#that'll just be my talking tag i guess

[felsicveins]

Wah!!! Sorry I havent been posting so much!! I've mostly been drawing stuff that I can't post . . On here ; D but I'll get back to it soon

[savventeen]

would anyone be interested in seeing my placeholder "chapter" titles for my upcoming socmed au bc i Desperately want to talk about it but also don't want to spoil it so..

if it helps, it's going to be called "Thanks For Playing" and will be a tragic chan x reader horror story (not in the gory way but in like the emotional/psychological way), but it starts out fun and silly

also the titles out of context are hilarious to me haha

also also by "socmed au" i mean it's all text convos with some written parts sprinkled in

[neverendingford]

.

[melody-love-sketch]

All of your posts are hermitcraft now, I just won't take this, get unfollowed

not that i answer asks much at all but lmao buddy, pal, friendo- i literally be scrollin through my all socials like a sugar crazed kid loose in a candy store, a black bear breaking into a quiet unattended gas station late at night for the sweet, sweet grub, caution to the wind(somewhat) just a lil creature with a gremlin brain scrambling to consume whatever happy or at least interesting enough posts i so choose; free to change my mind whenever.

i see pretty art, i psuh button! one day it's Deltarune, next it's minecraft subfandoms, then it's whatever. "i am cringe but i am free" yadda yadda, et cetera and all that jazz

edit: also forgot to add before postin but i got like 25+ tabs of tumblr up on my phone browser for years now, each bein the tag page for diff fandoms(deltarune, splatoon, minecraft, the owl house, whatever latest animation, etc) and just a couple at most on my pc...i cant escape tumblr, tumblr cant escape me lol

[bunny-jpeg]

the dnf club (vol. 4)

lance stroll

tags: smut/pwp, brazil gp '24, mating press, car sex, breast play, hickies & bites, semi-public sex, dirty talk, mentions of children

a/n: thank you for the warm reception for the others in this little series! i'm always open to hearing about what ideas you may have. my inbox is open <3

carlos edition // franco edition // alex edition // nico edition

you know this was defeating for lance. the kind of defeating that left you feeling horrible for your boyfriend. while he wasn't going to win the wdc, it was important to have a good season. and when you watched the red flag be drawn and him hauled back to the paddock. you only knew how to be there for him.

while he seated to cool off, you pressed yourself up against him. the level he was at meant that your breasts were in his face. and while it was an innocent action. lance grabbed your ass when no one was looking. you knew what would happen tonight, to get the anger out from a shitty performance.

you two barely got to the car before lance was all over you. he practically guided you into the backseat. the car was in a far part of the parking lot and with tinted windows. it was a tad cramped back there but you two would make due. especially when lance got his hands on you.

"you really are my number one fan, huh? but i guess you're much more than that. you're everything to me." he pushed up your t-shirt to expose your bra underneath. a black lacy number that made the blood rush south for lance, "anything i want, you give. quite an admirable thing." he got the bra off of you and his mouth on your chest. he tongue grazed across your nipples. he gave them both attention before he started to leave heavy marks across your chest.

he wanted to mark you. he wanted to see pretty bruises on your chest that'll last for days on end. and when they faded, he would just add more. he felt the disappointment of such a horrible loss. he didn't even get a place in the race, he couldn't complete it. and it made emotion swirl in his gut as he rubbed your thigh. soon enough you got your jeans off and your panties. you were left naked in the backseat with your lover at the track.

"you look prettier with my marks." he said as he pressed one of the bruises on your collarbone, "the kind of pretty that makes me go crazy. thank you, thank you." he groaned, "for letting me take out all the anger."

you cupped his face and looked into his dark eyes, you said to him, "you'd never actually hurt me, lance. so i'm not worried." then kissed him square on the mouth. you helped him out of his jeans and his aston martin t-shirt. you were pressed into the back corner of the backseat with your taller boyfriend crowded in your space. he took you by the legs and pressed them into your chest.

it allowed him to hit your pussy at just the right area, exposed in the air of the car. slowly the windows started to fog up as he sank into you. his cock really did hit every right place inside of you. the blunt head rubbed up against your g-spot as he started to move his hips up against your ass.

and then like butter over popcorn, the anger melted off of his shoulders. he groaned as he rutted against you. while it wasn't the more comfortable position, it was enough to get the two of you going. you felt the fire in your gut as he moved against you.

"fuck, baby." he said as he worked his hips against you, "you feel like a dream under me." his words were tense as pleasure combed through his body. there was something about you that just got him riled up. even on his worst days, he still had you. he had all of you. he allowed himself to bask in what made you amazing and fuck you until he got his fill. he could feel the pleasure on his tongue and seep into his blood.

you whined, "please, lance. we have to be quiet." then felt him hit just the right spots that made you tense up and moan. your bruised nipples got hard and the additional feeling made the pleasure run faster through you.

the air of the car got warm as the two of you moved together. the sex was hot and with your knees to your chest the pleasure only got more intense.

"next year.' you panted, "it'll go great. you'll get them next time." you moaned as lance continued to thrust up against you in just the right way. you felt the hammer in your chest as he continued to fuck you with heavy thrusts.

"it will." he said, "and then we'll celebrate the victory. you, me and a nice hotel bed. maybe some champagne, maybe i'll even tie you up." he chuckled, "i bet you'd love that. if i took my belt and put it around those pretty wrists."

you clenched around him and he got his answer. he continued to fuck you, bully the blunt head of his cock against your most softest areas. he knew exactly how to make you feel good. let the dirty words come off his tongue. you whined and he chuckled lowly.

"ah, i bet you'd love that. even if i lost next year. you'd still let me mark up your little body. let me ruin that sweet fucking cunt." he groaned, "fuck, you feel amazing. you know i'd give you anything you needed or wanted. everything i have is yours. and everything you have in mine." he shuddered with a heavy want as he continued to fuck you achy cunt.

the sounds of sex filled the car, and the scent of sweat paired with it. the car rocked a little as he moved and you tried to meet his thrusts. his weight pressed on you as he had you in a mating press. your pussy exposed in the low light coming from the parking garage. the sight of you under him was beautiful. you were so perfect for him, you'd happily give yourself over to him at any chance. let him use that sweet cunt for stress relief.

"fuck, lance." you moaned as the pace was picked up. you knew you weren't going to last much longer. the pleasure was a thick throb in your head as he fucked you. his lips captured any skin he could find. trailed them across your cheeks and jaw. he even laid a small hickey on the curve of your jawbone. which made you grow even more wet.

he gave a few more thrusts because he slammed his entire length into your achy cunt and finished inside of you. but he wasn't going to leave you without pleasure. he continued to rut up against you. he could feel the fire in his gut as he moved against you. your noises got a bit ore higher pitched as you felt the slam of pleasure inside of your needy core.

you whimpered and whined as he continued to rut up against you. he fucked you through your orgasm, and even a second orgasm for himself. he made sure that not a drop was wasted as he slowed to a stop. he pulled out and when your hips dropped, a bit of his cum got onto the leather of the seated.

you both panted heavily. lance eyed your naked body. you looked at him and his dark eyes soon lingered on you. he pulled you in for another heated kiss and you knew this wasn't going to be the only round tonight. you just hoped that the rest of them would be somewhere a little more comfortable.

-

you watched lance pull into second place at the 2025 brazil grand prix. you stood with the rest of the team and when he crossed the finish line, everyone cheered. and you looked to the baby in your arms.

he was sound asleep despite his father's near victory. your little escapade in the backseat of the car led to the eventually birth of your son three months ago. he was asleep in your arm, ears covered with noise cancelling headphones while lance was having a stellar season.

"he did it, daddy got podium." you whispered to your son.

you kissed the baby on his round little face and heard lance over the radio. you knew this year would be better, and that was becoming fact. <3

[phyrestartr]

Deal With It (P.1) | Gojo x M!Reader |

W/C: 2.8k C/W: depictions of self-harm, depictions of depression, poor mental health, stress, mental illness, arranged marriage, hostile relationships, smoking, language, violence Tags: SFW, hurt/comfort, drama, canon-typical violence, character growth, eventual romantic feelings, eventual fluff and good vibes, kouhai gojo, senpai reader, plot and lore

Tag List: @pleniluneg4ze @aizen-lover @easnowpw @tomiokasecretlover @snoweclipsese @mef0rg0r @soulsire @kiiyoooo @reiluvr @fricking-ur-mom @cucumbertoptier @enchantingkitty @mira-la-sol @deepestartisanhumanoidshark @animadi888 @cloudserenity @sageofspades @dietothemusic @prettorett @animadi888 @playboygeniusphilanthropist @chikai-k @starrykie

1.

“So, you really don’t care what he thinks?” Shoko asked as you lit her cigarette. “Even I think he was kinda harsh.”

You pocketed your lighter and leaned back against the cold college walls. “He’s got a thing for that black-haired guy.”

“Getou.” 

“Sure.” You shrugged and tried to rub the ache out of your neck as you stared up at the bleak, grey skies. The air reeked of petrichor. Thankfully you’d brought an umbrella that day. 

“And you’re not bothered he’s in love with Getou?” Your friend continued, her cute bobbed haircut swaying with the tilt of her head. She always looked so charming like that, when she was being a mischievous brat while pretending to be anything but. 

“Dunno.” And that was the truth. “He’s not even my type. I’d rather hitch up with someone like you or Nanami. Someone less annoying. Less loud-mouthed.” 

“Ooh, that'll hurt his ego.” Shoko smiled. “Well, guess you'll have to learn to deal with it.”

You took a deep breath and rubbed your face as you nodded. “Yeah.”

–

“Forever is a long time,” You mumbled, leaning your forehead against the cool touch of the window. Rain pittered and pattered, exploding off the glass like trillions of kamikaze planes. It almost birthed some sort of hurt in your chest. Best not to dwell on it, you decided.

“Hah? Are you talking to yourself again like a weirdo?” The one and only Gojo Satoru yowled before kicking you in the rear like a petulant child. “Pft! Figures. Knowing my luck, I would have to get married to a creeper.” 

“Even if you married Getou, you'd still be marrying a creep,” you grumbled, dusting the dirt off your behind. “You need something? Or did you harass me just for the fun of it?” 

You heard Gojo, your fiancé, scoff and shuffle behind you. “I just wanted to remind you to humble yourself! Just because I'm forced to marry you doesn't mean you're accomplished or cool or anything, got it?” 

Being in his presence had you craving a cigarette. “Yeah, got it.” 

“And Suguru's better than you,” he added, aloof voice bowing down beneath hardened, steeled words. “Don't forget that either.” 

You bit down on your cheek to ward away the heat building under your skin, the magma sinking deep into your eyesockets and threatening to pour down your esophagus. The taste of iron washed against your tongue, and you released your flesh from between your molars. Sometimes, you wanted to keep boring down on yourself to see how much you could really take, but a fear of the answer too often made you think twice. 

“This is starting to bore me,” you said, tilting your head as you caught a flicker of red in your rain-muddied reflection. You touched your fingers to your tongue and found blood coating the tips. 

“Pah. I was gonna say the same!” You watched his reflection turn away. “Good luck trying to impress me.” 

I'm not interested. You watched him walk away, slouching and with his hands in his pockets like he was emulating some kind of yankii character. He might have fit the bill, if he hadn't had such a ridiculous, brat side to him.

Just deal with it. You wiped the red on your uniform with a sigh. Tomorrow's a new day. 

—

“Sorry about Satoru,” Getou said. He'd found you outside, tucked close against the stone wall with a cigarette in your mouth as you watched the downpour. Apparently, he liked the rain, too. 

“You don't need to apologize,” you said after a drag. “It's not your fault.” Probably. 

The younger sorcerer smiled a little bit wider. “In a way, it almost is; Satoru wouldn't be coming after you if it weren't for my, ah, sheer existence, I guess you could say.”

You shrugged. “You didn't ask to exist,” you said, secretly cringing as the words left your mouth.

Getou laughed. “Ho, that's a good point, I didn't think about it that way.” Another chuckle left him as he leaned against the wall beside you and stared at the rain. “It's definitely Satoru's fault, then.”

You hummed in agreement and offered him a cigarette. He blinked, but plucked one out of the box and looked it over before fumbling to tuck the end into his mouth as you held the lighter's flame out for him. You blocked the wind as he leaned in and inhaled deeply until the butt hissed to life with molten red. A beat later, Getou sputtered and coughed wildly, waving his hand through the air to dismiss your stare and the smoke's mockery. 

You frowned. “You don't smoke?” 

Your company wheezed and laughed, leaning back against the wall with a humbled smile. “Just wanted to see what all the fuss was about,” he said. “You and Ieiri—I feel like I never see either of you without a cigarette.”

“Life’s stressful, I guess.” You looked at the half-spent smoke in your hand, exhaling smoke through your nose as you thought.

You saw Getou lean in out of the corner of your eye. His dark hair brushed against your shoulder, though it could have just been the wind, too. “It doesn't affect you?” 

“Shoko reverses the negatives,” you grumbled. You stuck the cigarette into the corner of your mouth again before pocketing your hands. “Lung cancer would be an easier out than getting ripped to shreds by a curse, besides.” 

“Ho? You think so?” Getou teased. “You don't think you'd go mad? Laying in bed, suffocating in your own body, just waiting to die?” 

You shrugged. “It's a human way to go, at least. Random. Maybe self-imposed, sometimes. But…normal.” 

Time slowed for a second as Getou stared at you. You hazarded a look for once in your life, and caught the enigmatic thing's warm, obsidian eyes. They gave you pause, made you wonder, sent your mind reeling as you caught glints of jagged edges disrupting smooth, volcanic glass. 

“Are you alright?” You asked without thinking. 

Getou blinked, then smiled. “I just think you're interesting, senpai.” He glanced down at the smoldering stick caught between his fingers. “It's a surprise, to be honest. I think Satoru'll be in good hands with you.” 

You stared down at the puddle pooling around your boots. Another self stared back, his image ruined and distorted by raindrops crashing into him, yet he was still clearer than the version trapped in your skull. Maybe the mirrored image was your real self, and you were just the distortion. “I don't have much of a choice, I guess. But I’ll try my best.”

“That’s all we can really hope for with partners, right?” 

“Right.” A moment passed. “You’re oddly okay with this.” 

“I’m not taking it personally,” Getou said. “How can I? Neither of you want to do this, anyway—you hardly even tolerate each other in the first place, and now Satoru’s gone extra crazy about it.” 

The ground felt a little more solid under your feet, and you were a little more real, after those words were spoken. Even the reflection in the puddle grew clearer, revealing fresh colours once concealed by grey thoughts. Something would drain the world of its saturation again, but that moment would stay with you until that day came. 

“Thanks,” you said with some difficulty. “The thought’s appreciated.” 

“It’s the least I can do.” His hand clasped your shoulder and squeezed gently. You forced yourself not to shrink away from it like a slug trying to flee a grain of salt. “Thanks for putting up with him, senpai. Most people aren’t so charitable. Besides,” he said, leaning in close enough for his breath to brush against your ear, “I get whatever Satoru gets, and you get whatever he has, no? What’s yours is mine, what’s mine is yours, and all that?”

Heat scattered across your face and prickled the length of your spine. You were foolish to forget that Getou was a menace, just like Gojo, yet somehow more lethal. 

“Sure.” You didn’t look at him. You couldn’t look at him. It’d be a death sentence. “You’ll get as much as he gets, I guess.”

Getou chuckled and backed off. “We’ll see.”

–

Gojo threw open the door to your room and zoomed inside, socked feet sliding against smooth hardwood. “It’s me!” 

He slipped and fell as soon as you turned to look at him. “It’s you.” You snatched your walkman out of the air as it tipped off your desk following the sorcerer's tumble. “Why is it you?”

“Rude!” Gojo spat out in-between his pained whining. “I'm your fiancé! I'm allowed to be here!”

“That's not really how that works.” You watched Gojo melt into a starfish, stomach down, cheek smooshed against the floorboards. 

And you turned away, back to your work of flipping through astronomical charts and comparing the dates and info with the briefs sent to you, the one third year who bothered to stay. The admins relied on you too much, yet thankfully left the role of guidance counselor and teacher to someone older and more tolerant like Yaga. Still, the sparks of hope that were Utahime and Shoko promised some future relief for—

“Mou, why aren't you more concerned for your fiancé’s well-being?” Gojo whined. 

“I'm more concerned about your sudden desire for me to be concerned,” you offered. 

Gojo gasped and sat up in a whirlwind. “I never said I desired your concern! That's so salacious.” 

“Is this because Getou spoke with me?” You asked, leaning back into your chair with a sigh. 

“No!” He rebuked. “Maybe,” he said. “You better not be trying to win him over ‘cause you’re jealous.” 

“I’m not interested in him,” you snapped. “I’m not interested in you.”

“Hmmm, sounds fake. Everyone loves me.”

“Right.”

“You think there’s any chance they’ll call off the engagement?” 

“No.” 

“Can’t you, like, look into the future and figure it out?” 

You frowned and sent him a look. “What?”

Gojo swayed side to side, hands tucked in the middle of his criss-crossed legs like a kindergartener. “Isn’t that your thing?” He huffed. “Doing pre-op stuff, predicting future events, never really going out on missions ‘cause you’re low-key kinda weak in the field?” A ghoulish snicker left him. “I mean, you’re waaay weaker than me, so—”

“I don’t divine for myself,” you said, voice sharp and jagged. “I help avoid disasters. I help foresee assignment outcomes and the best way to move towards or away from them. I don’t—” You swallowed and caught your breath. “I don’t divine the fates of people.” 

“Well, maybe you should,” Gojo said, sobering slightly. “I don’t wanna do this, you don’t wanna do this, why don’t you just check and see how we can avoid it, huh? This is kind of a natural disaster in its own way.” 

“It’s just an arrangement,” you rasped. “You’ll get over it.”

“I shouldn’t have to.” Gojo frowned in return. “I’m gonna be the strongest sorcerer in the world. I don’t have to settle for an arranged marriage.” 

Your heart thudded dully in the back of your skull, its rising pace shaking the cage keeping it safe. Your throat tightened, too, while your thoughts warped and rippled into one another like your reflection, unable to stay whole under the devastation of falling rain, until you heard everything but nothing at once.

Your face must have done something strange for Gojo to look at you like you were a kicked puppy. You hated it, the way his expression flickered and the way his posture lost its self-righteous poise despite his childish way of sitting. He looked less-than. You didn’t mean to make him look that way. 

“I—” He tried, but you raised a hand. He fell silent. 

“I’ll look into it,” you said. “You’ll know if I find anything.”

If Gojo said anything more, you didn't hear it. You shut the rest of the world out and lost yourself in the positions of planets and the elements of each sorcerer available for future missions, comparing and contrasting the direction of energies to decide who would be best suited for which job. Losing your mind in the charts and data calmed your mind and spirit, easing you back down to an equilibrium until the sun rose again and you’d forgotten the turmoil of the hours before. 

Morning already. You squinted looking out your window and closed the blinds with a quick snap. Right after the blinds settled, you heard a snore. 

Gojo Satoru was asleep in your bed. His gangly arms hugged a pillow to his chest as he laid on his side, facing your way. The odd sight of peace on the younger sorcerer's face drew you in, bringing you close enough to get a good look at the snowy lashes resting against porcelain skin. He always looked odd to you, as though he were some kind of inhuman human, like an alien trying to put on the guise of your fellow terrans. But he was very much human; the glimpses caught of him during a distantly shared childhood proved as much. 

I don’t wanna do this, you don’t wanna do this, why don’t you just check and see how we can avoid it, huh? 

You'd never tell him you already tried to divine that. You could never relay properly how your mind burned with ways to discount your work and force self-doubt into what you knew to be true time after time after time; you were going to marry him. There was no way out. 

But there were still some things you could judge.

You sat down at your desk and skimmed through files until you happened upon Getou Suguru. Your heart hit your ribs a little faster, a little harder, as you found his birthdate and recognized his element as metal. It suited him. Gojo, on the other hand, held earth energy. That coupled with the more Western-normalized fire sign Sagittarius, explained him in a way that could be regarded as violating by those who didn't understand. 

You rubbed your brows and squeezed your eyes closed until sparking colours and inky black splotches danced against your eyelids. Charting the stars, understanding people, contrasting energies and suggesting changes to ensure favourable outcomes—all were the culmination of onmyoudou, the ancient art that carved the path and existence for jujutsu, but people feared an onymoji’s ability to read people more than the destruction caused by sorcerers. Onmyoji helped empires move, assisted in bringing them good fortune and positive outcomes; they could foretell what a person should and shouldn’t do. Clairvoyance born from calculations, and the wielding of shikigami by those clairvoyants, reeked of power and the abuse of it. 

Curiosity wrenched your eyes back open. You blinked away the stars and darkness until your vision and mind cleared enough to let you draw up a timeline of events and planets you’d already looked over a thousand times. 

You frowned and double checked, triple checked, quadruple checked the facts after a first look. You glanced at birthdates again and again. You looked for anomalies in the calendar and cross-referenced your sources. All stayed the same, all were as they’d been five and sixty minutes ago—you were too good at your job to be wrong, yet you still always held out hope for errors and your own incompetency. 

You leaned back in your chair and picked at a hangnail. You can always redirect energy for the sake of a client, you recalled; your mother had taught you as much. It might not be perfect, but we can try. You pulled at the sliver of skin until you gouged it out of your finger, leaving a bloody wound and a shred of relief in its wake.

You jumped as your door slid open to reveal Yaga. His train of thought stopped dead in its tracks as he spied the bratty Gojo curled up in your bed, snoozing without a care.

“What the hell is he doin’ here?” Your teacher groused. 

“He came in to harass me, I guess,” you said. “Then apparently fell asleep when I started ignoring him.” 

“Hah. Yeah, that kid can't function unless someone's giving him attention.” Your superior sighed and crossed his arms. “Anyway, you have those predictions?” 

“Yeah, I—yeah, just one second.” You rubbed your eyes and begged the rest of your lifeforce to lock it in as you saved documents and compiled them in an email for all the higher-ups to view. Something about the process made your spine rattle; it must have been the fear of not CC-ing someone by accident. “Sent.”

Yaga checked his phone as it dinged. He took a moment to skim through the forecast and nodded, letting you stand impatiently before him. 

“Looks like you touched on everything,” he said as he tucked his phone away. “Good job. Now get some rest, you look like shit.” 

Yaga took his leave, and you stared at the oversized baby hogging your bed. 

Rest. You nudged and pushed Gojo into the wall before collapsing beside him. Right.

[andiv3r-doctor-who]

And don't even get me STARTED on the Master slash whatever the fuck she had going on when she was Missy. She was silly and confident. Also probably even more insane than usual but she was happy. Ive almost never seen the Master happy or content at any other point. He's always plotting and has a general agitated vibe about him, but Missy is. Calm. Out of her damn mind, sure, but like. Am I reading into things or does everything about her seem more alive. She's less I Want To Kill Everyone, more Let's Cause Some Mischief. Also she refers to her regeneration into a woman as an upgrade but I can't really get into that because the 13th Doctor does too (even though inside I am convinced he only says this because Missy said it). Anyway all I have to say is. Sad fucked up man becomes joyous fucked up woman, aka the story of just about every transfem ever, I rest my case.

The more I watch this show, the more my internal hc that the Doctor is transmasc and the Master is transfem gets supplied with Evidence. Like wdym the Doctor was a girl when they were found and then after a couple regenerations became a guy and just never changed back (except that one time *cough*.. Jodie Whittaker ...*cough*) that is the most transmasc thing I've ever read, if I didn't know any better i would think i was hearing this about someone's OC who was intentionally written to be transmasc. A lot of my intentionally-written-to-be-transmasc OCs aren't even That Fucking Transmasc.

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

⋆˚࿔ 𝐃𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

synopsis: how genshin men would degrade you <3

tags: degrading (obviously) facesitting, mentions of gagging, oral, penetration, explicit

wrd cnt: 800+

a/n: cooking up an hsr version soon

Ayato is always complete and proper in his semantics, he's fair and he loves to praise you.

But tonight...you stretched his patience too thin and his only choice was to stretch your little cunt til you couldn't talk back anymore. "Fuck, you're tight, honey.. this is what you want, isn't it?"

This day was big for Ayato, but you just had to keep pestering him with question after question. Usually, he'd entertain your playfulness but tonight was stressful. So he took it out on you instead. Call it karma?

"Clenching from my vulgarity..what a whore you are." He whispered into your ear, bending you across his desk, while all the guests sat outside having tea while you got fucked hard from behind by Ayato, who put a hand over your mouth, warning you greatly to stay quiet and stop those slutty moans of yours.

"Am I wrong or, did you not hear me? Ayato said lowly, slowly growing more and more annoyed and irritated at your misbehavior.

"Do you need me to gag that mouth of yours, y/n?” Sounding more like a promised threat than a question.

The only way you can get yourself out of this is giving Mr. Kamisato all he asks for and more, and be an obedient girl.

Nothing could really piss off Alhaitham as much as you, but not in the way that's most obvious.

He hated how much you doubted yourself, looked down on yourself, and harbored deep annoyance of the fact you didn't love the things about you he can't get enough of.

Sure, he could give you a little cute pep-talk but, fucking it into you is the approach that'll really make it stick. Some reverse psychology maybe?

After hearing you badmouth yourself for what felt like hours, he's stripping you of all your clothes and sitting you onto the couch armrest, forcing you to look him in the eyes; daring you to say those things again.

"Fucking pathetic is what you are. You're lucky I'm not fucking that stupid shit out of your mouth". He said, grabbing your hips as he sat down, positioning your cunt over him.

Not sure if you should just hover, his large hand lands on your ass, surely leaving a handprint.

"Sit down y/n." Alhaitham groaned, pulling your hips down onto his face and swallowing your clit with his tongue; his eyes never leaving you and your perfect tits.

Wriothesley loved showering you with compliments and nothing but the sweetest of words, but sometimes he just can't hold back all the filthy things he knows you want from him.

Oftentimes he's just worried you're gonna start crying, but fuck is it hot when you do.

"Fuck, I'm gonna ruin your pretty little mouth." He breathes out, watching you kiss up his cock. On your knees and eyes up is his favorite way to gaze at you, and it's just so easy for him to fuck your face.

"Wrio...you said-"

"Sluts don't get to talk." He cuts you off, his brows raised in amusement as he lights up a cigarette and throws the lighter somewhere, taking his cock in one hand to push past your lips as the other keeps the cig inbetween his fingers.

"Open that dirty fucking mouth of yours... can't take it all of a sudden?" He says, shoving it deep into your throat while his hand grips the back of your head, letting you take it at your own pace before he throws his head back and thrusts his hips up as he hears all the sloppy noises, waiting for your glossy eyes to make an appearance.

Now, Childe really tries to be sweet and praiseful, but he loves how disgusting and filthy you can be, and it's even better when he gets to tells you how much he loves it.

Wearing a new outfit wasn't something you expected to lead to something like this.

Definitely not being put in a tight mating press by your lover, pressed into the couch cushions while he left marks all over your neck and collar, biting and sucking places anyone could see to leave no guessing who's you belong to.

"Look at your thighs...they're just spilling out. You look like a filthy slut, do you want me to fuck you like one? Is that it?" He asked, pulling and smacking the material of your stocking that you didn't think too much of, but the minute he saw you walk out in them his cock wanted to spring out and get in between your thighs. But your pussy was an even better spot.

Deep and deeper be thrusted, the springs in the furniture squeaking while your voice almost did the same, cursing and moaning his name while he kept you close. Small protests for him to be quick fell from your lips, urging him so the two of you could get to where you were headed prior to this..."short" break.

"Are you gonna be a good girl or a fucking headache?" He asked, only fucking your harder and slower, a hand finding to squeeze the sides of your neck.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[ofstoriesandstardust]

can't take the home out of oklahoma - i. (k.c.)

a/n: eeee! a fever dream later, i've finally cobbled together the first part of my top gun: maverick and twisters crossover fic! it's going to be lengthy so we are in for quite the ride! it's way heavier on twisters, so any non-top gun fans should have no problem reading this. future parts will deal with darker content that's only referenced right now, so that'll all be tagged and marked accordingly. for now, it's just my standard cup of angst. reblog and comments are always appreciated!!

summary: After a twisted stroke of luck, you leave behind your whole life in San Diego, California and find yourself in Oklahoma with Tyler Owens and his Tornado Wranglers.

warnings: swearing, weather inaccuracies, flashbacks, reference to past trauma, alcohol

word count: 5.7k

Your finger rubs gently over the crinkled piece of paper Jake had torn off for you, the phone number and the name Tyler Owens written in the neat penmanship the blonde prided himself on. 

If you ever find yourself down South and need something, Jake had said, a bit out of breath as he’d run out of the house after you. If you need anything, call that number. They’ll help you. 

The cursor blinks back up at you on the call pad, your cracked screen making a mockery of you. The chaos of the San Diego airport whirls around you, pressing in on you the longer you sit here. 

You take a deep breath and press call. 

-

His phone starts vibrating on the table and he frowns, eyebrows furrowing as the team, crowded around the table in the RV, goes quiet. 

He answers, despite it being an unknown number. “Tyler Owens.”

“Hi. Uh,” A shaky breath comes from the other end of the receiver before introducing themselves to him. “Uh, Jake Seresin gave me your number. Told me to call if I needed anything.” 

His gut drops at the name, a clench in his heart. “What can I do for ya?” 

“Look, I’ve- I’ve had a rough week and I’m, I’m sort of finding my life upside down. And uh, I guess I’m just grasping at straws here. Jake said, he said you could help me.”

“That so? Well, I’m afraid you’re gonna have to be more specific. How can I help you? What can I do for you?”

“A- a purpose, maybe? I need a purpose, something to do. Um, I’m in San Diego right now but I need to get out of here.”

Tyler frowns, eyes flicking around at his team. They’re all curious as to what’s unfolding, and he scrubs at his forehead, knowing they’ll be upset with him for pulling the trigger on this without talking it through with them first.

But damn it, this girl sounded scared and Jake had sent her to him. Had told her he’d help her, and he would see to it that he did. 

He wasn’t going to leave her behind. 

“Tell you what, get yourself on a plane to Oklahoma. I’ll come get you. You can come work with me and my team.”

“You- your team?” Though she sounds hesitant, she almost sounds relieved at having some sort of direction now. 

“Storm chasers. Ish. We’re doing some field research out here in Tornado Alley, but I’ve got a team, the Tornado Wranglers. And honestly, we need another set of hands out of here managing the backend of things.”

The word managing was the wrong choice as it immediately sends his team into protest. Boone stands up abruptly, Javi and Kate whispering protests to him, as Lilly starts making a face. He waves a hand, wanting them to be quiet. 

The last thing he needed was for this girl to hear, to hang up, to not follow through. 

“Okay.” You say, and he thinks he hears you stand up. “Okay, I’ll find the soonest flight out. Um, what kind of things do you need help with? My background- it’s not in science.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m sure we could find something around here you can help with. Research grant editing or something.”

“I’ve actually got experience with that.” You say with a choked laugh, and Tyler can feel the relief bleed through the phone. He smiles a bit, pressure easing as he does. 

“Then we’ll make sure we put you to work.” There’s a beat as he hears the intercom in the airport go off in the background. “Listen, text me when your flights supposed to land. I’ll make sure I’m there to get you. We’re out in the field right now, so it may be a bit of trek out here, but I’ll make sure you get here.” 

You confirm and he hangs up and his team starts yelling before the phone is even back on the table. 

“We don’t need another team member man-“

“A manager? What kind of business do you take this for?” 

“Are you serious? Kate and I, we’ve got the grant stuff covered-“ 

“This really tells us how you feel about us, Owens.” 

He glances at Kate, who’s looking at him with a guarded expression he hasn’t seen since he first met her. She doesn’t excuse herself, simply pushing her way out, climbing around the back of Javi and Boone. 

-

It would be hard to miss Tyler, the way he’s signing an autograph, cowboy hat atop his head as he leans against the truck branded with the Tornado Wranglers logo.

You stop dead, a cold feeling washing over you at the eerie reminder of the person you’d just left behind. 

This Tyler Owens might be Jake Seresin’s doppelgänger, and based on what you’d seen during the flight you were beginning to suspect the only difference between them is the way they chased the adrenaline high. 

During the flight, you’d bought in-flight WiFi for the first time in your life, just to learn who these people were, who you’d be spending time with. Trying to understand what you’d gotten yourself into. 

Tyler perks up at the sight of you, a smile growing on his face. He holds out his hand and you take it, noting the genuine smile. You shake his hand, swallowing around the burning desire to ask the question. 

“Welcome to good ol’ Oklahoma.” He welcomes. “You ready to hit the road? The team is a bit of a ways out.” 

You nod as Tyler grabs your small duffel bag, throwing it in the back of the truck before you can even ask. 

You climb in the front, taking note of all the gadgets the truck is equipped with. “What’s all this?” You ask, as he turns the key, pulling away from the curb. “Storm chasing stuff?”

“You could say that. The trucks decked out with all kinds of stuff.”

The radio is soft in the background as Tyler talks to you about the team, about what you’ll be doing. 

As Tyler talks, as you talk, as you both think of things for you to do, you begin to lose interest in the conversation as the Oklahoma skyline begins to paint itself into a deep orange. 

“Can we stop?” You ask, voice full of wonder as you peer out windshield, watching the sky transform itself. 

You feel Tyler look over at you, before turning on his blinker despite the lack of cars around. The truck rolls to a stop as you dig around, pulling the disposable camera you’d bought from the bottom of your backpack. Tyler hasn’t even parked before you’re slipping out of the truck, walking around the front to take a picture of the sunset. 

“I haven’t seen a sunset like this since I was a kid.” You breathe, the camera clicking as you do. 

“I hear California has pretty good sunsets.” Tyler says, sticking his hands in his pockets as he stands next to you. 

You shrug.  “They do, but if you’re in the inner city, a lot of times the good ones are hard to catch. They’re easier to see at the beach but the marine layer blocks a lot of the good ones.” You say, turning to Tyler. “At least in my opinion. We can get back on the road now.” 

He nods, eyes steadily watching you as you turn on your heel, climbing back in the truck. Tyler’s a few beats behind you, still standing in the same spot as you buckle your seatbelt. 

The rest of the drive is quiet, the flow of quiet country music coming through the radio as the Oklahoma skies turns from dusk to night. 

By the time you roll up to camp, it’s clear that Tyler’s team has gone to bed, save for one. 

An older man perks up at the sight of you, climbing to his feet from his chair. “Ah, Tyler. Was just about to call and see where you were. This our new teammate?” 

Tyler nods, introducing you to this man. You step forward taking his outstretched hand. 

“Dexter.” He says, a smile on his face. “You must’ve had a long day. We’ve got some leftovers, can I get you anything? We’ve also got our extra tent set up, it’s where you’ll be sleeping.”

You glance at Tyler, although you’re not sure for what. Reassurance maybe. “I’d love some food. And a water maybe? I don’t have a water bottle with me anymore.”

It’s almost a natural instinct to wince at the thought of the loss of your emotional support water bottle that was probably laying in some crevice in the wreckage in Texas. 

Dexter sets to work as Tyler settles himself in front of the fire, a beer in hand. “We’re meant to head to town tomorrow anyways. We’ll stop, get you stuff to help out with the team. Maybe some new camping gear and whatever.” He takes a sip of his beer, cringing as he does. “Just realizing you’ll probably have to sleep on the dirt; I don’t think we’ve got any extra protectors after we visited the last wreckage. We should probably get more stuff tomorrow anyway.” 

“It’s no worries.” You say with a wave of your hand. “I was a Girl Scout for like, eight years, so it’s not a big deal. Won’t phase me.”

A head pops out from a tent nearby. Tyler perks up at the sight of him, as the man sticks his hands in the pockets of the zip-up he’s wearing. “You want a jacket?”

You glance down, realizing you’re shivering. “Uh, yeah, that’d be nice.” 

He gives you a cautious smile before looking to Tyler. “Hey Ty, man, I’ve got an extra pullover in the back of the van, can you grab it?” 

Tyler nods as the man reaches a hand out. “I’m Javi.” 

You shake it, introducing yourself.

“You from around here? You don’t sound it.” 

You shake your head. “San Diego, actually.”

Tyler comes back the same time Dexter comes back with your food and Dexter waits patiently as you scramble, pulling the soft material over your head. 

It smells strongly of rain in a way you can’t explain. In a way, the smell brings you a sliver of comfort. 

You take the food from Dexter as you do, thanking him. 

“Dexter, this is incredible.” You say around the bite. 

“It’s an old family recipe from down in the bayou. I’ve tweaked it so we can make it out here on the road, but it’s a crowd pleaser when I do.”

“You from New Orleans?” You ask and he nods. “My boyf- my ex boyfriend now I guess-“ You say, taking another bite in hopes to hide the awkward way you swallow around those words. “He’s from out there too.” 

Dexter sighs. “I miss that place, I do. But it wasn’t easy to stay after Katrina. I lost my whole family.” 

Your heart pangs, at his words, and it aches, at the thought of the person you’d left behind. 

“I’m very sorry to hear that.” You say softly. 

Javi clears his throat. “You need anything else?” You shake your head and he stands up again. “I really oughta get to sleep, but we’ll chat more tomorrow, yeah?” 

You nod and Javi gives you another cautious smile. In your heart, you want to believe there’s maybe a little hope hidden in it too. 

Dexter also bids you and Tyler goodnight, and the two of you sit there, the crackling fire filling the silence as you eat. 

“Thank you Tyler.” You say softly, staring at the burning embers after you’ve finished eating. 

You know you should explain to him how it all happened, how you got here, but Tyler doesn’t ask and you can’t forget the vision in your head of Steven’s cold eyes, unseeing. 

“You’re giving me a second chance here, and I really do appreciate it.” You settle on instead. 

He nods. “Whatever I can do to help.” 

You excuse yourself, bidding the man goodnight, only to find yourself tossing and turning on the hard ground. 

You thought sleep would come to you easier, with how emotional the last week has been, but everytime you close your eyes and a breeze rolls through, it all comes flooding back, the haze of freezing rain, of a rusty storm grate, a heavy body, and so much blood-

The sound of a door shutting (from the RV if you had to guess,) causes you to open your eyes, sitting up on the makeshift bed. 

“I don’t want her here Tyler.” A female voice says, and you frown. 

There’s a beat. 

“Too bad Sapulpa, she’s staying.” Tyler responds. 

“Stay here and do what?” The girl asks incredulously. “We don’t need her help. And I didn’t know you’re suddenly in the business of helping out random strangers who call you in the middle of the day-“

“This is our whole business, Kate.” He says firmly. “We help people. Strangers. That’s what we’re here to do, remember?”

“And how are you helping her?” 

Tyler’s quiet for a minute again. “We’re giving her a second chance.”

“A second chance? Are you serious?” The girl, Kate, huffs. 

“It wasn’t that long ago it was you who needed a second chance. We gave that to you, remember?”

Another zipper being yanked cuts off Kate’s response. 

“Yo!” It’s Javi. “Can y’all argue about this tomorrow?” 

You don’t hear the sound of Kate’s footsteps but you hear the slam of the RV door loud and clear. 

Tyler goes through the motions, getting the camp cleaned up, before putting the fire out. And then you hear him slip into the RV and for the first time in days, in the quiet of the Oklahoma night, it feels like you can breathe. 

-

You awake with a gasp, clawing at the blankets as if it was Jake’s flannel, holding on for dear life through the storm. 

You swallow back the bile threatening to spill over and blindly climb from the nest of blankets, pulling the zipper down, and stumbling into the sun. 

You swallow as someone’s head turns. It’s a girl, sat at the table the crew has set up outside. You pull yourself from the tent, unable to shake your nerves as you take in the soft baby pink hues above her in the sky. 

You introduce yourself softly and she gives you a tight smile in between bites of yogurt. “Kate.”

Your heart clenches, realizing this must be the girl you’d heard last night. 

It’s an awkward silence the two of you sit in, the baby pink fading from the sky as Tyler pulls himself from the RV. When she sees Tyler, she quietly excuses herself and brushes past him, floating back into the RV.

“You oughta get that screen fixed.” Tyler comments, sitting down next to you. 

“Haven’t had time.” You say with a shrug as you glance at the screen on your phone. It was more shattered than it was cracked, a hazard really, but what could you do? 

“I’ll take you to a place in town today that’ll replace it for cheap.” Tyler says around a bite. “Can I get you anything to eat?” 

Tyler’s team appears over the next hour, and he introduces them as they do. Dexter appears from the RV first and then Dani and Lilly from the back of the van. Boone gets dragged out from the van by Lilly twenty minutes later, and Boone pulls Javi from his tent because “if I have to be awake so do you Miami.” 

Kate doesn’t leave the RV for the rest of the morning. 

-

“They don’t like me.” You say quietly, drumming your fingers on the car door as Tyler drives to the motel that evening. 

“They barely know you-“

“Cut the shit Tyler, I heard Kate last night.” You say sharply, sending him a cold glare. “They don’t want me here.” You roll out your shoulders, looking back out the window. “If you want me to go back, it’s okay.” 

“And send you back to god knows what?” 

“I’d be fine.”

“Kid, you sounded so damn terrified on that phone — I’m not inclined to turn around and give you back to that fear.”

You swallow around a sigh, feeling Tyler watch you as he drives. 

“Give me a week. Give me a week to make it work. And if you still feel like you need to go back, hell, I’ll pay for your flight.” 

You look at Tyler, noting the serious look in his eyes. 

“Okay. One week.”

-

The next week feels simultaneously long and short in the worst ways. 

Short, in that it feels like your time is running out. 

Long, in that there are no storms to chase, dissipating before the team ever has a chance. 

Long, in that you sit around most days, doing your own research on grants and sponsors and the backgrounds of potential investors and articles on social media growth. 

Long, in that you don’t really talk to any of them, except for the one time you look over at Javi’s computer, just to tell him that his sentence didn’t make any sense. 

Long in that, Kate refuses to be anywhere near you and Boone ignores you and Lilly shuts you out of conversation and Javi sort of looks at you like you’re some sort of alien placed down next to them. 

It’s only on the sixth day, when you’re collecting everything you’ve worked on all week to give to Tyler in the morning before he takes you back, that something happens. 

The storm is too far away for them to chase it, to get any research done, but Tyler and Lilly agree that the team should head in, to be there to help out and hand out food in the aftermath. 

Because, apparently, that’s what this team is known for. 

You feel awkward here, watching the team spring into action. You feel out of place, not knowing what you were supposed to say or do as these people dug through the rubble of their lives. 

You were supposed to help people. Tyler had said you could help people here. 

The team is distracted just enough, that it’s you who catches it, not them. 

The sounds of a cry, somebody softly shushing them. You round a corner, heart breaking at the sight. 

There, a small little boy, maybe around the age of 8, is holding who seems to be his little sister as she cries. 

The poor girl can’t be any older than 3 or 4.

“I want Mom.” She blubbers out and the boy shushes her. 

“I know, sissy, we just gotta-“ The boy looks around helplessly. 

“Hey.” You call out, stepping around the rubble. “Hey, do you need help?” 

The boy nods. “Mom said not to move but-“

You hold your hands out. “Stay where you are, okay? I’ll come get you and your sister alright?” 

The boy nods, clinging to his sister’s hand.  You make your way through the rubble, kicking things out of the way to make a path back before finally reaching the two kids. You kneel down best as you can, leveling yourself to them as you introduce yourself. 

“I’m here to help. Can you tell me your name?” 

“I’m Jack.” The boy says. “This is Bella. She’s bleeding and I can’t find my Mom-“

“Hey, hey.” You soothe. “We’ll get you guys some help and get you out of here, okay? We’ll find your Mom.” You look at Bella. “Bella? Are you okay if I carry you? I’m going to help you find someone to patch that cut up, okay?” Bella nods and Jack lets her go as you scoop her up. You hold out your hand for Jack as the two of you navigate your way out.

As you weave your way through people, you ask Jack soft questions about himself, where he goes to school, if he likes dinosaurs or trucks, distracting him as he talks to you. Once you get the two kids to the EMTs, you duck around the side, in search of someone from your team. 

“Kate.” You call, as she’s sifting through rubble, calling for a dog. She glances over at you. “Hey, I’ve got two little kids here who can’t find their Mom. I’m gonna stay with them but can you let the team know? Just in case anyone sees her.” 

The face Kate makes is difficult to read as she nods. You sigh, making your way back around the truck. 

Bella’s all patched up and Jack is studying the logo on your shirt, lighting up when he recognizes it. 

“Mom lets me watch their YouTube channel sometimes!” 

You scoop Bella back up in your arms, holding a hand out for Jack to jump down as you do. 

“Oh well then I’m guessing you don’t want to come see the tornado-proof truck?” 

-

It’s late in the day when Bella and Jack’s Mom comes running down the street, hysterical. Tyler and Kate aren’t far behind her. 

Her arm is in a sling and there’s a few bumps and bruises on her, but otherwise she’s fine. Both of the kids light up at the sight of their Mom, and she’s tearful, thanking you over and over for helping them, for watching over her babies.

You wave her off, citing babysitting as just another thing you’re used to, a big family and all that. 

It’s as they’re walking away, Dexter asking if you want any food, Jack shouts out. 

They turn back, Bella running back to you with the stuffed animal she’d been holding in hand. You kneel down as she holds it out for you to take, heart aching as you look at the stuffed pig. 

Bella had seen it atop your stuff when you’d taken them in the RV and had been holding it ever since. 

It was one of the few things you had of your life left behind but you know when it’s time to let something go. 

“You keep it okay?” You say softly. “You take care of yourself little Bella?” She wraps her arms around your neck, the stuffie clutched between her little fingers. You return the hug, exhaling as you do. Bella lets you go, returning to her Mom and her brother and you stand back up, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. 

“Do you want some food? You’ve been with those kids all day.” Dani says softly, holding the box. 

“How’d you find Mom?” You ask quietly, crossing your arms. 

Tyler sighs. “Was sitting with her the whole afternoon when Kate came down the street, hearing her talk about her missing kids. Kate connected the dots.”

Your arms wrap around yourself tighter. “Kate, I told you I was with those kids. I told you to tell the team in case anybody found Mom.” 

Kate opens her mouth but no words come out as Lilly’s eyes slide between the two of you. 

“Here.” Lilly says gently as she holds the box out, taking it from Dani. “You should eat. Been a long day.”

“I’m not hungry.” You say. “I’m gonna get in the truck, let me know when we’re leaving.” 

-

You sling your backpack over your shoulder, the truck door shutting behind you as you walk up the motel steps. 

The backpack, downsized from your duffel bag as Tyler had gone through the Oklahoma necessities with you, which was hardly anything you owned, feels heavy as you do. 

“Hey.” Kate’s voice calls out. “That was a really nice thing you did for that little girl.” 

Tears sting at your eyes as you push the key into the lock, pressing against the door with your body weight to get the door to unstick. 

You think Tyler says something as you shut the door but under the hot water of the shower rushing down you, you can’t hear anything else.

-

You clear your throat, announcing your presence as you do. Tyler and Kate pause in their conversation as they look over to you. 

You set the folder down in front of Tyler, Javi’s pullover in front of Kate. 

“Just wanted to give these to you. Tyler, do you want me to just wait in the truck?” 

Tyler peeks at the folder as Kate asks “Wait for what?”

“What is all of this?” Tyler asks, flipping through the pages. 

“Research on potential investors and their backgrounds. Just so you guys don’t get into another StormPar situation. There’s some stuff about grants, donors in there. Other stuff I tracked down about how you could grow your social media, ideas I had. There might be a couple of pages about laws on people donating, not sure. It’s everything I’ve done this week. Y’all don’t have to use it but I just thought it might be helpful as lead points.” 

“This is- this is really great stuff.” Tyler remarks. “It’s gonna be a real loss to not have your brain on our team.” 

“Wait - are you leaving?” Kate asks, eyes flying between you and Tyler. 

“I’ll meet you at the truck.” You say, turning to leave. You think you hear Kate repeat the question to Tyler, but you shut the door to the RV before you can hear their conversation further. Across the parking lot, Javi calls out, but you wave him off as you climb into the passenger seat of Tyler’s truck. 

Your heart feels heavy as you look at your own Javy’s contact. 

It would be so easy to pick up the phone, to tell him you made a mistake, to beg him to let you come home. 

He would too, and he would pick you up from the airport, and he’d wash the Oklahoma from your skin, and he’d hold you through the loss. 

But then you remember Jake’s defeated look as the two of you had assessed the damage, the way he’d asked you to lie. 

You remember the blood-

A startled gasp leaves you as someone knocks on the window. 

It’s Kate. 

You roll down the window.

“You’re leaving?” 

You eye her, unsure why she appears to be almost nervous, fingernails digging into the soft flesh of her arms. 

“Yeah?” 

“Why?” 

You shrug, surveying the team in the parking lot. “It just didn’t work out. I didn’t fit here.” 

“But-“ She worries her bottom lip. “Where will you go?” 

“I’ll figure it out.” You say simply.

You’d have to because you knew the alternative would be devastating to everyone you’d ever known. 

She sighs, eyes flickering to Tyler, who’s moving closer. “Well, we’re headed to my Mom’s tonight. You should stay one more night. You’ve never even had real Oklahoma barbecue.”

A dry laugh escapes you without your permission. “Kate, what are you playing at here?”

She seems shocked, not expecting your question. “What do you mean?” 

You roll your eyes, huffing. “Kate, c’mon, you told Tyler you didn’t want me here.” 

Her face drops as her arms fall by her sides. “You heard that?” She says quietly. 

“Yeah.”

She licks her lips. “Look, I ain’t good with new people. I’m- It’s a me thing.” She looks down, scuffing her boot on the ground. “It’s my problem and I misjudged you. I’m sorry. Give me another night to show you how it could be.” 

“Why the hell would I stay to see how it could be when I know at this moment I’m not wanted here?” 

“I do.” She says softly. “Want you here. I was wrong and I’m sorry.” 

You let out breath through your nose, meeting Tyler’s eyes through the windshield. 

You think of Dexter’s food, Javi’s pullover, Dani and Lilly’s gentle insistence you feed yourself last night. 

You think of the Louisiana area code sitting open on your phone right now. 

“One night, Kate.”

-

“I sure am sorry you’ll have to sleep on the floor. I just wasn’t expecting an extra person from the crew but we can make sure you have somewhere to sleep tomorrow night-“ 

You cut her off, holding your hands out for the dishes from dinner. “That’s very kind of you Ms. Cooper, but I’m just fine sleeping on the floor.” 

“Please, I keep telling you to just call me Cathy and, well, you could stay in Kate’s bed?” Cathy offers as you take the plates from her. 

“Think you’d find my throat slit tomorrow.” You mutter and Tyler barks out a laugh. 

“You deserved that one Kate.” 

Cathy turns to her daughter, a look on her face. “What did you do?”

Kate pulls a face, holding her hands out. “What- Nothing, Mom!” 

Cathy hums, eyebrows furrowing but you cut them off. “The floor is just fine, Ms. Cooper. Um, do you mind pointing me in the direction of the bathroom so I could change?”

-

“Do Tyler and Kate have a thing?” You ask, taking a sip of the hot chocolate Lilly had made as Javi chuckles next to you. 

You’re watching the group fight over Uno, you and Javi sat in front of a puzzle. 

“They did at one point. When they first met, but they burned out pretty fast. Figured out they were better off as friends.” You hum and Javi’s grin grows. “Why, you thinking you want to start something up with Owens?” 

You blanch and shake your head. “No, I think I’ve more than had my fill on macho thrill seekers for this lifetime.”

Javi lets out a laugh, a real one, for the first time all week. You smile, thinking of how Tyler would fit in with those pilots like he’d always belonged there. 

You were all set on those types.

Kate though…

If Kate hadn’t been so cold to you, Kate would’ve been the type of girl you could see yourself falling for. 

Witty, bright, a soft smile always worn on her face. She’s at ease here and it makes your heart hurt to see. You want to someday be as at ease as she looks, wedged in between Boone and Dexter, the brightest smile you’ve seen from her on her face. 

“So how the hell does a city girl like you find herself in Oklahoma?”

You slide a puzzle piece into place. “I don’t, I don’t really want to talk about it, if that’s okay.” 

Javi sighs, quiet for a minute. “Look, I’m sorry we were so off-putting when you first got here. We’re a tight knit group and we’ve been through a lot together. And-“

“Javi.” You cut him off with a tight smile. “You don’t have to explain. I get it, okay? You guys aren't the first group to not want me around and you won’t be the last, alright?”

He heaves a breath, an unreadable look on his face. “Just- if anyone might understand the things you’re running from, it would be us.”

“Who says I’m running?”

Javi raises an eyebrow and you sigh, setting the pieces you’re sorting through down. 

“Look, I’m not running. I’m just- I’m just trying to leave something behind.” 

Javi studies you for a few minutes as you set back to work on the puzzle. 

“Shame you and Kate can’t get along. You two are more alike than you think.”

-

You awake with a start, fingers clenching in unfamiliar fabric. 

“Are you okay?” Someone asks softly and you blink, Kate coming into focus. 

Right, you had- you had slept next to her last night after she’d worn you down. You couldn’t deny how nice it had sounded to sleep in a real bed. 

“Fine.” You breathe, willing yourself to forget the shouts of a friend left behind.

She frowns as she pulls her pants on. “I’m, uh, sorry for waking you up. Gotta help Mom with the cows.” 

You wave a hand, pulling yourself to sit up in the bed. “Want a hand?” 

“Mom would kill me if I let a guest help. Why don’t you get some more sleep, okay?”

You lay back down as she quietly ducks out of the room, but you know sleep won’t come. 

You’re restless so you pull yourself from the bed, padding down the staircase and sitting in one of the chairs on the porch. Tyler appears a minute later, an extra coffee mug in hand. You take it from him with a quiet thank you before the two of you start to watch Kate. 

“So California, are we gonna talk about it?” Tyler asks. 

You sigh as Tyler kicks his feet out. “Well, you’re gonna ask me questions I don’t want to answer and I’m gonna ask you ones you don’t want to answer, so unless you want to start copping to some things…”

Tyler shakes his head. “Won’t talk about it then, California.”

You eye him. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t call me that. Sort of hard to leave that life behind when you keep calling me that.”

“You gonna stay?” Tyler asks, looking over at you. 

You shrug, finger running over the rim of the mug. “I don’t know that I should.”

“I know it’s been a rough start with them.” Tyler sighs, shoulders hiked up. “But they’re good people.” 

“I don’t doubt that.” 

“You’re good people too.”

“Doesn’t make me a good fit here.”

Tyler sighs. “It’s my fault, I should’ve approached it a different way. But if you leave, we’d really be missing out. You’ve got those fancy degrees and you’re smart and you’re one fucking selfless girl. We could use someone like you around.” 

Kate and her Mom appear, Kate’s bright smile appearing as she pulls herself onto the railing of the porch. 

“You guys hungry? I’m gonna go get started on breakfast.” 

“Starved.”

“Wanna come see the barn?” Kate asks you as her Mom opens the screen door. 

“Now hang on, California ain’t said if she’s staying. No reason to show her the barn if she’s gonna be leaving.” 

You sigh, look down at the mug you can feel going cold. You rub your thumb over the Oklahoma written into the side as you think of Kate’s smile, of Tyler’s kindness, of Dexter’s food, of Javi’s pullover that had somehow ended back up in your bag after giving it back to Tyler and Kate yesterday. 

You blink, looking back up at them. “Okay. Yeah, okay, I’ll stay."

ii.

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

Hi, for the wip ask game, bff Soap Hurt Comfort? :') please and thank you!

for the wip ask game--lighter, sweeter bff!Soap. you're meeting him at the airport. he's coming home after being MIA. scared you to death.

this one is short, so here it is edited + posted in full. for the hurt/comfort girlies :)

600 words / 23

…

“Thought you couldna live without me, eh?”

You tackle Soap in a hug, tactical gear and all. "Shut up. Shut up. God, you're alive."

He laughs and returns the embrace. "Too stubborn to die. I thought I told you not to worry about me."

You grip the straps on the back of his vest and keep your face in his chest to hide the tears threatening to track down your cheeks. "You can't just say that and go MIA. They talked about putting your name on a memorial and everything."

"You know me. Always gotta do things my way."

"Your way is stupid."

He chuckles and rubs your back. "Yeah, I'm stupid. I've missed you, though. I haven't stopped thinkin' bout you."

"Really? Cause I..." The dam breaks. You can't stop the flood of hot, angry tears. "I missed you too." Then you start sobbing. God, it's embarrassing. But you refuse to let go of him.

He strokes your hair. "Hen, don't cry. Please. I'm here and I'm not goin' anywhere. I'm your man, aye?"

You shake your head, stubbornly refusing to move.

He rests his cheek on you. "I don't want you to be sad. I'll make it up to you, I promise. I love you."

Hearing him say that just makes your heart skip before the tears come out faster. You love him, too, more than a friend should. How could anyone not fall in love with him? He's Johnny. It's just that you were always too chickenshit to tell him. You thought you lost your chance.

"Come on, look at me."

"No," you mutter, refusing to unbury your face from his shirt. Scared to, maybe. "I don't want you to make it up to me. I want to stay here."

"That's no problem. We can stay here for however long. I just need to know you're not upset at me. I can't stand seein' you sad. Makes me sad."

You sniff. "You deserve it."

"Aye, I do. But what can I do to cheer you up'?"

"Nothing," you mumble into his chest. "I've been crying for two weeks because of you."

You try to collect yourself anyway, wiping your eyes with your sleeve. His squadmates stand a little ways away from the terminal, looking curious at this scene you're causing. This isn't exactly how you wanted to meet them. You're supposed to be Johnny's cool best friend, not a weepy mess.

Johnny recaptures your attention, wiping away a stray tear track with his thumb. "You've been cryin' about me?"

You shove him, but it's light and there's no anger in it. "Of course I have, asshole, you're my best friend. They said you were MIA. Why wouldn't I cry?"

He grins. "But I'm here now, though. Could use a wee bit of comforting myself. You mind?"

You sniff, nodding as you press your sleeves into your eyes one more time to dry them. He's right. He's the one who's been away from home for a month. Probably endured some draconian shit, missing for two weeks and all. But the way he's looking at you through those blue eyes of his... it's not fair how easy it is to fall under his spell again.

"Yeah. I guess. What do you want? More fawning and crying?"

He laughs softly and pulls you into another tight hug. He presses a kiss to your temple, and you have to act like it doesn't make your heart explode into tiny pieces. He rests his chin on the top of your head, content to keep you here, totally enveloped in his frame. "Mm, that'll do. Just to start."

...

wip ask game / more Soap / masterlist tag

[cjlouwho]

Twelve Christmases

chapter tags: discussions of a burn victim (nothing graphic), discussions of suicide and mental health, very brief mentions of things that happened in past chapters (Tommy's mom, military, red handkerchief, implied noncon), anxiety, depression, background character death, Tommy calls the crisis hotline

read below or on ao3

Day 10: 2022

“I'm calling Roberts in early, you can go home.”

“Captain Marks-”

“No, Kinard! What you did out there was careless. You could've gotten yourself killed.”

“And if I'd done nothing, that man would be dead.”

“He's gonna wish he were dead if he ever wakes up! He's got third degree burns on over seventy percent of his body! I don't mean to be harsh, Tommy, but you risked your life for a dead man walking!”

“So?” 

Marks took a deep breath, sitting back in his chair. “I'm gonna pretend I didn't just hear you say that. I know emotions are high right now, but you know as well as I do I can't have a pilot that isn't concerned about whether they live or die.”

“That's not-”

“Stop talking, Kinard,” Marks warned. “You're on the ground for five shifts, I'll reevaluate things myself after that. If I have any hesitation, for even a moment, about your intentions here, you're getting a psych eval. That'll put you on the ground forever. You understand me?”

Tommy pursed his lips, nodding his head. “I understand.”

“Good. Now, go home, enjoy the rest of your Christmas, come back next shift with a clear head.”

*****

By the time Tommy got home, it was nearing ten o'clock at night. His brain was a jumbled mess. It didn't seem to matter how many times he hit the punching bag in his garage, it was never enough.

After a quick shower, he thought about laying down.

But even the idea of that made him want to crawl out of his skin.

So, he began to pace.

He paced, and paced, and paced, with his hands on his hips. From the living room, to the kitchen, down the hall, and back again.

It all felt like too much. He wasn't just thinking about today. He was thinking about his mom. He was thinking about the military. He was thinking about the red handkerchief. He was thinking about waking up in a stranger's apartment with no clue what happened the night before.

He was thinking, thinking, thinking, pacing, pacing, pacing, and he needed it all to stop.

Just stop!

So he did something he never thought he'd do.

He wasn't even sure what made him do it.

All he remembered was pulling his phone out of his pocket and dialing the number.

988.

“988 crisis lifeline, this is Penny. How can I help you today?”

He froze.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

He swallowed. Closed his eyes.

“I'm here.”

“Oh, good. May I ask who I'm speaking with?”

“Tommy,” no attempt to try for a fake name.

“Hi, Tommy! I'm Penny. I know I said it before, but I like to make sure the people I speak to heard me. Tommy, ca-”

“I'm not... I don't wanna kill myself,” Tommy interrupted, needing to make it clear. “I just needed someone to talk to.”

“Okay.” Her voice was soothing, familiar almost. A voice that Tommy hadn't heard in years. “That's what I'm here for, Tommy. What's on your mind?”

He tried to think of what to say. Tried to figure out the perfect way to start the conversation.

He was usually so put together.

But everything felt off.

“I hate Christmas.”

He wasn't sure why that was the first thing that popped into his brain at this moment, but it was out there now.

“A lot of people have complex feelings about holidays. It can be tough sometimes, no doubt about it.”

The tiny admission seemed to open a floodgate for Tommy. “My mom was thirty-eight when she died, and I'm thirty-eight now,” he explained. He was sure the words coming out of his mouth were just as jumbled as the thoughts in his head. “And she- she didn't die around Christmas. She actually died in June, so I don't know why I keep thinking about her today of all days, but I do. Not just her; I'm thinking about a lot of things. But it all sort of leads back to her at the end, I guess.”

“Was Christmas important to her?” Penny asked.

“She loved it when I was really little. Always liked looking at the lights and taking me to the mall to pick out things I wanted. I think my dad ruined Christmas for her though.”

“He wasn't big on the holiday?”

“He wasn't big on family. Looking back, I can see how being with him changed her. I didn't recognize it back then.”

“You were young. She probably didn't want you to recognize it.”

Tommy sighed, giving himself a moment to gather his thoughts. “She didn't get thirty-nine Christmases, you know? And that doesn't really seem fair. Because I'm here for my thirty-ninth Christmas and I don't even like the damn day. She deserved more. She deserved better.”

“It's never easy to understand why the people we love get taken from us too soon. It can be especially difficult when we lose them as a child.”

Tommy let out a humorless laugh. “She didn't get taken from me,” he bit out, “she left me.”

There was a pause on the line, then, “I'm sorry?”

“Yeah, she uh, she made that choice to leave herself. Stuck me with my dad, who never really gave a crap about me in the first place, and she... she was just gone.”

“I'm sorry about that, Tommy. That's a lot to have to deal with as a kid.”

“I don't ever talk about it, about her. I don't really have anyone to talk about it with. My dad never cared for emotions, so I just plaster a smile on my face and put my shoulders back and keep going.” Tommy shook his head, clearing his throat and wiping away the tears that were pooling in his eyes. “That's not why I called though. Not because of her.”

“Okay,” Penny replied. “Tell me why you called, Tommy.”

Tommy rolled his shoulders, trying to rid himself of some of the tension running through his body. “I did something stupid at work today, and I knew better. I just didn't care.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“I work for the fire department. I'm a firefighter pilot, but today I was on the ground. We were called to a fire at this house- well, more like a mansion- and we thought we had the place cleared. Then the daughter started yelling for her dad. I headed back inside and found him, um,” Tommy paused, taking in a shaky breath.

“It's okay, Tommy. Take your time.”

“He- He was at the source of the fire. A fairly large space heater exploded and the fire had spread quickly. The house was about to collapse, and I was being told to get out, but I stayed. Long story short, I was able to get the man out right before the structure collapsed. He was severely burned though. If he makes it, and it's a big if, he's going to wish he hadn't. My captain won't let me fly for a while now. Sent me home early.” He let out a humorless laugh. “I wasn't even supposed to work today. I took the shift because I hate this damn holiday.”

“You've mentioned that three times now,” Penny noted.

“What?”

“How much you dislike Christmas. Tommy, do you think that maybe the risk you took today had something to do with the fact it's Christmas? Emotions were already high, making you take risks you wouldn't usually take?”

“Hm,” Tommy hummed. “Maybe? I don't really know though, because I feel like I'm ready to take those same risks any day, anytime. I said it before, and I meant it, I'm not trying to die. I just... I don't think I care if I do. It didn't matter to me if I didn't make it out. We're all gonna die someday, you know? That's what I always figure. What's it matter if it's now?”

“I think it would matter to the people who love you. The people who care about you.”

“I don't think I know anyone well enough for them to be affected by my death.”

“Well, it would matter to me,” Penny replied matter-of-factly, and Tommy couldn't help but let out a laugh.

“I dunno, I can be kind of a bitch sometimes.”

“Thank God for that, I'd hate it if you were too perfect.”

“Well, I never said I wasn't perfect. Perfect and bitch can go together, right?”

“I think it's a great pairing.”

A smile lingered on Tommy's face. He couldn't remember the last time he spoke to someone so openly. “Penny?”

“I'm here.”

“Would you stay on the phone with me until Christmas is over?”

“Honey,” she answered, Tommy softening at the name, “I can honestly say there's nowhere else I'd rather be.”

Penny stayed on the phone with him until 12:01. She was willing to stay on the line longer, but by the time Tommy had watched the clock strike midnight, he was ready to go to bed.

He felt better. A little lighter than he had in a while.

He'd been in bed for about fifteen minutes, and was just dozing off when his phone buzzed.

It was Captain Marks.

The man from the house fire died on the operating table.

I know you wanted to save him, Tommy.

Unfortunately we can't save them all.

Tommy stared at the texts for a good ten minutes before switching over to the phone app and dialing 988 again.

[dsireland86]

Hi! Could I request something with Matt? Where the reader and Matt always dance the line between friends and something more and it irritates the others that they keep denying it?

Thanks!

Another Matt One-Shot! Thank you 😊

Denial

Tag list: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @thisbicc @lacy1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12 @sister-sebastian @missduffsblog @bngurngheart  @somebodyllelse @xxkittenkissesxx @dizzylmwahh @Youlookforultraviolet @kenjipepsi1 @blackveilomens @chey-h @disappearintothegrey @jilliemiw86 @pathion @fear-its-beauty @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @an0mallly @flowery-mess 

The box fell over, dumping most of its contents onto the floor. Y/N growled, frustrated with how the day was already going, and it wasn't even noon yet. She was starting to rethink her decision in helping Matt declutter the warehouse, thinking it would have been best if she'd just stayed in bed and shut the world out.

"Hey, let me help," came a soft voice. Matt bent down and helped Y/N toss the cables and extra pieces back into the box. "You alright? You seem a little stressed this morning." "Yeah," Y/N sighed. "Well, no. The water in my apartment building got turned off last night because of a busted pipe, leaving me with no shower, no coffee, and little tolerance." "Shit, I'm sorry! Why didn't you say anything?"

Y/N shrugged. "Didn't want to complain, I guess. There's nothing you can do about it, unless you know how to fix a busted water pipe." Matt grinned, draping an arm over her shoulder. He pulled her close, running his hand up and down the side of her shoulder. The sweet, affectionate gesture made Y/N's body shiver, stirring the pot of swirling emotions for Matt inside her. "No, I can't, but I can offer you a hot shower and a hot cup of coffee over at my place once we're done here, if that'll help."

Y/N blushed, lowering her head to escape embarrassment. "Sorry, was that too much?" "No, no, no, it's fine!" she assured him with a smile. "I really appreciate the offer." Her fingers found Matt's fingers that were around her shoulder, briefly lacing them together. The way her touch made Matt feel was insatiable, causing him to shift from the increased pressure against his shorts. "Yeah?" Matt's stomach flipped inside him, and his heart was pounding. "Yeah," she smiled again.

Y/N picked up the box and carried it over to Matt's work table, sitting it down. She glanced Matt's way once more, grinning like a schoolgirl, before turning and walking away with the brightest smile on her face. "Man, you've got to tell her, Matt. It's obvious she's into you," Noah stated, coming up behind him. He clamped his hand down on Matt's shoulder. "Tell her what?" Noah gawked at Matt. "Really?" Matt shrugged. "You like her. You know you do. She likes you. Why are you both denying it?" "I don't know what you're talking about, Noah. I don't like her like that. Y/N and I are just friends. She's been talking to some other guy anyway, so yeah."

"So," Noah shrugged. "Doesn't mean anything." Matt's face fell. "Whatever. I'm not discussing my personal life with you right now. I've got too much on my mind. "Dude, she likes you. You like her. Just admit it." Matt sighed loudly. "Whatever. Go," shooing Noah away.

Matt did like Y/N, a lot, but he was scared as hell to admit it. She didn't feel the same about him. There was no way. He was her boss and had been for almost a year, never picking up on any of the same vibes that he felt towards her. He was just trying to be nice, regardless of how crazy she made him feel.

Throughout the day, Y/N and Matt continued their weird awkwardness around each other. Whether it was apologizing to the other if they had accidently knocked into each other or hands brushing against hands as they reached for the same thing, Matt and Y/N were fighting the truth like a bull, choosing to stay in complete denial about their feelings for one another

"If they don't kiss or do something, soon, I'm gonna lose it," Jolly commented to Noah and Nick. "Have you seen the two of them today? What hell is up with that?" The three looked over at Matt and Y/N, who were working through a box of computer parts together. Her giggles and his smiles were giving all of them tooth aches. "God. Matt is being ridiculous," Nick chuckled. Noah sighed, plopping down on the couch and stretching his long arms over the back. "Just wait. Something's going to happen. Knowing Matt, he won't be able to handle it much longer." "Why do you say that?" Noah raised an eyebrow, twisting the ring on his right hand. "Matt's an impatient person. When he wants something, he'll just take it."

Jolly hummed. "So, what you're saying is that by tomorrow, Matt and Y/N will have slept together?" Noah grinned, cocking an eyebrow. "No way." Jolly disagreed. "You wanna make a bet?" Jolly narrowed his eyes, staring at Noah. "Fifty dollars says she doesn't." Noah stuck his hand out. "Deal."

"Hey, Y/N, you want this last Celsius in here," Folio asked, buried in the refrigerator. "Mmm, I think that's Matt's. Doesn't he get really mad when people take his drinks, especially if it's the last one?" Folio peered at her from around the side of the fridge. "Well, yeah, but it's you. He won't care." "Who won't care about what?" Matt asked, casually forcing his way into the conversation. "You won't care if Y/N takes your last can of Celsius." "Oh, no, go ahead. Maybe it'll make up for that missing cup of coffee this morning." Matt winked at Y/N, making her smile. "See," Folio noted. Y/N chuckled.

Matt stopped next to her and just stared at her for a moment. "You okay?" she asked, skeptically. He nodded as a small smile spread over his lips. Y/N grinned, looking down again. "God, the two of you are ridiculous," Folio groaned, closing the fridge and handing Y/N the energy drink. "Just fucking sleep together, already and put us all out of misery." "Folio, what the fuck, dude!" "What! It's obvious you two like each other." "Oh, no," Y/N denied, shaking her head. Matt looked at her as if her words stung. "Well," she shrugged nervously, "you're my boss. That's all."

Matt shoved his hands in his pockets, looking away. "See, I'm her boss. Sleeping together would be out of the question," he stated, glancing over at Y/N, who opened the can of Celsius and took a long sip. "These are the last two freaking boxes," Y/N sighed, dropping the ones in her arms with a thud. Matt gave her a stern look, raising an eyebrow. "Hopefully, there's nothing valuable in there." "Really? Matt, we've gone through forty boxes, and not one thing in any of them is valuable." "Well, maybe forty-one and forty-two will be different." "Make that forty-three," Nicholas corrected, dropping one more box on top of the other two. "Ugh," Y/N groaned, scowling at Matt. "I just want to shower." "Alright, look, take my keys," Matt said, pulling them from his pocket. "Take my car, go to your apartment and get whatever you need for your shower, then go to my house and take one. Use all the hot water if you want to, I don't care. I'll get one of the guys to bring me home."

Y/N stared at Matt, her eyes etched with curiosity. "Are you sure? I mean, I don't want to inconvenience you or anything." "You're not. Honest," Matt assured her, with a soft grin. Y/N's lips curled into a sweet smile, graciously accepting the offer. "I won't make a mess. And I won't use all your hot water. You won't even know I was there." Matt nodded, watching as Y/N turned around and walked out of the warehouse, silently hoping she would wreck his entire house.

Matt pulled the spare key out from the small box behind the planter, unlocking the door. His two boys greeted him with wagging tails and hand licks, so excited that dad was home and after plenty of pets, kisses, and outside potty breaks, Matt finally climbed the stairs to check if Y/N was still in the shower. It was quiet, not a trace of running water.

"Y/N?" Matt checked the spare bathroom first, hoping Y/N didn't choose to use it; not when he had the huge walk in one in his bathroom. To his disappointment, she had, which honestly didn't surprise him. "Y/N?" Matt called out again. Her stuff was still in the bathroom, so she had to be here somewhere.

Going back downstairs, Matt checked the kitchen and the living room, stopping immediately when he glanced over the couch. Y/N was curled up under a blanket, fast asleep. She was a beautiful sight to see, so relaxed and at peace, making Matt's heart race.Kneeling down next to her and gently brushing strands of hair away from her face, Matt watched Y/N sleep, focusing on all the pretty little things about her he had never noticed before. After a few minutes, he decided that a bed would better suit Y/N than the couch. Carefully lifting her, he carried her upstairs and laid her down gently in the comfort of his bed.

It was pitch black when Y/N awoke to the sound of silence. Wiping the sleep from her eyes, she looked around, trying to figure out where she was. The touch of a hand on her lower back startled her, but the voice did not. "Hey," came the sleepy voice of Matt as he rolled over on his side. By now the dim light from the hall seeped into the darkness, creating the right amount of light for them to see each other.

"Hey." "You fell asleep on the couch." "Yeah. I'm sorry, Matt. I didn't mean to. I just," "It's fine, Y/N," Matt said, scooting closer to her. "You don't have to apologize." "You sure?" Y/N sounded so uncertain that Matt was being honest and it bothered him. "Yeah, I'm sure. Why do you always question me when I say it's okay?" Matt sat up next to her, their shoulders touching. Her being this close to him was really messing with his head and his heart. "I don't know," Y/N, huffed a laugh looking away. But Matt stopped her. "And why do you always look away from me when I'm trying to be nice to you," laying his hand over her cheek to pull her back so that he could look at her.

Through the soft glow of the moon and the hall lights, Y/N never looked more beautiful to Matt than she did right now, with messy hair and sleepy eyes. He was captivated by her, afraid to look anywhere else but at her. His thumb trailed back and forth over her lips as they continued staring at one another and the utter silence was the perfect setting for the light sound of only their heartbeats.

Matt's eyes darted between Y/N's. "How have I never noticed how beautiful you are?" Y/N shrugged. "I'm pretty average." "Whatever. Don't even pretend you don't know how incredibly sexy and amazing you are." Y/N just stared at Matt. "If you say so." "I do. You're pretty perfect." "Oh god, Matt! I'm a ridiculous mess," Y/N groaned, bringing her hands to her face. "Hey, no you're not. Come here." Matt pulled Y/N towards him, shifting their bodies until she was sitting between his legs, up against his chest. "Good?"  Y/N nodded, leaning all the way back against him. Matt was warm and comfortable, making it even better when his arms came around and wrapped around her.

"Is this okay?..." "Better than okay," she sighed, resting her head against his shoulder. Matt leaned over and placed a soft kiss on the side of her temple. The feeling of his lips on her skin made Y/N shiver. "Goosebumps," Matt whispered against her ear, his hands trailing up and down her arms. "Matt," she whimpered in the dark, her voice trembling. He kissed the side of her face and this time she tilted her head so he could get a better angle. The feeling of Matt's lips gliding along her skin made Y/N clench her thighs together. This was wrong. He was her boss, her friend. But why did it feel so right?

"Matt, what are we?" she softly asked as his hands found hers. "We don't have to be anything. I'm tired of people trying to label us." "You know the others already think we're something, right? "I had a feeling." "Are they right?" "You tell me, Y/N," Matt answered, lacing his fingers through hers. She shifted, turning around and facing him. "I think you know what we are, Matt. I think you just want me to be the first to say it."

Matt clenched his jaw tight, unable to hide the way his body was reacting towards her. He was dying to tell her the truth, yet scared she'd run away. But then she surprised him by wrapping her arms around his neck and throwing her legs on either side of him, pulling herself up into his lap. Y/N gasped lightly the moment she felt his hard length press against her core, causing Matt to grunt. "Then say it, Y/N. Tell me what we are, what you want, and I'll give it to you, whatever it is."

The desperate, yet promising look in Matt's eyes was enough for Y/N. With her arms around his neck, she leaned into him and kissed him, softly at first, hoping this wasn't a mistake. She pulled back, looking at Matt's reaction. His eyes were blown wide with surprise yet with a hungry need for more. "I can't lie anymore, Matt. I want you, and not just as a one night stand." Matt smiled, slipping his hands around her face, pulling her back in for another heated kiss, this time harder. "I'm all yours baby. I'm not going anywhere," he promised, pulling back for a moment to look at her. "And fuck, don't ever stop looking at me like the way you are right now." Y/N giggled, throwing herself back into another kiss with Matt. "Baby, I can't hold back anymore," Matt groaned the second she pressed her core harder against his erection. "I want you, right here, now," he panted between her kisses. "Then take me, Matt. I'm yours."

Matt gazed at her for a moment, hoping that what she was saying was true. "You're serious? No fucking with my head?" Y/N smiled, grabbing the waistband of her shorts and pulling them off her. Because it was dark, Matt couldn't see her, but he didn't have to. Y/N took his hand and placed it directly between her legs, letting him feel how wet she was for him. "I'm yours, Matthew. Only yours."

With neither one of them denying their feelings any longer, her promise was all Matt needed. Slipping two fingers instantly inside her, he claimed Y/N as his by making her cum on just his fingers alone. It was unlike anything Matt had ever felt before. She made him feel powerful, fully in charge and capable of anything. Their love making for the first time changed everything for both of them. There was no fear, no questions, just wanting and love, neither one of them able to get enough of the other. The room was filled with nothing but moonlight and moans, cries of passion and groans of ecstasy mixed with the smell of sweat and sex. It was unlike anything they had ever experienced. It was love; pure, undoubting, unwavering love.

[sstardustt3]

Johnny cade headcannonsss

Authors notes- um so my writers block is gone (yipeee) and I decided that from now on this is just going to be a general writing account instead of something focused exclusively on one fandom (I'm still gonna do creepypasta stuff dw) but I didn't realize how much writing for one singular thing burns the fuck out of you so I'm doing this because it's much more easier and I'm gonna upload more because I'm on summer break. Anyways I'm on an outsiders kick rn so this is the result of it

tags/ warnings- mentions of abuse, johnny being a gossip whore, angst, fluff, johnny thinking negatively about himself, brief mention of romance, someone please give him a hug-

-Johnny is really fucking strong despite looking kinda scrawny but he believes no one when they tell him this (he thinks they're just trying to make him more confidant)

-If he did have a s/o then nine times out of then they've asked him to carry them everywhere

-he hates physical contact he can't stand it especially if he's not ready for it like if you hug him from behind. mostly because everytime someone touches him it's to hurt him but also another is because he just hates being surprised

-his body is so unbelievably cold all the time that even if there was a heat wave in the area at like 120*f he would still feel like he's on the brink of dying from hypothermia

-something he picked up from Dally is being rude to people for like no reason he doesn't even do it intentionally he just kinda says the most outlandish rude shit about people and does not even realize it

-adding onto things he's picked up from hanging with dally is how to talk to girls, contrary to popular belief he's actually not (completely) clueless with girls and he can sweet talk if he really wants to (he starts off stumbling like an idiot though)

-he's failling a good percentage of his classes for half the year because he figured that he wasn't gonna go far in life even if he didn't end up dead by 18 and his parents don't care about him enough to check his report cards

-at the end of the year the week before you can't do any more retakes and turn in late work he'll just do everything in one go because he doesn't really wanna be held back (he ends up passing with b's and c's)

-he's actually really good at making shit he has a drawer full of small little trinkets he's made in his spare time

-he learned how to make things to pass the time because before the gang he really didn't have friends and he didn't have a good excuse to go out anyway so he just locked himself in his room and began making things out of paper and rearranging action figures he stole from the junkyard or from second-hand stores

-more than half of his creations look like the shit Sid from toy story made

-he's so oblivous when people like him it's ridiculous and when he does realize they like him he just kinda is like "oh...oh...OH?!!!"

-even when he does like them back his first instance is to distance himself from them he thinks it's something that'll like pass

-he's dyslexic which is why he always makes Ponyboy do his English homework and read his homework to him in general

-adding onto the headcanon about him being cold all the time, for that very reason you'll never catch him out of him dead out of his jacket (well I guess that's not true bc he died without it but wtv)

-another reason is that he has a lot of scarring and bruises from his parents that he hates seeing

-dally was the first person to meet Johnny and he was kinda like "damn look at that little possum...it's coming home with me" and when he asked Johnny his name he had mumbled it so when he said it it sounded like Johnny cakes so for like half a year dally called him that before randomly correcting him

"yeah, so johnny cakes here-"

"Johnny Cade."

"huh? What you say, little man?"

"My name's Johnny Cade, not Johnny Cakes."

"..."

"..."

"are you serious-"

-Johnny's a gossip whore whether he admits it or not. the perks of being quiet and going unnoticed is that people will say there business loud and proud in front of you because they have forgotten you were even there.

-he will without a doubt tell Ponyboy after.

-and since Ponyboy has little to no understanding of the meaning of keeping things to himself he will in fact tell the rest of the gang

*requests for hcs/ or fics are always welcome*

[simpingforstardew]

misty [chapter two]

pairing: sdv harvey x reader

synopsis: harvey has always been a man of routine and order— although just as he begins to tire of his life in pelican town, a new farmer moves to the valley and turns his life around. chapter two.

warnings: some angst in this one (tw/ description of familial death). pure fluff and romance; eventual smut, but that'll be tagged when the time comes !! please enjoy my harvey playlist while you read ♡ (this is crossposted from ao3).

word count: 1.6k

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The Stardrop Saloon, bathed in the soft glow of warm, dim lighting, welcomes its patrons with a comforting ambiance. The air carried the distinct aroma of aged wood and the faint scent of a crackling fireplace, giving the bar a rustic charm. The gentle hum of conversation mixed with the mellow tunes emanating from the vintage jukebox, creating an intimate symphony that echoed throughout the space.

In the games lounge, a haven within the heart of the saloon, the atmosphere took on a relaxed and casual vibe. Two arcade machines stand as silent sentinels; their screens flicker with pixelated adventures. The soft glow of the games cast dancing shadows on the well-worn couches nearby, a testament to the countless conversations and moments that must have been shared over the years. Adjacent stands the pool table adorned with worn-out felt and scarred by countless games. A haphazard arrangement of colourful pool balls wait patiently for their turn, illuminated by the warm glow of an overhead light.

“What the fuck? Fired?” Shane’s disbelief echoed through the saloon, as the cue ball he hits ricochets off the side of the pool table, “Just like that?”

“Yep,” You chuckle— both at the absurdity of your own misfortune, and Shane’s awful shot “HR claimed my ‘extended bereavement’ could lead to ‘performance issues’ and ‘wasting company resources’… Whatever that means”

Shane let out a snort, taking a swig of his beer. “And here I thought working in retail was a special kind of hell. Turns out even the corporate suits have their own issues.”

You accepted the pool cue he passed your way, unable to resist a playful jab, “Thanks, Shane. You’re making me feel so much better.”

The short man scoffs, grabbing his beer from the table behind him to take a long sip. “Just sayin’, you dodged a bullet getting the fuck outta there.”

Chuckling, you circled the pool table, searching for the perfect shot, “Well, it’s not all bad. Getting the boot from Joja pushed me to embrace farm life here. Guess I’m lucky in a weird way.”

“Yeah, lucky you,” he deadpanned, though a glimmer of curiosity flickered in his eyes. His attempt at sarcasm faltered as your shot proved victorious, sinking the 8-ball with a delicate tap.

“Talk shit all you want, but it seems like my luck’s holding up pretty well considering I just wiped the floor with you.” You flashed a triumphant grin, leaning the pool cue against the wall. Shane’s stoic exterior cracked, and for a moment, a genuine smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Beginner’s luck,” he huffed, yet the twinkle in his eye hinted at a begrudging acceptance of your presence, “That kinda luck doesn’t count.”

“Yeah, yeah— A win is a win, Shane!” You shrug on your coat with a smile, heading towards the front door of the saloon, “You owe me a drink next time I’m here!”

Without turning to see Shane roll his eyes, you step out into the quiet darkness of the night. Your smile quickly fades as the door of the saloon swings shut, leaving behind the warmth of the bar. As you enter the town square, a serene hush settles over Pelican Town, its sett streets bathe in the soft, ambient glow of vintage street lamps scattered along the thoroughfare. The spring breeze carries the distant melody of an insectile symphony, the noise of crickets underscoring the serene ambiance that envelopes the town.

Strolling through unfamiliar streets under the moonlit sky, your steps echo against the rough cobblestones beneath you. Your shoulders are hunched against the night chill and your gaze remains fixed on the ground, a mosaic of uneven stones beneath your feet. Each step whispers a story of the town’s resilience, of seasons changing, and the curious rhythm of life in Pelican Town.

Once inside the farmhouse, however, you realize that you have made a grave misstep. Arranging for your grandfather’s funeral, clearing your new land of trees and shrubbery, drinking with the townsfolk— these had all allowed you to keep your hands busy and your mind blank. Now, alone in your dark farmhouse, you had no distractions from your new reality.

The house itself was bleak. Each attempt to redecorate felt like an intrusion— as if the space itself was resisting your efforts to make it feel like home. The bed stood as a lonely sentinel in the corner of the room, illuminated by the crackling flames of the fireplace on the furthest wall. The room itself was adorned with remnants of your grandfather’s presence; even your sleeping cat— Pixel— was the runt of your grandfather’s cat’s litter.

A small pot of forget-me-nots, once vibrant, now drooped listlessly on the windowsill. You reached out, your fingers gently brushing against the frail petals, a silent acknowledgment of the grief that clung to every corner of the room. You are at least blessed with a working CRT television, although with access to only two channels in the valley, the device feels like a relic of a bygone era.

A cold draft sweeps through the room as you look above the TV: the otherwise barren wall displays a single faded family photograph, featuring your late grandfather, grandmother, and you. The glass of the frame cracked during the move and the photograph itself never seems to hang straight. You move to bring the photograph down from its place on the wall, holding it delicately in your hands— as if it could shatter at any moment. The photograph captures a moment frozen in the sepia hues of nostalgia.

In the centre, your grandfather stands tall, a patriarchal figure with calloused hands cradling a newborn lamb. His eyes, warm and crinkled with a lifetime of stories, radiate a quiet wisdom that guided your childhood. Besides him, your grandmother’s hands gently cup a cluster of wildflowers. The fabric of her apron was slightly swept, caught in the breeze. In the foreground, you: a child with innocent eyes and a smile that mirrored the joy of the moment. Clutched in your small hands was a clumsy, makeshift bouquet. The backdrop was the farmhouse itself, standing proudly amidst a sea of greenery; the sun bathed the scene in a warm glow. Yet, even in this idyllic tableau, there lingered a subtle melancholy, as if the photograph itself harboured the prescience of inevitable goodbyes.

The frame, once resplendent, now bears the scars of time—a crack here, a chip there. The glass that shields the captured memories has grown cloudy, as if the passage of years had draped a delicate veil over the faces of those who once shared laughter under the farmhouse’s sturdy roof. A sob escapes your throat as a tear splashes on the glass of the portrait; hesitantly, you place the photograph on top of your small table. You take a step back. You chuckle solemnly, wiping your eyes using the back of your sleeves as you yawn.

Pixel mews softly, as you climb into the cold sheets of your bed, before falling back to sleep. The silence of the farmhouse envelopes you like a weighted blanket, as moonlight floods through the windows of the farmhouse. It seemed that sleep was becoming increasingly elusive as you tossed and turned in bed.

The gratitude for your budding friendship with Elliot and Shane brings a bittersweet comfort, as you stare up at the ceiling, watching the way the moonlight casts a silver glow above. Elliot was the first person in the valley to approach you. His efforts to get to know you eased your anxiety about the new town. Shane was a tough nut to crack, but you suppose any stranger is your friend after too many beers— at the very least, you had a new drinking buddy.

The doctor you met before entering the saloon flashes through your mind as your eyes flutter shut.

‘Harvey,’ You mentally correct yourself, ‘His name is Harvey… and he doesn’t like decaf.’ You softly exhale, a smile tugging at your lips. He was… cute? A little bashful, sure, but he was more than gorgeous enough to make up for his nerves. Your face heats up thinking about his broad, towering figure; and the way his moustache curls up with his coy grin; and the way his dimpled, freckled cheeks blush so intensely when you look into his forest green eyes…

You turn to cover your face in your firm pillow, attempting to control your wondering thoughts; eventually, your breathing slows and your blush fades as you finally drift off.

[frickingnerd]

something that'll last forever

pairing: claude von riegan x gn!reader

summary: after claude finds out that you've been proposed to, he realizes that if he doesn't confess to you now, he'll lose you forever

tags: confession + proposal (claude to reader), lorenz proposing to reader, best friends to lovers, wholesome fluff, claude being serious for once, holding hands & kissing

claude knew that eventually the day would come when someone else would show interest in you and where he'd have to tell you how he felt about you. but he didn't think that day would come so soon…

he heard about it from hilda. apparently, lorenz had proposed to you! you still hadn't given him a clear answer, but it was clear that this was a proposal you couldn't easily turn down. after all, he was the first and only man proposing to you. though claude planned to change that!

claude had invited you to his room, under the premise of just being nosey about lorenz's proposal. of course, he hadn't told you that he'd propose to you as well. he wasn't even sure how he'd go about it. but he knew that he had to do it. now or never!

“let me guess…” you plopped down onto claude's bed next to him. “you want to talk about lorenz's proposal…”

claude got a bit nervous when you addressed the topic so casually. was it that obvious?

“you're not the first one to ask me about it. everyone wants to know all about it. the ring, the location and what he promised me…”

claude was a bit relieved to hear that he wasn't the first one to ask. though he certainly was curious about everything that happened. and how you felt about it.

“and? did his promise sound good? good enough for you to marry him?”

claude had never been as nervous as he had been now. if you'd tell him you wanted to accept lorenz's proposal, then what was he supposed to do? propose to you anyways? or let you live in peace, unaware of his feelings for you…?

“well…” you hesitated. “i haven't given him an answer yet. i think that says it all. but i haven't rejected him either…”

that answer was as vague as it could be. it sounded like you weren't even sure yourself yet if you wanted to marry lorenz.

“is there something that would help you make up your mind…?”

claude sat up on his bed, holding eye contact with you. his gaze was so intense, as if he feared you'd slip away once he took his eyes off you.

“maybe…”

you stared back at him. but you didn't specify what could potentially change your mind. almost like you didn't want to say it out loud. just like claude didn't want to say out loud how he felt about you, because he was terrified of your answer. but he had to.

“alright…” he took a deep breath, to prepare himself. “then let me say something, that might help you find clarity”

his hand found its way into his pocket, grabbing the ring he had gotten for you. but he didn't pull it out. not yet. he just needed to remind himself that it was there and what he needed to do now.

“i know i'm not the type for this serious talk. but you're my best friend and i don't want to lose you. i don't want to ruin what we have, but i want you. and if i don't say it out loud now, i'll lose you to lorenz and have to regret not telling you how i feel for the rest of my life…”

claude took a deep breath, pulling out the ring.

“marry me! i swear to you, that i'll make you just as happy, if not happier, than lorenz ever could!”

the tension was unbearable. it was only a moment of silence, but it felt like an eternity to claude. he could hear his own heart beating so loudly, that he was sure you could too. never in his life had he feared something as much as he feared your answer.

“i don't want to lose you either…”

you carefully reached out your hand towards claude, grabbing the hand he was holding the ring in.

“if you truly mean what you said, then i don't have to think twice about it. i've loved you ever since our first year at the officers academy. through the years, my feelings for you never changed. you're the person i love the most…”

claude smiled happily, pulling his hand away from yours, so that he could cup your cheeks and press a kiss onto your lips.

“i know i joke around a lot, but i am serious about this. i meant what i said. i'll make you happier than anyone else can!”

[otrtbs]

writer interview game ✨

thank you for tagging me linds!! <3 @inevitablestars

how many works do you have on ao3? 5 on my otrtbs account (+1 unpublished one) and 6 on my otrtbs_shorts account (where all my one shots and short stories went!!)

what's your total ao3 word count? 580,654

your top 5 stories by kudos? Art Heist, Baby! Tender Curiosities, Baby! Winterlude Angel of Death You and Me

do you respond to comments? i try!!!! i really try!!! ahb! gets unmanageable i fear but if you get there early enough on new chapters that i post on new stories, i really try to get to them!!

what's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending? uhm. i guess art heist, baby! but tbh i feel like i could go angstier... maybe that'll be a writing goal for the new year...

do you write crossovers? no! haven't yet. but i was just talking to some friends today about something so cursed ....that could be my magnum opus if i wasn't a coward

have you ever received hate on a fic? no, never!!! everyone is really nice and respectful and can keep it peaceful and fun :))) !1!1!1!1! (<- girl who is manifesting for the future <- my fic has been eviscerated on goodreads and reddit and tiktok and twitter and in my tumblr asks and on ao3 i wouldn't be surprised if people are adding it to their linkedin atp)

do you write smut? very poorly and briefly and not really el oh el

have you ever had a fic stolen? not plagiarized, no!!! thank god!! but stolen and sold....well, yes i fear.

have you ever had a fic translated? yes! so many wonderful sexy versions of art heist, baby! out there for people to enjoy !! angel of death has been translated too!!

have you ever co-written a fic before? no, because collabing scares me. in the sense that i would be worried that i wasn't writing to my co-authors expectations and also ... if they don't directly align to My Vision i will also throw up. so. i don't think co-writing is in the cards for me

what's your all-time favorite ship? JEGULUS <3 jegulus. my forever girls <3

what's a wip that you want to finish but don't think you ever will? when i say i have...a master timeline full of every event that happened to bellatrix, andromeda, narcissa, sirius, and regulus.... detailing their time at school, what classes they take, key life events...just for me to use to write a massive canon-compliant fic of their lives.... i have put in HOURS and HOURS of work into that wip but i don't think it'll ever be done and/or see the light of day

what are your writing strengths? i really love writing detailed, descriptive interior scenes. it's one of my favorite things to do! i see every interior scene in my fic like a little still-life painting and i want the reader to be able to visualize the same still-life im seeing in my head in their head!!

what are your writing weaknesses? commas </3 grammar in general... like sorry 2 ur honor. but who fucking cares? do you get the vibes? are the vibes there? that's all i care about.

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? i love it!! i've learned a lot of fun phrases from it !!

what's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to? im gonna write moonchaser (jamus, wolfbucks? idfk) !!!!!! when my james/remus thesis drops i swear !!!!!!!!

what's your favorite fic you've ever written? Winterlude!!! Winterlude is my favorite child, she's beautiful, she's gorgeous, she's fun, minimal angst, happy endings, regulus is hot as fuck in it, i want to go to there so bad. winterlude !!!!!

okay, i'm no pressure tagging @rabidlittlestrawberry @whorerific @pretentiouswreckingball @twisted-tales-told @residentrookie 💕