she hasn’t seen him—even though she knows he’s already seen her. And that night… something happens.

I thought of something like this. Sorry if it's a bit confusing—I've been thinking about this story for days. Could you please write it? I love your writing, and I'm sure it would be amazing!

❦ - madrid, maybe?

summary:: madrid was supposed to be about school, work, and keeping your head down, not late nights, stolen glances, and jude bellingham throwing your whole plan off track. you told yourself it was nothing. then again, madrid has a way of making nothing feel like everything.

warnings:: fair amount of cussing, alcohol consumption, reader is lowkey drunk asf, mentions of work related stress, a lot of angst (yeah im sorry for that but i needed to), eventual relationship && reader being a bit of a bitch.

writers note:: so i lowkey spent a LOT of hours doing this but i think it was worth it..? but anyways also lmk if i should make another part of the joao felix series! it could be longer but yk.

tags: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp

the night had started like any other.

it had taken more convincing than usual to get you out. after a long week at your internship, long shifts, barely any sleep, endless responsibilities, you had been desperate for a night in. a night where you could just exist without needing to be on all the time.

but your friends had other plans. you never come out anymore, they’d whined. one drink. just one drink.

so here you were, tucked into a crowded bar in the heart of madrid, nursing something cold in your hands while your college friends laughed and talked around you. it wasn’t bad, really. the music was good, the energy infectious. maybe you’d needed this more than you thought.

you had just started to relax when a familiar name was dropped into the conversation.

‘jude’s on his way,’ your friend’s boyfriend announced casually, barely looking up from his phone.

the name sent a ripple of recognition through the group. your friends exchanged glances, excitement flashing in their eyes. even if you weren’t a huge football fan, you weren’t oblivious. you knew who he was.

jude bellingham.

and, sure, you’d seen the photos, watched the clips. it was impossible to live in madrid and not know about him. but the thought of actually meeting him? it was something you had never even considered.

still, you kept your reaction to yourself. unlike the others, you weren’t about to sit there and gush about him like he was some unattainable celebrity. he was just a guy, right?

just a guy.

but then he walked in.

and, immediately, you realized how wrong you were.

he wasn’t just a guy.

he was tall. taller than you expected, effortlessly commanding the room without even trying. he moved with an ease that was almost unfair, like he knew exactly who he was, exactly what kind of attention he drew.

and, god, he was stupidly attractive.

even more than in pictures, sharper jawline, softer eyes, an easy sort of confidence that was somehow both infuriating and completely magnetic.

you forced yourself to look away, taking a sip of your drink. you were not going to be one of those girls.

but then, of course, he ended up right next to you.

the introductions were quick, casual. your friend’s boyfriend did most of the talking, barely noticing the way jude’s eyes lingered on you a second longer than necessary.

and then, suddenly, it was just the two of you.

it started simple enough. polite conversation, the usual questions. but it didn’t take long for the banter to start.

he was quick. sharp. he caught onto things most people wouldn’t, met your sarcasm with just as much of his own. you teased him about his spanish, about the way the entire bar had turned to look at him the moment he walked in.

‘you’re used to this, aren’t you?’ you said at one point, tipping your glass slightly toward him.

his lips quirked. ‘what?’

‘people staring at you.’

he leaned in slightly, voice low and amused. ‘you mean you staring at me?’

you rolled your eyes, even as heat crept up your neck. ‘please. you wish.’

he laughed at that, and you knew, without a doubt, that he was enjoying this. the game of it all. the push and pull.

the night blurred after that. conversations overlapping, hands brushing, glances held a second too long.

by the time you got home, you were dazed. not just from the drinks, not just from the way he looked at you, but from the way he was.

you told your friends everything. and, of course, you told your best friend.

but then days passed. and he didn’t text.

and why would he? it was just one night. just a conversation. he probably met a dozen new people a week.

so you let it go. focused on work. exhausted yourself to the point where there was no room to think about anything else.

until

‘you won’t believe this. your man is here.’

you stared at the message, blinking away the exhaustion.

‘no way.’

you were sprawled on your couch, still in your scrubs, every muscle in your body aching from the shift you had just survived.

you weren’t going out. you had already said no to at least three different invitations tonight. you needed sleep.

but then another message.

‘girl, you cannot let this chance slip away.’

you exhaled slowly, phone resting on your chest.

your best friend was right. what were the chances? what if you never ran into him again?

before you could overthink it, you got up. changed. left.

the bar was even more packed than last time. but you spotted him immediately.

and you knew the exact moment he saw you.

but instead of going to him, instead of acknowledging him at all, you walked right past him.

you could feel his eyes on you.

and then, minutes later

‘thought you weren’t coming,’ a voice murmured in your ear.

you turned, already biting back a smile. ‘i wasn’t.’

he raised a brow. ‘what changed?’

you shrugged, playing it cool. ‘got bored.’

he laughed, shaking his head. ‘you’re trouble, aren’t you?’

‘depends on who you ask.’

‘and if i asked you?’

you met his gaze, holding it. challenging. ‘then i’d say you’ll have to find out for yourself.’

the way his eyes darkened at that; yeah. you knew exactly where this night was heading.

the thing about madrid was that it never really slept. neither did you, apparently.

despite the exhaustion from your shift, despite knowing you’d regret this in the morning, you were here. back in a crowded bar, back in this game of glances and teasing remarks with jude bellingham.

he was still standing close, still watching you like he knew exactly what you were doing.

‘so, you gonna keep pretending you don’t see me?’ he asked, tilting his head slightly.

‘i don’t know what you’re talking about,’ you said smoothly, sipping your drink.

his lips quirked into that stupid, knowing smirk. ‘right. just a coincidence you walked past me like i was invisible.’

‘maybe you just are invisible," you shot back.

he let out a short laugh, shaking his head. ‘you’re funny.’

‘i know.’

he eyed you for a moment, like he was trying to figure something out. then, casually, ‘so, you do this a lot?’

‘do what?’

‘show up at bars just to mess with guys?’

‘only the ones who deserve it.’

‘good to know,’ he murmured, leaning in slightly. ‘so, what makes me one of them?’

you didn’t answer right away. mostly because his proximity was making it hard to think straight. his cologne, something warm and expensive, lingered in the air between you. it didn’t help that his voice had dropped just enough to make your stomach flip.

‘well,’ you said finally, keeping your tone light, ‘technically, you never texted me. so, really, i should be the one messing with you.’

his brows shot up. ‘i never texted you?’

‘yeah. you had my number, didn’t use it.’

he scoffed, amused. ‘first of all, i never got your number.’

you paused. ‘wait, really?’

‘yeah. really.’

you frowned, trying to remember if that was true. the night had been a blur, but, maybe he hadn’t gotten it?

he watched your expression shift and grinned. ‘what, you thought i ghosted you?’

‘i mean… maybe?’

he shook his head, laughing. ‘nah, see, thats crazy. you deadass thought i’d just meet you, have that conversation, and then never hit you up?’

‘i don’t know, you meet a lot of people.’

‘yeah, and i remember the interesting ones.’

you didn’t respond to that. mostly because the words did something weird to your heart. instead, you just sipped your drink again, pretending it hadn’t fazed you.

jude, apparently, wasn’t done.

‘you gonna give it to me now?’

‘give you what?’

‘your number.’

you smirked. ‘hmm. i don’t know. you did ignore me for, like, a week.’

he rolled his eyes. ‘you just admitted that wasn’t my fault.’

‘still hurt my feelings, though.’

‘oh, yeah? you were heartbroken?’

‘devastated,’ you said solemnly. ‘could barely function.’

‘should i make it up to you, then?’

your heart skipped, but you kept your expression neutral. ‘and how exactly do you plan on doing that?’

his gaze flickered down to your lips; quick, barely noticeable. but you noticed.

‘i could think of a few ways.’ he said lightly.

your stomach flipped.

you should not be enjoying this as much as you were. but it was impossible not to. because the thing about jude was that he was good at this. good at knowing exactly when to push, exactly when to pull back.

and maybe, just maybe, you were a little bit addicted to it.

before you could say anything else, someone called his name from across the bar. you both turned, spotting one of his friends motioning for him to come over.

‘you leaving?’ you asked.

he looked at his friends, then back at you. ‘not yet.’

‘oh? got something better to do?’

his smirk was slow, deliberate. ‘yeah. think i do.’

an hour passed. maybe more.

somewhere in between the second and third drink, the two of you had drifted toward a quieter part of the bar. still close to the crowd, but just far enough that the conversation felt more… intimate.

he asked about your internship, your plans. listened intently, even as you rambled about how exhausting it was.

‘so, basically, you’re a superhero,’ he said when you finished.

you laughed. ‘that’s a bit of a reach.’

‘nah,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘saving lives, barely getting sleep. sounds heroic to me.’

you rolled your eyes, but your stomach did a stupid little flip at the way he said it.

eventually, though, the energy around you shifted. the bar had thinned out, people heading home.

you should’ve, too. but you weren’t ready yet.

and neither was he.

‘wanna get out of here?’ he asked suddenly.

you glanced up. ‘oh?’

he huffed a laugh. ‘not like that.’

‘mhmm.’

i’m serious,’ he said, grinning. ‘just, wanna walk for a bit?’

you hesitated, then shrugged. ‘sure.’

the streets of madrid at night were something else. a little quieter now, but still buzzing, still alive.

you and jude walked side by side, the conversation lighter now. less teasing, more comfortable.

‘so, what do you actually do for fun?’ he asked at one point.

you scoffed. ‘fun? don’t know her.’

‘nah, see, i knew you were gonna say that.’

‘because it’s true!’

he shook his head. ‘i don’t believe it. you have to have some kind of guilty pleasure.’

you thought for a second. ‘hmm. okay. maybe i watch reality tv when i’m too exhausted to do anything else.’

he gasped dramatically. ‘no way.’

‘shut up.’

‘what show?’

‘not telling you.’

‘nah, you have to tell me now.’

you pursed your lips. ‘love island.’

his eyes widened, like he’d just uncovered the greatest secret in the world.

‘i knew you were toxic,’ he said, laughing.

‘excuse me?’

‘nah, it makes sense now.’

‘okay, and what’s your guilty pleasure, then?’

he thought for a moment. ‘i still watch kids' cartoons sometimes.’

‘no way.’

‘swear down.’

you squinted at him. ‘you’re lying.’

‘i swear.’

you were still laughing when you realized you had stopped walking.

and then you realized something else.

you were standing too close.

you weren’t sure who had moved first. all you knew was that his hand was brushing against yours now, his gaze a little softer, his voice a little lower.

and suddenly, the air between you wasn’t just charged; it was buzzing.

you swallowed.

‘so,’ he murmured, ‘if i asked you again…’

‘asked me what?’ you said, playing dumb.

his lips quirked.

‘for your number.’

your heart was racing now. but you still pretended to think about it.

then, finally

‘guess you have to make it up to me somehow first.’

he grinned. ‘oh, yeah?’

‘yeah.’

‘and how exactly do you want me to do that?’

you smiled. ‘figure it out.’

judging by the look in his eyes, he already had an idea.

‘so, if i asked you again… for your number?’

‘guess you have to make it up to me somehow first.’

‘oh, yeah? and how exactly do you want me to do that?’

you had smiled, told him to figure it out.

and, of course, jude bellingham took that as a challenge.

hours earlier.

the second you’d said the words, his grin had turned slow, deliberate.

‘figure it out, huh?’

you shrugged, pretending to be unaffected by the way his gaze lingered on your lips before flickering back up to your eyes.

‘if you really want my number, yeah,’ you said lightly. ‘gonna have to earn it.’

he let out a short laugh, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe you.

‘alright,’ he said finally. ‘challenge accepted.’

the next hour had been a game.

you weren’t sure when the shift had happened; when the teasing had become this.

he had been trying to impress you before, sure. but now? now, jude was determined.

he had leaned into the flirting, turned up the charm to levels that should have been illegal.

he started making you laugh on purpose, telling ridiculous stories about his teammates, doing impressions, playing into every little quirk he had already picked up about you.

when you rolled your eyes, he’d smirk and say, ‘there she goes again.’

when you crossed your arms, pretending to be unimpressed, he’d lean in and murmur, ‘c’mon, you’re dying to give me your number.’

he kept finding excuses to touch you; a hand on your back as you walked through the street, a brush of fingers when you reached for something at the same time. light touches, nothing overwhelming, but just enough to keep your heart racing.

but you weren’t going to make it easy.

you pushed back, met his teasing with just as much of your own. made him laugh, made him work for it.

at one point, he sighed dramatically, tilting his head back.

‘this is actually crazy,’ he said. ‘most girls would’ve given in by now.’

‘good thing i’m not most girls,’ you shot back.

he looked at you then, something unreadable flickering in his expression.

‘yeah,’ he said after a second. ‘guess you’re not.’

eventually, you ended up at a small plaza, the streetlights casting a soft glow over the cobblestone. it was late really late, but neither of you seemed to care.

the energy between you had settled. still charged, but warmer now.

‘so,’ he said, shoving his hands into his pockets, ‘are you gonna give me anything to work with here?’

‘what do you mean?’

‘like, a hint at least?’

‘for what?’

‘how to win your number,’ he said, exasperated.

you laughed, tilting your head slightly. ‘hmm. i don’t know…’

he groaned. ‘you’re killing me.’

‘good.’

he stared at you for a second, then suddenly straightened.

‘alright,’ he said. ‘i’ve got it.’

‘got what?’

‘the way i’m getting your number.’

you raised a brow. ‘oh?’

‘yeah,’ he said confidently. ‘gimme a second.’

before you could ask what he was doing, he pulled out his phone.

you watched, confused, as he opened instagram, typed something, and handed it to you.

his profile was already open.

follow me.

you let out a short laugh. ‘wow. smooth.’

‘look, i could go old school and ask for your number directly,’ he said, grinning. ‘but i know you’d make me jump through five more hoops before you actually gave it to me.’

‘true,’ you admitted.

‘so, this is my compromise.’ he nodded toward the screen. ‘follow me. then i’ll dm you. then you have to respond.’

you hummed, pretending to think about it.

then, finally, you hit follow.

jude immediately took his phone back, typing something quickly.

a second later, yours buzzed.

new dm from judebellingham:

does this mean i win?

you grinned, typing back.

hmm. undecided.

another message.

fairs. i’ll keep working on it, then.

now, lying in bed, you scrolled back through the messages, rereading them even though you knew them by heart.

it was stupid, really. how giddy this was making you.

you told yourself it didn’t mean anything. that you were just enjoying the attention, that this was just harmless flirting.

but then;

another message.

judebellingham: you up?

your breath caught.

it was so late. did he just get home, too? was he still thinking about tonight?

you hesitated for a second.

then,

maybe. why?

jude: just wondering if i was the only one still thinking about tonight.

your heart stopped.

you stared at the message for a long time, suddenly very aware of how fast your pulse was racing.

he was good so good at this.

and, worst of all,

you had no idea what the hell you were going to do about it.

you weren’t answering.

jude had sent the message almost fifteen minutes ago, and your reply still hadn’t come through.

he wasn’t the type to overthink things—not usually. but something about this was different. something about you had thrown him completely off his game.

he ran a hand through his hair, staring at the chat. maybe he shouldn’t have sent that last message. maybe it had been too much. too soon.

but, fuck, he hadn’t been able to help himself.

the night had ended, he had gone home, but his mind was still buzzing. still replaying everything, the teasing, the way your eyes had lit up when you laughed, the way you’d refused to make things easy for him.

he had met plenty of people in madrid. plenty of girls who had flirted with him, who had been interested.

but none of them had felt like this.

and that? that was messing with him.

his phone buzzed.

should i lie or tell the truth?

his heart kicked up, and suddenly, he felt stupid for even doubting that you’d respond.

jude: always the truth

he watched the little typing bubble pop up, then disappear.

then pop up again.

then disappear.

he smirked. you were hesitating. interesting.

finally;

then yeah. i’m thinking about it too.

the next morning, you woke up to another message.

judebellingham: coffee later?

you stared at the words, your stomach flipping.

it was a bad idea.

you knew this.

your life was too busy, your schedule too packed. you barely had time for yourself, let alone whatever the hell this thing with jude was becoming.

not to mention, he was him.

jude bellingham, the biggest star in madrid. constantly surrounded by cameras, by attention.

it was so easy to imagine how this would play out.

a few fun conversations. some flirting. maybe even something more.

and then?

he’d get bored. move on.

because that’s how these things went.

so you should say no.

you should.

but…

what time?

you almost backed out twice.

first, when you realized you had been standing in front of your closet for ten whole minutes, overthinking what to wear.

it wasn’t a date. just coffee. casual. nothing serious.

so why were you acting like it meant something?

but then,

you walked in.

and jude was already there, waiting for you.

the second he spotted you, his whole face lit up.

‘thought you were gonna stand me up,’ he said, grinning.

you rolled your eyes, slipping into the seat across from him. ‘tempting, but no.’

he smirked. ‘you were thinking about it, though.’

‘maybe.’

he leaned back slightly, still watching you with that look.

like he knew exactly what kind of effect he had on you.

you ignored the way your pulse picked up, reaching for the menu.

‘so,’ you said, acting casual, ‘are we actually getting coffee, or did you just want an excuse to see me again?’

his smirk deepened.

‘bit of both, to be honest.’

you were so fucked.

an hour passed. then another.

coffee turned into brunch. brunch turned into you two still sitting there, talking like you hadn’t just met a few days ago.

and that was the problem.

it should have been surface level. light, fun, meaningless.

but then he was asking about your family, about your childhood.

then he was telling you about birmingham, about moving away when he was just a kid.

then he was making you laugh again, and it wasn’t just because he was funny; it was because he was genuinely interesting.

by the time the bill came, you realised,

you didn’t want to leave.

which was exactly why you had to.

you pulled out your wallet, but jude was already handing over his card.

‘i got it,’ he said.

‘i can pay for my own coffee, you know.’

‘yeah, but i invited you.’

‘i can still’

‘let me, yeah?’

you hesitated.

he was looking at you again, and there was something in his expression that made it really hard to argue.

so you just sighed. ‘fine.’

he grinned. ‘thank you.’

you rolled your eyes, standing up. ‘you’re annoying.’

‘and yet, here you are, still spending time with me.’

you shook your head, walking toward the door. he followed.

‘so,’ he said, once you were outside. ‘when am i seeing you again?’

you exhaled slowly, staring at the ground.

‘jude’

‘don’t do that,’ he said, suddenly serious.

‘do what?’

‘shut me out before this even goes anywhere.’

your stomach twisted. ‘i’m not.’

‘you are.’

you bit your lip, glancing up at him.

the easygoing smirk was gone. in its place was something softer, something real.

‘i get it,’ he said. ‘you’re busy. you’ve got a life, your job, your own shit to deal with.’

he ran a hand through his curls, exhaling.

‘but if you’re pulling back because you think this is just some game to me.’ he met your gaze. ‘it’s not.’

your heart stuttered.

you wanted to believe him.

‘we barely know each other,’ you pointed out.

‘so let’s change that,’ he said simply.

like it was that easy.

and maybe, for him, it was.

but for you?

you had spent so long keeping people at a distance. protecting yourself from the inevitable disappointment of expecting too much.

so why did part of you want to take the risk?

‘just think about it,’ he murmured, stepping back. ‘yeah?’

you swallowed. nodded.

he studied you for a second longer, like he wanted to say something else.

then he turned, walking away.

you stood there for a long time after he left, staring at the spot where he’d been.

thinking about his words.

thinking about how, for the first time in a long time.

you wanted to let someone in.

you were avoiding him.

not entirely; you still answered his texts, still sent the occasional dry joke in response to his voice notes. but you weren’t making any effort beyond that.

no more late night messages. no more lingering conversations. no more seeing him in person.

and jude wasn’t stupid. he noticed.

you’re dodging me.

the message came in late one night, right as you were finishing up work.

you stared at your phone, thumb hovering over the keyboard.

he wasn’t wrong.

but admitting that would mean confronting why.

so you typed something else instead.

i’m busy.

a minute passed.

then,

jude: bullshit.

your stomach twisted.

you sighed, shoving your phone in your pocket before you could answer.

but it didn’t matter.

because, for the rest of the night, you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

the truth was, it was easier this way.

the second you had walked away from that café, you had known, this thing with jude was dangerous.

because you liked him.

more than you should.

and that was bad.

because, at the end of the day, he was still him.

jude bellingham, the football star. the golden boy.

he was fun, charming, ridiculously attractive.

but he was also someone with a whole life you didn’t belong in. a world of flashing cameras and public scrutiny, of schedules packed with travel and endless commitments.

and you?

you barely had time to breathe most days.

you had your job, your responsibilities, your own life.

it didn’t make sense to let yourself fall for him.

so you had started pulling back.

distancing yourself before you could get in too deep.

before you could get hurt.

but clearly, he wasn’t going to let you do that quietly.

the next time you saw him, it wasn’t planned.

you were out with friends, trying to pretend like everything was normal, like your mind wasn’t elsewhere.

and then,

there he was.

across the bar, laughing with a group of people you didn’t recognize.

your stomach flipped.

and, just as quickly; his eyes found yours.

you froze.

he didn’t.

his smile faded, and before you could even think about running, he was already moving toward you.

‘hey,’ he said when he reached you.

you swallowed. ‘hey.’

he studied you for a second, then nodded toward the door.

‘let’s talk.’

you hesitated.

‘jude.’

‘don’t.’ his voice was low, firm. ‘don’t make excuses. just come outside.’

you exhaled slowly.

you could say no.

you should say no.

but you didn’t.

outside, the air was cold, but the tension between you was colder.

you crossed your arms. ‘what do you want me to say?’

jude let out a short, humorless laugh.

‘oh, i don’t know,’ he said. ‘maybe an actual explanation?’

‘i told you, i’ve been..’

‘busy. yeah. i got that.’

he shook his head, jaw tight.

‘but we both know that’s not really the problem, is it?’

you looked away.

‘you’re pushing me away,’ he continued, his voice quieter now. ‘and i don’t get it.’

your throat felt tight.

‘i just…’ you exhaled. ‘i don’t think this is a good idea.’

he frowned. ‘why not?’

you hesitated.

because you were scared.

because you didn’t trust yourself with this.

because you knew that if you let him in, you’d fall hard.

but saying any of that out loud felt impossible.

so instead, you went for the easiest excuse.

‘because i don’t have time for this.’

jude scoffed, running a hand through his curls.

‘that’s such bullshit,’ he muttered.

‘it’s not,’ you said, forcing your voice to stay even. ‘i barely have time for myself, jude. i can’t add this..’ you gestured between you, ‘whatever this is on top of everything else.’

his expression darkened.

‘so what?’ he said. ‘you’re just gonna pretend like none of this ever happened? like that night meant nothing?’

your chest ached.

‘it was fun,’ you said, voice hollow. ‘but that’s all it was.’

jude stared at you.

and for the first time since you met him, he looked hurt

you forced yourself to hold his gaze, to keep your expression neutral, even though every part of you was screaming at you to fix it.

but you couldn’t.

this was for the best.

finally, he nodded, stepping back.

‘right,’ he said quietly. ‘got it.’

the space between you felt huge.

he glanced away, let out a slow exhale.

then, without another word, he walked away. and you let him. but as you stood there, watching him disappear into the night, you wondered if you had just made the biggest mistake of your life.

the worst part wasn’t the fight.

it was after.

the silence.

the space where his texts used to be. the absence of his name lighting up your phone late at night. the realization that you had gotten used to having him around, in your inbox, in your thoughts, in you.

and now?

nothing.

days passed. you threw yourself into work, into school, into anything that would keep your mind from wandering back to him.

but it didn’t matter.

jude was everywhere.

in the headlines, on tv, on the back of strangers’ jerseys in the street.

in the playlist you hadn’t been able to listen to since that night.

in the memories that crept in during quiet moments, the way he laughed, the warmth of his gaze, the way he looked at you like he actually saw you.

and worse, the last thing he had said.

‘got it.’

so final. so done.

but then,

friday night.

you weren’t supposed to go out.

you had planned to stay in, avoid the possibility of running into him again.

but your best friend had shown up at your apartment, refusing to take no for an answer.

‘you’ve been moping,’ she said flatly. ‘it’s getting sad.’

you glared. ‘i am not..’

‘you are,’ she cut in. ‘and honestly? i can’t watch you wallow for another weekend.’

so now, here you were.

back at the same bar where everything had started.

part of you hoped he wouldn’t be there.

part of you hoped he would.

and then,

of course.

he was.

you spotted him across the room, surrounded by friends, smiling at something someone said.

your heart clenched.

god, you missed that smile.

but then, his eyes lifted.

found yours.

and just like that, everything came rushing back.

the tension. the longing. the regret.

but you looked away first.

because you didn’t know how to fix this.

and maybe he didn’t want you to.

fifteen minutes later, you were at the bar, nursing a drink you didn’t really want, trying to not look for him in the crowd.

so when someone stepped up beside you, you didn’t even glance over.

‘we really gonna keep doing this?’

your breath caught.

slowly, you turned.

jude.

closer than you expected.

his eyes searched yours, something unreadable in his expression.

‘look,’ you started, but he shook his head.

‘no,’ he said. ‘my turn.’

you blinked.

‘i don’t get you,’ he went on, voice low. ‘one minute, you’re there. with me. and the next, you’re gone.’

guilt twisted in your chest.

‘i…’

‘i know you’re scared,’ he said, softer now. ‘i get it. i do.’

you looked away, but his fingers brushed your wrist, grounding you.

‘but you don’t get to pull me in and then push me away like i don’t fucking matter,’ he said.

your throat tightened.

‘that’s not..’

‘it is,’ he said quietly. ‘that’s what it feels like.’

silence stretched between you.

you swallowed hard. ‘i thought i was protecting myself.’

he exhaled, shaking his head. ‘from what me?’

‘from getting hurt,’ you whispered.

‘and how’s that working out for you?’ he shot back. ‘because, newsflash, i’m hurt too.’

that stopped you.

he let the words sink in, then sighed.

‘look,’ he said, softer. ‘i don’t know what this is. i don’t know where it’s going.’

his gaze held yours. steady. certain.

‘but i know i like you. i know i haven’t stopped thinking about you since we met.’

your breath hitched.

‘and yeah,’ he added, ‘maybe it’s messy. maybe it’s complicated. but damn, i think it’s worth figuring out.’

your walls, carefully built, meticulously maintained, cracked.

because fuck.

you wanted this.

wanted him.

so you let out a shaky laugh, blinking back the sting in your eyes.

‘you’re really bad at letting things go, huh?’

he smiled, a little broken, a little hopeful.

‘not when it comes to you.’

that did it.

you reached for him, and he met you halfway.

pulling you in.

warm, solid, familiar.

‘i’m scared,’ you admitted against his chest.

‘yeah,’ he murmured into your hair. ‘me too.’

you pulled back just enough to meet his gaze.

‘but maybe,’ you said, ‘we figure it out anyway?’

his smile was soft. real.

‘yeah,’ he said. ‘i’d like that.’

and when he kissed you,

it didn’t feel like an ending.

it felt like finally.

if someone had told you a few months ago that you’d be here, lying on jude’s couch, your legs draped over his lap while a movie played in the background (completely ignored), you would’ve laughed.

or panicked.

probably both.

but now?

now it just felt right.

‘you’re not even watching,’ jude mumbled, poking your side.

you glanced up from your phone. ‘neither are you.’

he smirked. ‘yeah, but i invited you over to watch it. not scroll through tiktoks.’

‘you didn’t invite me over for the movie.’ you shot back, raising a brow.

he grinned. ‘fair enough.’

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips.

this was how it had been lately, easy. familiar. like you had slipped into some rhythm you didn’t even realize you’d wanted.

the initial whirlwind of everything, the confusion, the push and pull, had settled.

now there were lazy mornings when you stayed over, his hoodie swallowing you whole as you sipped coffee in his kitchen.

there were texts throughout the day, some sweet, some stupid, all of them making you smile.

there were nights like this, where nothing was planned and yet it was perfect.

‘hey.’ his voice pulled you out of your thoughts. ‘what’s going on in that head of yours?’

you shrugged. ‘just… thinking.’

‘dangerous,’ he teased, but there was a softness in his gaze.

you hesitated, then admitted, ‘i didn’t think it’d be like this.’

his brow furrowed. ‘like what?’

‘easy,’ you said quietly. ‘i thought it’d be more… complicated.’

he tilted his head. ‘it was complicated. you made it complicated.’

‘hey.’ you swatted his arm, but he caught your hand, lacing his fingers through yours.

‘but,’ he added, squeezing gently, ‘it’s not anymore.’

and that was the thing, you had stopped waiting for the other shoe to drop. stopped holding yourself back.

because he hadn’t left.

hadn’t pulled away when things got hard. hadn’t treated you like some passing thing.

he was here.

with you.

choosing you.

every single day.

your chest warmed at the thought.

‘what?’ jude asked, eyes narrowing playfully. ‘you’re looking at me like you’re about to say something sappy.’

you snorted. ‘don’t flatter yourself.’

he grinned. ‘too late.’

but then, quieter, he added, ‘you are happy, right?’

the vulnerability in his voice made your heart squeeze.

so you shifted, leaning in until your forehead rested against his.

‘yeah,’ you whispered. ‘i am.’

his smile softened. ‘good. ’cause i really, really, like you.’

you grinned. ‘yeah? i hadn’t noticed.’

he rolled his eyes but kissed you anyway, slow and unhurried.

and in that moment, with his hand in yours and his lips against yours, you thought.

yeah. this was it.

#football x reader #football one shot #football fluff #football x y/n #football x you #jude bellingham x y/n #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham x reader

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punkitt-is-here · 2 years ago

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i personally have never watched any Ponies stuff before Gen 4, EXCEPT this one YouTube video of Gen 3 titled "Minty being autistic for 6 minutes straight", which is probably in the top 5 most pleasant-to-watch videos i've ever seen.

like i don't know if i would get anything out of the rest of the show, but that video is literally such a great video!!

youtube

this is my new favorite video of all time me and my girlfriend were wheezing laughing at this

#my posts #asks #anon #mlp #holy fuck her laugh is so good #i need to do something with the energy she gives off #dear lord

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saltyb0ba · 1 year ago

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"you always beat the level before me, but i had fun anyways!"

AU/prediction for S5. MK goes beserk in his kaiju form and mei shows him a drawing he made of him and mei back in S1 MK runs to mei to knock her out but he stops just a few feet in front of her when he sees what she's holding.

more AU since i don't think this will happen but there's always a chance!

#i just think it'd be sweet but also would make me cry really hard #knowing uhh LMK it's probably more 10 kings of the underworld focused than MK himself #but you can't just give us the bigass kaiju form capable of fighting off the literal god of the universe and do nothing else with it #mei deserves to save MK after he showed compassion to her in the moments she hurt the most #he showed her love now she must show him love #you can tell im normal about these two as friends. ohhh my god soulmates but in platonic besties way #shaking hands having something inside of them that is capable of wild amounts of energy #therapy also. send them both to therapy they need it #lego monkie kid #lmk #lmk MK #lmk MK kaiju #lmk mei #lego monkie kid MK #lego monkie kid mei #lego monkie kid fanart #lego monkie kid MK fanart #my art #bobasalt

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ednaeflowers · 1 day ago

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She rolls her eyes. ❛ First you're whining about her, then you're defending her. Pick one to do, Lurin. As long as she's actually doing her duties, then it's fine to let her keep pining. Isn't there a human saying about how love makes people do stupid things? ❜ she replies, shrugging with indifference. What does she know about love anyway?

It takes Ludger some time to write up a response to her inquiry, so she isn't surprised to see lots of words scribbled this time. Though, to know that he and his clan can absorb malevolence without becoming a hellion leaves her feeling stunned a bit. It's already known that malevolence can be absorbed by both humans and seraphim, but to not turn into hellions? Such a profound idea——and by humans, at that. Not to mention, a pact with Innominat, the one who came before Maotelus ... Edna is piqued about the origins of how his clan came to be; about what they were trying to accomplish when they first got established.

❛ I had a feeling something must've happened to your voice, ❜ she readily admits. ❛ I've had an Oath myself, but my condition was different, yet very simple. ❜ It wasn't really up to debate for her when she made her Oath, but she knew she had to set up something nonetheless. It definitely wasn't as drastic as his Oath, but it was still something that was acceptable.

Ludger seems a bit ... pensive now. It's understandable, really. After all, Oaths are a double-edged sword. You get power, but you also must do something in return for it. Lailah's sworn to secrecy about Maotelus just to have powers of purification while Edna simply eats peanuts everyday to keep dragon Onii-chan from leaving Rayfalke, and Ludger has to deal with not being able to speak just to become powerful. Edna didn't make her Oath for power like those two, but at least she understands what must be done to keep an Oath. It requires diligence and resolution, and most of all, patience: the patience to endure.

❛ Oaths are meant to give us strength to uphold something, so just see it as a way to hone your writing skills. ❜ She remembers Nova with sparkly eyes. ❛ Or your drawing skills. There's no point in lamenting what's already been done anyway. Just be glad that it doesn't stop you from quelling malevolence because in case you forgot, the only other person who can quell it is stuck in a long slumber until the next Shepherd comes along. ❜ ( Well, there's Rose, but compared to Sorey, she still has a long way to go. )

Where does he get all this energy? She feels tired just from looking at him. ❛ Calm down. It's just food. Maybe you need to eat more than me if you're dozing off. Can't have you falling face first into the pot because you were 'skipping sleep.' That would mean the quality of the food would degrade too. Shame on you, Lurin. If you have a deadline, then why are you still here? ❜

Poor Nova-- everyone he's met seems to agree she's barking up the wrong tree. 'I whine but she's not THAT bad.' Lady Edna's joking sympathy sums up his end, yet he will defend his friend's honor a little. 'Her antics get everyone smiling. Mostly at her expense, but she doesn't mind. Gotta envy that level of wishful thinking despite being a Kresnik herself. Too easy to get jaded.'

And the big question comes: what does a Kresnik like him actually do per day? Ludger's gently biting his finger as he wonders how much to share. Since Lady Edna's a Seraph, telling her wouldn't technically break the rules. Still, some details aren't pleasant... Ludger ends up writing something down, scratching it out, then trying again a handful of times until he gets a page that he's satisfied with.

'The Kresnik Clan's duty is to quell malevolence via a pact with Lord Innominat. The pact grants us the ability to absorb the malevolence around us into our bodies and wield it without becoming hellions. Caveat is we must swear Oaths to reach our full potential since Lord Innominat stepped down as lead Empyrean. Conditions are up to personal preference. You can probably guess mine. ε-(‐ω‐；) Wish I chose differently.'

His Oath wasn't supposed to be so drastic. Alas little 10 year old Ludger thought he understood everything and went behind his brother's back to become a proper Kresnik. And once an Oath is made, there's no going back; breaking it would turn him into an Anomalous Orb. It took a lot of practice not to accidentally use his voice period, but he managed with his brother's support.

Although one day, when he or his brother reached their limit... Ludger planned to tell his brother how much he loved him over and over until he disappeared. Hopefully not anytime soon, though.

--Oh nuts, he completely zoned out, blankly staring down at his notebook that whole time. Uh... something about letting him have a piece, right? He'd never refuse food with company! 'Sorry, nodded off for a second! Been skipping sleep to make my deadline. I humbly accept your generous offer! Should be pretty marinated soon. You excited? Know I am! ( ✧Д✧)'

You'd never tell between his bouncy energy he pulled that excuse outta thin air.

#ofstarsandskies #°˖✧❀ ❛ peace on the mountains. ┊ main verse. ❀✧˖°#edna: ok this means you lost 10% of my friendship 😒#l.ailah and ludger both having puns and oaths of silences as their solidarity 🤝

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mintandcreme · 2 months ago

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I will not get triggered.

#I will actually!#BRUH I usually don’t get pressed over stuff like this too much #Cause at the end of the day it really doesn’t matter and I only care about my own opinion LOLOL #But to the people who are saying that GFriend don’t seem like a unit anymore or Sowon and Yerin aren’t giving it their all is pissing me of #First off Yerin was being mindful of her hair (literally every idol with nice hair will do that) but she still had so much energy and power #Also it’s been a while but I feel like she’s still rebuilding her confidence #It got better in Wavy for sure!#And idk I think she literally looks like she’s performing normally #Same thing for Sowon! She ate! Am I missing something?#And she’s been off the stage for a while too #And all the jazz with Yuju and her vocal regression blah blah #Can we just stop talking about it for a second because she’s improved on so many other fronts #She might not belt as well anymore but other parts of her range have improved #And do y’all hear her vocals on their new song?#I don’t know maybe I’m looking at them through rose tinted glasses and am being biased and an annoying fan who defends their idols a lot #But idk I think they did amazing for having such a packed schedule and still being so synchronized and everything #And obviously idols will have days where they don’t have the best stage and that’s okay #Maybe I need to calm down lol #But they still seemed very GFriend to me #And the complaints about the new song but whatever #I’m the CEO of complaining but I just want o enjoy everything that they’ve given us so far :)#Let’s wait for promotions and the concert to see :)#GFriend

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moinsbienquekaworu · 4 months ago

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If I didn't already have multiple drawings I want to finish I'd start a series of Constant interacting with their companions. I already have ideas and everything!!

#constant being my darling tiefling druid tav. my beloved.#i'll share the activities cause i'm sooo proud of myself for finding something for everyone lol #because constant wants to make friends!! okay!! they want to be on good terms with everyone #they make up stories and chats and have a drink with wyll. they're doing fanfic but out loud #with karlach they make up little games and dances and occasionally they try to sew plushies or clothes for Clive #gale loves answering questions and constant loves asking them. match made in heaven #they share space with shadowheart. like we're both reading our own books and occasionally commenting on the stupid characters #astarion nitpicks their handwriting and they watch the sunrise together #lae'zel is a practical woman who gives fighting lessons to the companions she feels need them #but in her off time when she's sharpening blades and practicing her forms constant does inventory and such #and bonus halsin: they do various kinds of sculpting together. constant is a potter! they'd love to do some woodcarving as well #bonus 2: if they've got the energy (wildshape charges) at the end of the day and don't feel like human interaction #they'll turn into a cuddleable animal and cuddle up to someone #wow i have an ocs tag now #bg3

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boxoftheskyking · 8 days ago

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Might I give some advice:

Not everyone has (or needs to have) the energy to thoughtfully respond to republicans on the Internet. You do not have to do that.

But some people do, and can. And I think we gotta let them.

An example:

I have a former teacher, I'll call her Grace, who is an incredibly kind woman in her 70s. Devout catholic, had voted for various parties over the years, but has been pretty strictly democrat over the past 15-20 because that aligns with her values of kindness and service.

She shared a post about the pope's recent letter and expressed that she agreed with his concerns about how trump is treating immigrants. A friend of hers commented a long paragraph basically saying "dear Grace I care for you but I don't understand how you can be a Christian and a democrat. Blah blah abortion blah blah gender blah blah drugs."

Grace replied "I'm very busy right now but I am going to respond to you soon with my thoughts". When she did it was an incredibly generous, rational monologue that connected with this person's humanity, their shared religious values, and made a beautiful case for why she supports who she does. I didn't agree with a good half of what she said as I am not a Christian, but the result was an expression of values that I think put her on the side of justice and compassion.

The person replied and thanked her and said she had a lot to think about. It was probably the best case scenario for a Facebook politics conversation

You know what came very close to ruining it? A bunch of (mostly younger) people piling on with "fuck you you racist maga pos" and "no one has to explain anything to you, go to hell" etc etc. Even after Grace wrote that she intended to reply herself.

I watched this republican respond to all the easy, quick insults by saying "this is why I don't think any democrats can be Christian, this is how you all speak to me." If Grace hadn't put so much work into writing her response in a way that was tailored to fit this person, I would not be surprised if that person left Facebook doubly certain that Christian nationalism is the way to go.

I'm not saying we can't cuss out jackasses. I'm not saying everyone needs to respond to bad faith arguments like Grace did or use their time like she did.

But this was on Grace's Facebook page, and interrupted the work she already volunteered to do. Just so these individuals could feel like they "did something" and got a shot off at an enemy.

I think that's selfish and childish and unproductive. They could have said anything they wanted in their own space, but they made grace's job harder for no fuckin reason. And then "loved" her reply and said "that was beautiful Grace, thank you for sharing your thoughts"

Like... Buddies. Pals. If someone volunteers to scrub the toilet fucking let them.

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nightingale-prompts · 6 months ago

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Danny adopts himself

It's a common joke in Gotham that Bruce Wayne will adopt any black-haired and blue-eyed traumatized boy he finds. So much so that even he leans into it. But he was completely shocked when Damian confronts him about having a new brother that he did not want.

Bruce could barely get a word in when the rest of the family arrived upset that they weren't told about getting another sibling after Damian texted the family group chat (for once).

Damian had encountered a boy around Drake's age moving stuff into what was an empty room. The room was now furnished top to bottom with glowing green lights, tapestries of stars, random artifacts, several telescopes, and model rockets.

He knew the moment he saw the black hair and blue eyes that his father had taken in another ward.

Apparently Bruce was the last the know about his new "son" who was currently rearranging furniture and asking to help Alfred with dinner.

Said dinner was an uncomfortable as Bruce was grilled by his kids on his addiction to adoption. Simultaneously they tried to get to know the new addition to the family.

It was easy to see that Damian didn't like Danny but it was equally easy to see that Danny could cow the boy like a border collie on a lamb. When Damian thew a dagger the teen caught it with one hand as it passed his face and then slid it across the table back to Damian.

"Try again. " Danny said "And this time don't aim to miss on purpose. If you want me dead you need to do better."

Damian put the knife away and huffed.

Tim and Danny hit it off almost instantly. The way they were able to bounce their thoughts back and forth made Tim believe that he found an equal.

Danny was able to understand Cassie immediately with just look in eachothers eyes like he was reading her mind but not in a creepy way.

Jason of course noticed the strange energy in the air around the kid. It was soothing. Like lavender wafting in the air. Well lavender for everyone else for him it was like opium. His eyes felt heavy like he had eaten a handful of poppy seeds. At the same time he felt full, like he had eating a full meal after starving for a week.

Whatever it is Damian was feeling it too. The demon looked even more his age as he rubbed his eyes and yawned. The crease in his brow gone.

Duke on the other hand was more on edge as his eyes flickered towards Danny before looking away. He had something he wanted to ask about the glowing boy but since no one can see it or just isn't saying anything he will keep quiet for now.

Next was Barbara who teased the new kid.

"So how do you like your new family? Ready to be the new robin?" She asked.

"Im robin." Damian mumbled groggily.

The others were waiting for Damian to finally fall asleep and glared at one another in a challenge to be the one to pick up Damian and put him to bed. Dick was winning.

Speaking of Dick, as expected he was off the wall excited to learn more about his new little brother. He wanted the full story as to why Bruce took him in. He could almost certainly guess it was because of a tragic situation and Dick was already ready to handle it as the greatest big brother ever and he wasn't sharing the title no matter what Barbara said. Even if she was Stephanie's favorite.

Bruce cleared his throat and the table went silent. "So, Danny. Where exactly did you come from? Why are you here? And how did you know who I am?"

Everyone went white. Did they all just risk their identities believing that Danny was a new Robin? Why didn't Bruce say something? Not even a signal for the protocol they would use.

Danny frowned looking a bit hurt.

"What do you mean, Bruce? You said you owed me. You said you'd give me anything I wanted if saved your son. I even helped you get back home when you got lost in time." Danny huffed feeling betrayed.

The table went silent.

Bruce made a few calculations in his brain before something must have come to mind. "I lost my memory for a bit so I need a bit of proof."

Danny placed a batarang on the table. The batarang had an engraving on it in a code that only Bruce knew.

"You told me to show this to Alfred when I came. We had a deal, Bruce. You promised me whatever I wanted." Danny huffed clearly insulted.

Just like Danny had said the code was the one Bruce had made. However this code wasn't a promise to grant a favor but to welcome someone new to the family. Past Bruce must have had plans to take the boy in but told Danny something else to lure him here.

Bruce recognized that everyone was right and he has a problem now that he's looking at it like this.

#dp x dc prompt #dc x dp prompt #dpxdc #dc x dp #danny phantom #danny fenton #batman #damian wayne #bruce wayne #jason todd #nightwing #red hood #duke thomas #tim drake #red robin

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meganegatari · 3 months ago

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is this vore? /hj. hi. im gonna squeet. and dunk my head into ice water digital footprint pls forgive me. may have wrote this with one hand IM JOKING. this is just somethin quick because i need to get it out of my system ok.

nsfw drabble—biting sev all over ♡ sub!sevika, edging, fingering (all s! receiving), idk what else girl i can't see straight cuz of her...

and there she lay before you, bare and twitching, in a state she's kept very well hidden from everyone—except you.

her lip tucked under her teeth, head thrown back and half-lidded, blown out eyes lazily following your movements; she was laying sprawled on the mattess. she had tried and failed to hold herself up, both arms trembling under her weight until they eventually gave out.

this was the result of you—oh, how evil you were—edging the poor woman for an eternity. in actuality, you had tortured her to such a point she didn't even have the energy to bark orders at you like she usually does.

all she could do, was whine. whines of your name, wordless huffs and quiet pleas were all she could sound out. and every so often she'd squirm under you and break eye contact when you did something so obscene, even she couldn't handle it.

you wore the most wicked of sneers on your face excitedly, using all your strength to push her thick muscular thighs outward, until you gazed upon a sight worth winning wars for.

the torture you faced her with had her pussy throbbing. no, that was an understatement. you could see every individual muscle controlling her shiny lips jump at the cool air, you could see the way her clit was nearly whispering for you to touch it, and not to mention the pooling of pearlescent slick dribbling out of her pulsating hole, making a literal puddle under her ass.

now this? this was a never going to get old. you'd plaster the image of her fucked-out self on every surface, take a polaroid and carry it around with you. you were salivating. drool was almost running down your chin at the sight.

but alas, your blissful trance was cut short, by none other than her gruff voice.

"hey. you gonna stare or am i gonna have to finish this myself?" her voice shook, then her eyes darkened and she spat, "you'd like watching that though, wouldn't you. fuckin'—holy-!!"

you didn't give her the time of day to listen to her bitching about, and you cut her off by lunging forward and sinking your teeth into the soft flesh of her right inner thigh.

her shocked intake of air quickly turned into a pornographic moan, her back arching, her breathing quickening, and her thighs fighting to close around your head.

you knew that was her weakness. your teeth in her skin? pff she was a goner. you used that to your advantage as much as you could, she deserved earth shattering orgasms just as much as the next gal.

her noises were bordering on a shriek as soon as you circled her hole with a digit, grinning into her skin at the way she was sucking you in, legitimately trapping your finger inside her.

you felt the flutters of an impending orgasm tickle your immobilized finger, and with great effort you removed your mouth from her thigh and pulled your finger out.

the look on her face when you did that felt sharper than if she had stabbed a spear right through your heart. when sevika gives one of her famed death glares, the word stops spinning. but you being you, it just spurs you on more.

before she can protest you migrate up and place gentle kisses on the side of her neck, right on her pulse point, as a soothing motion before you did what you really wanted.

you sank your teeth in her flesh as hard as your jaw allowed you to, the tangy taste of her blood invading your mouth.

simultaneously, you brought your hand back down to her neglected pussy, pushed your thumb up against her thumping clit, and slid your two middle digits inside her—within moments finding her spongy sweet spot.

the cries of pleasure were stuck in her throat, and you couldn't see from what you were doing, but you'd bet your entire life's savings that her eyes were rolled so far back in her skull only the whites would be visible.

your fingers were working hard, all in harmony to bring her to that peak she so craved, and luckily it hit her after no time at all.

her whole being tensed, a low groan reverberated through the room as one of her hands flew to grab a chunk of your hair, further pushing your body flush against hers. you didn't move your mouth, it was suctioned against her in such a way that was guaranteed to leave a nasty bruise on her skin the next day, but she loved it. you did as well.

you felt a gush of warm fluid on your palm, and chuckled into her skin while she shook all over, needy, animalistic noises being all she could produce.

you put in the work and made sure she was utterly spent, then lifted yourself off of her to enjoy the look on her face. she looked so at peace, so satisfied and ethereal, you adored her more than words could ever say.

and likewise, she did you. she cracked open one eye and smiled widely, opening her arms and beckoning for you to lay back on top of her in an embrace.

naturally, you did just that. eagerly burying your face in the crook of your neck, you kissed over the bite mark you left, ran your tongue over the indents in her skin and reveled in the little whimpers she made.

she always had more flesh you could lovingly bite, why stop at just one square inch?

sev taglist (not tagging everyone still cuz YALL SIGNED UP FOR TLOU AND IM A PEOPLE PLEASERRRR SORRY): @fizyypopp @luvssliyahh @wizard-pdf @dearangxl @melsmunch

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steddiealltheway · 2 months ago

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As soon as Steve hears the phone ring, he sighs.

Robin is away visiting her family in Kentucky for the holidays, and the only other person to ever call would be...

"Dustin," Steve says, his free hand coming up to rest on his hip, "why are you calling?"

There's a pause on the other line before Dustin whines, "How do you always know when it's me."

"Because your irritating energy bleeds through the phone."

Another pause. "You got that from Robin, didn't you?"

Yes. He did. Sue him for wanting to be witty and taking a few notes from Robin. "What do you want?"

"Okay, so..." Oh boy. "I've been meaning to talk to Suzie for a while now, and we made plans not to talk on Christmas because she would be with her family all day, and I knew my mom wouldn't want me to be away for too long so-"

"The point, Dustin."

Dustin mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like multiple curse words before continuing, "The point is that I'm taking Cerebro to that hill, but I'm going to need a ride."

Steve frowns, walking toward the nearest window until the phone cord is fully stretched so he can pull a curtain open. He winces a bit at the bright light. "Dustin, it's freezing out, and the hill will be covered in snow."

"You would've done the same for Nancy!"

Steve's eyebrows raise. "Not the best approach if you want a ride, dude."

"I'm not trying to approach the whole you and Nancy thing. I'm trying to make a point," Dustin emphasizes a little too loudly into the phone. "You would do anything if you were in love! Even sit out in the snow for a few hours just so you can talk to the person you love."

"Have you ever heard of the phone?"

"Have you heard the number of siblings she has that would jump at the opportunity to listen in on our call? Plus, Cerebro is our thing."

Steve really wishes Dustin were in front of him, so he could see the way his cheeks are flushing during this exact moment. "You just like using your Cebro thing because it makes it feel like your love is forbidden."

"I do not!"

"Alright, Romeo," Steve says with a laugh, "I'll give you a ride. If you promise to only be there for an hour."

"Not including the time it takes to get there, set it up, and leave."

Steve sighs and knocks the phone against his head for a second before reluctantly agreeing, "Yes, but you better be bundled up so much that you're sweating out there. I don't want to hear you complain." He also secretly worries about the kid getting frostbite or something, but he'd never admit to it.

"Fine I'll see you in an hour?"

"Yeah, I'll see you then," Steve says as Dustin hangs up. "A thank you would've been nice..."

He really hopes he doesn't regret this.

-:-:-:-:-:-

When Dustin climbs in the car, he's bundled from head to toe but still manages to laugh at Steve who is wearing the same amount of layers as him. "Look in the mirror," Steve comments dryly before driving off.

The drive there isn't too long, and although Steve saw Dustin a few days ago - after Claudia insisted he spend Christmas with them instead of home alone - he's kind of glad to hang out with Dustin again. It's not often he gets a lot of one-on-one time with the kid anymore.

Which is why Steve is particularly bitchy when he pulls up to the familar area below the hill and find a familar van there.

"Dustin..."

"I didn't think you would agree to take me here and stay! So, I asked Eddie to give me a ride back this morning-"

"This morning?"

"And he said he was already going to be in the area and wanted to briefly meet Suzie and my Cerebro, so he's here now! And if you want, you can just drop me off. Think of it as a late Christmas gift."

Steve shakes his head. "And leave you in Munson's capable hands only to find out you two froze to death? No thanks." He gets out of the car with thoughts of a mourning Claudia Henderson on his mind.

"We wouldn't freeze to death!" Dustin practically shouts as he climbs out.

At that same moment, Eddie exits from his van, wearing his usual attire, only with maybe an extra added layer - a leather jacket.

Steve turns to Dustin, raising his eyebrows and gesturing toward Munson. Dustin sighs before going to the trunk to dig out all the different Cerebro parts.

Before Steve can join him, Eddie approaches him with a big smile. "Steve Harrington. Looking awfully toasty."

Steve rolls his eyes in response before openning his car door and reaching toward the back, grabbing the spare pair of gloves and a hat that he keeps whenever Robin forgets the extra layers - which is often. He hands them to Eddie without a word then helps Dustin grab his things before heading to their snow covered destination.

Eddie only lasts a few minutes up the hill before he manages to push into Steve's space while Dustin hurries ahead of them. "So, you look happy to see me."

"Just peachy, Munson."

Eddie snorts. "I'm guessing Dustin didn't tell you I would be tagging along when you got here?"

"And I'm guessing Dustin didn't tell you I was planning on staying."

"Actually," Eddie says, nudging Steve's shoulder, "I told him you would jump at the opportunity to hang out with him, and there was no way you would drop him off to freeze to death."

Steve narrows his eyes as he looks at Eddie.

Eddie shifts things around in his arms to grab his shirt and jacket and lift them up enough to show off some of his scarred skin. "Our matching battle scars will forever bound us, Steve. I wonder if the bats gave us telepathic abilities," he says, way too cheery for Steve's liking.

"If it did, then I would teleport up to the top of the hill right now."

"Telepathic means the ability to read each other's minds. The word you're thinking of is 'teleportation.'" Eddie corrects him without judgement - something Steve's always found surprising.

"Oh. Then guess what I'm thinking about right now."

Eddie hums before leaning in to mumble in his ear. "You're thinking about getting a piece of this."

Steve laughs and shoves him away. He's glad it's cold out so he blame his blush on the cold. For some reason, he's still not entirely immune to Eddie's flirting. "Definitely not what I was thinking about."

"You are now," Eddie teases.

Steve swallows heavily, pressing down those thoughts and many... many.... images. "I think you're confusing my thoughts for your own thoughts."

"Tell me about it," Eddie sighs dramatically.

Steve is relieved when he sees they've reached the top of the hill. He's even more relieved when Dustin doesn't ask for his help to put Cerebro together, but Eddie is all too happy to help while calling Dustin a genius - in various annoying, dramatic ways.

It's not long before Dustin is awaiting Suzie's response while Eddie bounces on his feet. Steve's not sure if it's from excitement or being cold - probably both.

"Dusty bun?"

Dustin's face lights up in a way that is entirely too endearing for Steve's heart to handle. The jedi has learned the art of love from the master - or something like that. "Suzie poo! I'm here with Steve and Eddie for the next few moments. Eddie wants to say hello."

Steve frowns and raises his voice, "I want to say hello, too! Eddie just wants to be dramatic about it."

"Because I haven't had the pleasure of meeting the lady," Eddie argues before turning up the charm. "Suzie, it's a pleasure. I'm sure you've heard nothing but wonderful things about me just like I've heard nothing but wonderful things about you. Unlike Steve over here who you've probably never heard a good thing about."

"Hi, Eddie, it's nice to meet you," Suzie replies, giggling. "And hi Steve!"

"Hey, Suze. Don't let Eddie win you over with his charm just yet. It's bad for his ego."

"You think I'm charming?" Eddie asks, batting his eyelashes.

Steve makes a see? gesture before realizing Suzie can't see him.

"Alright," Dustin says, "Now they're going to leave us alone for the next hour."

"Hour? It's already been at least five minutes," Steve complains.

Eddie grabs him by the shoulders and steers him away. "Don't worry, Suzie! I'll make sure you get the fulll hour!"

Steve lets Eddie guide him a little down the hill, ignoring when Suzie asks, "Do they always bicker like an old married couple?"

When they get a comfortable distance away, where they're out of earshot but Steve can still see Dustin to make sure he doesn't freeze to death, Steve sits on the ground. He glances up after he gets as comfortable as he can get on the side of a hill, only to find Eddie frowning down at him.

"What?" Steve asks.

Eddie shrugs. "Doesn't seem fair that you get to sit on the ground, and I can't."

Steve's eyes scan over Eddie's body. "Not my fault that you didn't wear a long enough jacket to cover your ass when you sit."

"Not my fault that I wasn't born into a wealthy family that can afford those jackets."

Steve's stomach flips, but he knows Eddie isn't looking for an apology. "Why don't you sit in your van then?"

"Wouldn't want to miss my chance to hang out alone with Steve Harrington," Eddie says with a wink.

Steve nearly scoffs and gives him a snarky reply, but his thoughts go out the window when he notices Eddie's teeth chattering. "Shit," he mutters.

"What was that?"

Steve groans and stands up before unzipping his large jacket.

"Am I in a dream?" Eddie jokes, but his voice shakes a bit.

"You're about to be living one," Steve says dryly as he stands in front of Eddie and opens his coat. Eddie just stares at him. Steve huffs out a breath that becomes visible in the cold air between them. "Come here."

"What?"

Steve raises his eyebrows at Eddie before tugging at his coat. But Eddie continues to stare at him with wide wandering eyes. "I'm not letting you freeze to death up here, so come here before I tell Dustin to pack it up because you're cold."

Eddie crosses his arms a little tighter. "I'm f-fine." A shiver visibly runs through Eddie's body.

Steve rolls his eyes for what feels like the hundreth time this day and wraps Eddie in his jacket before he can protest.

He's stiff for a moment, then Eddie relaxes enough to wrap his arms around Steve who is able to close the jacket around them. They linger in each other's arms long enough that Eddie stops shivering and Steve wonders how much time Dustin has left with Suzie.

"Better?" Steve asks to break the silence.

He feels Eddie nod over his shoulder before he pulls back enough to look him in the eye, nose brushing against Steve's as he whispers, "I know something we could do to keep ourselves warm."

Steve's heart beats a little faster in his chest.

Eddie laughs and tucks his head into Steve neck, his lips far away enough from Steve's that it's no longer the only thing on Steve's mind. With the new brain space, he can feel Eddie drum a nervous rhythm onto his back and bounce a little on his face. He wonders if maybe Eddie was onto the whole scars making them read each other's minds thing because he swears he knows the first part of what Eddie's about to say before he says it.

"Sorry if that was too much. No guy has ever let me flirt at them the way you do."

Steve gets stuck on flirt at and, "No guy?"

Eddie lets out a short humorless laugh. "No guy."

And for some reason, Steve has to ask, "Has any guy let you kiss them before?"

Eddie pulls back to look at him with a frown tugging at the corners of his lips. "What are you getting at, Steve?"

Steve glances at Eddie's lips, slightly chapped but they've never looked more inviting. Maybe it's time to listen to Robin's knowing looks whenever Eddie is around and Steve finds himself simultaneously drawn to him while also wanting to run to the bathroom with Robin to have another floor talk. "What if one guy let you kiss them?"

"Steve..." Eddie whispers, his eyes flicking over his shoulder.

Steve turns to find Dustin, facing away from them. Still he loosens his hold on Eddie and says, "Wrap your arms around my neck instead of my back."

Eddie does as he's told, and Steve gives him no warning before saying, "Hopefully this goes alright." Then, he slightly picks up Eddie before falling back, letting the snow break their fall as he lays back with Eddie on top of him.

"That went better than I thought it would," Steve says with a big smile then asks, "Can Dustin see us?"

Eddie glances up and shakes his head.

"Perfect," Steve says, heart practically beating out of his chest when Eddie looks down at him. When he doesn't make a move, Steve can't help but tease, "So you really are all bark, no bite."

"Shut up, Harrington," Eddie says before finally kissing him.

For only a moment, Steve nearly laughs at the fact that Eddie Munson told him to shut up. But then his brain goes nearly haywire yet completely silent when Eddie's lips meet his in what he thinks might be the single most transformative kiss of his life.

His arms tighten around Eddie's back, and Eddie's hands move to cup the back of his head as they deepen the kiss. Somehow, laying in snow, Steve has never felt warmer.

They eventually break the first kiss reluctantly, both of them going back to steal more as they catch their breath, which turns into laughter and giggles between more kisses. Then, Eddie breaks away long enough to say, "You know, the van is seeming like a really great option at the moment."

"And Dustin's a smart kid. He knows how to not freeze to death," Steve says, kissing Eddie every chance he gets.

"You're right. No need to stay here in the snow," Eddie replies.

"Right."

Neither of them make a move to get up, but they both move to kiss again.

It's only a little while later before they hear Dustin yell out, "Guys?" And that's when they finally break away.

Eddie pops up first and calls out, "Yeah?"

"Let's pack up! It's been over an hour! Come on!"

Steve pulls Eddie back down into the snow one more time for a kiss before stomping up the hill. "Alright, alright. We thought you'd be happier that we gave you more time and that we both waited for you."

"it's cold," Dustin complains.

Steve nods, but he still feels warm.

Eddie joins a few moments later, stealing glances at Steve before asking Dustin what they're doing next.

"I'm thinking we change out of our snow clothes and get food somewhere maybe..." Dustin trails off and frowns at Eddie. "Why are you covered in snow?"

"We were making a snow angel?" Eddie hurriedly says.

Steve tries not to laugh.

"One?" Dustin asks.

Eddie nods. "You'll see it on the way down."

Sure enough, on the way down, they all see one horribly disfigured snow angel.

While Steve laughs and Eddie smiles proudly, Dustin shakes his head and mutters something like more curses to himself. In a volume that's able to be picked up by the other boys, he asks, "Eddie, you'll drop me off at my house, and we'll meet back up in an hour at my house?"

"Hour and a half," Steve says. When Dustin opens his mouth to complain, Steve explains, "I need to take a shower so I don't get pnemonia. Plus, I'm not letting my hair freeze on my way to your house."

"Fine," Dustin sighs. "See you then."

"See you then," Eddie echoes to Steve, winking at him once.

Soon after Steve gets home, he hears a knock on the front door, and when it's Eddie on the other side, Steve pulls him in and says, "Maybe you were right about the telek- tele-"

"Telekentic abilities?"

Steve nods as he closes the door behind Eddie and traps him against it. "I definitely know what you're thinking about now."

Eddie cocks his head to the side and wraps his arms around Steve's neck. "Yeah? What am I thinking about?"

"Kissing me again," Steve says, leaning in.

"Actually," Eddie says turning his head away, "I was thinking about a lemon."

"Crazy. I happen to have lemon scented body wash," Steve comments as he grabs Eddie's hands and tugs him up the stairs.

They're both a little late to Dustin's house. And maybe their hair freezes a bit.

But Dustin was right. There's a lot of things Steve would do for love.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie ficlet #dustin henderson

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