#3744 words

[reallygroovyninja]

Something Blue

Clarke stood at the foot of the stone steps leading up to the grand church, her eyes tracing the intricate carvings on the archway. The air was filled with the scent of fresh flowers and the distant sound of joyous music from inside, but for Clarke, it all seemed distant, almost surreal. 

As she watched couples and families enter the church, laughing and chatting in their elegant attire, a sense of dread settled in her stomach. She was supposed to be one of them, full of anticipation and joy, but instead, she felt like an outsider looking in. 

Her hand instinctively went to the necklace Finn had given her, a habit she hadn't been able to break even months after their breakup. They had talked about marriage, about a future together. If things had gone differently, if they had still been together, maybe it would have been them sending out wedding invitations, choosing flowers, and tasting cake samples. 

But that dream had crumbled just like their relationship, leaving her with a heart still tender from the loss. She remembered the nights she spent planning their hypothetical wedding, the places they would go, the life they would build. And now, standing outside this church, those dreams felt like echoes from someone else's life. 

Taking a deep breath, Clarke adjusted the clutch in her hand and forced a smile. She was here for her friend's happiness, not to dwell on her own broken fairytales. Yet, as she took the first step towards the church entrance, each movement felt heavier, weighed down by the ghost of what could have been. 

Inside, the wedding would be a celebration of love, a reminder of the commitment she once thought she'd have by now. But Clarke Griffin was no stranger to overcoming pain and adversity. With a final glance at the church's ornate doors, she steeled herself for the flood of emotions that awaited her and stepped forward, leaving her lost dreams on the steps behind her. 

Inside the church, away from the bustling crowd of guests, Lexa found herself in a quiet corner with Lincoln, the groom. The grandeur of the church's interior, with its stained glass windows casting colorful patterns on the floor, formed a stark contrast to the nervous energy emanating from Lincoln. 

"Hey, let me help you with that," Lexa offered gently, noticing Lincoln fumbling with his bowtie. Her hands were steady and skilled as she reached out to adjust the slightly askew accessory. 

Lincoln gave her a grateful look, his hands falling to his sides. "Thanks, Lexa. I can't believe I'm still nervous about getting this right," he chuckled nervously, trying to mask his pre-wedding jitters. 

"It's normal to be nervous," Lexa reassured him, focusing on perfecting the bowtie. "It's a big day. But you know, everything's going to be great. Octavia is lucky to have you." 

As she smoothed out the fabric, Lincoln's gaze was thoughtful, almost introspective. "I'm the lucky one," he murmured. "I never thought I'd find someone who understood me like she does." 

Lexa smiled at his words, a tinge of wistfulness in her eyes. "That's what makes it all worth it, doesn't it? Finding someone who gets you, who stands by you no matter what." 

Lincoln nodded, his expression softening. "Exactly. And hey, don't worry, Lexa. Your person is out there too. Someone who will see you for the amazing person you are." 

Her smile was a mix of gratitude and melancholy. "I hope so." 

With the bowtie now impeccably in place, Lexa took a step back, giving Lincoln an encouraging pat on the shoulder. "There, you're all set. Octavia is waiting for you. Go make some beautiful memories." 

As Lincoln moved towards the altar, Lexa lingered in the shadows, her gaze drifting across the church. She couldn't help but feel a sense of solitude amidst the celebration of love around her. Yet, there was also a quiet strength in her stance, a resilience that spoke of her journey and the hope that still lingered in her heart. 

As Clarke entered the church, she felt the weight of dozens of eyes glancing her way. A friendly usher, noticing her hesitation, offered his arm. "This way, Miss. You're seated on the bride's side." 

Gratefully, Clarke accepted his assistance. As they walked down the aisle, her gaze swept over the opulent decorations. The church was adorned with an array of beautiful flowers, their fragrance subtly perfuming the air. Above, the stained glass windows painted the interior with a kaleidoscope of light, casting ethereal patterns on the guests. 

The guests themselves were an assortment of familiar and unknown faces. Couples whispered to each other, children fidgeted in their seats, and older relatives looked on with sentimental smiles. Each person seemed to radiate a sense of joy and celebration, yet Clarke couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy at their apparent contentment. 

Her eyes then fell upon the groom, Lincoln, standing at the altar. He looked both nervous and excited, embodying the very essence of a man on the brink of a new life chapter. Beside him stood a woman, her back turned to Clarke, skillfully adjusting his bowtie. Something about her posture, the confident way she moved, piqued Clarke's curiosity. 

As the woman finished her task and stepped back, she turned slightly, allowing Clarke a glimpse of her profile. Even from a distance, there was an unmistakable strength and grace about her. Clarke found herself momentarily captivated, her own anxieties momentarily forgotten. 

The usher gently guided Clarke to her seat, breaking her line of sight. As she settled into her place, she couldn't help but glance back towards the altar, the image of the mysterious woman lingering in her mind. The ceremony was about to begin, but Clarke's thoughts were already weaving a story about the stranger who seemed so at ease in a moment that felt so pivotal. 

After ensuring Lincoln was ready, Lexa quietly slipped away to find her seat on the groom's side. The church was filled with a gentle hum of anticipation as the guests eagerly awaited the ceremony's start. Lexa moved with a quiet grace, her eyes scanning the rows until she found her designated spot. 

As she settled into her seat, the lights dimmed slightly, signaling the ceremony's commencement. The guests hushed, turning their attention to the back of the church. The opening notes of a soft, melodic processional filled the air, and all heads turned in unison. 

Then, there she was – Octavia. She appeared at the entrance, radiant and ethereal, her gown flowing behind her like a cascade of liquid moonlight. Every detail of her attire, from the delicate lace to the subtle shimmer of her veil, spoke of elegance and grace. 

Lexa watched, a warm smile playing on her lips. She had seen Octavia go through highs and lows, and now here she was, taking confident, poised steps towards a new chapter of her life. Lincoln's face, awash with emotion, mirrored the awe and love that filled the church. 

The guests were visibly moved, some dabbing their eyes, others smiling broadly. Lexa's gaze briefly swept over the crowd, noting the varied expressions of joy and sentimentality. Her eyes briefly met a blonde across the aisle, a fleeting connection that lingered just a moment longer than necessary. 

Clarke's heart swelled with affection for her friend; Octavia, who had always been more like a sister, was about to embark on one of life's most beautiful journeys. 

As Octavia gracefully made her way down the aisle, Clarke's eyes were drawn to her, witnessing each confident step that brought her closer to Lincoln. There was something incredibly moving about the scene, something that stirred a mixture of emotions within Clarke – joy for Octavia, nostalgia for what could have been, and a lingering sense of loneliness. 

In a brief respite from her emotions, Clarke's gaze wandered across the aisle. It was then that her eyes met a brunette’s. The connection was fleeting, a mere moment in which two strangers acknowledged each other's presence. Yet, in that brief exchange, Clarke sensed an unspoken understanding, a shared feeling of being solitary in a room full of paired souls. 

The brunette’s eyes held a depth that intrigued Clarke, a hint of empathy and strength that resonated with her own feelings. The moment passed quickly as Octavia approached the altar, but the brief connection left a lingering curiosity in Clarke's mind, a small spark amidst the solemnity of the ceremony. 

The ceremony was a tapestry of emotion and beauty, woven with the threads of love and commitment. As Octavia and Lincoln exchanged their vows, their voices filled with the depth of their feelings, the church was enveloped in a sense of sacred solemnity. The vows echoed not just as promises to each other but as affirmations of the power of love. 

Clarke, watching from her seat, felt a whirlwind of emotions. The sincerity in Octavia's voice, the way Lincoln's eyes shone with unshed tears, all of it reminded her of the fragility and strength of love. Despite her own heart's recent scars, she couldn't help but be moved by the beauty of the moment. It was a poignant reminder of what love could be, what it should be. 

Across the aisle, Lexa observed the ceremony with a quiet respect. The depth of the couple's commitment, the way their hands clasped tightly, spoke volumes about the journey they were embarking upon. As someone who valued strength and loyalty, Lexa found a deep appreciation for the solemnity and joy of the occasion. 

When the officiant finally pronounced Octavia and Lincoln as husband and wife, the church erupted in applause. The sound was like a wave of happiness washing over everyone, uniting them in a shared moment of joy. As the newlyweds turned to face their guests, their faces radiant, Clarke and Lexa joined in the applause, each lost in their own reflections. 

The moment the couple walked down the aisle, petals and light surrounding them, Clarke caught the brunette's eye again. This time, the connection lingered a bit longer, a silent acknowledgment of the beauty they had both witnessed. There was an unspoken understanding, a shared experience that momentarily bridged the distance between them. 

As Octavia and Lincoln passed by, their happiness seemed to light up the room. Clarke felt a smile tug at her lips, genuinely happy for her friend, while Lexa's eyes followed the couple with a soft, reflective gaze. 

The reception was held in a beautifully decorated hall, where tables adorned with elegant centerpieces and soft, ambient lighting created a welcoming atmosphere. Clarke entered the hall, her eyes scanning the room for her assigned table. The chatter and laughter of the guests filled the air, mixing with the soft melodies playing in the background. 

She navigated through the crowd, her hands lightly brushing against the fabric of her dress. The table numbers, elegantly written on small placards, guided her through the sea of guests. As she located her table, a sense of relief washed over her. The thought of finding a familiar face in the crowd had been a small beacon of comfort. 

Approaching her table, Clarke glanced at the place cards, searching for her name. Finding it, she sighed softly, preparing herself for an evening of polite conversation with acquaintances. However, as she took her seat, she couldn't help but notice the person seated to the right of her spot. 

It was the brunette. 

The same woman who had helped the groom with his bowtie, the same woman she had shared a fleeting, yet memorable, glance with during the ceremony. Lexa was already seated, her posture relaxed yet elegant, a glass of wine in her hand. She looked up as Clarke approached, their eyes meeting once again. 

"Hi, I'm Clarke," she said, extending her hand with a polite smile. 

"Lexa," came the reply, accompanied by a firm, warm handshake. There was a hint of recognition in Lexa's eyes, a subtle acknowledgment of their earlier encounter. 

Clarke took her seat, feeling an unexpected ease in Lexa's presence. The coincidence of their seating arrangement seemed to break down the initial barriers of conversation.  

As the reception carried on, with guests milling around and the soft clinking of glasses punctuating the air, Lexa turned to Clarke with a curious tilt of her head. "So, how do you know Octavia?" she asked, her voice carrying a genuine interest. 

Clarke paused for a moment, her gaze drifting as she gathered her thoughts. "We grew up together in Arkadia," she began, a hint of nostalgia coloring her voice. "It's a small town where everyone knows everyone. Octavia and I, we've been through a lot together. It's one of those friendships that's as much about surviving the bad times as it is about celebrating the good ones." 

Lexa listened attentively, her eyes reflecting a deep understanding. "Sounds like you've shared quite a journey. It's rare to have that kind of lasting connection from childhood." 

"Yeah, it is," Clarke agreed, her smile softening. "Octavia's more like a sister than a friend. We've supported each other through everything – family dramas, school, the whole rollercoaster of growing up. And now, seeing her get married, it's like a new chapter for her, for both of us, really." 

The conversation flowed effortlessly, with Lexa sharing bits of her own experiences and Clarke elaborating on her childhood in Arkadia. They talked about the adventures they had as kids, the challenges of finding their paths as adults, and the importance of having someone to rely on through it all. 

As they spoke, Clarke felt a growing sense of connection with Lexa. It was comforting to talk to someone who understood the value of deep, enduring friendships. Lexa's presence, her easy conversation, and her empathetic listening made Clarke feel at ease, a feeling she hadn't expected to find at the wedding. 

As the night progressed, the atmosphere in the reception hall grew increasingly festive. Music filled the air, mingling with the sounds of laughter and conversation. Clarke and Lexa, lost in their own world, found their glasses refilled more often than not, the flow of alcohol mirroring the flow of their conversation. 

The more they talked, the more relaxed they became. The initial formalities and polite small talk gave way to deeper, more candid exchanges. Stories about their pasts, their dreams, their disappointments, and their triumphs were shared over the clinking of glasses and the occasional laughter. 

Lexa's humor, dry and well-timed, had Clarke laughing more freely than she had in months. In return, Clarke's openness, and her ability to see the beauty in small things brought a smile to Lexa's face, one that seemed to light up her entire being. 

With each sip of wine, their guards lowered further. The alcohol, acting as a social lubricant, erased the last remnants of any awkwardness between them. They teased each other, challenged each other, and found comfort in the easy banter that had developed. 

In a room full of people celebrating love and union, Clarke and Lexa found themselves exploring a different kind of connection – one born out of chance, nurtured through conversation, and solidified with a mutual understanding and respect. 

The reception, with its joyous celebration, had unknowingly become the backdrop for the beginning of a beautiful friendship. As they continued to talk, the possibilities of where this newfound bond could lead seemed as endless as the night itself. 

As the reception reached its peak, with the music growing louder and the crowd more animated, Lexa leaned closer to Clarke, her voice barely audible over the din. "Would you like to step outside for a bit? It's quieter out there," she suggested, a hint of eagerness in her tone. 

Clarke, who had been feeling slightly overwhelmed by the noise and the bustle of the reception, nodded in agreement. "That sounds great," she replied, grateful for the offer. 

They excused themselves from the table, weaving through the throngs of dancing and chatting guests. The contrast between the boisterous atmosphere inside and the tranquility of the outdoors was striking. As they stepped outside, the cool night air was a welcome relief, carrying with it the scent of the evening flowers. 

The venue's garden, beautifully illuminated by soft, twinkling lights, offered a serene escape from the festivities. Clarke took a deep breath, feeling the noise and clamor of the reception fade away, replaced by a peaceful stillness. 

Lexa led the way to a secluded bench under a canopy of stars. They sat down, the quiet enveloping them like a soothing blanket. The distant sounds of the party became a gentle hum, allowing them a space to talk without having to raise their voices. 

The calm of the night seemed to open up a different space between them, one where words flowed more thoughtfully, and silences held a comfortable ease. Lexa's gaze on Clarke was attentive, her presence both grounding and reassuring. 

Sitting there, under the night sky, Clarke felt an unexpected sense of contentment. The chaos of her thoughts, the reminders of her past that had haunted her during the ceremony, seemed to dissipate in Lexa's company. 

They spoke about everything and nothing – the stars above them, the dreams they harbored, the simple joys of life. It was a conversation that meandered effortlessly, punctuated by moments of laughter and reflective silence. 

In that quiet garden, away from the eyes and ears of the world, Clarke and Lexa found themselves sharing not just words, but parts of their souls. It was a connection that neither had anticipated, a serendipitous meeting of hearts and minds that neither would soon forget. 

As the night wore on, Clarke and Lexa remained outside, engrossed in their conversation under the vast, star-studded sky. The world inside the reception seemed a distant memory, and the tranquility of the night enveloped them in its embrace. 

The stars shone brightly above, casting a gentle glow over the garden. The air was cool, but the warmth between Clarke and Lexa seemed to defy the chill. They talked about everything from the constellations above to the little intricacies of their lives, each revelation bringing them closer. 

In those quiet hours, a subtle shift occurred between them. The laughter and conversation gradually gave way to moments of comfortable silence, where words were no longer needed. They sat close, their shoulders brushing occasionally, sending a tingling sensation through Clarke. 

Lexa turned to Clarke, her eyes reflecting the starlight, and in them, Clarke saw a depth of emotion that resonated with her own feelings. There was a question in Lexa's gaze, a silent inquiry that seemed to hang in the air between them. 

Clarke's heart raced as she met Lexa's eyes, the world around them fading into obscurity. In that moment, there was only Lexa, her captivating eyes, and the unspoken connection that had been building throughout the evening. 

Slowly, almost hesitantly, Lexa leaned in, her gaze never leaving Clarke's. Clarke's breath hitched, anticipation and a rush of emotions flooding her senses. Their lips met in a kiss that was gentle at first, but quickly deepened with the pent-up emotion of the night. 

The kiss was a fusion of everything they had shared – the laughter, the stories, the understanding, and the undeniable attraction. It felt right, like a missing piece falling into place, a sweet culmination of the connection that had sparked between them. 

As they pulled away, their eyes locked once more, a new understanding passing between them. The kiss had changed something, neither of them had expected but both welcomed. 

In the aftermath of their first kiss, Clarke and Lexa's eyes lingered on each other, an unspoken question hanging in the air. The initial softness of their embrace evolved into something more, a tangible electricity that coursed between them. 

Lexa's hand found its way to Clarke's cheek, her touch tender yet full of intent. Clarke's response was immediate, her own hand reaching up to gently rest on Lexa's. The world around them seemed to stand still, the distant sounds of the reception fading into nothingness. 

Their next kiss was initiated by Clarke, bolder now, a reflection of the desire that had been simmering just beneath the surface. Lexa met her with equal passion, their lips moving together in a dance as old as time. The kiss deepened, fueled by the emotions that had been building throughout the evening - a mix of newfound affection, attraction, and a hint of something deeper. 

The garden around them, bathed in moonlight and shadow, became their sanctuary. The kisses grew more fervent, more insistent, as if they were trying to communicate all the words they hadn't yet spoken. Each touch, each caress, spoke volumes, telling stories of longing, discovery, and a budding love. 

Clarke felt herself being pulled into a whirlpool of sensation, each kiss igniting a fire within her that she hadn't known existed. Lexa's presence, so strong yet gentle, was an anchor in the storm of emotions Clarke was experiencing. 

Their kisses were like whispers in the night, fervent and full of promise. In those moments, nothing else mattered but the feel of Lexa's lips on hers, the taste of a beginning, the sensation of falling into something new and terrifyingly beautiful. 

As they finally broke apart, breathless and with hearts racing, the reality of their surroundings slowly seeped back in. The distant music, the gentle rustling of the leaves in the breeze, the soft glow of the lights in the garden – all bore witness to the transformation of their relationship from strangers to something more profound. 

Under the canopy of stars, Clarke and Lexa found not just a connection, but a passion that promised the dawn of a new day in their lives, a day they were both eager to embrace. 

From the balcony overlooking the garden, Lincoln and Octavia paused in their festivities to take in the view below. Their eyes landed on Clarke and Lexa, visible in the soft light of the garden, caught in an intimate moment.  

Lincoln raised his eyebrows in surprise, but Octavia merely smiled, a knowing look in her eyes. "I had a feeling about those two," she said to Lincoln, her voice laced with a hint of satisfaction. "When I was planning the seating arrangements, something told me to put them together. Looks like I was onto something." She leaned against Lincoln, her expression one of contentment, happy not just for their own union, but for the potential new beginning blooming in the garden below. 

#did i work on #promise me always - nope #blurred lines sequel - nope #blurred lines prequel - nope #did i decide to write something else - hell yeah #Something Blue #3744 words

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

You Shouldn't Kiss Me Like This.... (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Fandom: Outer Range, Rhett Abbott, f!reader Summary: You and Rhett have a unique friendship. Every time you go out with a group, you end up getting drunk, dancing, and making out with him only to then wind up going home with other people. But what happens when Rhett asks you to dance before either of you has had a drink.... Word Count: 3744 TW: Fluff, Kissing, Love Confession, Drinking, Mentions of drunk making out, Mentions of drunk dancing, Language Notes: For @ohtobeleah's Galentine's Day Special based on "You Shouldn't Kiss Me Like This" by Toby Keith (RIP 😔💗)

Despite the relatively early hour, the bar was busier than usual even for a Saturday night. You had forgotten there was some big sports thing that weekend the next town over so the overabundance of unfamiliar faces blending into the sea of regulars was a bit of a shock when you first arrived with your friends but—miraculously—the six of you managed to stake your claim on a table not too far from where you usually sat. 

However, you had struggled to squeeze through the crowd and since everyone else was already sitting when you finally caught up, it was unanimously decided you should fight your way back up to the bar to get the first round of drinks. You put up a brief mock protest before surrendering to the peer pressure, but secretly, you didn’t mind. It gave you a chance to scope out the space and see if any of the out-of-towners caught your eye. Your town wasn’t small per se, but even in a medium-sized pond, there were only so many fish. So when there was a chance at some fresh blood, why not take advantage?

What seemed like an eternity later, you pushed your way back to your friends and practically threw the beers onto the table before collapsing into the booth. While you had enjoyed watching all the new potential hookups around you, you had also been relentlessly jostled, had beer spilled on your boots, and had three separate guys grab your ass before claiming it was an “accident” due to the crowd. And all just to get a crappy $7 beer. Ridiculous.

As you took your first drink, you finally realized only five people were sitting around the table instead of six. Nudging Parker who was sitting next to you, you leaned over and shouted above the music, “Where’d Rhett go?”

She shrugged dismissively, her attention locked on some douchy-looking frat bro eye-fucking her from a few tables away. “I don’t know. He said something about going to help you with the drinks or something.”

“Well, I never saw him.”

“He’s a big boy. He’ll find his way back. Or not.” She pointed at the frat bro, signaling the end of her interest in your questions. “What do you think about him?”

Without glancing back over, you deadpanned, “I think if you let him even touch you, you should get tested in the morning.”

She rolled her eyes at you before sitting up straighter as she bit her lip and coyly waved at the frat bro, clearly dismissing you. 

You caught Alec’s eye over the top of Parker’s head and you both tried to suppress a chuckle. Parker infamously made the worst choices when it came to men and she only dug her claws in deeper when any of you tried to talk her out of them, so it was better to just let her do whatever she was going to do and help her deal with the consequences afterward.

Relaxing back in your seat, you took another long drink from your beer. It was now almost half empty and just the thought of wading back through the crowd for another one made you internally groan. Though you could probably convince Alec to go since you got the first round but that would involv–

Your internal conversation was cut off as you spotted Rhett pushing his way through the crowd towards the table. Sitting up, you smiled at him. “Oh, there you are. I thought you might have gotten trampled by the mob of people or something. Your beer’s getting war–”

“Come dance with me.”

You were taken aback as he thrust out his hand to help you up from the table. 

It was a given at this point that by the end of the night, you and Rhett would end up hammered, uninhibited, and viciously making out in the middle of the dance floor. It’s what happened every time you went to the bar: You’d both drink, you’d both dance together, you’d both get all hot and bothered, and you’d both find someone else to take you home for the night. It was a strange system but it worked. Parker once joked that you were each other’s fluffers, just getting things ready for your real targets for the night. And while you would prefer to phrase it somewhat more tastefully, she wasn’t exactly wrong. Plus, you had found that a lot of guys (and girls in Rhett’s case) loved watching you making out with someone else, rubbing your body all over theirs, just for you to go home with them instead. It seemed as if the two of you weren’t the only ones getting fluffed in this situation.

However, neither you nor Rhett ever stepped foot on the dance floor until you’d finished at least three or four beers. He was fairly shy and reserved when sober and you both were very self-conscious of your dancing before getting at least slightly buzzed. Yet you were currently only halfway through beer number one and his first beer still sat unopened on the table next to you. Rhett might have pre-gamed on his own before you, Tara, and Spencer picked him up, but he seemed completely sober so you couldn’t imagine what he was thinking. 

“I–but we–I mean…”

Rhett smiled as he leaned in close to be heard over the music. “It’s just a dance, sweetheart. It ain’t anythin’ we don’t do every week.”

“Bu-but what about our drinks?”

“I’m sure Parker—” he took one glance at your friend sitting next to you still making “do-me” eyes at the frat boy and corrected his statement “—Tara wouldn’t mind keepin’ an eye on ‘em.”

“You two go,” Tara said, smiling from where she was sitting with Spencer’s arm draped across her shoulders. “Your drinks will still be here when you get back.”

“Well…maybe,” Spencer muttered just loud enough to be heard over the music as he eyed Rhett’s untouched beer.

Tara elbowed her boyfriend with a scowl before turning back to you and gesturing for you to go. Still confused about the change in your routine, you took Rhett’s hand and let him help you to your feet. As he led you towards the dance floor, you turned your head just in time to see Tara and Spencer laughing and shaking their heads as they watched the two of you leave. Then Spencer reached for Rhett’s beer but Tara slapped his hand away. 

You knew your friends didn’t understand this weird arrangement you and Rhett had fallen into—hell, it barely made sense to you. They were all convinced as they watched you week after week that the two of you were falling in love. They never believed you’re just friends having a little drunken fun.

Not that you hadn’t ever considered Rhett as a potential love connection. The first night you met him, that was where you thought things were headed. He had finally had enough of his toxic home life back in Wyoming and was looking for a fresh start somewhere new. So when a contact from his time bull-riding who lived in town offered him a job, he jumped at the opportunity. 

You met him a few days later in this very bar when you saw him sitting all alone in the back corner. Of course, you noticed his classic-cowboy good looks, but what really caught your eye was how nervous and shy he seemed, his eyes mostly trained on the beer in front of him except when they occasionally shifted around the bar uncertainly. It wasn’t as if he were scared of someone seeing him or that he was on the run from something. No. He looked like a kid on his first day of school who wasn’t sure of where to sit at lunch.

So, you had gone and sat down at his table with two beers and a friendly smile. It took quite a bit of patience and coaxing, but Rhett eventually began to open up to you. Then, just as you were going to make the move to his side of the booth, your friends found you and asked for an introduction. By the end of the night, Rhett had slipped naturally into the gang and it felt weird pursuing him in any romantic way after that. After all, you could see how much he needed a support system in this new town and you didn’t want to take that from him for a one-night fling. 

Which was why when you found yourselves sloppily making out in the middle of the dance floor a few weeks later and he just brushed it off like it was nothing, you didn’t push it or question it. And when it happened again, and again, and again, it just felt like a routine or a tradition and you never looked deeper into it.

But now Rhett had suddenly changed things up and you still had no idea why.

Once you reached the dance floor, Rhett pulled you in close and the two of you began to dance. There were so many people around you that you couldn’t move more than a few inches in any direction, but since you usually just rubbed against each other while making out, it shouldn’t have been an issue. However, without the usual buzz from the drinks, you were way too in your head about every move you made. Your usual fluid, natural movements felt stiff and robotic, and all you could think about was where Rhett’s hands were or what part of him was pressed against you at any given time. It was a disaster.

The song ended and a soft, melodic tune began to play. Slow songs were pretty rare but they were always the perfect opportunity for another drink, and boy did you need one. You turned to brave the crowd around the bar once more, however, Rhett’s fingers slipped into yours and he spun you back into his arms.

A half grin pulled at the corner of his mouth as he saw your surprised face and he asked, “You rushin’ off already? We just got out here.” 

“In case I’m the only one who has noticed, I’m not really feeling this right now. And besides, we don’t do slow dances.”

“Tonight we do.” He must have seen the hesitation still on your face because he squeezed your hand. “Come on. You can tough it out for one song, then they’ll play somethin’ fast we can move to and you’ll get into the flow of it. Otherwise, you’ll just be waitin’ in that line for the rest of the night.”

Even pressed against him and over the softer melody of the slow music, the deep timbre of his voice was still difficult to hear but you knew he was right. By the time you made it through the crowd of people to reach the bar for another drink, many upbeat songs would have passed and there was a good chance you’d be ticked off by your waiting experience just like the first time. Instead, you could just stick it out here with Rhett and you’d be back to your usual dancing in mere minutes. And he was probably right. Given a few more songs, you’d probably figure out this sober dancing thing and actually enjoy yourself. So, somewhat reluctantly, you nodded to signal you’d stay.

Apparently, many of the people around you had the same thought you originally did because the crowds around you began to thin out giving you and Rhett a little more room to maneuver. The two of you were swaying together slowly and you have to admit it’s a nice change from your usual high-energy grinding. 

Then as the music began to swell, he surprised you by spinning you out and when you twirled back into him, Rhett placed his hand on the center of your back and pulled you tight until you were pressed firmly against his chest. You looked up–unsure of what he was doing–just as his other hand brushed across your cheek to settle on the nape of your neck. One of the colored lights flashed across his face, illuminating the intensity deep within his eyes as he stared at you, and you felt your heart skip a beat as time seemed to freeze around you. 

But that was silly. This was Rhett. You shouldn’t feel this fluttering in your chest or tingling where his skin brushed yours. He was your good friend, someone you had made out with every week and barely gave it a second thought. So why was there this different feel about him tonight? Why couldn't you take your eyes off his lips, why was your head spinning, and why were your knees growing weak? And why didn’t you want it to stop?

Then, using the hand on the back of your neck to tilt your head, Rhett’s lips were suddenly on yours.

Electricity shot right through you as every nerve in your body seemed to light up at once. It felt like you had just jammed a fork into an electrical socket but in the best of ways. This was unlike any kiss you had ever shared with Rhett—with anyone—before. Usually, your kisses with Rhett were drunken, and sloppy, and uncoordinated. But this…Rhett was as sober as you ever see him, and every curl of his lips, every swipe of his tongue, it all felt so fluid, almost choreographed. As if he had planned for this moment for ages. 

Your eyes drifted closed as you let yourself sink deeper into his embrace. You could no longer tell if you were standing still or spinning around and around and around as a dizzying fog enveloped your mind. For a few seconds, you didn’t even know where you were at. All that existed was you and Rhett and the kiss. 

But then you shifted, the top of your head bumping into the brim of his hat almost knocking it off, and the spell was broken. Rhett pulled away, fixing his hat, and leaving you clinging to him for support as the world came rushing back to you. The slow song was still playing and crowds of people around you still occasionally bumped into you as they danced, And yet, from the moment Rhett’s lips touched yours, everything had changed.

But had he felt it too?

With your face still just a few inches away from his, you chuckled softly. “You know, you really shouldn’t kiss me like this.”

“An’ why’s that?” 

“You might give a girl the wrong impression. Make her start thinking lots of crazy things.”

For a moment, he didn’t respond. He just gave you that same intense stare he had just before the kiss and you felt your heart begin to speed up once more. Then, in a voice you could only just make out over the music, he asked, “What if that’s the point? What if I’m tired of waitin’ for her to figure out how I feel?”

All the air was sucked out of your lungs as his revelation drove into your chest like a fist. “Rhett…”

“No…No…” Before you could process what he was saying, he shook his head and stepped back, letting his hands fall to his sides as he released his hold on you. “’m sorry. I shouldn’t—I’m doin’ this all wrong. But I couldn’t take another week of you wrapped in my arms, your lips on mine, just to then watch you go home with someone else. I just…I just wanted you to know. ‘m sorry.”

He started to hurry off the dance floor but this time it was your turn to grab his arm to stop him from leaving. His eyes flickered up to yours and you saw that all the confidence and certainty that had been there before had been extinguished, leaving only fear behind. You knew it was the same fear you were feeling right now: fear of this changing everything; fear of this ruining your friendship; fear of what came next. 

Sliding your hand into his and linking your fingers, you muttered, “Come here” before leading him off the dance floor and back towards the rear of the building. There was a separate concert area back there that they only opened for shows so you knew it was one of the few places in the bar that would give you some semblance of privacy.

Once there, you ducked into the empty space and shut the door. You could still feel the vibrations from the music and hear the dull thumping, but it wasn’t as overwhelming as it had been before. In here, at least you and Rhett wouldn’t need to shout to be heard. 

Now that you were alone, neither one of you seemed to know what to say or how to start. You both shifted slightly as you glanced at each other. Finally, Rhett rubbed the back of his neck and said, “Listen, can we just forget any of that happened? I don’t want things to be weird between us and ‘m sorry if—”

“No, I’m sorry,” you said, cutting him off. “I was just a little surprised by that kiss and what I said didn’t come out right. But what I should have said, what I meant to say—” you stepped forward until you were brushing up against him, placing your hands on his chest. “—was ‘you shouldn’t kiss me like this…unless you mean it like that’.”

Rhett’s long eyelashes fluttered several times in quick succession and you saw his Adam’s apple bob wildly out of the corner of your eye. Licking his lips, he hesitated for another moment then asked, “And if I do? If I–If I mean it like that?”

Leaning forward, you whispered, “If you do, then, baby, kiss me again.”

The moment that his lips touched yours, the world once again fell away. If anything, now that you were returning his kiss with the same tenderness and enthusiasm, it was even more intoxicating than the kiss on the dance floor and you never wanted it to end.

Both of Rhett’s large, calloused hands slid up to cup your face, his thumb softly rubbing back and forth across your cheekbone. He used this leverage to drive you back a few steps and you soon felt your back bump against the wall. He pressed closer, sandwiching you between the cold, rough concrete and his warm, firm body. Another spark of electricity shot through you and you wondered if he felt it too as you felt the growing bulge in his pants jerk against your hip. 

Through the haze of the kiss, you briefly considered how far you should let this go. A small part of you wanted to undo his belt right this second and drop to your knees before him, or to slide down your jeans and let him pound into you against this wall. After all, the two of you were still alone and no one would see you. However, the bigger part of you knew no matter how amazing you felt at this moment, this was all very new and you shouldn’t rush things. You and Rhett still needed to figure out what this meant for the two of you moving forward, and adding sex right now would just make things even more complicated.

Rhett must have come to the same conclusion because he shifted his hips so they were no longer pressed against you. Then he reluctantly pulled his lips off of yours. His hands slid off your face onto the wall behind you, one braced on either side of your head as both of you stared at one another panting as you tried to catch your breath. All you could do was look at Rhett’s lips and imagine them pressed against yours once more. And from how he stared at you, a hunger pulsing in his blue eyes, you felt he was thinking the same thing. 

“Why didn’t you do that sooner?” you whispered.

“I wanted to since that first night we met. When I saw how kind, and funny, and incredible you were, I was smitten. But then the rest of the gang showed up and for the first time in a long time, I felt accepted. I was afraid makin’ a move on you would ruin all a that and I figured havin’ you as a friend was better than not havin’ you in my life at all. For a while, I settled for our dances and kisses, but I finally realized I didn’t want to be just your friend anymore. So, I took a chance.”

“I’m glad you did because I felt the same way.”

Rhett grinned. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You leaned forward and pressed a kiss into his cheek. “Thank you for being the brave one.”

Rhett’s cheeks grew red in the dim light but he nodded as he let his hands fall from the wall behind you. Standing up straight, he glanced over his shoulder. “Um, I guess we should probably get back before we get in trouble for bein’ back here.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Besides, I wouldn’t be surprised if Tara’s sent Spencer out to find us yet.” You pushed off the wall, but as Rhett started to open the door, you stopped him. “Rhett…what happens now? Where do we go from here?”

He thought for a moment before a sly grin spread across his face. Walking up to you, he plucked his cowboy hat off his head and placed it on top of yours, pulling the brim down low over your brow.

Since the night you met him, you had never seen Rhett let a single person wear his hat, let alone touch it. So for him to give it to you, even temporarily…

You squeezed his hand tightly as you gazed into his eyes, loving what you saw reflected there. “How do I look?”

“Damn, sweetheart, looks like it was made for you,” Rhett’s voice was thicker than normal as he stared at you. “I shouldda given it to you the night we met, as soon as you sat down at my table with that smile and a beer.”

Now it was your turn to feel the blood rushing to your cheeks. Glancing shyly at the floor, you asked, “I love it, but I’m not really sure how this answers my question about us?”

“What do you know about Cowboy Law?”

Thanks to @ohtobeleah for letting me include the honorary Dagger in her event 😂 I've wanted to write this for a while and it was the perfect motivation to do so

Tag list: @lorecraft, @heart-0n-fire, @nerdysuperchick, @green-socks, @mayhem24-7forever, @callsign-phoenix, @lt-natrace, @superskittles, @wkndwlff, @rhettabbotts, @ryebecca, @sio-ina-bottle, @lewmagoo, @basiccortez, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy,  @fantasticcopeaglepasta, @blue-aconite, @ohtobeleah

#fic #leahsgalentinesdayspecial #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott outer range #outer range #lewis pullman #fluff #love confessions #kissing #language tw #drinking tw #drunk behavior tw

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

You Shouldn't Kiss Me Like This.... (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Fandom: Outer Range, Rhett Abbott, f!reader Summary: You and Rhett have a unique friendship. Every time you go out with a group, you end up getting drunk, dancing, and making out with him only to then wind up going home with other people. But what happens when Rhett asks you to dance before either of you has had a drink.... Word Count: 3744 TW: Fluff, Kissing, Love Confession, Drinking, Mentions of drunk making out, Mentions of drunk dancing, Language Notes: For @ohtobeleah's Galentine's Day Special based on "You Shouldn't Kiss Me Like This" by Toby Keith (RIP 😔💗)

Despite the relatively early hour, the bar was busier than usual even for a Saturday night. You had forgotten there was some big sports thing that weekend the next town over so the overabundance of unfamiliar faces blending into the sea of regulars was a bit of a shock when you first arrived with your friends but—miraculously—the six of you managed to stake your claim on a table not too far from where you usually sat. 

However, you had struggled to squeeze through the crowd and since everyone else was already sitting when you finally caught up, it was unanimously decided you should fight your way back up to the bar to get the first round of drinks. You put up a brief mock protest before surrendering to the peer pressure, but secretly, you didn’t mind. It gave you a chance to scope out the space and see if any of the out-of-towners caught your eye. Your town wasn’t small per se, but even in a medium-sized pond, there were only so many fish. So when there was a chance at some fresh blood, why not take advantage?

What seemed like an eternity later, you pushed your way back to your friends and practically threw the beers onto the table before collapsing into the booth. While you had enjoyed watching all the new potential hookups around you, you had also been relentlessly jostled, had beer spilled on your boots, and had three separate guys grab your ass before claiming it was an “accident” due to the crowd. And all just to get a crappy $7 beer. Ridiculous.

As you took your first drink, you finally realized only five people were sitting around the table instead of six. Nudging Parker who was sitting next to you, you leaned over and shouted above the music, “Where’d Rhett go?”

She shrugged dismissively, her attention locked on some douchy-looking frat bro eye-fucking her from a few tables away. “I don’t know. He said something about going to help you with the drinks or something.”

“Well, I never saw him.”

“He’s a big boy. He’ll find his way back. Or not.” She pointed at the frat bro, signaling the end of her interest in your questions. “What do you think about him?”

Without glancing back over, you deadpanned, “I think if you let him even touch you, you should get tested in the morning.”

She rolled her eyes at you before sitting up straighter as she bit her lip and coyly waved at the frat bro, clearly dismissing you. 

You caught Alec’s eye over the top of Parker’s head and you both tried to suppress a chuckle. Parker infamously made the worst choices when it came to men and she only dug her claws in deeper when any of you tried to talk her out of them, so it was better to just let her do whatever she was going to do and help her deal with the consequences afterward.

Relaxing back in your seat, you took another long drink from your beer. It was now almost half empty and just the thought of wading back through the crowd for another one made you internally groan. Though you could probably convince Alec to go since you got the first round but that would involv–

Your internal conversation was cut off as you spotted Rhett pushing his way through the crowd towards the table. Sitting up, you smiled at him. “Oh, there you are. I thought you might have gotten trampled by the mob of people or something. Your beer’s getting war–”

“Come dance with me.”

You were taken aback as he thrust out his hand to help you up from the table. 

It was a given at this point that by the end of the night, you and Rhett would end up hammered, uninhibited, and viciously making out in the middle of the dance floor. It’s what happened every time you went to the bar: You’d both drink, you’d both dance together, you’d both get all hot and bothered, and you’d both find someone else to take you home for the night. It was a strange system but it worked. Parker once joked that you were each other’s fluffers, just getting things ready for your real targets for the night. And while you would prefer to phrase it somewhat more tastefully, she wasn’t exactly wrong. Plus, you had found that a lot of guys (and girls in Rhett’s case) loved watching you making out with someone else, rubbing your body all over theirs, just for you to go home with them instead. It seemed as if the two of you weren’t the only ones getting fluffed in this situation.

However, neither you nor Rhett ever stepped foot on the dance floor until you’d finished at least three or four beers. He was fairly shy and reserved when sober and you both were very self-conscious of your dancing before getting at least slightly buzzed. Yet you were currently only halfway through beer number one and his first beer still sat unopened on the table next to you. Rhett might have pre-gamed on his own before you, Tara, and Spencer picked him up, but he seemed completely sober so you couldn’t imagine what he was thinking. 

“I–but we–I mean…”

Rhett smiled as he leaned in close to be heard over the music. “It’s just a dance, sweetheart. It ain’t anythin’ we don’t do every week.”

“Bu-but what about our drinks?”

“I’m sure Parker—” he took one glance at your friend sitting next to you still making “do-me” eyes at the frat boy and corrected his statement “—Tara wouldn’t mind keepin’ an eye on ‘em.”

“You two go,” Tara said, smiling from where she was sitting with Spencer’s arm draped across her shoulders. “Your drinks will still be here when you get back.”

“Well…maybe,” Spencer muttered just loud enough to be heard over the music as he eyed Rhett’s untouched beer.

Tara elbowed her boyfriend with a scowl before turning back to you and gesturing for you to go. Still confused about the change in your routine, you took Rhett’s hand and let him help you to your feet. As he led you towards the dance floor, you turned your head just in time to see Tara and Spencer laughing and shaking their heads as they watched the two of you leave. Then Spencer reached for Rhett’s beer but Tara slapped his hand away. 

You knew your friends didn’t understand this weird arrangement you and Rhett had fallen into—hell, it barely made sense to you. They were all convinced as they watched you week after week that the two of you were falling in love. They never believed you’re just friends having a little drunken fun.

Not that you hadn’t ever considered Rhett as a potential love connection. The first night you met him, that was where you thought things were headed. He had finally had enough of his toxic home life back in Wyoming and was looking for a fresh start somewhere new. So when a contact from his time bull-riding who lived in town offered him a job, he jumped at the opportunity. 

You met him a few days later in this very bar when you saw him sitting all alone in the back corner. Of course, you noticed his classic-cowboy good looks, but what really caught your eye was how nervous and shy he seemed, his eyes mostly trained on the beer in front of him except when they occasionally shifted around the bar uncertainly. It wasn’t as if he were scared of someone seeing him or that he was on the run from something. No. He looked like a kid on his first day of school who wasn’t sure of where to sit at lunch.

So, you had gone and sat down at his table with two beers and a friendly smile. It took quite a bit of patience and coaxing, but Rhett eventually began to open up to you. Then, just as you were going to make the move to his side of the booth, your friends found you and asked for an introduction. By the end of the night, Rhett had slipped naturally into the gang and it felt weird pursuing him in any romantic way after that. After all, you could see how much he needed a support system in this new town and you didn’t want to take that from him for a one-night fling. 

Which was why when you found yourselves sloppily making out in the middle of the dance floor a few weeks later and he just brushed it off like it was nothing, you didn’t push it or question it. And when it happened again, and again, and again, it just felt like a routine or a tradition and you never looked deeper into it.

But now Rhett had suddenly changed things up and you still had no idea why.

Once you reached the dance floor, Rhett pulled you in close and the two of you began to dance. There were so many people around you that you couldn’t move more than a few inches in any direction, but since you usually just rubbed against each other while making out, it shouldn’t have been an issue. However, without the usual buzz from the drinks, you were way too in your head about every move you made. Your usual fluid, natural movements felt stiff and robotic, and all you could think about was where Rhett’s hands were or what part of him was pressed against you at any given time. It was a disaster.

The song ended and a soft, melodic tune began to play. Slow songs were pretty rare but they were always the perfect opportunity for another drink, and boy did you need one. You turned to brave the crowd around the bar once more, however, Rhett’s fingers slipped into yours and he spun you back into his arms.

A half grin pulled at the corner of his mouth as he saw your surprised face and he asked, “You rushin’ off already? We just got out here.” 

“In case I’m the only one who has noticed, I’m not really feeling this right now. And besides, we don’t do slow dances.”

“Tonight we do.” He must have seen the hesitation still on your face because he squeezed your hand. “Come on. You can tough it out for one song, then they’ll play somethin’ fast we can move to and you’ll get into the flow of it. Otherwise, you’ll just be waitin’ in that line for the rest of the night.”

Even pressed against him and over the softer melody of the slow music, the deep timbre of his voice was still difficult to hear but you knew he was right. By the time you made it through the crowd of people to reach the bar for another drink, many upbeat songs would have passed and there was a good chance you’d be ticked off by your waiting experience just like the first time. Instead, you could just stick it out here with Rhett and you’d be back to your usual dancing in mere minutes. And he was probably right. Given a few more songs, you’d probably figure out this sober dancing thing and actually enjoy yourself. So, somewhat reluctantly, you nodded to signal you’d stay.

Apparently, many of the people around you had the same thought you originally did because the crowds around you began to thin out giving you and Rhett a little more room to maneuver. The two of you were swaying together slowly and you have to admit it’s a nice change from your usual high-energy grinding. 

Then as the music began to swell, he surprised you by spinning you out and when you twirled back into him, Rhett placed his hand on the center of your back and pulled you tight until you were pressed firmly against his chest. You looked up–unsure of what he was doing–just as his other hand brushed across your cheek to settle on the nape of your neck. One of the colored lights flashed across his face, illuminating the intensity deep within his eyes as he stared at you, and you felt your heart skip a beat as time seemed to freeze around you. 

But that was silly. This was Rhett. You shouldn’t feel this fluttering in your chest or tingling where his skin brushed yours. He was your good friend, someone you had made out with every week and barely gave it a second thought. So why was there this different feel about him tonight? Why couldn't you take your eyes off his lips, why was your head spinning, and why were your knees growing weak? And why didn’t you want it to stop?

Then, using the hand on the back of your neck to tilt your head, Rhett’s lips were suddenly on yours.

Electricity shot right through you as every nerve in your body seemed to light up at once. It felt like you had just jammed a fork into an electrical socket but in the best of ways. This was unlike any kiss you had ever shared with Rhett—with anyone—before. Usually, your kisses with Rhett were drunken, and sloppy, and uncoordinated. But this…Rhett was as sober as you ever see him, and every curl of his lips, every swipe of his tongue, it all felt so fluid, almost choreographed. As if he had planned for this moment for ages. 

Your eyes drifted closed as you let yourself sink deeper into his embrace. You could no longer tell if you were standing still or spinning around and around and around as a dizzying fog enveloped your mind. For a few seconds, you didn’t even know where you were at. All that existed was you and Rhett and the kiss. 

But then you shifted, the top of your head bumping into the brim of his hat almost knocking it off, and the spell was broken. Rhett pulled away, fixing his hat, and leaving you clinging to him for support as the world came rushing back to you. The slow song was still playing and crowds of people around you still occasionally bumped into you as they danced, And yet, from the moment Rhett’s lips touched yours, everything had changed.

But had he felt it too?

With your face still just a few inches away from his, you chuckled softly. “You know, you really shouldn’t kiss me like this.”

“An’ why’s that?” 

“You might give a girl the wrong impression. Make her start thinking lots of crazy things.”

For a moment, he didn’t respond. He just gave you that same intense stare he had just before the kiss and you felt your heart begin to speed up once more. Then, in a voice you could only just make out over the music, he asked, “What if that’s the point? What if I’m tired of waitin’ for her to figure out how I feel?”

All the air was sucked out of your lungs as his revelation drove into your chest like a fist. “Rhett…”

“No…No…” Before you could process what he was saying, he shook his head and stepped back, letting his hands fall to his sides as he released his hold on you. “’m sorry. I shouldn’t—I’m doin’ this all wrong. But I couldn’t take another week of you wrapped in my arms, your lips on mine, just to then watch you go home with someone else. I just…I just wanted you to know. ‘m sorry.”

He started to hurry off the dance floor but this time it was your turn to grab his arm to stop him from leaving. His eyes flickered up to yours and you saw that all the confidence and certainty that had been there before had been extinguished, leaving only fear behind. You knew it was the same fear you were feeling right now: fear of this changing everything; fear of this ruining your friendship; fear of what came next. 

Sliding your hand into his and linking your fingers, you muttered, “Come here” before leading him off the dance floor and back towards the rear of the building. There was a separate concert area back there that they only opened for shows so you knew it was one of the few places in the bar that would give you some semblance of privacy.

Once there, you ducked into the empty space and shut the door. You could still feel the vibrations from the music and hear the dull thumping, but it wasn’t as overwhelming as it had been before. In here, at least you and Rhett wouldn’t need to shout to be heard. 

Now that you were alone, neither one of you seemed to know what to say or how to start. You both shifted slightly as you glanced at each other. Finally, Rhett rubbed the back of his neck and said, “Listen, can we just forget any of that happened? I don’t want things to be weird between us and ‘m sorry if—”

“No, I’m sorry,” you said, cutting him off. “I was just a little surprised by that kiss and what I said didn’t come out right. But what I should have said, what I meant to say—” you stepped forward until you were brushing up against him, placing your hands on his chest. “—was ‘you shouldn’t kiss me like this…unless you mean it like that’.”

Rhett’s long eyelashes fluttered several times in quick succession and you saw his Adam’s apple bob wildly out of the corner of your eye. Licking his lips, he hesitated for another moment then asked, “And if I do? If I–If I mean it like that?”

Leaning forward, you whispered, “If you do, then, baby, kiss me again.”

The moment that his lips touched yours, the world once again fell away. If anything, now that you were returning his kiss with the same tenderness and enthusiasm, it was even more intoxicating than the kiss on the dance floor and you never wanted it to end.

Both of Rhett’s large, calloused hands slid up to cup your face, his thumb softly rubbing back and forth across your cheekbone. He used this leverage to drive you back a few steps and you soon felt your back bump against the wall. He pressed closer, sandwiching you between the cold, rough concrete and his warm, firm body. Another spark of electricity shot through you and you wondered if he felt it too as you felt the growing bulge in his pants jerk against your hip. 

Through the haze of the kiss, you briefly considered how far you should let this go. A small part of you wanted to undo his belt right this second and drop to your knees before him, or to slide down your jeans and let him pound into you against this wall. After all, the two of you were still alone and no one would see you. However, the bigger part of you knew no matter how amazing you felt at this moment, this was all very new and you shouldn’t rush things. You and Rhett still needed to figure out what this meant for the two of you moving forward, and adding sex right now would just make things even more complicated.

Rhett must have come to the same conclusion because he shifted his hips so they were no longer pressed against you. Then he reluctantly pulled his lips off of yours. His hands slid off your face onto the wall behind you, one braced on either side of your head as both of you stared at one another panting as you tried to catch your breath. All you could do was look at Rhett’s lips and imagine them pressed against yours once more. And from how he stared at you, a hunger pulsing in his blue eyes, you felt he was thinking the same thing. 

“Why didn’t you do that sooner?” you whispered.

“I wanted to since that first night we met. When I saw how kind, and funny, and incredible you were, I was smitten. But then the rest of the gang showed up and for the first time in a long time, I felt accepted. I was afraid makin’ a move on you would ruin all a that and I figured havin’ you as a friend was better than not havin’ you in my life at all. For a while, I settled for our dances and kisses, but I finally realized I didn’t want to be just your friend anymore. So, I took a chance.”

“I’m glad you did because I felt the same way.”

Rhett grinned. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You leaned forward and pressed a kiss into his cheek. “Thank you for being the brave one.”

Rhett’s cheeks grew red in the dim light but he nodded as he let his hands fall from the wall behind you. Standing up straight, he glanced over his shoulder. “Um, I guess we should probably get back before we get in trouble for bein’ back here.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Besides, I wouldn’t be surprised if Tara’s sent Spencer out to find us yet.” You pushed off the wall, but as Rhett started to open the door, you stopped him. “Rhett…what happens now? Where do we go from here?”

He thought for a moment before a sly grin spread across his face. Walking up to you, he plucked his cowboy hat off his head and placed it on top of yours, pulling the brim down low over your brow.

Since the night you met him, you had never seen Rhett let a single person wear his hat, let alone touch it. So for him to give it to you, even temporarily…

You squeezed his hand tightly as you gazed into his eyes, loving what you saw reflected there. “How do I look?”

“Damn, sweetheart, looks like it was made for you,” Rhett’s voice was thicker than normal as he stared at you. “I shouldda given it to you the night we met, as soon as you sat down at my table with that smile and a beer.”

Now it was your turn to feel the blood rushing to your cheeks. Glancing shyly at the floor, you asked, “I love it, but I’m not really sure how this answers my question about us?”

“What do you know about Cowboy Law?”

Taglist: @luckyladycreator2, @nik2blog, @dumb-fawkin-bitch

#sfw repost #fic #leahsgalentinesdayspecial #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott outer range #outer range #lewis pullman #fluff #love confessions #kissing #language tw #drinking tw #drunk behavior tw

[rfxiii]

Relationship Headcanons for Various GTA V Characters:

(Feat. Michael De Santa, Trevor Philips, Franklin Clinton, Lamar Davis, Brad Snider, Wade Hebert, Steve Haines, Dave Norton, Jimmy De Santa, Tracey De Santa, Chef, Ron Jakowski, Lester Crest, and Amanda De Santa)

*TW: Drug Mention & Smut

[3744 words]

Michael De Santa:

A lot of quiet time. He likes sitting outside under the sun, watching old movies, and sitting out by the dock with his boat. He doesn’t like a ton of excitement (he’s had enough in his life)

Will take you out for cinema dates, fancy restaurants where you had to get reservations a month in advance, or to quieter bars where you can drink and he can show you how to play pool while talking about his favorite films.

He can be closed off; lack of communication and lack of honesty will be the main root of most of your arguments. He doesn’t apologize for nearly any fight you have either.

Sex with Michael is most often deep, slower, and very rough. He loves being in control- dominating and bossing you around before he gives you praise.

He’s not a big fan of cuddling or too much touching while you’re laying in bed together. But he will hold you from behind for a bit before rolling away with his back to you.

Trevor Philips:

He’s manic, disgusting, psychotic, and totally unhinged. But he’s hot, he can be sweet, and he’s one of the loyalist men you’ll ever meet if you get him to fall for you.

He wants to bring you everywhere- to the meth lab, to the bars with him, to kill rival meth dealers and bikers. He wants the two of you glued at the hip. He has massive separation anxiety and abandonment issues, so having you in his line of sight at most times gives him a lot of relief.

You have to have a strong set of nerves for him, and remind yourself every day why you love him. He’s a mess. You’re going to find him strung out, sobbing, in his underwear, or covered in gore, tracking blood and brain matter across the floor. Everyday it’s something new with him and he’s always going to keep you on your toes.

You’re having sex, or he’s begging for sex at least ten times a day. He’ll pull over his truck to fuck you on the roadside, he’s fucking you on a table in the lab, he’s fucking you in Michael’s dining room if he thinks he can get away with it.

He is a sweetheart too though. He’ll get dressed up in a tacky, cheap suit to take you out to a local diner, he’ll buy all your drinks at the dingy bars he takes you to, and he’s always coming home with odd, but thoughtful in his own way, gifts to give you. He loves you and even if he shows affection in strange ways, he wants to make sure you know it.

Franklin Clinton:

He’s such a sweetheart. He’s taking you out to dinner, to the movies, to watch football/basketball games (and he’s splurging for the really good seats), he’ll even take you out shopping at the good shops out on Rockford once he starts making a lot of money with Michael. He’s going to spoil you.

He doesn’t want to scare you off, so he keeps most of the details of what he does private. He’ll be upfront with you and let you know he is a professional thief- but past that, he’s going to spare you the gory details of what he does on his scores.

He’s going to casually bring you up in conversation every time he and Lamar talk. He’s proud of you, and he’s used to Lamar heckling him most of their lives about being single, so now he’s fully prepared to rub it in his face. You’re perfect for him, and he wants everyone to know it.

He’s slow and sensual in bed. He’s going to make you feel like royalty. He’s going above and beyond to spoil you in every area of your relationship, and this is no different. You’re going to feel like you’re in a scene from a romance movie.

He can be a bit in his head. He gets tunnel vision when things go bad, and while he is very intelligent and level headed, he can have a hard time getting out of his own head and seeing everyone else’s point of view.

Lamar Davis:

He’s goofy, he’s scatterbrained, he has very little common sense, and he’s probably the funniest guy you’ll ever meet. He’s going to make you worry about him every day you or Franklin aren’t there to supervise him. But he’s so damn silly and sweet that it almost makes you forgive his reckless behavior.

You and Franklin are going to become best friends. Lamar gets huffy and complains about you and Frank ganging up on him, but really, Franklin is the only other person who understands what you have to go through with worrying about his dumbass best friend.

He’s constantly going to brag about his various illegal endeavors. Usually it’s small-time drug deals or robbing houses/liquor stores/gas stations. But other times, he’ll get in over his head in a big job, need rescuing, and then brag about how well he handled it despite you knowing the truth. He’s the number one cause of your stress.

Lamar is fast, rough, and all over the place in bed. He’s constantly changing positions, his pace so fast the bed creaks like it’s going to break, and his mouth running the whole time about how good you feel, how much he can tell you like it when he fucks you, and, honestly, giving himself compliments as he does so.

In public he’s going to be the tough guy who’ll just keep an arm at your waist to prove you’re his. But in private he’s laying on the couch with his head in your lap, he’s being the little spoon in bed, and he’s all but sitting in your lap or clinging to your waist wherever you’re within the house.

Brad Snider:

You’re his common sense that keeps him out of fights or out of prison. He can handle himself just fine, but if you’re not into him getting into a full on brawl just because some guy bumped into you at the bar and didn’t apologize, you’re going to have to reign him in.

He’s got a smart mouth, no verbal filter, and he simply oozes sarcasm. He’d do well not to be mean to you- in fact, he’s almost overwhelmingly sweet when you’re in a committed relationship. But, when you fight, you’d better have thick skin because the things that slip out of his mouth when he’s angry are downright cruel. He will come crawling back, apologizing profusely, with flowers or expensive (stolen, most likely) jewelry to make up for it after though.

He’s extremely touchy and cuddly. Would rather have you sitting on his lap than in a chair, he’ll carry you down the road just because he can, he’s clinging onto you with an iron grip while he sleeps. You’re his, and he’s not ever going to let you get too far.

Picks you up and presses you against the wall, with your legs around his waist or in bed/on the couch with you straddling his lap while you ride him. He likes seeing your face and being able to touch all over you while he fucks you.

Not above getting your name tattooed somewhere, or buying you both matching jewelry. He’s super possessive and wants everyone to know you belong to him and vice versa.

Wade Hebert:

Baby! Treat him right, please, he deserves it. He’s honestly so sweet. The biggest source of any arguments or disagreements is definitely going to be Trevor and the danger he gets Wade into. Wade is loyal to Trevor, and you’ll have to respect that, despite how nervous it may make you.

Ice cream dates, going for walks, listening to music, and sitting together making playlists for each other out of your favorite music. Being with him is incredibly chill (when Trevor isn’t around).

Could spend hours talking about you to Chef and Ron. He used to be that way with Trevor, but he got fed up and eventually smacked Wade for it. Regardless, he’s so proud to be with you! Not many people he knows treat him with a lot of respect. So to get to come home to you, where you hold him, and love him, and treat him like you care is like a dream to him.

He’s clumsy and unsure in bed. He knows what he’s doing, but he still gets so scared of messing up or doing something you’re not into, that he approaches the whole ordeal cautiously and almost like he’s nervous about it. But once you break him out of his shell, and get him comfortable, everything he does is for you.

He would want matching tattoos, matching piercings, or even to give you matching juggalo face paint to go out in. He’d take one of the decorative rings from his dreads and make it into some kind of necklace for you too.

Steve Haines:

He’s a lot. He’s full of himself, he has a short temper, and he’s a tv star that does get considerable attention when you go out. He eats up any attention he gets, and he wants to flaunt you every place he goes. You’re practically a pseudo celebrity when you’re out with him. Though, he does want to keep you far, far away from his FIB work.

He’s an absolute monster at work. But with you, you’d never know. He’s the sweetest man on the planet when he comes home to you. He’ll do anything in his power to make you happy, he goes out of his way not to argue with you, and he waits on your every request when you’re at home.

He’s a huge baby. Wants to be held, wants to curl up in your lap when he’s had a bad day, he’ll even want to take a bath together. He loves when you massage his shoulders, scratch his back, pet his hair, and tell him how much you love and need him. He’s very self assured, but he thinks you’re so good he’s always afraid you’ll leave him.

Sweet, gentle sex where he takes care of your every need and treats you like absolute royalty with every touch. Or, on other days, he’s going to totally dominate you- leaving you in tears begging for release before he finally gives it to you with rough, punishing thrusts and growled, backhanded praise. And finally, days where he needs you to take control and totally blow his back out- pin him down, tie him up, slide on the strap if you need it, and absolutely dick him down until he cries in relief.

He’s kind of a princess. He doesn’t like driving unless he has to, he’ll need your help assembling furniture because he can’t figure it out, he cannot cook (his mom cooked for him before he met you), he can’t change a tire, and he’s awful at housework. But he does try his absolute best. Sometimes it’s worth showing him how to do things the correct way, and other times it’s easier just to do it yourself and let him sit there and be cute.

Dave Norton:

Coffee dates, walks in the park together, going to little, quiet bistros or bars. He enjoys a slow pace and quiet dates. He is older, so a long, or rowdy date night just isn’t for him.

Arguments are actually incredibly rare. Not just because he doesn’t have the energy for them but because he’d rather sit down for calm communication and resolution that suits you both instead of engaging in a screaming match. He’s not just older, but he’s fairly well adjusted and mature as well- unlike some people (Mikey and T 👀), so he prefers to work things out and make decisions together peacefully.

The only real point of contention would be lack of communication about his emotional state. He’ll get frustrated or exhausted from work (chasing Steve around or making sure Michael stays out of trouble is a lot of work). But, since he tries to completely separate you from his work, he’ll come home, you’ll clearly be able to see that he’s upset, but he’ll shut down and stay tight lipped in an effort to keep you distant from the FIB.

Little to no sex drive. He’s older, he’s exhausted, and he’s always got something on his mind that's distracting him. But when he is in the mood, he’s very practical and to the point. Not a ton of stamina, but he knows he doesn’t give you this kind of intimacy frequently, so he really does focus a lot on your pleasure.

Has a dream of retiring, away from Los Santos, on some farmland or a cabin type home where the two of you can enjoy the calm and quiet instead of the hectic, busy life in San Andreas.

Jimmy De Santa:

The first date you go on, after he’s probably spent weeks practically begging you to give him a chance, is going to be obnoxious. He’s taken Michael’s credit card, he’s gotten you reservations to a stupidly nice restaurant, he’s hired a driver for an even nicer car. Then he takes you to some upscale club where you can’t even hear each other over the music. It’s clear you both aren’t enjoying it, but he’s too committed to the rich boy act he’s trying to impress you with to admit it.

Second date and any future dates are much cooler. You’ve finally got him convinced that you like him for more than just his dads money, so now you can actually have fun. You’ll go to arcades, music festivals, smaller clubs, or sit at home and yell at each other over video games. Sometimes you may even be able to convince him to go to the beach or at least out to the park.

He’s awkward, but he’s trying so hard to be sweet. He’s very open about his feelings, so most stuff will surprisingly be talked over in a mostly mature way. The main point of argument is his refusal to grow up and branch out from the safety of his room. You understand his dislike of moving out or getting a job, but you also know he can’t just mooch off Michael’s money indefinitely.

Sex? He never thought he’d get to have it with a real person. You’ll have to show him what to do and what you like the first few times. He’s nervous, he’ll talk a lot, and he’ll cover up his anxiety with stupid one liners and a cocky swagger he has no business having. He’ll chill out eventually though once he gets it down and learns what you’re into.

He’s grown up with money for more time than he didn’t. But, that being said, even if you live in a studio apartment he’d love being at your house. He more or less moves in without actually moving it. It may be far less grand than he’s used to, but his parents aren’t there fighting, Tracey isn’t yelling at him, and best of all, you’re there to cuddle with him in bed or curl up next to him while he plays video games.

Tracey De Santa:

Going out shopping for hours, going to crazy house parties, hitting up multiple clubs in one night, or finding ways to slip into C-list celebrity gatherings are dates for Tracey. She’s fighting so hard to make a name for herself in Los Santos, and she’s definitely trying her best to live the lifestyle.

Invites you over for sleepovers all the time. You’ll spend most of the day out at the pool or laying out in the sun (she yells at Michael when he tries to come outside and sit), then she’ll take control of the tv and banish her father to his room or outside instead so you two can watch Fame or Shame or the various other, trashy, reality shows she likes, then she’s going to spend all night in bed wrapped around you with her cold feet pressed to your bare legs.

She’s shockingly book smart and will practically beg you to apply to the same colleges as her so you won’t have to be too far apart. If college isn’t for you, she’ll understand. But prepare to be faced with an, at least, hour long rant about how you’d better not find someone else while she’s gone.

She’s a pillow princess. You’re doing all the work. But like, it’s worth it. She will reciprocate enough for it to be good for you too but you are one hundred percent going to have to work for it first.

Before she leaves for college she’s absolutely stealing Michael’s credit card one last time so the two of you can stay at some nice resort for a weekend and get away from her family and Los Santos for a bit to just enjoy each other's company before she’s gone.

Chef:

He’s a sweet guy- chill, smart, down for basically anything. You can take this man anywhere and he’s happy so long as you’re together.

Most of your dates will be either at the local bar or at the meth lab. Trevor keeps him crazy busy, and he doesn’t just get a ton of free time to himself. So, more often than not, you’re going to have to meet him at work and chill there with him. It’s gross, it stinks, but when he’s not super busy you guys go sit on the roof and share a few beers together.

Asks you to stay at his place a lot. Again, he’s very busy with stuff for Trevor, so he’s given you a key so you can go in and wait for him during the day until he comes home late at night and crawls into bed beside you.

Sex with Chef is always lighthearted and fun. He’s a sweet, funny guy and he likes to keep things light. And a little risky, as he’ll fuck you on the tables in the lab when Trevor is downstairs doing god knows what.

Being with him is fun, easy, and comfortable. The only thing that really gets between you is his unorthodox lifestyle, and, of course, Trevor.

Ron Jakowski:

Matching couples tinfoil hats! He’s balls to the walls paranoid as fuck. He’ll spend hours telling you about aliens, the Illuminati, clones, government surveillance drones, and listening devices installed in televisions and radios. You cannot convince him it’s not true (Trevor kinda did a number on him in this area). So all you can do is sit there and nod along while trying not to let your expression slip.

The best dates are dates out in the woods or off by the beach. No electronics and plenty of clear sky’s to spot any drones watching you. Or, even better, you can stay in his trailer with the walls and windows lined with aluminum foil to keep you safe from the radio waves. He’s honestly so serious about this. It practically consumes his every thought.

He’s almost always anxious, but if you try really hard you can talk him down enough to just talk about his day, or things he enjoys. And once he’s calm, you can get him to sit quietly enough while you tell him what you did today and tell him about things you think he'll enjoy if he’d just branch off from Trevor and Sandy Shores for a bit.

Lester Crest:

He’s so fucking sarcastic, oh my god. You have to have a good sense of humor and thick skin to stick with him, or else his dry humor, sarcastic remarks, and flat responses will really end up hurting your feelings at times.

He stays inside as much as he can. He is sick- but he’ll try his best not to let his disability totally ruin any chance of both of you having a good date. You can hang out at his place, play video games together, binge sci-fi or fantasy movies he’s into, and spend time with him telling you old stories about the trouble he used to get up to with the guys back in the day.

His house is a total wreck. But do not try to clean for him. There’s a method to his madness and if you move even one thing it could throw off the whole system. He does appreciate the offer, but please don’t make an attempt without consulting him first. If the mess bothers you that bad, he won’t mind if you clean up old water bottles or energy drink cans, make the bed, or dust though. He’ll think the attempt was sweet.

On his better days, physically, he likes to hang out with Franklin (and maybe Mikey and T) to get drunk after a successful score. And he’d always want you there- regardless of if you lived the same lifestyle as him and the others or not.

Amanda De Santa:

Couples yoga, couples Pilates, couples massages, couples everything. Everything she enjoys, she wants to bring you along to enjoy as well.

She’s super competitive though. She loves you, but she’s not afraid to smoke you in tennis either. It’s fun to have healthy competition between you, and when you’re practicing she’s going to lovingly talk shit to you about how she’s going to win.

The beach is one of her favorite places- the sun, the calmness of the waves, and getting to spend time with you, chilling under the sun while you share drinks and enjoy each other's company.

That yoga is good for a lot of things, but most especially her flexibility. She’s going to show you things you never knew could be done. She always has new positions or things for the two of you to try. So things definitely never get boring.

She is a little judgy. If you live a less than healthy or active lifestyle, she’s going to lecture you on the benefits of getting out, eating clean, and moving more. It may come off as pretentious, but it really does come from a place of love.

#gta v #gta 5 #grand theft auto v #grand theft auto 5 #gta x reader #x reader #gta headcanons

[msphattt]

the only one for me

iwaizumi x fem!reader

tags — vaginal sex, cunnilingus (barely), vaginal fingering

3744 words

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Today was the day, he was coming back. It’s all anyone had been talking about but I couldn’t understand why, he was only gone for five months, so the welcome back seemed…over the top, to me.

His arrival had no effect on me, rather, I carried on with my day as I usually would, why would I care that Iwaizumi was coming back? The last time we spoke, he made it clear that it would be the last time, so, why care?

“So…what are you saying?” I asked, “Do you not care to speak at all? What are you saying?”

It was all so confusing, the fact that Iwaizumi had just said we needed to “separate for a while,” seeing as he would be gone for five months, across the country, for a volleyball tournament.

“I just don’t want to leave with strings attached,” he explained. Bullshit. I had never said anything about a relationship, not even that we were exclusive, so I couldn’t understand where this was coming from, I at the very least, thought he and I were friends under whatever we had, but it seems I thought wrong.

The surprise of the situation was too much and my thoughts were running wild, why now? When he didn’t leave for two more weeks? I wasn’t going to make it hard for him though, after all, he wasn’t my boyfriend.

His eyes met mine and for a second, I thought I saw that he was ashamed, like he was ashamed of his reasoning, but I wasn’t thinking that deep into it, if he wanted to leave me, then that was that.

“I understand, that’s what you want, I’ll go,” I said, confusion clear in my tone but I wasn’t staying somewhere I wasn’t wanted.

I gathered my bag, my belongings and my car keys without saying a word and simply, left.

Of course, the five months weren’t the easiest but it wasn’t like Iwaizumi and I were in a relationship, we made sure to place boundaries. Though, in the end, it seemed like he had gotten under your skin, and it was difficult to deny the pull toward him.

But, that was five months ago, and I have spent the last four of those months making sure to keep my head up and keep going. The piercing heat of the sun pulled me out of my thoughts as I began to prepare my body for my morning jog around the park. Jogging was one of the things I did to keep me from overthinking, and today was as good a day as any.

I tucked my phone into my gray yoga pants and did my last few stretches, reaching up to the sky and lifting my heels off of the ground, leaning on the tips of my toes and inhaling deeply, the exhale melting some of the tension away.

I began stepping off with my right foot, moving slowly with one foot in front of the other. It was the same type of people, the early birds who would sit to gather on the grass ether studying or listening to music, the athletes who were leaving from morning practices, and others who grumbled for being up too early on a Friday.

As my music blasted in my ears, the world was gone to me. The rush of the wind flying past my ears as my legs moved to carry me where they may. I had gone my usual route, around the center of the park, through the garden and around the open field, where I often made contact with the athletes.

My legs began to grow weak, a response I was used to as I jogged through the garden, indicating that I was two-thirds of the way through my jog. Faint sounds of instruments floated through my, already extremely loud, headphones that I used to tune out the rest of the people occupying the park. Confusion covered my face until I remembered, his welcome back celebration. The athletes had taken over the field with a mass amount of themselves, it almost seemed like a parade.

I continued jogging, making sure to keep my chin up and my form tight, pushing through the last leg of my workout. I made my way around the baseball field and continued on toward the trees, where most of the athletes would gather their trucks. Still, I didn’t move, the wind continued to fly by as I felt the euphoric feeling begin to creep under my skin, the wind blowing right over my shoulders, which were now covered in sweat.

The welcome back hadn’t seemed to just be starting but was in full effect. I wish I could say, what is it about him? But I knew the answer to that question. As I made my way around the outskirts of the trees, his eyes bore into mine.

And time stopped.

He had changed so much in the months that he was away; his shoulders were broader, and his muscles were outlined perfectly, under his shirt. My breath stopped momentarily, it felt as if my I would lose my voice instantly if I was to speak to anybody in that moment.

The connection broke instantly, when I returned my eyes to my path in front of me, pushing my legs to finish my jog, and after turning the last corner of the field, I began jogging back to my apartment, only five minutes from the park.

As I finished my jog and entered my home, the euphoric feeling and coolness of my body after hitting the cool air made my head feel dizzy. My chest heaved after just jogging and I took a gulp of water to try and calm my nerves.

Four days went by, I jogged for three of those days and made the mental note that I had not seen Iwaizumi since his arrival. I shook my head, why did I care so much? I continued to say I didn’t, but my feelings knew otherwise. No matter, it was time for me to get ready for the Art Expression Gala, my favorite event of the year.

The Art Expression Gala gave a platform to anyone within the city who needed to express themselves, no matter how, and the formality of it all felt elegant.

My hair fell down my back, pulled back from my face where I focused on a sultry makeup look, which always seemed to include warmer shades of gloss, eyeshadow and even blush, going for orange rather than pink. I always liked looking seductive, it was part of my character, I liked to assume as such. I wore a black dress that ran past my ankles and left my left leg bare, the split stopping just underneath the hilt of my thigh. The straps of the dress were thin, my shoulders covered by my hair and its’ loose curls.

The honking of the horn outside my door let me know that my friends were at my apartment ready to pick me up. I grabbed my purse and phone, locking my door before entering the car where my friends were more than ready to get to the venue.

“I’m so excited for you guys to see my piece at the gala, I worked really hard on it,” my friend Ellie beamed. I responded, telling her that we couldn’t wait to see and how proud we were of her. Of all my friends, Ellie was the most passionate about her life and her love for dance, which anyone with eyes could see. “I heard the entire athletic department’s there, even Iwa,” Ellie said, a mischievous glint in her eye. I rolled mine, “Iwa and I have nothing going on, we’re not even friends,” I explained. Ellie laughed and mocked me, “oh please, ‘we’re not even friends,’ when have you ever been friends? When he was-”

“STOP,” I yelled, Ellie’s laughter only grew as much embarrassment became more and more apparent on my face. I brought my hands to my face and let out a little giggle as I remembered the memory Ellie was about to blurt out.

I giggled as he continued kissing my neck, his hands squeezing the flesh of my ass and back. “Iwa, stop,” I breathed out, my voice nearly at a whisper from the way his hands touched my body. We were currently laying on the big cushion, under the canopy by the pool, correction, by Oikawa’s pool.

My slightly damp towel covered my legs, draping under my belly button and hanging off of my waist as Iwaizumi used his hands and mouth to try and make me cave.

“Oh, c’mon baby, nobody is out here but you and me, I just wanna taste you,” he whispered, kissing my shoulders and squeezing my thighs. A shuddered breath left my lips, as I fought my inner thoughts, this man had consumed every one of my senses, how could I say no to him?

“I’ll make you feel so good, just let me taste you,” he whispered again, and my resolve completely melted away. The raw desperation in his voice was enough to have my legs spreading and head leaning back and he explored every inch of what I had to offer.

He kissed me slowly, making sure to let me know how much he appreciated my body and my back arched against the cushions as the first feel of his soft tongue met my clit, the warmth of his tongue on my sensitive clit that he had played with relentlessly. The feeling began to build, my eyes immediately closing and my hand moving through his hair in an attempt to push him further against me.

His two fingers pushed, slowly into my pussy, filling my stomach with a feeling of fullness that has me moaning softly and bucking my hips against his mouth. The feeling of my thighs being held tightly and I was spread out before his tongue that ravaged my pussy so sweetly, it all became hazy as my vision failed to focus after my eyes fluttered open.

His fingers continued to work into my pussy, hitting that place so deep as he continued to suck on the head of my clit without slowing down, the pace building the pleasure in the pit of my stomach.

As he continued to punish my pussy, sucking my clit and thrusting his fingers simultaneously, everything began to blur together as the knot in the pit of stomach began to tighten by the second. At the sound of his groan, my thighs clenched, and my toes curled as my back arched off the cushions, moaning and squeezing whatever my hands could find at the moment, the wave of pleasure washing over my body.

I was pulled out of my flashback when the car came to a stop, the jolt shaking me out of thought. The night was warm, but I still found myself with goosebumps running down my arms, I rubbed them slightly as we began to walk toward entrance of the building.

Time went on fairly quickly and it was time to watch Ellie’s performance. The soft music began as Ellie’s body began to move in the way she had trained, the soft raise of her leg and the sharp point of her feet. As entranced as I was in the performance, I felt as though somebody was staring, causing my eyes to shift around. My neck turned left, only slightly as my eyes scanned through the crowd. Turning from the left, now looking toward my right is when I saw him, staring at me, unashamed. The darkness of his eyes bore into mine, his cup lifting to his lips as he took a sip of his drink and brought it back down, all while looking at me, never taking his eyes off of me. I looked away with a quickness, making sure to turn as softly as I did before, I would act like he was nothing to me even though the burn of his gaze was making me feel exposed.

After Ellie’s performance, I decided that I needed to go into the bathroom and make sure I didn’t look as flushed as I felt. I began walking toward the back in the direction of the bathroom, my short and skinny heels clacking slightly as I fidgeted in my purse looking for my wipes and powder. My attention was on my purse as I grew agitated at not being able to find what I was looking for, that I did not see when a strong hand gripped my arm, pulling me into the men’s bathroom on the right side of the hall.

Fear took over for a second before I was face to face with the man who had been staring all night long.

“You’ve been avoiding me, you know I don’t like to be ignored,” he said. His voice instantly making my thighs rub together, I had forgotten how deep and intoxicating he could be, not to mention his cologne, and the fact that his face was only four inches away from mine.

I took in a breath, looking at this face before choosing to respond, his eyebrows knitted and lips pursed, as though he was actually upset.

“I have, we’re not friends,” I answered, making sure to pout slightly and turn my head to the left, as though I cared about our divide, I did.

Iwaizumi let out a dry chuckle, clearly not amused by my act.

“Excuse me now,” I said sweetly, as I moved to lean off the wall and move toward the restroom door, a single stall restroom that anybody could have been waiting for. Before I could move, his left arm stretched out to hit the wall, blocking me from moving where he put me against it. He touched my chin, cupping my face softly as his thumb ran across my cheek as I looked at him, fury suddenly taking over my body.

“You can’t be serious right now, are you kidding me?!” My voice was laced with anger and annoyance, frustration beginning to peak out as I continued. “You said you didn’t want strings, so there ARE no strings, move,” I spat, pushing his chest and swinging the door open before anything could escalate further. It didn’t take me long to find my friends and express that I was going to go home, suddenly feeling under the weather.

I took a cab home, sitting on the couch and listening to music after a hot shower to help bring me back down. It was hard for me to stay somewhere and act like I wasn’t upset, when I so clearly was. I couldn’t understand why I was affected as much as I was, but that being our first encounter after not speaking for so long, I let out a rush and heavy breath after thinking about it again. It was then my door rang, drawing curiosity and confusion from me.

As I opened the door, there he stood with a white dress shirt to show every ridge of his abs and muscles, his dress pants showing the muscles in his thighs. My eyes narrowed and rolled as he walked toward me, past me, and into my kitchen.

“Get out, what are you doing here? Get out.” My voice was calm now, my weight shifting to my left leg as I crossed my arms looking at him from across the island. There was no denying the effect he had on my body, his appearance making my nipples hard under my cropped cami.

He said nothing, rather than leaving, Iwaizumi set his phone and car keys on the counter behind him and began walking to me, my neck slightly pulling back at his height. He touched my face again, holding my right cheek as he now faced me and looked at me with a stoic face, yet solemn eyes. His right hand in his pocket, his left on my cheek. “I listened to what you said,” he started, “but you know there’s nobody else for me.”

My eyes met his and darted back toward the floor momentarily before meeting his gaze once again. “That’s not enough, you left me,” I whispered, my true feelings had surfaced that quick. “I know, I’m sorry baby, forgive me.” His kisses on my cheek soon traveled downward, my neck feeling the warmth and strangeness of his lips. He pulled back, looking at me before glancing at my lips and back to my eyes, “you’re the only one for me,” he whispered.

My eyes searched his for a moment, giving into what my body had been craving, “the only one?” I whispered softly, whimpering slightly at the heat that began crawling over my skin as a result of his kisses. He groaned as he whispered, “the only one,” and his lips softly touched mine.

The quickness and delicacy of the kiss made me wonder if it actually happened, but my hardened nipple and throbbing of my clit had assured me it was true. My hands traveled up his arms, gripping his biceps as I closed my eyes, the kiss consuming me. With a swiftness, Iwaizumi grabbed my thighs, lifting me onto the island in the center of the kitchen. His large hands moved across my thighs and up my stomach until reaching my chest, my back arching instantly at the feeling. He began to rub my nipples, kissing my neck as the slight pleasure only added to my arousal.

A soft moan left my lips, short breaths accompanied by the occasional moan that would slip out of from between my lips. Traitor. My body reacted truthfully while my mind still fought rationality, but the movement of his hands against my breasts reminded me of just how good he made me feel.

His fingers wrapped around my neck, my eyes glossy as they meet his. His hips rolled into me, his erection pressing against my clit as his tongue ran down my neck and over my breast. His lips wrapped around my left nipple, the pleasure immediately letting a moan through my lips. His tongue flicked and sucked my nipple, carefully pinching the right, twisting and ghosting over it ever so softly with his middle finger.

The jingle of his belt felt like music to my ears, suddenly heating my ears up as my tips of my toes touched my island, my legs bared open to him. He groaned as he freed his erection, the tip leaking of precum as he began to stroke himself. Anticipation ran through me and left as quickly as it came. He lips left my chest as his hand remained around my neck. “Look at me, baby,” he whispered, wetting my panties even further. My eyes fluttered open, licking my lips and taking a breath, I moved my eyes to meet his.

And time stopped.

My shorts were pulled down, flung somewhere neither he, nor I, cared about. My breath quickened as he lined himself against my hole, grinding against my clit slightly and working my legs even farther apart. His forehead met mine as I clutched his biceps through his thin, white dress shirt. His eyes focused on mine as he pushed in, the feeling of intrusion hitting so deep within me that I couldn’t help but to close my eyes, the pleasure immediately making me arch my back and curl my toes against his waist.

He began his thrusts slow, breathing me in and out as his hips worked against mine. Moans flew from my mouth as he gripped my thighs, removing his hand from my neck and holding my legs open so that I was spread bare in front of him.

“Fuck, I missed you baby, did you miss me?” He groaned as he continued to thrust into me, his pace keeping steady and hitting every inch within me, making my mind go blank. My moans became uncontrollable as he continued to thrust upward, hitting my spot over and over again, my fingers gripping the edge of the island and his biceps.

His pace grew relentless, pounding into my pussy over and over again causing me to throw my head back, “answer me.” Iwaizumi loved to have his way. He continued his rough pace, my head thrown back and mouth open, moans flying out as though it was the only noise I could make. His thumb found my clit, rubbing slow circles as he slammed into me, unforgiving as though he was punishing me for not responding how he wanted during out first encounter.

My defiance showed, I refused to answer him and his assault on my clit only grew, fast pace meeting rapid circles, all making my head dizzy at the pleasure coming from how deep he was hitting my spot. My moans grew louder, “too much, Iwa,” I whined, not being able to say anything else, or even remember anything else. “You can take it, tell me, did you miss me?” He was relentless.

I shook my head as the pleasure continued to build, the strain of my nipples against my cami while my back continued to arch into his chest, the bucking of my hips into his own. His hands lifted my hips, slightly, changing the feel of everything. It was sudden, Iwa was now hitting my spot over and over, sucking on my neck while continuing to groan against my skin.

My moans were loud and heavy as my grip tightened on his biceps, “oh, yes I missed you, fuck, I missed you so much, Iwa,” I moaned, but eyes closing as my stomach knotted tightly. My toes curled against the counter, my breathing quickened and my eyebrows furrowed as my hole began clenching around him.

“I missed you so much baby,” Iwa groaned as he kissed my neck, “cum for me baby, let me feel how much you missed me.” His talk into your ears did nothing to quench the fire in the pit of my stomach. The eyes squeezed even tighter as the knot in my stomach began to tighten, my back arching and my breasts feeling the warmth of his chest. My breath hitched in my chest as I came undone under his sweet nothings, his grip on my body becoming so tight as he filled me with all of him.

“I wont hurt your feelings again, I promise.” And His kiss would seal his promise to me.

#omg i love iwa #haikyu smut #haikyuu #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi smut #mention of oikawa but hes not actually in the fic #teach me how to tag lol #cross posted on ao3 #ao3 writer

[incorrect-primarchs-quotes]

To explain what a bishie/bishounen is and how it compares to femboy, with the caveat that I am not an expert by any means:

Bishounen is a Japanese term that loosely translates to "beautiful boy". The easiest way I can describe it is a male character that physically looks androgynous or feminine; it's not entirely uncommon for bishounen characters to be mistaken for women. This does not mean that they dress or act like women. "Bishie" is a shortening of the word bishounen, and is more commonly thrown about in English language fandom spaces.

The difference between bishies and femboys boils down to whether or not it's intentional. Bishies are not intentionally bishies; they just happen to look like that. Femboys can look stereotypically masculine but choose to dress and act in more feminine ways; the femininity is intentional instead of accidental.

It's a bit more clear now, thank you.

But for some reason I don't really like the term bishounen, it literally remind me too much of anime and such (probably because it's Japanese yes lmao).

Anyway, I see why femboy is the wrong term, but - following your description - even bishounen/bishie is wrong if I want to describe characters like the astartes.

(Ironic point n°3744: both me and my haters were using the wrong terms to describe canon, the only difference is that I didn't get offended by it)

Spite aside, that's it, friends. We need to create a new word to perfectly describe the Warhammer fembois astartes.

#i want something that sound powerful #strong #a-rebellious-waffle

[shiftingparadise]

hey bbyyy! i am back with another request! 🙈 i saw the feitan one, but i couldn’t read it cause you said it was spicy 😩😩 but hey it’s hunter x hunter! and i immediately wanted a killua fic from you 🥺🥺

so hear me out, it’s like canon events where they go on adventures and follow gon around as he tries to track down his horrible dad. reader took the hunter exam with the gang and befriends everyone and gains a stupid kid-crush on killua! and killua gains a crush on reader too, and it’ll be a super sweet and comedic romance cause they’re only twelve ya’know! we can expect petty fights and teasing and making fun of random strangers killua style and it’ll be so freaking cute 😆😆

Oh and if it’s possible, can you please not have the fic take place during the chimera ant arc? i’m still not through that cause i literally had to take a break because it overwhelmed me so much lmaoo 💀💀

and of course this is a no pressure request, i’ll understand if you’re not comfortable with writing a fic about someone as young as them, or if you’re not comfortable with writing this particular fic in general! anyways, have a great day luv and remember to stay healthy 💛💛

I thought this request was soooo cute lol 🥺 I really kept it as innocent and cute as possible 🥺. I'm sorry it took a while, but I struggled with writing this because I wanted to keep it interesting but innocent at the same time.

I've rewritten this story so many times by now, but I think this one's cute, so I chose this version :3 I hope you enjoy this one! I had fun writing it, so I'm happy you requested this 😇✨

Word count: 3744

‘Here you go’, you smiled at the white-haired boy, ‘You need this, right?’.

You tilted your head, confused by his distrust. You’d spend forever looking for this badge, he could at least take it without being so defiant about it. 

‘No’. 

‘H-hey! I know you need this!’, you placed both your hands next to your body in discontent. 

‘I’ve already collected enough badges, don’t need that one’, the white-haired boy had his hands stuffed away in his pockets, a disinterested gaze met yours.

‘B-but I-‘. ‘Don’t care’, the boy closed his eyes, now turning his back to you. 

You didn’t want to cry, to show you were weak, but you went through so much trouble for nothing. 

‘Huh?’, Killua frowned when he could hear some cute, sniffling sounds from behind him. ‘I-I just w-want a friend’, you wiped your tears away with the sleeve of your pink sweater. 

‘H-hey, are you crying?! Stop crying!’. ‘J-just l-leave me alone!’, you quickly turned around, running as fast as you could from the white-haired boy. 

‘Tch, idiot’, Killua gritted through his teeth before walking the other way, ‘Who takes a hunter exam to make friends’. 

Killua stopped walking when he considered his own words. Images of Gon forced themselves into his head. 

‘Idiot, idiot, idiot!’, Killua felt frustrated. Why did you have to say something like that? Why did you have to remind him of himself? He knows better than anyone what it’s like to long for a friend, and since you went to all this trouble… Even participating in the hunter exam… ‘Fine!’, Killua turned back around, ‘I can hear her sob from here, it’s not like I would waste much time’. 

It didn’t take long for Killua to find you. You were sitting on the ground, head resting against the trunk of a tree. 

‘Go away’, you sniffled into your sleeve, eyes overflowing with tears. ‘Here, you dropped this’, Killua tossed the badge towards you. 

You reluctantly caught it, a sulking expression now on your face. 

‘How many badges do you have?’. 

You frowned, confused by his question. What did it matter? It was obvious he didn’t want to be friends with you. 

‘Take as many as you want’, you tossed your bag towards the boy. 

‘W-what?’, Killua’s eyes widened when he could see you'd collected over 10 badges, ‘How did you get these?’. ‘Stole them’, you slowly stood up from the ground, wondering what his intentions were. 

‘How?’. 

‘W-what do you mean ‘how’?! You don’t think I’m capable of doing so?’, you raised your voice. He underestimated you, so much was clear. ‘Hm’, Killua raised his shoulders, both of his hands still in his pockets, ‘Let’s make a deal’. 

Killua couldn’t help but be intrigued by you. There weren’t many kids his age that were as strong as him, but you and Gon might be the exceptions. 

‘A deal?’, you crossed your arms, eyes fixed on the bag that was laying between the two of you. ‘If you can get your bag back, I’ll be your friend’. ‘R-really?’, you intertwined your hands, ‘S-so it’ll be like a game?’. ‘Guess so’, Killua smiled, closing his eyes. ‘Deal!’, you smirked, focusing your eyes on your bag. ‘Okay, see you’, the white-haired boy smirked before he picked up the bag and disappeared into the distance. 

---

You sighed, dragging your feet while walking down the crowded streets, ‘Eh, I’m tired’. ‘Just a little bit further. Leorio’s waiting for us in that restaurant’, Gon smiled at you. ‘Good, I’m starving’. ‘I told you to eat some breakfast!’, Killua smacked against the back of your head, ‘Idiot!’. ‘Hey, you’re an idiot!’, you pouted while rubbing over the spot where he’d hit you. 

‘Let’s try to be kind to each other, okay?’, Gon nervously meddled, ‘You can order something, I’m also hungry. ‘That’s because you haven't had any breakfast either! You’re both idiots’, Killua scoffed while grabbing both of your heads, ‘Now we’re going to waste time because you two didn’t listen to me!’. 

You let out a guilty giggle, Gon quickly following your lead. The two of you knew Killua was right, he always was. It was a trait you both came to love and hate at the same time. 

‘We need to get money to buy Greed Island, we can’t waste time like this’, Killua let go of your heads, ‘I hope Leorio has figured something out. I don’t like the idea of hunting down Spiders’. 

--- 

‘If he calls, run. If he calls, run. If he-‘. 

‘You told me you two were the only ones? I’m starting to feel like I’m running a daycare, damn brats’. 

Adrenaline immediately rushed through your veins when you could hear the dissatisfied grunts of your friends.

You quickly jumped away from the window, now looking at the unfamiliar face. ‘Who are you?’. 

‘Phinks’. 

‘Y/N run’, Killua never sounded so serious before. All the playfulness, all the mockery, the sarcasm… There wasn’t any trace left of it in his tone. 

‘Don’t’, the tall man tightened his grip around their arms, ‘I’ll kill them if you try’. ‘What do you want?’, your eyes were lingering on the burn marks around Killua’s ankles.

You wanted nothing more than to shove the man’s face into the concrete wall next to you, but the fact that he’s managed to catch both of your friends told you everything you needed to about his strength – he could easily kill you if he wanted to. 

‘Do you know the chain user?’. ‘Chain user?’, you frowned at the unfamiliar name, ‘Maybe… Maybe not. What’s it to you?’. 

‘Idiot!’, Killua broke free from the man’s grip, tearing his shirt in the process. 

You noticed the way that the man’s eyes widen, he obviously didn’t expect Killua to be so strong. 

‘Why would you lie? You know we’re dealing with one of the spiders, right? I told you to run when I say so! What’s wrong with you? Do you want to get yourself killed?’. ‘I was trying to get us out of here! Why do you need to be like this? I’m strong too, you know?’. 

Phinks frowned, trying to grasp what was happening before him. Was it arrogance? Were you two mocking him? Were you trying to distract him? He swiftly looked at the boy he was still holding onto, maybe his expression gave something away. 

‘We’re friends, don’t worry’, Gon smiled while looking at the blonde, ‘They’re always like this’.

‘Enough’, Phinks grabbed Killua’s arm again. ‘Hey, Mr. Sweatpants, I was talking to him!’. 

You froze when you could sense another unfamiliar presence behind you, his aura just as horrible as the man standing before you. 

‘What’s taking so long? Can’t handle a couple of kids? Pakunoda and Machi are already waiting in the car’. ‘I’ve only got two hands Nobunaga’, Phinks smirked, ‘You can take the little girl. Watch out, she’s got an attitude’. 

---

‘Don’t worry your little girlfriend will be fine’, Phinks sighed while sitting down on a stone, ‘Machi and Pakunoda were in the car behind us, they’ll be here soon’. ‘G-girlfriend?’, Killua raised his voice, cheeks red, ‘S-she’s not my-‘. ‘Oh?’, Gon looked with big eyes at his friend, ‘I really thought you liked her’. ‘Why would you think that? You’re as big as an idiot as her!’, Killua pressed his nose against Gon’s, his digit pressed against his head. 

‘Then why are you blushing?’. 

Phinks couldn’t help but let out a small smile at how innocent Gon sounded in contrast to his friend. He tried to grasp how they could be so skilled that they’d managed to track his fellow spiders without them noticing. 

‘Get off me! I can walk myself!’. 

‘There’s your little ray of sunshine’, the blonde massaged his forehead when he could hear your voice again, ‘She never shuts her mouth, does she?’. ‘You get used to it’, Killua and Gon both simultaneously replied. 

‘I know you have the same IQ as Gon, but please don’t say anything about Hisoka’, Killua looked at you, hoping you would be smart enough to pretend you never saw him before. 

‘This one doesn’t know anything about the chain user either’. 

You scanned the room, trying to count how many people were in it. 

‘Huh?’, you smiled when you saw the magician, ‘Hisoka? Is that you?’. 

‘Idiot’, you could hear Killua’s voice in the back of your head.

‘And you are?’, Hisoka smirked while playing with his cards.

All eyes were on the two of you. Everyone seemed to be interested in your relationship with their fellow troupe member. 

‘I took the Hunter exam with you’, you smiled, ‘I wanted to be your friend, remember? Brought you the badge you needed’. ‘Ah yes, I remember. You two were there too’, Hisoka pointed at Gon and Killua. 

---

‘Again’. 

You could see how Gon’s hand started to bleed, little drops of blood falling onto the cold stones underneath him. 

‘K-killua?’.  

The only thing you could see in his eyes was anger. 

‘Killua? I’m scared’. 

A symphony of fear and sadness flooded your eyes. You didn’t want to feel like this, but neither one of you was strong enough to fight off one of the spiders, let alone the bunch of them. 

‘Huh?’. Your soft sobs seemed to pull him out of his trance. Two blue eyes were now staring into yours, ‘Gon’s fine, don’t worry’.

‘A-ai, don’t worry Y/N, it doesn’t hurt’, Gon forced a smile on his face, a determined look in his eyes. 

‘But-‘, ‘Too much noise, need quiet’. 

You froze when you felt someone pulling your arm behind your back, nearly breaking it. 

‘Shut up or I’ll break it’. 

‘Try and I’ll kill you’. 

Killua’s aura completely changed. His usually bright blue eyes went dark, a villainous grin on his face. 

‘Sorry, can’t let that happen’. Two of Hisoka’s long fingers pressed a card against Killua’s neck, keeping him in his place. 

‘Fei stop’. The man they called ‘Nobunaga’ sounded calm, as if it was normal to threaten a child. 

‘Scared, huh?’, Killua’s soft voice grounded you, ‘I always knew you were a scaredy-cat’. 

You knew this was his way of distracting you from what was happening around you, from the pain in your arm. You knew he must be on edge too, with Hisoka threatening him… even so, he wanted you to feel okay, to stay strong. 

‘Tch’, the man behind you – reluctantly – let go of you, pushing you away from him. 

‘Y-Y/N?’, Killua genuinely felt overwhelmed when he felt your hands grabbing around his arm, your head pressed against his shoulder, ‘You know Hisoka’s standing behind me, right?’. 

Ah, there it was again, Killua’s grumpy voice. A sound you grew to adore over the last few months. 

‘Hm, so sweet and innocent’, Hisoka smirked, pulling his card away when he saw Killua’s burning cheeks. 

---

‘Killua? Gon?’, you softly knocked on the door of your friends' hotel room. ‘What’s wrong?’, Gon opened the door, a startled look in his eyes. ‘I-I can’t sleep, I-I’m scared and Leorio won’t answer his door… I think he’s having a party with Zepile’. 

‘Idiot’. You could see Killua sitting on the ground, a smug look on his face. ‘You always sleep in a room together! It’s not fair!’. ‘No need to fight’, Gon once again tried to meddle, ‘You can stay here’. ‘Let’s watch a movie!’, you smiled, immediately jumping on the big bed. 

It didn’t take long for the three of you to be sitting next to each other on the bed. Gon and Killua smiling next to you, eyes flickering with joy. 

‘Oh Killua, I want to be able to fight like that!’, ‘We already do, idiot’.

‘Hm’, you smacked your lips together after yawning, ‘So tired’. 

You didn’t notice the way your head fall onto Killua’s shoulder; you were too tired to wake up from his scoldings. 

‘Oh’, Gon gently tapped on your shoulder, ‘Seems like she’s asleep’. ‘Get her off me! I can’t sleep like this’, Killua looked the other way, hoping Gon wouldn’t notice his cherry-red cheeks. ‘Are you okay? Do you have a fever?’, Gon widened his eyes when he noticed Killua’s red cheeks. ‘W-what? No, I’m fine’, Killua turned his head further away, ‘Let’s just go to sleep, it’s not like we’ll be able to wake her up. You know how she gets once she’s sleeping’. 

---

‘Hey Killua!’, you tried to catch up once you noticed your friends were already walking ahead, ‘I’m hungry’. 

‘Again?! We’ve just entered the game!’, ‘I’m hungry too’, Gon nervously chuckled. ‘Fine! Why’d I even expect to start playing right away when I’ve got you two idiots with me’. 

‘Let’s go there!’, you pulled Gon behind you, ‘Seems cozy’. 

---

‘I’m scared, it’s so dark’, you whispered, hoping your eyes would still adjust some more to the darkness of the night. ‘It’s fine, we’re here’, Gon’s kind voice made sure you felt more at ease. 

‘Eeee!’, you jumped into the air, quickly hiding behind Killua, ‘I-I felt something!’. Your hand grabbed Killua’s, the other wrapped around his arm. ‘H-hey!’, he turned his head to look at you. 

His eyes softened when he could see the way your cute little nose was pressed against his arm, your eyes closed in fear. He felt a sudden warm and fuzzy feeling when he realized you felt safe with him, that you ran towards him to protect you. 

‘D-don’t worry, I’ll protect you’. 

‘H-huh?’, your eyes widened when you could feel Killua’s hand tightening around yours. ‘Don’t worry Y/N. I’ll keep you safe’. You blushed when you could see him smiling at you, ‘T-thanks Killua’. 

You knew your voice must sound fragile, since you felt too embarrassed to talk properly. 

‘Ai! I’ll protect you too!’, Gon appeared next to Killua, his smile as bright as ever, ‘We’re your friends, we’ll always be there for you, no matter what’. 

#killua x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #killua zaoldyek #hxh #hxh spoilers #killua x y/n #killua x you #killua zoldyck #killua zoldyck x reader #hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter x reader #hunter x hunter x y/n #hunter x hunter x you #hunter x hunter fanfic

[testingthewatersss]

Come to bed Trigger warnings for PTSD, mentions of war, torture, winter solider stuff etc. Bucky Barnes x F Reader Chapter 2/3 3744 words Angst, more angst, comfort. 18+ MDNI  Sometimes you go months without this happening, and sometimes it's too cold.

Bucky nods, he’s anxious and he’s grasping at her waist with both of his hands, and although he hadn’t ask for it, the affirmation that she’s staying with him, is more than welcome.

Minutes go by silently, the drift into hours in the undisturbed dark, before Y/N stirs again, being brought out of her gentle slumber by the subtlest shaking against her body.

The sensation is strange and she finds herself squinting in the blackness of their room, eyes flicking down to where Bucky is curled up against her front.

“Sweetheart” she coos, realising the vibrations that had woken her had been coming from him, “I thought you were sleepin’”

“I’m sorry” the man is quick to say, “shit, I'm sorry, doll”

“No” the woman whispers softly, voice melting against his brow “you haven’t done anythin’ wrong”

His brow furrows. He has done things wrong. He’s done so many things wrong, but before he can argue, she’s speaking again, familiar voice soothing the raw, exposed edges of his soul.

“You’re okay” she tells him, “I’ve got you, you’re alright now”

It doesn’t take her long to realise he’s crying. It’s silent, and he’s clearly trying to suppress the way he’s sobbing, but Y/N knows that tears are pooling on her chest. She knows he’s hurting.

“I-” he murmurs, “-I-don't want to, please”

Y/N feels her head tilt, she draws him in, impossibly closer to her front, and tries to calm him as he whines.

“god” she hears him murmur, “I-I don't want to-”

“Don't want to what?”

“To cry” Bucky tells her, “I can’t, I- I don't even know why-”

As his voice chokes off, Y/N feels her chest aching, she feels her heart strings breaking as she nods, understanding.

“It's okay” she swears, arms looping protectively around his shoulders, "You're alright...”

He doesn’t reply. He can’t formulate any response that isn’t weeping. His chest is heaving, his lower lip trembelling as he surrenders to the overwhelming urge to let go.

“Sweetheart” Y/N murmurs again, even though she’s not certain he can hear her, in his current state of anguish, “What’s the matter? What’s got’ya so upset?”

Bucky doesn’t really know what had triggered his quick emotional flood, but he does know that he’s scared, that his throat is raw, and even though he’s holding onto her waist with both hands, her voice seems awfully far away.

He hopes he hasn’t disappointed her somehow, either by his lack of control or lack of response.

“I’m here, Buck” she soothes, rubbing his back in soft circles as he continues to pine against her, “Nothin' bad's coming, don’t worry ‘bout that”

His nails are digging into her skin. He’s desperate to keep her with him, to not get dragged away by his hair, or abandoned some how.

Y/N barely feels them, choosing instead to spend her time murmuring sweet assurances into his hair.

Metal fingers flex in place- Despite the way he’s gripping her, that palm is gentle, it’s flush against her body, not exuding any force at all.

She hears him whining, a high pitched, needy sound escaping his lips along side his sobs and can’t help but run her own hand down, to hold his vibranium one.

“‘m sorry” he chokes, accepting the contact gratefully, lacing his fingers with hers, “-m-‘m s-so-sorry-Doll”

Her heart cracks. His skin is flush and damp with sweat, and he’s shaking anxiously with every rasping breath he’s managing to capture.

“Oh, Baby, No” Y/N makes herself hush him, “You don’t need to say sorry, everything’s okay”

Bucky feels his head shake, he wishes that her fingers where still in his hair. He’d give anything to feel the grounding tug of them against the motion.

He grits his teeth and whimpers.

“You’re exhausted” she notes, smoothing down the back of his ribs with the hand he’s not still clutching, “Sweetheart, I won’t leave ya’ alone again, not whilst it’s so cold, okay? no more goin’ to bed and waitin’ on ya, I promise, I’ll stay-“

Guilt tightens his throat, making it harder from him to breathe.

He shakes his head again, trying to lessen the clawing sensation, trying to plead with her not to change her habits because of him, because he’s broken and needy and-

“It’s not up for discussion, Buck” Y/N murmurs, seeing the way he’s objecting, regret plain on his face, “You’ve gotta’ let me take care of ya’, especially whilst you’re not doin’ well, ’s what I’m here for”

She thinks it sounds an awful lot like he’s trying to apologise through his tears again, even though she can’t quite make out any words.

“I love you” she reminds him gently, when he starts to grow quiet again, “All of you, okay? You’re not on your own anymore”

Bucky’s head is reeling. It’s pounding, almost as harshly as his heart, and when he finally grows still, letting himself cry lamely, without a fight, he’s rewarded with familiar fingers threading through his hair.

He can’t help but let out a pathetic whimper, at how nice it feels.

Y/N feels her brow raise in the dark as she catches the noise he makes, when she starts to stroke the tangled lengths back, away from his face.

His skin is wet with tears, its hot beneath her fingers, as she lets them brush his cheeks, and his temples.

He inches out towards her touch, desperate to prolong the contact, even if he’s scared of earning a correction for being so brazen about his desire for skin on skin.

“Good” She coos, “Relax, Bucky, just, keep breathin’ for me, just like that”

The praise in her tone makes his pulse settle a fraction.

He does his best to obey, to keep inhaling, and exhaling without choking on air.

“I don’t- I don’t wanna be too much for you” he hears himself confess, voice small and wet and fractured, “Y/N-I- I need you, but I-I don’t, I- I can’t lose you because ‘m broken-”

“You are not broken” the woman is quick to cut in, as he starts to gulp and simper against her chest, again, “and you are never going to be too much for me, sweetheart- I can’t get enough of ya’”

Bucky feels his eyes rolling back in his head, as he risks a soft kiss against her collar bone.

“I’ll follow you to bed” he swears, “I won’t make ya’ stay up, doll- I’m just-I’m scared of dreamin’- I- I hate-”

“I know” she soothes, tone calm and as soft as she stills her fingers in his hair, “We’ll figure it out, I promise”

The man nods a fraction, arms tightening around her body in a hopeless display of affection.

“I… I love you” Y/N hears him whisper, voice shy and breathy, “I’m sorry… ‘m sorry you’ve gotta deal with-”

“Stop” she murmurs in response, feeling him sighing into her chest, “Stop actin’ like you’re keepin’ me here against’ my will, you know I love you too, don’t you, sweetheart?”

Bucky sniffles like a child, gulping down a sob as he makes himself nod again, more firmly than before.

“I… I know, I-“ he forces out, “I’m just… I’m just sorry”

The tone of his voice tightens Y/N’s throat, she looks over at his face, straining to see his features in the dim light of the room.

His eyes are shut, and the darkness surrounding them has cast strange shadows across his skin, making the soft edge of his jaw seem harsh, making the hollows under his eyes look like bruises.

She can see tears clinging to his lashes, she can see his nostrils flaring.

Bucky blinks, sensing her gaze- he wants to see her, too- he wants to tell her he means what he’s saying, that he really is sorry.

“I’m sorry” he says again, voice cracking, “I-”

“Oh, sweetheart” Y/N coos, stroking his damp cheek with her thumb, “I know you are, but, you shouldn’t be, you haven’t done anything wrong”

She continues to clean tear tracks away from his skin with her fingers, taking her time, knowing how much he relishes the contact, knowing how much he loves being touched by her, at all.

Bucky doesn’t argue, even though he feels like he probably should. He thinks he should do more to tell his partner about his evilness, about the grim reality of his past, of what he’s been turned into over the years, but he knows that Y/N already knows. He knows she’s under no illusions about who he is, and who he was, before.

Her thumb swipes at the skin under his eyes, and he finds himself leaning desperately into her touch, lurching out towards the gentleness she’s offering-

“Sun’s comin’ up”

He bites his lip when he hears her voice, soft and calm and real, beside him.

“You should get some rest” she suggests, carding back his hair as her other hand, slips around to hold his hand, “You’re tired”

“…I…” Bucky starts to reply, throat raw from the time he’s spent in tears, “I don’t want to sleep, doll- Please-”

Y/N shakes her head, hushing him before he can start pleading with her, again.

“I’m not gonna’ make you do anything” she reminds him kindly, “I’m just worried about you”

Guilt prickles at his nerves, he laces his metal fingers with the flesh ones she’s offered him so willingly, and tries to swallow down the way he wants to beg her for forgiveness all over again.

“I’ll do better for you” he promises instead, “I swear, doll, I’ll-”

“Baby” Her adoring voice cuts in, “You couldn’t be any better for me- You’re perfect- You’re just pushin’ yourself too hard, you’re not givin’ yourself a fightin’ chance… you haven’t been back that long at all, and you’re just forcin’ yourself to adapt”

Y/N knows he’s listening, his eyes are on hers again, and his brow is furrowed in consideration. She offers him a smile, and continues,

“Everyone is so proud of you, Buck-” he hears her drawl, “-but, you gotta try and remember that it’s okay if you’re not okay, for a while”

That doesn’t sound right.

HYDRA had spent the better part of a century torturing him, using him, and stripping him of every shred of his humanity, and if he’d learnt anything during his time in captivity, it had been that he didn’t get to be not okay- He didn’t get to beg for mercy, he didn’t get to cry out in pain without permission, and he definitely didn’t get to be weak.

Although… he didn’t get to be held either- he didn’t get to be warm, and safe and touched by someone who doesn’t want to hurt him, back then either, so showing how much he’s struggling doesn’t seem like something that’s still totally out of the realm of possibility, especially not with the woman he loves, with the woman who loves him, too

“I… I don’t think I’m doin’ well right now ” he confesses, voice nothing more than a whisper, “‘m not sure why…I- I’m just… I’m just hurtin’…”

Y/N squeezes his vibranium palm, she kisses his brow, and smiles when he melts into the contact, eyes shutting for a moment as he seems to embrace the vulnerability of their position.

“We’re all here to help you” she says softly, “Me, and Steve and-“

“Please, doll” Bucky hears himself cut in, “Please don’t tell Steve”

Her head tilts, she looks at him curiously as he makes himself swallow-

“I don’t want him to worry” he explains, “Kid spends too much time frettin’ over me already- last thing he needs is me sayin’ I’m scared of everythin’ in this damn place-”

“Everythin’?” Y/N echos, letting him nestle even further into her arms, “at least it’s not everyone”

Bucky feels his lips curling up a little at the jovial lilt in her voice. It’s domestic, and kind, and it helps him feel less broken than he had a moment before.

“No” he agrees, “can’t complain about the company”

She chuckles silently, chest rising and falling beneath his head-

“Just…” he sighs, rubbing his cheeks against her, “I can’t explain it, doll.. sometimes I’ll be walkin’ and the smell of somethin’ will just- take me back… or- or I’ll hear or see somethin’ and I’ll panic- I only feel safe with you- even- even in here, I- I was sleepin’- I didn’t mean to pass out, but I- I was just so tired y’know?”

Y/N does know, so she hums in agreement and nods, encouraging the way he’s opening up,

“but then I- I- I forgot where I was- all I knew was I should come in here- it’s - it’s like I defaulted to… to how I had to be back then, so- so I might stand a chance at stayin’ out of trouble”

“Bucky” she tries to interrupt, tone thick with affection

“I can’t take bein’ hurt anymore” he whispers, as though he hadn’t heard her, “It… it was so bad, Doll-I- Everyone screamin’ at me, and- and’ doin’ what they did- I- I was all on my own… I- I can’t live through that again, I-I can’t I-I couldn’t handle-handle it-I—”

“C’mere” Y/N murmurs, feeling his chest start to heave again, “Nobody is going to hurt you, I promise”

“W-what if- if you- if you leave me, I- I lost everyone- all my- my family- every-everyone other than you and Steve- you’re- you’re all I’ve got- I-”

Her head shakes, her arms tighten around him as she hushes out a calm breath into his hair,

“Nobody is leavin’ you” she swears, “You’re never gonna’ be locked up on your own again- you’re not goin’ to be punished, or forced into anythin, ever again, okay? I promise”

Her words are like balm against the raw, exposed edges of his soul. Bucky wonders absentmindedly how she always seems to know what he needs to hear, he thinks it might be because she knew him as the solider, back when he’d been nothing but a shell, a terrified, shell-

“We won’t tell Steve” she assures him next, remembering what has sparked this spell of emotional turbulence, “Not if you don’t want him to know, baby, that’s okay”

“T-thank you” he whispers, swallowing against the lump in his throat, “Doll-I- I can’t thank you enough- for- for takin’ care of me or— or runnin- out-”

“You don’t have to thank me” she purrs, feeling him tightening his fingers around hers, “I love you… All of you- everything’s going to be alright, you just need time, Buck, you’ve gotta stop tryin’ so hard for a while, you’ve gotta let yourself get better at your own pace”

“I… I don’t know how” he confesses, shame reddening his cheeks, “I don’t know how to stop… how to let go”

Y/N’s heart aches, she feels the man she’s holding sighing into her skin, and can’t help but stroke his hair, again.

“We’ll figure it out” she promises him, “You’ll get there, baby, you’re doin’ so well already-”

“Will… will ya’ help me, Doll?” he asks, despite every fibre of his being begging him not to, “I- I don’t think I- I can do this without you…”

“Of course I’ll help you” she’s quick to reply, “I’m not goin’ anywhere… I’m gonna look after you, for as long as you’ll let me”

I’ll always let you, Bucky thinks sadly, I’m always gonna want you taking care of me, that’s why I’m scared that you’ll leave.

He doesn’t tell her that, though- he just buries his nose in the skin behind her ear, and tries to relish in the way she’s stroking his neck.

“If you don’t feel like sleepin’, what do you wanna do?”

His head reels for a second, exhaustion making it harder than usual to form a coherent response.

“I…” She hears him begin, “We… We could go for a run?”

It’s 5am, now. The sky is dark, because of the season, the air is misty, but she knows he won’t be able to settle again, not whilst he’s so panicked, no matter how tired he is.

“We could” Y/N agrees, “Or… we could take a shower, or get breakfast… We can do whatever you want to, darlin’”

Gratitude swells in Bucky’s chest.

“I… I think I’d feel better if I burnt some of this adrenaline off” he admits, “I- I can go without ya’- meet ya back here?”

Y/N’s head tilts, she cups his jaw as he blinks at her innocently, through thick, drying lashes.

“I don’t mind comin’ along on a run round the compound” she murmurs, “but it’s cold out, Sweetheart- we should wrap up before we head anywhere”

“Are you sure?”

He looks awfully hopeful. Like the idea of her accompanying him on the morning route is more than he could ever have wished for.

It’s endearing, even though it’s sad.

“Positive” she promises, “and then we’ll shower- and-”

“We’ll eat, doll- I swear- I’ll get us breakfast”

Bucky knows Y/N hates running, really- he knows it reminds her of her own time with HYDRA, and that’s why she rarely joins him, even though she’s long given up trying to talk him out of the habitual routes he makes around the towers grounds.

He likes having her with him, though, no matter how selfish he thinks it is, because at least if she’s beside him, or behind him, or anywhere close by he can protect her- he can make sure she’s safe, and that’s all he wants- to keep her safe, forever.

It takes some of the anxiety out of the exercise when she indulges him like this, when she agrees to join him, even though he knows he slows his pace way down whenever she’s close by, his need to keep her in eye line outweighing his need to burn himself out.

He’s grateful, sickeningly so, so his promise of food, of a meal that he’ll eat beside her seems like the least he can offer her, in terms of repayment for her never waning kindness.

“That sounds like a fair trade” Y/N coos, bringing him back to the moment with a gentle kiss against his lips, “Shall we get dressed, baby? Better get movin’ before the others start swarmin’”

The nod he gives her is automatic, it’s mechanical and slow, but she ignores it, and goes to stand anyway, not wanting to do anything to draw attention to the way his mood is clearly still flickering between okay and very much not okay at all.

Bucky watches her dress, eyes trained in on the shape of her body in the dimly lit room. He barely blinks, even when he realises she’s ready, and it’s time for him to follow suit.

It takes a little while longer than it probably should for him to pull on his work out gear and slip his hands into thick, leather gloves, but Y/N doesn’t comment on that either, she just waits, a patient and approving smile on her face as she leans against the door frame.

“Ready?” she purrs when he eventually approaches her, eyes downcast, “Think you’ll be warm enough in that?”

Her gaze rolls over his top half, judging the thickness of his long sleeve with a quirk of her brow.

“I think so” he mumbles shyly, “too many layers makes you slow”

Y/N offers him a soft noise of agreement, before reaching up to tilt his chin up, his eyes roll up, too, to look at her earnestly as she smiles a fraction.

“Nothing wrong with bein’ a little slow” she reminds him, “Not when nothin’s coming after you”

Her words take a minute to hit him, he’s tired, his mind clouded-

“I’ll be okay” he whispers, his voice a plea, “I… I don’t… I don’t want to…”

Y/N cuts him off with a quiet breath, slipping her fingers up over his lips.

“’s okay” she murmurs calmly, “if you’re set, let’s go?”

Bucky gives her one last nod, before the slip out of the sanctuary of their suite, and make the route down through the towers stairwell, and out into the frost bitten yard. It’s huge, and the expanse of neatly mown grass crunches under his sneakers as he starts to build up a steady jogging pace.

Y/N starts to run, too. But she’s donning a thicker hoodie, and what looks like two pairs of pants, so she’s moving slower than she usually would’ve been.

He doesn’t mind, he stays by her flank until his face stops stinging, settling into numbness instead, at which point he starts to quicken, feeling better about starting to lap his partner.

It’s a silent agreement, that he can go as fast as he likes, and she’ll stay steady, so that he can keep track of her movements, of where she should be, in relation to where he is, and every time he passes her, he slows for a second, to wait for her to meet his eyes.

She only starts to worry when the sun is creeping up, making the sky glow pink, and he isn’t showing any sign of slowing, it’s been hours since they came outside, her body is warm, under her cocoon of clothes, blood pumping through her veins from the struggle of jogging for so long without a break, and Bucky is far from jogging. He’s sprinting, even for him, he’s making more than good time, lapping her every few minutes, barely stopping for breath.

“Bucky” she calls when he next starts to pull up behind her, “Sweetheart, we should head back in”

His head snaps towards her, eyes wild and frantic, nose redder than his flushed cheeks.

He halts, feet jerking to a sudden stop. She turns and closes the distance, really taking in the sight of his face in the fresh winter sunlight.

“Come on” Bucky hears her soothe, the panicked pounding of his chest that’s echoing through his ears quieting at her voice, ”Let’s get you inside.”

1 | x | 3

#bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfic #the winter soldier x you #fluff #x reader #drabble #series #BBcometobed

[nouklea]

Karma? Really?

Here comes my post for @weylerweek2023 day 1.

Chosen prompt: College AU.

Karma? Really? (3744 words) by nouklea Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Wednesday (TV 2022) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Wednesday Addams/Tyler Galpin Characters: Tyler Galpin, Wednesday Addams, Hyde (Jekyll and Hyde) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Post-Season/Series 01, Rehabilitation, Past Child Abuse, Past Violence, Past Torture, Tyler Galpin Has PTSD, Hyde Tyler Galpin, Weyler Week 2023 Summary: Five years after the Blood Moon events, Tyler Galpin is now an anonymous rehabilitated citizen; the only person knowing about his past is the Hyde in his head. When he unexpectedly learns about Wednesday Addams whereabouts, he jeopardizes with the new balance in his life to find her.

#weyler week 2023 #posting this at 3 am because yeah i'm awake #but i won't read others fics before i post mine #but it's not 3 am ramblings #well maybe those comments are #weyler #weyler fanfiction #weyler writing week #wednesday x tyler #tyler x wednesday #tyler galpin #wednesday addams #ao3 fanfic #ao3

[dhr-ao3]

There and Back

There and Back https://ift.tt/5btgWm8 by aplacetostart She knows exactly where she’d go, what she’d say. It wouldn’t even be hard. One trip, there and back. One decision shifted ever so slightly. All she needs to do is find the right ripple, ride it to the right shore… Hermione Granger would give anything to fix the greatest mistake she's ever made. But when her recklessness gets the best of her and her plan falls apart, she's forced to pick up the pieces of her own life - then, now, and in the future - in the most unexpected ways. Words: 3744, Chapters: 1/5, Language: English Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger's Mother, Hermione Granger's Father, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley, Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Additional Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-Second Wizarding War with Voldemort (Harry Potter), Time Turners (Harry Potter), Obliviate | Memory Charm (Harry Potter), Time Travel, Memory Loss, Janus Thickey Ward (Harry Potter), Unspeakables (Harry Potter), Adult Hermione Granger, Adult Draco Malfoy, Ministry of Magic Employee Hermione Granger, Minister for Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter Friendship, Good Friend Parvati Patil, Past Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Endgame Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Light Angst, Romance, Falling In Love, Love at First Sight, Eventual Smut via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/uXcJUkO March 26, 2024 at 02:12AM

#IFTTT #Dramione #Draco x Hermione

[nottonyharrison]

Next Week's Problem

Max Verstappen/Daniel Ricciardo | T | 3744 words

Two months after he retires, a year after his divorce, and two years, one month, and sixteen days after his father had dropped dead of a stroke at the underripe age of sixty-one, Max comes out. Sort of.

#maxiel #f1 fanfic #f1 rpf

[ao3feedzukka-blog]

Moving Without Moving

https://archiveofourown.org/works/51280300 by ethemreal Sokka has a romantic night in by himself with a book and a heated footstool. Words: 3744, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Avatar: The Last Airbender Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Sokka (Avatar), Zuko (Avatar) Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar) Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Trans Male Character, Trans Sokka (Avatar), Human Furniture, Dom Sokka (Avatar), Sub Zuko (Avatar), Dom/sub, Anal Fingering, Hand Jobs, frottage with a T dick, Choking, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot November 01, 2023 at 04:27AM

#IFTTT #Zukka #AO3Feed Zukka #Sokka/Zuko

[ao3feed-zukka]

Moving Without Moving

Read now on Ao3 at https://ift.tt/sW3mJ9O by ethemreal Sokka has a romantic night in by himself with a book and a heated footstool. Words: 3744, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Avatar: The Last Airbender Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Sokka (Avatar), Zuko (Avatar) Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar) Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Trans Male Character, Trans Sokka (Avatar), Human Furniture, Dom Sokka (Avatar), Sub Zuko (Avatar), Dom/sub, Anal Fingering, Hand Jobs, frottage with a T dick, Choking, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot Read it on Ao3 at https://ift.tt/sW3mJ9O

#IFTTT #zukka #sokka #zuko #avatar: the last airbender #atla #ao3 feed

[ao3feed-destiel-02]

We are nothing but myths now that neither of us believe in

We are nothing but myths now, that neither of us believe in https://ift.tt/mdCFLlt by cowboylikekars After a long absence, High Prince Castiel returns to the Kingdom of Angelis after winning the war. The monarch, carried away by excitement, announces a time of great joy prevailing in the Kingdom, and with it a Luminous Mating, during which the Prince will marry one of the Omegas. Dean Winchester has suffered through his father's rage and despair for years. The former knight of the Highest King Charles has become an outcast, and with him his family has suffered misery. When Dean one day hears the Highest Prince's promise that any Omega who attends the Luminous Feast will marry one of the knights, Dean decides to get to the castle and forge a new life for himself and his brother. If only it were that simple and if the Highest Prince hadn't turned out to be everything Dean had dreamed... Words: 3744, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: M/M Characters: Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Missouri Moseley, John Winchester, Crowley (Supernatural) Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternative Universe - Kingdom, Alpha Castiel/Omega Dean Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Abusive Parents, John Winchester Being an Asshole via AO3 works tagged 'Castiel/Dean Winchester' https://ift.tt/EdHfL1F October 23, 2023 at 06:13PM

#IFTTT #AO3 works tagged 'Castiel/Dean Winchester' #Destiel #ao3feed #ao3feed Destiel #Destiel fanfic #Dean Winchester/Castiel #Castiel/Dean Winchester #Dean x Castiel #Castiel x Dean

[ao3feed-izuku-midoriya]

To Be Fine

To be fine by Aizawa Reo

It's not that Izuku hated his friends, really, he didn't !

But when you're a homeless high schooler, your priorities really aren't the same.

They just lived in different worlds, but he acted like he was part of their own, and they believed it.

Thankfully? the difference being taken in by your teachers made wasn't as noticable as he feared it would be.

Words: 3744, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 3 of Finding my way home to you

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic

Relationships: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic

Additional Tags: Quirkless Midoriya Izuku, Parental Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Parental Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Abusive Midoriya Inko, Neglectful Midoriya Inko, Bully Bakugou Katsuki, Established Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Married Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Iida Tenya is a Good Friend, Autistic Iida Tenya

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44102698

#AO3 Feed #FanFiction #AO3 Izuku #♠ #Erasermic· #Izuku Midoriya #R:G #A:Aizawa #Quirkless AU #Dadzawa #Dad Mic

[ao3feed-dadzawa]

To be Fine

To be fine by Aizawa Reo

It's not that Izuku hated his friends, really, he didn't !

But when you're a homeless high schooler, your priorities really aren't the same.

They just lived in different worlds, but he acted like he was part of their own, and they believed it.

Thankfully? the difference being taken in by your teachers made wasn't as noticable as he feared it would be.

Words: 3744, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 3 of Finding my way home to you

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic

Relationships: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic

Additional Tags: Quirkless Midoriya Izuku, Parental Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Parental Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Abusive Midoriya Inko, Neglectful Midoriya Inko, Bully Bakugou Katsuki, Established Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Married Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Iida Tenya is a Good Friend, Autistic Iida Tenya

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44102698

#AO3 Feed #FanFiction #AO3 Dadzawa #♥ #Erasermic #Izuku Midoriya #R:G #A:Aizawa #Quirkless AU #Dadzawa