#ade yammers

[medicinemane]

You ever glance over at Ublock while you're on youtube, and see 824 and somehow literally growing like 3 at a time (probably trackers) just chilling on the front page... and you think... yeah... that's too many ads to be seeing in one day, Ublock stays on?

#we always talk about what would kill medieval peasants; but what about things that would send them on a rampage #I feel like if you showed some monk a news page with no adblock that he'd go crush someone to death with his bare hands #I'm just saying I think the human brain wasn't made to see that many ads #like to be clear I basically reblog ads... but the ads I reblog are 'look at pretty thing; you can also buy it from me' #no one cares when there's an etsy link in the bottom #but endless yammering and movement and dumb shit designed to try and grab your attention... no more I think #and these sites don't get that it's not between me browsing with ublock or browsing raw #it's between me browsing with ublock or not going to their site at all #I don't care for twitch personally; but I extra don't care for it cause sometimes they crack my adblock #and all that does is piss me off and makes me leave

[shadowgirl7]

Hey....

@satanic-witchcraft​ I was browsing through your page (awesome audios, btw!), when I see this ad after going past the Wally Darling Happy Birthday audio...

I did not, nor could not edit this. I just had to share this with you. And the rest of the world.

#ShadowGirl7's yammerings #Seriously though I'm freaking sick of these freaking sponsored ads all over the place #Welcome Home #Welcome Home ARG #Wally Darling #Tumblr Edition

[yyyyyyayy]

graphic design ks clearly their passion /genuine /light hearted /joke

#we need more shitty ms paint ads honestly. i love the vibes they give #yammers rants #i genuinely love silly

[agirlandherkinks]

Hypnovisor: Beta Test (TGTF, Hypno)

James had always been a tech super-fan. The newest phone, newest headphones, shiniest laptop, he had to stay abreast of and on top of the current trends. So when he read about some fancy new VR company that wanted beta testers for a headset, provided for free (minus shipping), his vision blurred and he signed up before he even considered finishing reading the ad.

Three weeks of anticipation and waiting passed until his doorbell finally rung, accompanied by the corresponding buzz of an email notification on his phone. Scrambling from his couch he flung the apartment door open, and to his mild surprise saw that the postman was nowhere in site. There was just a nondescript cardboard box labelled "Fragile", which fortunately bore none of the expected dents and scratches one would associate with the postal service and delicate freight. Practically bouncing with undignified delight, James scooped his parcel up and dashed back inside, barely remembering to lock the door behind him.

The headset looked even better than he had imagined. Sleek plastic curves surrounded a central visor that was just translucent enough to see through, meaning you could walk around safely if you turned a program's opacity down. It fit beautifully when he tried it on, more comfortable than anything he'd ever worn. Wearing it felt wonderful and... right, somehow. His only complaint was that the black headset was decorated in hot pink highlights, although it still looked futuristic enough to sooth his fragile masculinity. His roommate and best friend Erik certainly agreed, interspersing James' insightful comments with appropriate "Ooh's" and "Aah's". Waiting for the battery to charge seemed to take a thousand years, although chatting with each other about what it could do replaced their boredom with swiftly growing excitement.

Two hours later, a soft buzz from the headset in the corner signified its charge was complete. Erik cheered, his sandy-blonde hair bouncing behind him, and even James couldn't suppress a soft whoop of excitement. Erik unplugged it and handed it to James with a flourish and a bow, who accepted it with a suitable stuffy speech. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but he was so giddy with anticipation he felt he could match Erik's goofiness for once. The advertisement had promised unmatched realism, a luxurious fit, and cutting-edge, groundbreaking technology. Normally James would have discounted claims like that as corporate claptrap, but the headset fit so well he actually believed the rest of it.

Booting up the headset brought a perky, relaxing jingle in his ears and wall of settings text in his vision. He would have read it, but between his own excitement and Erik's infectious enthusiasm he left the settings on default and skipped to the main menu. The feedback for the buttons was amazing, it felt just like he was pressing down on them whenever he touched one! Another little jingle sounded as he confirmed his choices, and a few games and applications bubbled up into his view, imposed over a hot pink background.

"So Erik, what do you think I should try," James asked. "We've got a music player, interior design app, some sorta idle monster game, and a few RPG's." "Surely try out the RPG's man! You've gotta see that high-definition you were yammering about when we called." Erik's voice came back surprisingly muffled, as if he was speaking down a long tunnel. "Bro, I can barely hear you, the noise-cancelling on this headset's insane! It's like I'm in a world of my own!" James took a deep breath, recovering a little of his composure. "Alright, an RPG it is. Fantasy, sci-fi, or modern day?" "Go fantasy! You know we've both got a thing for elf chiiiicks. Hell, with the kind of feedback you were telling me about, you might even get to grab her" Erik's distant voice sounded playful, with a ting of desire and jealousy. And it did make James hard, at the thought of getting to look and squeeze and fondle some busty elf bitch, made entirely to his wishes~

To James' horror a quiet moan escaped his lips, accompanied by faint hysterical laughter from his friend. Brushing it off angrily, he slammed the icon for 'Silverflame: A Magical Journey' (the button felt like thick moss to his touch). Instantly a soft flute begun to play in his ears, accompanied by the gentle lull of a harp and a quiet sparkling. James felt himself relax, all the tension draining out of his body. Erik must have noticed too, because James heard his laughter die down to be replaced with a slightly concerned silence. "Don't worry man," James said, "music's just really pretty..." He trailed off with a slight giggle, but heard Erik give an affirmative just before a silky, sultry voice started to speak.

"Welcome traveler, to the beautiful world of Silverflame. An untamed paradise where strange beasts roam the land, noble adventurers go forth in search of treasure, and the most wonderful magic [James shuddered] is woven. You are the latest brave, beautiful heroine [Heroine? Shouldn't I get to choose my character's gender first?] to step foot into this land. But first, tell us a bit about who you really are."

Pink sparkles rained across the screen, superimposing his view of a vibrant meadow with a series of stats. Physique, IQ, Wisdom, and Charisma, fairly standard stuff. And next to it, a human man with a blank, slightly happy expression on his face [...did he look familiar?]. James gasped, he looked just like a real person! Erik was suitably impressed by this information, and urged him to pick some stats so he can get to the body modification. "You can always change them later man, might as well pick a couple of stats now and get a move on. Sounds like you're not gonna get to pick your gender for a while, which kinda sucks. Buuut if we're being horny about this, you might as well go for a slut scaffold so you make less changes later." James chuckled at this, remembering the build they discussed one night while both sloshed beyond belief. For this game it would be high Physique and Charisma, low IQ and Wisdom. James touched the slider for Physique, and gasped as he felt himself feel... better than he had in a long time.

Not trusting his senses any more, and worrying about Erik being exposed to whatever was happening from the other side of the headset, James brushed off his concerned questions (which he could barely hear now, past the soothing, soothing, music) and suggested he went to the toilet, since he'd been holding it in since he got here. Erik grumbled at missing out, but mercifully left. James was actively sweating from what just went through his body, but couldn't muster the energy or concentration to feel the level of panic he knew he should be. The music was just so, so calming, that fear was harder to feel than usual. The prompt told him he still had to change two more stats, so he decided to turn down Wisdom. He gasped again and his vision went blurry, and when it cleared he felt a bit, fuzzier? In the head. But it wasn't too bad, in fact it was perfectly manageable. He felt even calmer now, so maybe changing another stats would make him feel better. Why not IQ? He tapped the slider.

He groaned as an immense pressure wrapped around his brain. Thoughts, aspirations, memories felt like they were melting from his head faster than they appeared. The pressure seemed like it lasted forever, but eventually it trailed off and he was left panting in his chair. It had felt, really good? Like, tots good, even. James giggled to himself. Something was different about him, but he couldn't think what. Oh well, it'll probably come to him later. He squealed in delight as he realized he could get a step closer to the body modification page, although he looked longingly at the IQ slider. He could come back to it later, for now it was time to make his super-hot elf slut a body!

James clapped to himself with delight as a cute little melody played, a shower of sparkles spiraled [spiraled...] across the screen, and the man on the side moved to the center of the screen. "Firstly", the sultry voice said, "choose what race you want to be." That was an easy choice. He clicked on the 'Elf' button, and shivered as he felt tingles run through his body, intensifying in his ears. Reaching up to touch them, he inhaled as he felt long, pointed tips. In fact, his whole body seemed a bit slimmer. This doesn't quite feel right... he thought. Oh I know! It must be making me an elf too! Maybe we'll be in a party together! Between the strange fuzziness and the pulsating heat in his groin, James quickly flicked to the next page and made his choices. Long, silver hair, gorgeous big purple eyes, and some giant perky lips. "Combination unlocked!" the narrator exclaimed, "+1 Charisma, -1 Wisdom!" James giggled again as the mental fog settled a little tighter around his brain and naughty thoughts about cute girls and boys filled his brain. Boys? Well I guess I've never minded swinging both ways... This felt natural to him, because of course he'd always been bisexual. Next screen!

"Choose your voice young heroine," the woman commanded. James felt a little strange, like her voice was echoing around his head. And why were the sparkles still there, spinning and spinning around the screen. He felt confused, but knew he had to obey that voice. He picked the sexiest combination for his own voice; high pitched, breathy, perky. "Combination unlocked! +1 Charisma, -1 Int." He moaned as that wonderful pressure wrapped his brain and his weekend plans changed to eyeing hunks at the beach. Girls were cool and all, but men had always been more interesting to him [and their pulsing, hard...].

"Now heroine, can you tell me: Are you a girl, or a boy?" The question sent shock waves through his brain. He was a he... right? Why did it feel like there was some longing, some need to acknowledge the woman in him... her? The fog, the music, the spirals, all the feelings he had been having, James could hardly think. Maybe he should think less. Being a girl sounded fun, it's just a character after all. And he needed to be sexy. "Wonderful choice young lady! Now, are you a dominatrix, a super-switch, or a bimbo slut?" Bimbo slut~ James giggled as the words echoed in her brain. She was a bit of a slut, now that she thought about it. It felt odd to pick it, but why not for funsies? "Bimbo slut selected! Wonderful choice, just wonderful. Hold still while your stats are adjusted, and then we'll begin on giving you the perfect, sexy body you've always wanted."

The spirals filled her view and began increasing in speed. James was taken aback at first, but quickly felt oddly calm and receptive to that sultry voice.

"Physique +1, Physique +1, Physique +1." James felt wonderful, like every ache and blemish in his body had faded away.

"Wisdom -1, Wisdom -1." Thinking was fuzzy, but Jamella felt so content she didn't care.

"Charisma +1, Charisma +1, Charisma +1, Charisma +1. Charisma +1." Jamella gasped as visions of sexy men, pecs and abs and juicy, throbbing cocks filled her mind. A desperate heat filled her, and she began touching her groin against her will to try and ease it.

"IQ -1." She moaned, feeling light.

"IQ-1." Empty. She was so, wonderfully empty.

"IQ -1." This was like, so much funsies! She didn't know what was going on, but everything felt so nice~

"IQ -1. Congratulations Ella, you now have the 'Bimbo Slut' build."

Ella giggled absently. Thinking was like, so hard, and she felt like, so hard~. The fun spirals had disappeared... But the nice lady was talking to her again! With great effort, she listened in. "Now that your mental changes are complete, it's time for the physical changes!" Ella rubbed her thighs together and cheered in excitement. She couldn't wait to have more fun! "Unless you choose so now, the process will be au-to-ma-tic [...why was she using such big words?]. You can choose to take over at any time, or wait until the end and adjust as you please [...please. That word felt funny in her brain]".

"No user input detected. Body adjustment commencing."

A nice shiver went through Ella's body as she felt her headset warm against her face. Looking at the boring young man she'd begun to customize (her reflection, of course), she couldn't wait to begin! She sighed happily as waves of pretty silver hair drifted into her view and cascaded down her back. It felt especially nice against her smooth, soft skin, and she couldn't help but gently shake her head to watch it sway. A cool feeling brought her attention to her face, and the alluring amethyst eyes now set in it. Her face itself became much more elegant [but cutesy, too!], and she puckered her lips as a lovely pressure made them swell and bulge out, giving her a sexy and kissable pout [the boys'll love this look! boys~]. She felt herself shrink a few centimeters, gulping as her Adam's apple disappeared into her body. In fact, her whole body had become even more slender, with narrow shoulders, adorably small hands [pretty purple nails!], and a tiny little waist. She gasped, then clasped her hands over her mouth in delight. Her voice was so high and cutesy! She couldn't stop herself from giving out tiny, high-pitched giggles, just to hear how cute she was!

"Basic body structure altered. Adjusting outfit in preparation for primary and secondary sexual characteristics."

Ella ooh'ed appreciatively as a stream of sparkles enveloped her body. And when they disappeared, she squealed in delight! Her drab t-shirt and denim shorts were gone! In their place was a beautiful silver mini-dress that shimmered like starlight when she moved. She frowned in vexation, though. The plunging chest and shoulder-less design was very pretty, but her chest was flat! [shouldn't I have tiddies? The boys won't like me like this...] And the way it clung to her waist and hips would have been sexy, but as it was there was barely any difference between them! Her ass wasn't nearly big enough to justify how the dress cut off barely past it, and with how tight the fabric was Ella could see how achingly hard she was [wait, why do I have a cock? I'm supposed to get cock! In my mouth, in my ass, in my tight little pussy~]. It wasn't right!

"Thank you for your patience sweetie. Optimal figure calculated. Prepare for adjustment of sexual characteristics."

Ella let out a moan as a wave of heat and pleasure washed over her. With how horny she was she could barely keep her eyes open, but she knew she wanted to watch herself become the sexy little [cum] slut she was meant to be [I want it... I want to be~]. The heat settled in her hips, her ass, and her chest, and she moaned again as the changes begun.

Her nipples grew first, more than doubling in size and stiffening through the soft fabric of her dress. Tentatively touching them induced a gasp of pleasure [so nice~] and sent her rocking backwards. The motion made her giggle, because in that time she'd grown a cute pair of B-cup breasts that jiggled when she rocked. Jiggle makes me giggle. I like giggling. I like jiggling. Ella nodded thoughtfully to herself, feeling very wise. Her boobies grew to C-cups. She jiggled some more. She giggled some more.

A tightness around her hips distracted Ella from her tiddies. They were growing! She groaned as fabric and flesh tightened around them, too euphoric to feel pain. Sliding her hands from her waist to her hips made her squeal happily. She had such a sexy hourglass figure, she knew any girl worth her money would be jealous [and the boys would wanna hold me and squeeze me and fuck me raw]. Thighs thickening dramatically in response to her growth, she slapped her ass in impatience. Why won't it get bigger already!

But get bigger it did, swelling out in response to her touch. She fell forward as sheer pleasure blanketed her mind and weakened her knees. Squishing her boobies against the ground made her feel even nicer, until she was panting and moaning for somebody to help, to hit her again and make her bigger~

A slap landed on her booty, and she groaned in delight as it and her thighs swelled again. More. More! I NEED MORE! She moaned in ecstasy as blow after blow landed, making her swell and grow and grow and swell and feel so gooooood! Her tits inflated to D, then E-cups [good for the boys. I can jiggle so well for them~]. Her hips widened and thighs thickened, until she looked ridiculously large compared to her waist [ridicu... ridic... really, really sexy...] And her ass kept growing, and growing, and growing and growing and growing and growing! Tighter! Around my cock! Cock... I... oh~ Too... too... much! Too much! I'm~ I'm!

OooOOoOoOOooOoOoooOOOOOHHH~

Ella screamed in delight as she came, just cumming and cumming and cumming her tiny little brain out.

"Wisdom -1. IQ -1. Charisma +1. Charisma +1."

She was desperate, humping against the ground as the flow of cum abated from her cock. Everything she had been was flowing out of her messy stupid brain, and everything that she should be was coming in. Boys... Cock... Need fuck... Breed~ I'm such a dumb little cum slut~ She giggled to herself.

"Final adjustment required."

Ella stood up shakily, the bottom of her dress a cum-soaked mess. She squealed with delight as the mental fog settled even tighter and she felt an intense heat in her groin. She could see the tops of nipples trying to break free from her dress, and could feel the air drift over her ass, which had mostly escaped the fabric in her growth. So sexy. Hehe~ Boy can take me~ Don't even need dress off~ Thinking hard... Her ass and hips had pulled up so much fabric that her cock was visible now, deflating and still leaking from her orgasm, but she gasped in pleasure as it began rising up again. And, as she felt something long and hard brush her booty [cock? Boys? Fuck?].

A pressure like hands on her shoulders forced her to her knees, and she whimpered in desire as she felt an unseen cock touch her cheek. At the same time, something began intensely stimulating her own. She reflexively opened her mouth in a moan, but was cut off as she felt the cock shove inside [Feels~ Feels!].

All thought stopped.

Her mind was blank, full of pleasure and desire and happiness. Her cock felt good like it never had before, and the dick in her mouth tasted wonderful~ This was what Ella was made for, what she was meant to be. Feeling good, feeling sexy, feeling a pleasant emptiness that could only be filled with cock. Her haze reached a crescendo. Dimly she was aware of her own cries of ecstasy, muffled by the cock fucking her mouth and mind, as she came harder than she even had before. And as she came, her dick shrunk with each spurt until it went inside her [inside me!]. The cock withdrew from her mouth, filling her with a desperate longing. Emma moaned for her unseen hero, then gasped as she felt him once more. And blinked in surprise as the pretty meadow and her sexy reflection disappeared.

She was kneeling on the floor of an unfamiliar room. Shaking off a little of her confusion [don't need know much anyways...], she gasped as the tell-tale smell of pre-cum filled her nose. There was a man standing in front of her!

Sandy-blonde hair. Body like a surfer hunk! Naked. With a massive, sexy cock, dripping with her saliva and it's own juices. Ella moaned in desire, falling on all fours. Visibly trembling with lust, he tenderly cupped her cheek and slowly moved behind her.

Touching her with his [cock!].

Ever so gently, on the edge of her [...pussy!!!!]

He rammed inside her, and she screamed as an absolute feeling of rightness, of sexiness and pleasure and single-minded happiness rushed through her [MORE! HARDER! COCKKKK~]. Riding his dick she felt herself go into a trance, with nothing, absolutely nothing, disturbing her feelings. Ever. This was right. Ella moaned and surrendered to herself, drifting away on her lover's cock and mindless pleasure.

#hypnosis #tgtf #brain drain #breast expansion #hip expansion #ass expansion #hypnok1nk #bimboification #expansion #ally's kinks

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Superstar (Superstar Chapter 1)

I'm no one special, just another wide-eyed girl

Who's desperately in love with you

Give me a photograph to hang on my wall, superstar

The Reader is thrilled to start a new job at AFC Richmond- especially since it means working with a certain player-turned-coach.

Roy Kent x Reader

2.7k words

Warnings: language (because Roy Kent); I’m a bit rusty so forgive my writing!

A/N: Been having some horribly bad writer’s block in addition to work stress. Thankfully my man Roy Kent helped me finally break through!!!

~

“Well, there she is!” Coach Ted Lasso waved enthusiastically as I parked my car in the staff lot. Next to him stood Rebecca Welton, who offered the tiniest of waves and something of an apologetic smile.

I took a deep breath, my hand hovering over the driver’s side door. First day on the new job: coach’s assistant. Between three coaches, there was a lot going on; they needed someone to handle communication, schedules, and small tasks so they could focus on training and (hopefully) winning. Having grown up just around the corner from Nelson Road, it felt almost like an honor to be part of the organization.

In a blur, Ted had firmly shaken my hand for what felt like an eternity, yammered off about a dozen Lasso-isms that I wasn’t quite sure I heard correctly, and ushered me into the building, all with Rebecca following along, interjecting short corrections and reassurances every time Ted paused to take a breath.

“And this here’s the locker room,” Ted announced with a small flourish. “Now, the boys tend to be pretty modest, the only one you may see too much of is Jamie, but if you just throw a towel in his face, he’ll take the hint.” He opened the door, gesturing for me to follow.

Rebecca touched my arm gently, that tight smile still on her face. “I should be going. But please, let me know if there’s anything you need. You’re in great hands,” she added, nodding towards Ted. “Welcome to Richmond.” With another touch to my arm, she was gone.

I followed Ted into the changing room. A few guys were milling about, still in their street clothes, chattering and beginning to put their things away. They looked up when I entered, offering small nods of acknowledgement. Ted rattled off their names, all familiar to me. I made mental notes about how each one smiled and shook my hand, trying to take snapshots in my brain so I could describe every moment to my family later that night.

After meeting all the players that Ted called “early birds”, I followed Ted into the coaches’ offices, where I was quickly introduced to Coach Beard, who nodded from behind a tattered copy of Either/Or.

“Now, Coach Beard and I share this office,” Ted was explaining. “You’ll be right through here. Hope ya don’t mind sharing!” He led me through the side door to another office. “I’m sure you know this ray of sunshine here is Roy Kent.”

My stomach jumped to my throat as the man in black track pants and a dark Richmond shirt glanced up from his desk. As if I really needed to be introduced to the man whose poster still hung above the bed in my childhood bedroom. Several kits sporting his name and number hung in my closet. Hell, for one birthday my jokester dad even got me a cardboard cutout of the man. It currently sat folded in the back of a closet in my flat, but it often made an appearance in my living room when I hosted game day parties with my mates.

I was pretty sure if I dug far enough in my parents’ attic, I’d find my school notebooks with “Mrs. Roy Kent” scribbled all over them.

And now he sat in front of me, staring up at me through thick eyelashes that made me go weak in the knees. A half scowl appeared on his face. “You’re the assistant then?” He offered his hand.

I nodded, praying that neither coach could see my body trembling slightly as I reached out to shake Roy Kent’s hand. “I- I am.”

Ohmygod ohmygod I’m shaking Roy Kent’s hand I’m touching Roy Kent Roy Kent spoke to me Roy Kent is looking at me ohmygod ohmygod.

It felt far too soon when he let go of my hand. “Well, as long as you keep your shit off my desk and don’t wear any rancid perfume, we should be fucking fine.” He nodded behind him toward an empty desk. “That’s you.” Without another word, he stood up, grabbed the notebook he had been drawing in, and left.

Ted beamed at me. “Well now, that went great! That’s about as charming as you can expect Roy to be, so count yourself lucky. Now, why don’t you get yourself settled and we’ll see you in the locker room in about ten minutes?”

~

“D’you like kebabs?”

I turned my head, pausing my fingers above my keyboard. “Excuse me?”

With a giant sigh, Roy swiveled around in his chair, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Kebabs. D’you like ’em?”

“Uh, I guess.” I scrunched my nose as I stared at him. After two weeks of working for Richmond, this was the first time Roy had spoken to me so directly. Up until now, it had been mostly grunts and growls in my general direction. But, after years of watching him on the pitch, I knew by the look in his eye that he didn’t hate me- at least, not any more than he hated the rest of the world. And that was fine enough with me.

“You guess?” There was that scowl. “You either fuckin’ like ‘em or you don’t.”

It took all my strength to suppress my grin. God, he was just as gorgeous as when I used to watch him play on the television. “Fine, fine. I like kebabs.”

With a suddenness that almost made me jump in my seat, Roy stood up. “Okay.” Without another word, he walked out of our office.

About twenty minutes later, a Styrofoam container slammed onto my desk. I looked up at Roy, who towered over me, a plastic bag clutched in his fist. He glowered at me.

“Thanks, Roy,” I managed, opening the box. Sure enough, kebabs. I smiled up at him, but his eyes were scanning my desk.

“That your family?” He pointed at a frame that held a photo my family had taken during a camping trip.

“Oh, yeah. My folks and brothers. They live not far from here. We grew up huge Richmond fans.”

His eyes continued to roam my work area. “What, no pictures of your boyfriend? Is he fuckin’ ugly or somethin’?”

My cheeks heated up. “No boyfriend.” Somewhere inside me, boldness surged forward. “What about you? I don’t see your model of the week on your desk.”

He smirked. Ohmygod he smirked. “I’m too fucking old for that shit now.”

“Uh huh.” I couldn’t make myself say anything else. All I could see was that smirk, and those brown eyes. Until I realized he was waiting for me to say something. Speak, you idiot! “I like kebabs,” I blurted. Shit.

The smirk softened slightly. “So I heard.”

For a moment he just stood there, smiling down at me. Then he cleared his throat, glancing at the bag in his hand. “Don’t tell anyone I got you lunch. They’ll be trying to make me some fuckin’ errand boy if they find out.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

With a small hmmf, Roy nodded and headed back to his desk. I smiled down at the container on my desk and returned to my work, ignoring my burning cheeks.

~

“What does Jamie Tartt smell like?”

“Is the gaffer really like that in person?”

“Did you pass out when you met Roy Kent?”

Swallowing the bite of pasta I had been chewing on, I grinned at my family. “Tartt wears a homemade combo of Tom Ford, Dior, and Juicy Couture that he calls ‘Tartt by Tartt’. Coach Lasso is exactly what he seems. And Roy Kent…”  I cleared my throat and prayed my face wasn’t completely red. “He’s fine.” My voice cracked slightly. “We, uh share an office. He got me kebabs for lunch last week.”

“Come off it,” I scoffed. “Or else I’ll take back those VIP tickets I got you for your birthday.”

“Ooh, Roy Kent bought you kebabs?” my dad hummed, grinning at me pointedly. “My future son-in-law, the football superstar.”

Before my dad could retort, the doorbell rang. I jumped up, relieved to have a distraction.

“I’ve got it!” I just about sprinted down the hall to the front door, confident it was our elderly neighbor asking to borrow the spare key, as she did at least once a week. Instead, when I threw the door open, I found Roy Kent on my parents’ front porch.

“We should really put a fucking tracking device on you,” he grumbled as he moved past me into the entryway.

I stared at him, closing the door. “Um, not to be rude, but why are you here? At my mum and dad’s house?”

He shoved a manila envelope into my hands. “Some papers Lasso wanted you to work on if you can this weekend. Said it was important. I dunno, I don’t fucking listen to him when he yammers.”

“Oh.” I placed the envelope on a nearby table and folded my arms. “And how-how did you know where I was?”

Roy wiggled his phone in the air. “You’re one of those idiots that has their Snapchat locations on. You’re gonna get fucking murdered one of these days y’know.”

Right. Ted had made us all join multiple Snapchat groups with him; he was adamant about keeping our streaks.

I couldn’t help but grin. “And you’re gonna murder me?”

“Not today.” A small smirk cracked through that grizzled face. “But apparently if I wanted to, you’d be easy as hell to find.”

“I’ll just have to keep being a good officemate then,” I supposed teasingly. Am I flirting with Roy Kent?!

“You’re doing a fine job so far.” Roy took a step towards me, looking down at me.

Is he flirting back?!

My brain short-circuited. “Um, well I…” I coughed, looking around the entryway, as if I hadn’t walked through it my entire life. “Thanks for uh, bringing those papers.” A question interrupted the high-pitched buzzing in my brain. “Why’d you bring it by the way?”

Roy cleared his throat and took a step back, allowing a respectful space between us again. “Told you, Lasso said it’s important.”

“Yeah…” I started slowly. “But I’m sure it’s something you guys could’ve sent Will to do. Or something Ted would probably love to do, tracking me down to my dad’s birthday dinner. Why are you-?”

“He’s here! He’s there! He’s every-fucking-where! Roy Kent!” Beaming, my dad burst past me and clapped a hand on Roy’s shoulder as Roy stared at him with wide eyes. “Oh hell, Roy Kent’s in my foyer!” He turned and faced me. “I can’t believe you got Roy Kent to come down here! You’re my favorite kid, you can tell your bloody brothers that anytime.” He grabbed Roy’s hand and started pumping it, reminding me of the first time I had met Ted. “It’s an honor to have you here. Absolute honor.”

I finally found my voice. “Dad, Roy’s just here giving me some stuff for work. He’s not here for your-”

“What kind of cake do you have?” Roy’s gruff voice interrupted.

“Chocolate,” my dad answered. “M’wife made it herself. And we have plenty of pasta if you’re hungry.”

Roy unzipped his jacket. “Then happy fucking birthday. Let’s eat.”

~

A half hour later, I was still in a state of shock. Roy Kent was sitting next to me in my parents’ dining room, chatting with my dad and eating my mum’s pasta. He took all everyone’s questions in stride, not seeming to mind how obsessed my brothers were. He only growled at them twice- once when they asked about his knee, and again when they said how much they like Jamie Tartt. Of course, they made kissy faces whenever Roy wasn’t looking, and my mum kept raising her eyebrows at me with a twinkle in her eye, but the dinner was much less painful that I had expected.

And getting to sit there with Roy’s arm pressed against mine? A dream come true.

My dad cleared his throat as my brothers began clearing the plates. “I think it’s time for presents and cake then?”

I stood up; my arm felt cold after having Roy’s arm keeping it warm. “I’ll be right back, gotta go get your present.” I pressed a kiss on my dad’s head as I passed by. “Don’t embarrass me,” I hissed, giving his shoulder a squeeze. He offered me an assuring wink.

I quickly went up the stairs to my old bedroom, not completely closing the door behind me. Since I was planning to spend all weekend a their house, I had just haphazardly thrown all my things into the room when I had arrived after work. I regretted it now, noting that my idiot brothers could be saying anything to Roy while I searched for the envelope holding my dad’s birthday card and the tickets to Richmond’s next match.

I groaned. “Where the hell-”

“Ah, this isn’t the fucking loo.”

I whirled around. Roy stood in my doorway, eyebrows slightly raised as he glanced around the room. My cheeks burned as I watched him take in all the Richmond posters, which disproportionately featured his bearded face.

He is never going to talk to me again, a panicky voice in my head whimpered.

To my surprise, a small smirk formed on his face as he quietly closed the door behind him. “Why the fuck are there so many pictures of me in this room?” he asked, a chuckle escaping his lips.

I cleared my throat and stood up, straightening out my top as I cursed my teenage self for being so obsessed. “I, uh, I told you. My family’s huge Richmond fans. You’re kind of our favorite player. Hence, my dad’s excitement when he saw you.” I winced. Lame, lame, lame.

“So…” He stuck his hands in his pockets, still looking around the room at the embarrassing number of photos of himself. “Does that mean I’m your favorite too?”

Somehow, my cheeks grew warmer. “I… I mean… I guess.”

His eyes moved upward and widened slightly.

Fuck.

“Is that a fucking poster of me above your bed?”

I shifted my weight, wishing that somehow the carpet beneath me would spontaneously turn into a black hole. “Oh, you know, gotta keep the monsters away somehow.” You’re fired. You are so freaking fired for being a creepy fangirl.

Roy let out a bark of a laugh. “That’s what I’m good for? Scaring away fucking monsters?”

With a groan, I covered my face and collapsed on my bed. “Please don’t tell anyone,” I grumbled. “This was my room when I used to live here, I was a dumb kid. I swear to God, my flat is normal. A normal adult flat.”

The bed squeaked as I felt someone sit beside me. When I peeked out between my fingers, Roy was looking at me with a hint of concern on his face.

“Hey, no need to be fucking embarrassed.” He glanced up at the poster that now laid directly above us. “Can’t say I blame you. I was young and hot.”

Despite my inner anguish, I moved my hands and grinned. “You’re not that much older now, Kent,” I teased.

He raised his eyebrows at me. “I’m still hot then?”

Before I could come up with some clever retort, Roy cupped my face and leaned close. “Please say yes,” he said softly.

I gulped, knowing he could definitely feel it. “Yes,” I whispered.

He gently pressed his lips against mine, a soft, small kiss that made me melt closer to him. His beard tickled my face as his hand stroked my cheek. Roy Kent is kissing me Roy Kent is kissing me Roy Kent is kissing me.

When Roy let go, a tiny giggle escaped my lips. He smiled at me- a real smile, the one I had seen maybe a small handful of times on television over the years. He opened his mouth to say something-

“Oi!” A loud knock banged on the door. “Mum and Dad want to know if you’re snogging Roy Kent in there!”

Roy grinned at me, still holding my face. “Don’t suppose I can tell your brother to fuck off?”

I wrinkled my nose. “’d rather you didn’t,” I whispered.

“Well then.” Roy stood up, stretching out his hand to help me to my feet. “Guess we should go have some fucking cake.” He nodded up towards the poster above my bed. “You should bring that thing to work sometime. I can fucking autograph it if you want.”

#he's here he's there he's every fucking where #roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfic #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent fic #roy kent fluff #ted lasso #ted lasso fic #ted lasso fluff

[littlemisslipbalm]

Keeping Up With You

Josh Kiszka x gn!reader

Summary: “Mornings are meant to be spent with you,” Josh blurts out, nerves obvious in his voice. “Soft rock music playing while I bestow a thousand kisses across your body.” 

Or

A coming back together story

A/N: FLLUFFIEST AND ANGSIEST writing to date. The premise of this fic follows along the lyrics of tommy’s party by peach pit. One of my favorite songs so you should go listen as soon as possible.

Word Count: 8.9k | Warnings: breakup angst, alcohol consumption and weed consumption, swearing probably, ANGST and Happy Ending!

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You were running late. Not for anyone’s fault but your own. You didn’t want to go to Sam’s party, and yet, out of obligation or something like spite, you were dragging yourself there. You loved him and you loved all your friends that you were bound to see, but there was a nagging sense in your stomach that you were going to regret the entire night. 

Maybe it was for liquid courage that you cracked a hard kombucha while you had gotten ready and then took a few (three) shots before stumbling out of your front door to the uber you had called half an hour after the start time of the party that was across town. Sam, like all the rich people in your life, chose to live in the nicest part of town and you couldn’t fault him even if it meant your uber cost an extra 10 dollars for the longer drive than if he had his party at a bar downtown like any civilized adult. 

Walking into the party felt kind of like walking back into high school. Out of place somewhere you already didn’t want to be, searching for a lifeline. You saw the one person you’d probably know the best immediately upon entering. Sam was by the door, yammering about how the house needed more lights to the three unwilling participants in his drunken house tour. You called his name, getting his attention before getting pulled into a sloppy hug. You grinned and yelled over the bass-heavy rock “Happy Birthday, dude!” 

Sam grinned back and yelled that there were drinks in the kitchen and to PLEASE help yourself. You bit your lip and gave two thumbs up to him and the people in his little entourage, before slipping past them to his kitchen, where you planned to help yourself, heavily. 

There were more hard kombuchas sprawled across the countertop that were calling your name until a bottle of semi-decent-looking whiskey tucked in the back of the array of alcohol caught your eye. Scrawled messily across the label in black sharpie was the claim “JAKE’S” and you chuckled to yourself before pouring a double shot of it into the compostable disposable cup you had picked up from the stack at the far end of the counter. If it came to blows with that particular Kiszka, you knew you could take him. 

You added in some root beer to the whiskey after checking that no one was around to see it and gulped at the drink, a little spilling down your chin with the amount of vigor you had used. You needed the alcohol haze on your mind to get heavier before you could face anything more at this party. The lights were dim and the music was thumping, people were talking loudly and laughing louder and you felt impossibly alone. And anxious. 

The unknown hand that descended on your shoulder didn’t help the anxiety, but managed to placate the lonliness. You jumped, sloshing a little bit of your drink before whipping around to scold the owner of said hand. 

“You swipe from my whiskey business, trouble?” Jake inquired with an arched brow. 

Your eyes were wide on his face, before glancing down at your cup and back up to him, a bite of your lip overtaking your face. Guilt. 

Jake’s usual casual smirk that he sported in situations where he was comfortable morphed into a grin. There was a tinge of sadness in his face, but he hoped the smile masked it enough. “Oh, c’mon, you know you can always take from my private collection. You’re the only one who can stomach it besides me, anyway.” He pulls you into a side-hug that is stilted but attempting to be comforting. “Wouldn’t have left it out if I didn’t want you to have some.” 

You tried for a smile and took a sip. He’d left it out, hoping you would show. “Thanks, Jake. Your handwriting is atrocious, by the way.” 

Jake’s smirk returns as he chuckles, his hair falling forward from behind his shoulders. It’s gotten long again since you’d last seen him. You didn’t want to think about the last time you’d seen him. Your eyes cast anxiously to the two entrances to the kitchen, searching and double-checking that no one else had come through the doors to surprise you. 

Jake notices and leans into the countertop with his hip. “I was just about to go light up? Care to join?” He lifts up the joint she hadn’t noticed in his hand before. 

“I don’t know…” You start, unsure why you would decline a chance to be away from the crowd already. Maybe how Jake was staring at you, the way he terribly hid his concern for you. Would he try to ask you how you were really? Weed always made him more earnest. But weed could help you, so long as you kept Jake away from certain talking points. All this going through your mind and what you swore was a certain head of curls pushing through the crowd at the far door of the kitchen made you say, “Uh, sure. Let’s do it.” 

Jake went to say something in the way of how pleased he was, but just a quiet squeak came out when you quickly began to move out of the kitchen and away from the approaching curls. You grabbed Jake’s hand with the joint in it by the wrist and flipped on your heel, leading him out of the kitchen door you had entered through. You weaved through the people in the hallway, towards the closed door to the side yard where the light was off. It was unlocked thankfully and you quickly felt around the exterior wall for a switch you knew was there, before the empty outdoor space was illuminated. The music was muffled once the door was shut and you sat on the measly single concrete step below the door. 

“Sam should really do something with this space,” you mumble, feeling capable of breathing and thinking and living once more. 

Jake shrugged and leaned against the wall, looking down at you and then around the empty side yard. It was an afterthought, but why did you care? He was still trying to catch his breath from the sprint you had just performed to get you out of the house in what seemed like 5 seconds flat. 

“I don’t think I’ve moved that quickly outside of a motorized vehicle in years.” Jake sighed. 

“You should get a Peloton. It’s great.” 

“I work out,” Jake says indignantly. “You just fucking flew, though.” Then he adds. “I didn’t know you had a Peloton.”  

You shuffle your feet, staring at them as they move in no particular pattern. “Yeah…it was a gift.” You cough. “It’s a great stress reliever as well as a workout machine.” 

Jake hums, a wave of realization washes over him as his eyes watch you, clumsily messing with your feet and your free hand. He doesn’t say anything else on the subject, though, and brings the joint to his lips, slipping his shiny silver zippo from his back pocket. It lights and he puffs on the filter. 

There was no breeze tonight. No stars and no moon. It was like the sky had taken the night off–which you weren’t sure was allowed. And yet, there it was, endless black. Your hand expertly took the joint from Jake’s outstretched fingers. 

“I’ve been on a T-break for the last few months,” you say when you hand back the joint. 

Jake raises a brow again as he begins to puff on it again. 

“Well, I said I quit, but here I am getting high, so it must’ve been a T-break.” 

Jake chuckles and coughs a little on the smoke that catches in his throat from his laughter. You grimace in silent apology, accepting the joint back. Jake asks one single question for the remainder of the joint and for that you are grateful, even if it’s one of the worst questions he could’ve asked. After he asks it, he’ll leave you alone, but it’s killing him not to know. Or at least, try to know. You had been such a good friend to him and he missed having you around lately. He knew he couldn’t say that though. It wasn’t his place, but still one measly question couldn’t hurt. 

He was lucky you were feeling so light and airy from the weed when he asked. If he had tried the question when you had first arrived or when he found you in the kitchen, you’re pretty sure you would’ve turned tail and run home crying. 

“How are you really doing?” He inquires. 

“I’m really high.” You laugh. 

Jake sits beside you and turns his head, holding the joint out to the ground for ash to fall and the weed to burn with no lips around it to inhale the smoke. He says your name once and you know he’s serious. 

You sigh and stick your legs out straight in front of you, your skirt flattens across your thighs nicely but you smooth your hands across it anyway and then grab at your drink beside you to take a sip. It’s almost empty. You look in his eyes for a moment and there’s that sadness and concern again. 

“Did not want to come.” You say and Jake nods. “Came. For Sam.” You clarify and Jake nods again. “I know I’ll see him eventually. It’s fine. I’m fine.” 

Jake nods and pats a hand gingerly on your shoulder and you grimace at your lap. He was trying so hard to navigate a difficult situation and you admired his courage. 

“Thank you, Jake. For the smoke.” You say and pause, mustering your courage to just blurt it out. You stare at the wooden fence across from you. “And for being my friend, still. You’re a good guy.” 

Jake shakes his head and pokes out the joint, not interested in smoking it anymore. “And you are too. A good friend…who deserves happiness.” 

Your lips spread into a smile and you look at Jake in the eye for a moment before knocking your forehead against his own shoulder. Something you always appreciated about Jake was his ability to understand non-verbal communication. He allowed you to do that and understand it was you thanking him. Even if you couldn’t say more on the topic. He knew. 

Jake blew out a breath after a moment, “Jesus, fuck, I’m high as shit.” 

You giggle and it feels louder and sillier than anything you’d done all night. Oh fuck. “Yeah. I think I am too. Good stuff.” 

“Josh’s,” Jake mumbles, moving to crawl back to standing, he needed water. “Sorry.” He mumbled with widened eyes when he realized the word, the name, that had left his mouth. 

You roll your eyes and hold your arms out for Jake to help you stand. “He’s not some super-villain. Just my ex and your twin. You can say his name.” 

Your eyes matched Jake’s red and droopy eyes as you stared at each other once he brought you to standing, both of you taking in each other’s state. It’s tense and quiet, the thumping music heavy at the door. 

You keep your hands in Jake’s, enjoying his warm caloused hands. So much like someone else’s, yet so different. “Do we have to go back in?” 

“I mean…” Jake looked down his nose at you. His voice dropped lower to a raspy almost-whisper. “We should probably go back. Right?”

You smile lazily at Jake and then drop his eye contact, looking at your feet, how close the two of you were standing, and then taking a step back. He was giving you the option, but you both knew there was only one right answer. 

“Back inside it is.” You add a laugh to try to not sound too bleak. “To face the gallows.” 

“I still think you’d make it as a comedian, trouble,” Jake adds. 

The tension dissipates. Whatever crack in the wall that was there, a tiny possibility that could’ve grown if you wanted, was patched over and covered. Forgotten. You and Jake were friends. A lot of shared history and a lot of understanding, but it was better this way. 

“My one man show,” you say, shaking off the memories of when it was a duo act. You and Josh loved a good bit and would drag them out as long as you could, staying in character for entire nights out or, once, an entire week during a family vacation. “I’m good, man.” You reassure Jake when he looks at you concerned again, with his hand on the door handle. 

The music grows louder but is more muffled than before as the weed and alcohol successfully contain you in their all consuming bubble. You were thankful for the moment to gather yourself and to remind you that facing Josh might not be all that horrible. You could do anything when stoned, this was something you truly believed especially when the high was in its starting area, when you were first plunged into the strange warm fuzzy place in your brain. 

Jake’s hand on your back pushed you through the crowd and you heard the words “refill” and “water” leave his lips so you began to wander towards the kitchen again. Once back, you’re mildly disappointed to see it’s not empty. It’s not crowded, there’s just three other small groups of twos and threes getting refills or lingering after having gotten their refills. The night was progressing, meaning more inebriation caused more plans to be forgotten half way through. Expert missions of moving from one area of the house to the next were abandoned when the roadmaps slipped from the de facto leader of the small groups’ brain when they had another sip of their drink of choice. You knew because you used to come to parties like these with groups.

Now you were a lone shark, or maybe just the remora to Jake’s lone shark, attaching yourself to him, just along for the ride as he made the decisions. He expertly slipped past the huddled groups without interactions, just nods of chin and his smirk. You noticed some of the whispers and shared looks from some of the people in those groups as you passed by, but chose to believe they were about how handsome and mysterious Jake was and not how you were with him. 

Jake looked between the faucet and the cups he had forgotten were at the end of the counter, debating whether he would go back for one or not. Shaking his head after a moment of weighted silence, he opened the cupboard to the right of the sink and grabbed one of Sam’s precious souvenir pint glasses and filled it with water. You watched in mild awe that Jake did not fear his little brother’s annoying nagging if caught and desire for water to touch your cotton-mouth-y, well, mouth. 

Jake stuck the glass under the faucet again and refilled it before holding it out towards you and you smiled. Accepting the glass, you turned it in your hand, observing the etching of Snoopy and Woodstock dressed as chefs holding a gigantic sandwich with the word ‘Philadelphia’ in red bold letters above them. Sam was weird, but you respected his collection. You’d even gifted him a ‘San Francisco’ one for Christmas a couple years ago with Snoopy and the Peanuts dressed up for a Giants game. 

You sipped at the water and let it wash into the various pockets of your mouth before swallowing, humming in satisfaction. “Good stuff.” You repeated.

“Only the best.” Jake responds. “Whiskey time?” 

He doesn’t wait for your answer since you're drinking more of the water. He picks up your abandoned cup and his own and snatches his whiskey from behind the more popular liquors: grey goose vodka in multiple flavors besides the classic, a few okay gins and tequila–tons of it. 

You take the cup filled with whiskey straight and you grimace. You weren’t in the mood to drink much more, feeling plenty fucked up, and you definitely weren’t in the mood to stomach whiskey on its own. You do an obligatory cheers motion with Jake and pretend to take a sip. 

“I forgot to tell you,” Jake suddenly says with a burst of energy and you widen your eyes, startled. “We’re doing a set later.” 

“What?” 

“Sam wants to, for his birthday. Have a jam sesh.” Jake shrugs and slips his phone out of his coat pocket, checking the time. “Honestly should probably check the setup, make sure no one trampled the gear. C’mon.” 

You would think professional musicians would want a break from their job for their birthdays, but these guys loved it so much it was hard to keep them away. Plus, knowing Sam, he’d probably insisted on choosing the set list, making Jake and Josh take a reluctant backseat to what they would play. Were you intrigued? Yes. Completely and utterly apprehensive to watch Josh perform? Double yes.

You followed Jake out of the kitchen and through the bodies in the living room towards the open French doors leading to the patio and backyard. Sam had a temporary stage set up at the back of the yard that no one was standing on or messing with besides Danny who was checking his drum kit was okay already. Everything on the stage was secondary personal stuff, none of it their expensive favorites, but it still wouldn’t be great if any of it got wrecked. 

A boisterous and booming laugh took your eyes off of Danny and made you fall out of step with Jake. Right beside the stage was Josh, grin plastered across his face and beer can sloshing haphazardly as he swung his arms wide as he regaled his small group with a big important story he dramatized to be even grander than it had been. 

Your eyes scanned the group surrounding him, focusing hard to make out the faces in the dim light as you tried to keep walking, following blindly behind Jake who was pausing at the edge of the stage on the opposite end from Josh. You swallow hard and debate taking another sip of the whiskey, but decide it won’t help. Your legs finally bring you to standing awkwardly beside, but slightly behind, Jake as he talks with Danny. You positioned yourself to be slightly in Jake’s shadow unintentionally. 

Danny greets you and your eyes flicker to him for a moment before returning to Josh, just a few feet from you now, but he still hasn’t seen you. You mumble a ‘hi’ and Jake explains for you that you were likely on a different planet from the joint you had shared. You nodded perfunctorily and then stuck your cup into Jake’s chest. 

“I can’t drink this,” you say, barely above a whisper, still watching Josh. 

He was winding down from the story, you could tell. His audience was enraptured, with one particular girl close by his side that you didn’t recognize. She was grinning, shiny and bright as she watched Josh in all his inebriated glory. In his element. Entertaining. It was magic to be so close to him in those moments, how it felt spiritual when he caught your eye inches away. How his teeth seemed to smile just for you when he placed his hand on your shoulder. 

And there it was. Josh rested his arm around the beautiful girl’s shoulders, palm pressing her closer to him as he laughed and grinned. She smiled at him and you swore you saw him wink. It was drunken and dopey, but you saw it. 

You hadn’t felt Jake take the cup from your grasp, but your hand fell to your side, now empty. Danny and Jake followed your eyeline and then met each other’s eyes and frowned a little. 

“How about you sit right here?” Jake huddled you towards a lawn chair that was close to the stage, but against the house wall so no one would bump into it. 

“So I get a front row seat to it all?” You mumble miserably. 

“Here,” Danny says, passing his hyrdroflask from behind the drum kit to Jake, who hands it to you, flipping the mouthpiece open and instructing you to drink. 

You should’ve left once you could feel your legs again, but you couldn’t stop staring. Thankfully, Josh hadn’t noticed. You probably would’ve died on the spot if he had caught your intense eye. Instead he gives the girl a squeeze and mumbles something into her ear. She laughs loudly and stumbles on her feet a little as she steps back from him. Josh turns towards the stage and clambers onto the top of it. If it wasn’t clear to you before, his lack of agility cemented it. He was close to belligerent, but holding himself together well. 

It would be laughable when he almost tilts over right after he’s stood upright finally, but you’re not the person who can find that funny anymore without seeming cruel. Instead, you decide to take a sip of Danny’s water and shut your eyes, tilting your head back against the wall, hoping to ride out the rest of this night in a strange detached state. If no one spoke to you for the rest of the night you would be happy. 

You willed away the disparate images passing behind your shut eyelids. A different reality your mind had conjured up specifically to torture you it seemed. Where you were beside Josh just then and the two of you had tumbled up onto the stage. First you guide his hips up and then he pulls you up after him, the pair of you happily and drunkenly falling over one another, tangling yourselves up into a few cables in the process. You two were laughing through it all and then Josh would stop and smile the smile that was just for you, a special gleam of love in his eyes you’d grown used to. He’d cup your cheeks between his palms and pull your face to his, a big blistering kiss bestowed upon your lips quieting your own laughter. It would lead you to falling deeper into love with the man who really saw you and forgetting where you were. And then the boys would holler at the pair of you and you’d hide your face in Josh’s jacket before he’d help you up, with a pat to your bum before you inevitably made it back to the seat you were in now. 

No. Now there was only this chair. And a borrowed water bottle to touch your lips. Fuck. You moved your mind to your escape plan. 

The music would start soon anyway and then you could probably slip out to call an uber after a few songs. You heard Sam join the rest of the band on the wooden stage a few minutes later, his long legs thumping as he jumped up onto the stage and his drunken voice louder and whinier as he asked Danny to check his bass for him, since he was the birthday boy. 

You peek out of one eye, too amused to miss the visuals of this exchange and see Danny shaking his head and muttering under his breath as he picks up Sam’s bass. Sam is smiling triumphantly with his hands on his hips, tapping his foot impatiently like the prince he was. Then your eyes slide to the right and see Jake and Josh huddled around Jake’s amp. 

Just close your eyes. But you can’t. 

Josh is all antsy. He’s waving his hands about and rocking Jake’s shoulders. Jake’s murmuring words below his breath trying to placate whatever situation his twin seems to be troubled by. You know it’s wrong to strain your ears to hear the conversation but you can’t help it. 

“…just aren’t really my thing.” You catch the end of Josh’s slurred sentence. He’s still grinning as he complains.

Jake shakes his head. “They’re Sam’s thing since it’s Sam’s birthday.”

“I know we agreed to it but can’t we just, I don’t know, not?” 

Jake laughed a little and tried to hide it with a cough, his eyes sliding to you for a quick moment. “Josh, it’s like 5 songs.”

“I’m slammed, man,” Josh stumbles on his footing, adding to his case accidentally.

“Just sing the choruses and then hit some high notes. He wants to jam anyway, you’re not on frontman duty tonight.” 

“Oh please, Jake. I’m always on frontman—“ Josh’s train of thought runs off the tracks when his eyes finally catch yours. 

You freeze. You weren’t moving anyway but you freeze all the same. Blood runs cold. Spine rigid. You don’t know how to breathe and you were right. You are going to die. 

Josh is frozen too and Jake watches it unfold. Both of your faces were completely open with the pain. You could see it around the eyebrows and the lips and how it swelled through the irises of your eyes as you looked at one another. 

Someone smashing a beer can followed by the electric thrum of a bassline makes you bring your free hand up in the air. It’s supposed to be a wave as it travels to the height of your head and then loses momentum, pausing for a moment as Josh’s eyes flicker to the movement before it falls again. 

You drop your gaze to your lap while Josh stays on you. His similarly intense gaze burns you. He wants to come talk to you even though he has absolutely no idea what he’d say to you anyway. His feet even begin to lurch towards the end of the stage nearest you, but Jake pulls him back. 

That succession of chords on Sam’s bass was his signal that he wanted to get the jam session started. It was followed by a verbal announcement from the birthday boy as well.

“Everyone come outside now. It’s time to hear me play sweet sweet music for you.” Sam says into the mic before handing it off to Josh.

Josh looks over at you one more time but you make sure your eyes are anywhere else on the stage but his face. He licks his lips and swaggers to center stage. 

“Friends and family, loved and loathed ones, day trippers and moonbeam chasers,” Josh pauses for the roar of the crowd. Smaller than their concerts, obviously, but still spirited for the size of this party. “What a glorious fucking night to celebrate the birth of the youngest Kiszka.” 

Maybe Danny expected Josh to say more because there’s a pause before the drum kicks in. Josh turns on his heel to face Danny and signals him to start. Danny counts them in and Jake walks them into a perfect cover of “The Lemon Song.” 

Josh hated doing Led Zeppelin covers but Sam loved the bassline on this song. He’d been obsessed with it when he first started playing and Jake enjoyed the guitar on it too. So here Josh was, proving every critic correct that he could sound just like Robert Plant. Jake shredded away on Jimmy’s solo chords and then lowered his amp for an extended moment to give Sam a proper bass solo. And Josh admittedly got into the song, feeling the vibrations through his chest, getting lost on stage. 

They transitioned straight into “Cold Cold Cold” and “Feel Good Inc.” Both with heavy basslines. Josh liked these two because he got to use his tambourine in the first and had few words in the second. He also skipped a lot of the words in the songs, not knowing them, but holding the microphone towards the crowd, telling them to sing along when it was the chorus or popular parts of them. 

Then they took a break. Normally Josh might joke around. Tell a story about Sam when he was a weird little kid. Instead, he just took a swig from his beer beside the unutilized mic stand and talked in Jake’s ear until Sam signaled he was ready to continue. He had moved to the keyboard he had also brought out for the evening. 

“This one’s a little on the nose but, hey, what little bro wants, little bro gets.” 

Josh started singing the first verse of “I’m going to be a teenage idol” and you grimaced. You loved Elton John and if you thought more highly of yourself you would’ve thought Josh’s reluctance to sing this song was because it reminded him of you. 

He tritely pointed to himself when he sang “it kind of makes me feel like a rock and roll star.” He paced around the stage, continuously sweeping his hands towards Sam as he expertly played the hard keys for the song. He sipped at his beer and belted one of the later verses with a passion that masked what you knew was sadness. Josh was a professional, so he knew how to keep his shit together even when he was drunk, but he wanted off this stage and you knew it. 

Then the song ended. Your eyes watching Josh’s demeanor shift. “Thankfully this one isn’t…or is it?” 

“Psycho Killer” started up and you couldn’t help the laugh that came past your lips. You pressed your hand to your mouth, feeling like you were betraying yourself. Josh hadn’t looked your way since they had started but somehow either his trained ear heard that or he had some psychic sense, because he stared at you again, faltering on the classic song’s lyrics. 

Given the conversation you eavesdropped on, you weren’t sure if they had planned to play “Happiness is a Warm Gun” but they transitioned into it seamlessly from the last so they didn’t stop and Josh knew all the words. You two had listened to the Beatles’ white album countless times together. It was your favorite of theirs. You’d put it on all the time with Josh and he’d happily listen along, always acquiescing to your arguments about it even though he preferred Let It Be. On lazy Sunday mornings when you never got out of bed until dinner time. On the road, for tour or for road-trips you’d take together up to the cabin or little Airbnbs you’d found in cool spots. 

This wasn’t your song though and for that you were thankful. You might’ve thrown up if for some reason Sam had added that to the setlist. You might’ve found a way to time travel and kill Paul McCartney before he could add a bassline to that song if that would’ve stopped that. You’d give up the existence of that song before Josh sang it in front of a small crowd where you weren’t the one he was singing it for anymore.  

Again, your imagination was running wild tonight. Seeing Josh’s beautiful face brought back every memory you had with him. The last few years had been the best years of your life. Meaning that these past few months have been the hardest of your life. Half the time you weren’t even sure if it was life anymore.

So many memories were from nights just like tonight, but he wouldn’t be some distant figure causing building anxiety as you steal glances at one another from across the yard. You used to be the one keeping up with him, telling stories together and getting drunk to aid in your fun rather than to run away from your hangups. Stealing kisses and sneaking off to empty hallways or plain taking off early to be alone together again. 

You couldn’t help getting lost in the sound of Jake making the guitar riffs his own, the velvet of Josh’s voice and how all four of them meshed their instruments so expertly, making any song something special. Your eyes had shut and you were swaying in your seat to the music. Loving it. This piece of connection could never be severed. All your silly feelings forgotten for one blissful moment before the music came to an abrupt and cruel end. 

Sam took the mic from Josh who almost let it carelessly fall to the floor. “Thank you all for coming! Love you guys!” Sam quickly called before being pulled off the stage by his girlfriend who was eager to make out with her man. 

You grimaced. You knew how she felt. Goddamnit. 

Josh doesn’t immediately come up to you. Not that you were hoping for that. You actually were dreading the moment when you two finally spoke again. You two hadn’t had much contact since the breakup, so your last verbal conversation had been about you picking up the rest of your stuff from his place in December. Over the phone. You still had a key so you came when he was out. 

You pinched the bridge of your nose and sat forward, willing those memories to stay put in the locked cabinet you were never going to revisit. Leaving seemed like a good idea now. You’d paid your birthday dues, shown up and even stayed for the show. Slipping off seemed ideal. You just needed to return Danny’s water bottle to him. 

He was still at the bandstand, in front of his drum kit with Jake and another guy from their work, Brian (you think). You stood, feeling a little better but still pretty high given your major break from the drug prior to tonight. You blinked a few times, double checking that none of the guys in the small huddle transformed into Josh suddenly before you got to them. 

Jake gave you a hand up onto the stage and you thanked him, before handing Danny his water and thanking him for it as well. He reassures you that it was his pleasure and then he thanked you for leaving him water in it. He was a wonder to you and you smiled genuinely at his kindness. You missed him. You missed all of them. 

You rocked on your heels and fidgeted your hands to rest on your hips. “Well, I’m gonna head out I think. This was plenty for me and my old self.” You proclaim when the conversation lulls. 

Jake nods, not even trying to get you to stay, whereas Maybe Brian protests, saying the night was still young. Danny shoots him a look with a subtle head shake and you smile at your feet. These guys still had your back and for that you were grateful. You hugged Danny and told him to tell Sam goodbye for you in case you didn’t bump into him on your way out. As you were leaning into Jake’s warm side for the second time tonight, a voice interrupts the farewells. 

“Dan, have you seen my elf–” Josh stops talking again, eyes widening on your face. 

You don’t freeze this time, immediately dropping away from Jake. It wasn’t wrong, but you also couldn’t face Josh while touching his twin. Josh must have missed you within the group, hidden among the taller men. 

“Hey, I was just leaving,” You say, your voice quivering a little with nerves, barely aware of what you were saying. 

“Hello,” Josh slurs after a weighted moment. His eyes slid along your face and down your entire body, as if they had been starved of you since he’d last looked at you. He looks away, back to Danny. “I think, perhaps, I left it in the kitchen. Thanks Daniel.” He flips on his heel and wanders off. 

You can’t help but watch him go. It’s not your fault your eyeline is directly aligned with where the girl from earlier is positioned right next to the door to inside. Or that you catch how he pulls her back into his side and she laughs at whatever he has said just for her. It was right in front of you. What were you supposed to do? Tear your eyeballs out? Now that’s a thought. 

His bright mustard jacket eventually disappears between the various bodies and his hair is obscured by the dim lights in the house. He’s gone, laughing with her just like you two used to.

“Well, if that’s not my cue,” You let the silence that follows finish your thought for you. 

Jake apologizes for Josh and you tell him it’s not necessary. Really. It’s been five months. It was mutual. If anything it was you who initiated it. If Josh can’t speak to you or if he’s seeing someone new. That’s just fine. Fine. So fine. 

Your uber takes you home and you don’t cry. You don’t let yourself. Something possesses you in the morning to type out an email though. You’re not sure why you don’t just send a text. The email feels less personal, less intimate than a text. Less risky. And somehow more private. It was almost like sending a letter, which you used to send Josh on occasion–of course, those were love letters. 

Hey there bud… You look at the words and almost throw your computer out of the window. Bud? Bud!? You couldn’t write anything else though, anything less was too little, too strange, anything more, like his name, was too intimate, too much. 

How’d it go last night?

Your love letters used to read like poetry and you guessed this was kind of like that, but it wasn’t a love letter. You still could just save it as a draft and never send it after all. 

I saw you at the bandstand looking pretty slammed. You used the exact word Josh had described himself last night. It had been repeating in your mind all night. Did you see me feeding my drink to Jake? Probably not I guess, you were quite the mess. And that girl who tagged along there with you, I never caught her name, but she seemed fucked up too. 

You read it over and thought that it was maybe too harsh. But it was the truth. You needed to get it off your chest. He hadn’t let you talk last night so you wanted to share your night with him now even if you hadn’t gotten to last night. 

From where I sat, she looked to be havin’ fun, keeping up with you just like I used to. 

How’d it go last night? I’m sorry to have ditched out but I was pretty high. Heard from Danny that on his stumble home, Jake was puking up all the shit he’d drunk. 

Though we didn’t talk much, how’d your evening go? You barely spoke a word to me, besides that slurred “Hello”... I happened to see without even trying, how she laughed with you just like I used to. 

You were rambling, you couldn’t get it all out. But you cut yourself off. That was all you could say. So you read it over about five more times and changed a few commas and added spacing and you wondered if Josh would think you had gone off the deep end with this one. Your first form of communication with him in months. By e-mail for some reason. 

The thought of not sending it crossed your mind a few more times before you took a breath and hovered the mouse over the ‘Send’ button. Finally clicking it when you finished the exhale. You wanted him to know. 

-

When Josh woke up, close to noon with an awful hangover and an unfamiliar bed, he groaned and covered his face when the headache pounded against his skull harder. 

“Fuck my life,” he murmured. He rolled from his back to his side, his legs swinging to tether him to the carpeted floor. Where the fuck was he?

“You’re awake!” The girl popped her head in, her hair wet from the shower she had just taken. “Do you want breakfast? Or coffee?”

“Uh…” Josh stared at his feet, wiggling his toes to remind him of reality. “No, I should go home.”

She smiles, sporting her best look, as if last night hadn’t emotionally wrecked her like it had Josh. That actually made sense. “Yeah. See you again soon?” 

“Yeah. I’ll call you…” Josh reassures, beginning to put his pants on. His words were an afterthought as he pieced together last night's events. “Have fun at your ceramics class today!”

He shuffled out of the door just as she responded, towel still messing with her tips. “It’s painting!”

Josh mumbled his apologies as he walked down the street hoping that his car would pop up among the different vehicles parked on the street. He definitely hadn’t driven there after the party but maybe he had brought his car to her place beforehand. He was still working through the night. And his mind was focused on all the moments where you had popped up. 

He’d seen you disappear out of the kitchen with his brother. He’d seen you next to the bandstand a couple times and then he’d seen you when he’d drunkenly asked Danny if he’d seen his elfbar. Could he be more of an idiot? He rubbed at his pained forehead again as he looked up and down the street once more before deciding that he hadn’t driven his car to this woman’s house. 

They’d gone out on a couple of dates, set up by mutual friends that were closer with her than Josh but he was trying and he wanted to try. Even if all he really wanted to do was call you and beg you to forget about the last few months. 

Too focused on making it home and one to always dismiss his email notifications, Josh didn’t notice the message from you until he had made it home and successfully made himself a pot of coffee and had a necessary shower, leaving him in his sweatpants and curled up in his bed that used to be shared, ‘ours’. 

His phone had been charging so he unplugged it and rolled to the other side of the bed, which he still felt guilty for. Like you’d walk through the door any moment and playfully grumble at him for being a bed hog. 

Complete privacy and total boredom eventually made him check his e-mail. He might have a package coming after all, he couldn’t remember, and his headache had mostly cleared away but looming anxieties nagged at him. He couldn’t keep getting drunk and hooking up with his casual flings. It was going to catch up with him and he knew it. He just hated to admit it.

Your name on his screen was especially sobering. He had longed for it to pop up. Preferably in a phone call or text format, asking to meet up and talk over everything one more time that actually leads to you getting back together. But hey, he’d settle for an e-mail at this point. Because that is what he had received. 

He took a deep breath and allowed his hovering thumb to click down on it. It was your poem/accusation and he read it over and over double checking that it was indeed your words and not lyrics from a song or someone else. No, he recognized your voice in the words and how you phrased it. The ‘hey there bud’ made him laugh. You were so weird. He missed it. 

All the love letters were in his side table drawer still. Maybe it would’ve been healthier to move them to a box not so close to where he slept, but he couldn’t bear it. You used to post them from around town so that they could get sent to the house you both lived in. It sent him over the moon whenever he recognized your handwriting of his name on the front of a piece of mail and you’d giggle behind your cup of coffee, slyly slinking off to let him read it in private. 

After he’d finish reading, he’d wander the house until he found you and press kisses all over your face while he repeated confessions of love, over and over while you shrieked and laughed at his attack of love.  

This e-mail made him sad, but also hopeful. He was going to reply. 

Hey there…How’d last night go for you? I know when I saw you at the bandstand, I said I was slammed to Jake. Did you overhear or is that just some strange coincidence? I probably should’ve given some of my drinks away. I was quite the mess, you’re right. 

And the girl…she’s a part of the mistakes I’ve been making since the break up. I’m sorry you had to see that. And I’m sorry all I said was Hello. I didn’t know what to say…as you could probably tell. Josh smiled down at his phone, your eyes had been so wide with surprise upon seeing him up so close. The look on your face had been a dagger to his heart, twisting deeper when you said you were heading out. 

I was thinking back just the other day, remember when we used to sneak out late to go and blaze after everyone else at the party had gone home or passed out? 

Seems like loneliness is all we’ll ever do now. At least for me. Maybe you weren’t lonely, I don’t want to assume. I was surrounded by people all night, these past four months too, and I’ve never felt more alone. 

I’m glad you messaged me. I’m sorry I didn’t do it first. He wondered if he should add the next piece. Was it wrong? Should he leave it at that. The stabbing pain in his chest returned and he wanted to be brave for you. Just for the chance, you could shoot him down but he’d know that he’d tried. I’ve been going to a new coffee place downtown. Northside CoffeeHouse. I think you’d like it. They make the cinnamon rolls just the way you like. 

Josh swallowed hard and sent the email before he could think too hard about it. He hoped he wasn’t being presumptuous that you would remember his routine. Coffee out on weekends usually between 9 and 10. 

You read over the email that came through from Josh a few times. His mention of loneliness made your heart sink, you hated to think of Josh carrying a pain like yours. The thought kind of hurt more than your own heartbreak. 

You knew what he was saying with his mention of the coffeeshop. Tomorrow he’d probably be there if you went when he used to. Josh was secretly a creature of habit despite advocating for chaos most of the time. 

Josh arrived at Northside at 9 am sharp, just in case you came on the early side. He patiently waited in the line for coffee and took a seat by the window. He checked his phone every few minutes, confused why time suddenly moved so slow. 

He remembered the first coffee date you had gone on with him. You both had been late so he should’ve known then that you were the one for him. He showed up twenty minutes late (ten by accident and then an extra ten getting apology flowers) and you ran in five minutes later, out of breath, apologizing that you were so late. Josh was overjoyed to tell you he’d also been late and was so extremely worried about you not being there when he’d arrive. He picked up the flowers on the table and handed them to you, shyly explaining he’d gotten extra late grabbing these and you’d laughed, glancing between the plants and the strangely bashful guy in front of you. You’d been hooked ever since. 

You had been introduced to Josh when you had gotten invited to tagalong with a work friend to a VIP section of a concert series in Nashville. Josh and his brothers had been there and somehow your friend had run into them a few times at stuff like this. You hadn’t initially realized Josh was hitting on you as you talked the evening away with him about all things music and your very different jobs so you were surprised when he asked you out on the coffee date, but you hadn’t declined. Afterall, he was Josh. 

The rest, as they say, is history. Much to your chagrin. You replayed that first date over and over as you paced up and down the cross street for the coffee shop you assumed Josh was now waiting for you at. 

With a single white Peruvian lily clutched in your hand, you finally turned the corner and marched yourself into the coffee shop. You didn’t look in the windows, you were too focused on getting yourself through the door so you had to look around the room for Josh after entering. Your hand was holding so tightly to the flower’s stem you worried you’d break it if you didn’t set it down soon.  

His back was facing you, he’d been looking down the other side of the street and had no idea you’d entered as he was beginning to resign himself to the fact that maybe you didn’t want to see him. It was almost 10 am when you arrived. 

“Josh,” you sigh, hand touching his shoulder as you turn to face them. 

He looks up and the smile on his face almost brings tears to your eyes. It’s the one you’ve missed so much. You can’t help the frown that it brings to your face as you will away the tears. 

“Hey, hey, don’t cry,” Josh says, standing to hug you because he knew your facial expressions by heart too. 

You laugh and the stem in your hand finally snaps at his touch. It’s too much. Josh pulls back and looks down at your hand and laughs for a different reason. He motions to the table and your eyes sweep the two empty coffee cups he must have drank waiting for you, his phone and a bouquet of the very same flower, just like the ones he’d given you three and a half years ago. 

“Can I go order you something?” Josh asks softly. “I didn’t want to order the cinnamon roll until you got here. I wanted it to still be warm.” 

You bite your lip. He was still so sweet and thoughtful. You laugh again and nod your head. He knew you needed a moment to ground yourself so he let you have some time to yourself. He walked to the counter and ordered what you always got and a cinnamon roll to share. 

You placed your broken flower with his bouquet, your hands ran gently over the pearly petals, careful not to cause any dents or creases. After studying them, you feel a little less overwhelmed and you lift your head to watch Josh. He’s paying with cash and you’re endeared how he still clumsily handles the coins despite how often he likes to pay with physical money. 

He thanks the barista who was now very accustomed to Josh, considering it was his third time up at the counter in the last hour. You smile sheepishly at Josh as he smooths his palms down his khakis, coming back to you. 

Your conversation is stilted while he waits for his name to be called. He doesn’t want to get into the nitty gritty when he knows there’s an impending interupter. You thank him for the flowers and apologize for your broken attempt. 

He smiles down at the baker's dozen of flowers. “I like it. Here.” His fingers delicately move the broken pieces back into place and then moves your single flower into the center of the bouquet. “It’s all patched up now.” 

You smile and meet his eyes, knowing the Josh metaphor he was trying to obviously make. His name is called saving you from saying more on the subject for the moment. He hands you your drink and places one fork facing you and one facing him on the edge of the cinnamon roll’s box. You thank him again and he hushes you, saying you didn’t need to keep thanking him. 

You quiet as you try the treat. Josh watches your reaction with barely contained glee, knowing you’d loved it. You had missed this feeling. This feeling of someone knowing you so well. How Josh took care of you and how, in return, you took care of him. You grinned, reassuring him that yes it was great. 

You quiet down again about the food. Josh and you smile at one another and it feels like nothing has changed. You want to believe it. 

“Mornings are meant to be spent with you,” Josh blurts out, nerves obvious in his voice. “Soft rock music playing while I bestow a thousand kisses across your body.” 

“There’s the Josh I know,” you tease but you’re beaming at him. 

Flashes of the mornings he was referencing came to mind. 

Josh curled around you or you curled around Josh, Velvet Underground and Grateful Dead records on. Sunlight filtering across the floral sheets you’d bought for him as a welcome back from tour present after Dreams in Gold. Smooth skin against skin as Josh presses kisses to your forehead and yours against his sternum. He’s laughing when you tickle him and you laugh too, happy to be keeping up with him. Just like you used to. 

-

lmk what you think!

taglist: @ofthecaravel @malany-gvf @whiterosekiszka @jaketlove @sinarainbows @gretavanfreaky

#josh kiskza fanfic #josh kiszka fic #josh kiszka x reader #josh kiszka x y/n #josh kiszka x you #josh kiszka fanfiction #josh kiszka fluff #josh kiszka angst #greta van fic #greta van fluff #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet x reader #greta van fleet imagine

[omnomnomdomcaps]

Louder than Words

Yet another remastered story, everyone! And yes, I'm still here. - ONND

***

Ann stared in vain at the screen in front of her, lingering on the clock in the corner. She had told her boss - the firebrand lawyer that she aspired to be like - that she could have her report done by Monday morning, and yet for the past three hours she had accomplished absolutely nothing. It was as if a fog had set over her, and she knew exactly who to blame.

In one furious motion, the diminutive blonde rose from her seat, stomped through her apartment hallway as loudly as her five-foot frame could, stopped, and pointed, as sharply and as angrily as her finger was capable of pointing.

“YOU!” she bellowed, her face bright red.

“Yes?” Richard, her boyfriend, turned in his swivel, utterly unfazed, resting his hands in his lap as he looked up at his fuming visitor.

“Don’t play dumb with me!” the girl bellowed, “Your stupid fucking hypnosis bullshit has been messing with my head all night, and I’ll remind you that I have a lot of work to do.”

“My… stupid hypnosis?” he repeated softly, raising an eyebrow, “But… I thought that hypnosis didn’t do anything?”

“Oh shut up, smartass,” Ann barked, “it doesn’t. But all your yammering on about figuring out the trigger” - she added air quotes as she mocked - “and how revolutionary you seem to think this bullshit is has been giving me a fucking headache, and now I can’t focus on my goddamn work.”

“My oh my,” the man shook his head in his seat, “such rude words. As I said before, I’m quite proud of this new file, and I’m very appreciative that you would let me test it out on you. I just thought you should know that it’s trigger-based, in case that helps you manage it. After twenty-four hours, I’ll be happy to remove it if you just ask, but I need to collect a few observations first.”

“I don’t need you to remove shit,” she snarled, “It doesn’t do anything, and I wish you’d stop wasting your time on it. Just tell me what the stupid trigger is or whatever, so I can focus on more important things. Christ.”

“Oh, but where’s the fun in that?” Richard smiled, “Besides, if the file really isn’t doing anything, then it’d seem to me that you just need a simple distraction. So why don’t you take your mind off work a few minutes, hmmm? Relax a little?”

Ann growled, but eventually released her pointing hand and exhaled. She wasn’t one to admit it, but perhaps, she thought, he was right - a simple distraction was what she needed.

The girl left her boyfriend’s office and made her way to the kitchen, where she quickly came upon some lingering plates and cutlery from the night’s dinner. Once more, she took a deep breath, before taking a sponge and turning on the faucet, immersing herself in a simple, productive task to clear the fog in her head.

And within just a few moments, that fog seemed to start to clear. The girl felt calmer and more at ease, and didn’t even show annoyance when a familiar face came in to join her.

“Aww, thank you!” her boyfriend remarked, “You didn’t have to do that. Maybe I can help?”

“I can handle it myself,” she said without turning, “but thanks.”

Indeed, it seemed she was almost done with the work anyway, only one plate left to scrub off and place into the couple’s dishwasher. But then, that plate slipped from her hands.

In a moment of sudden panic, Ann scrambled to regain a grip on the wide dinner plate, her wet fingers grasping madly at the air over the sink. Finally, she was able to regain a hold, but it came at such an awkward angle that she ended up diverting the full pour of the faucet towards her body, blasting her with such force that she had to drop the ceramic into the basin below.

The plate shattered into pieces, and Ann just stood there, trying to make sense of what had just happened, and what had come of it. She was drenched - the burst of water had reached her face, her t-shirt, and the front of her pants. As her boyfriend stepped calmly in front of her, turning off the sink and beginning to collect the shattered remains of the plate, the girl erupted once again in frustration.

“Fucking seriously!?” she yelled out, “Why the fuck did you have to distract me again? I was finally starting to fucking relax and you had to get up behind me and…”

“Whoa there now,” he gestured, as if trying to rein in a horse, “no need for that kind of hostility. I’ll just take care of the little mess here, and I think you should probably focus on getting yourself cleaned up?”

Again the girl growled, balling up fists as she walked away. Part of her wanted to keep arguing, but she knew there would be nothing to gain. Plus, she knew he was right - she needed to get herself cleaned up. Her shirt was sopping wet, and the stain on her pants had soaked her underwear as well.

As she changed herself out into dry clothes in their bedroom, Richard once again came to join, tapping her ajar door before peering in.

“You gonna be alright changing yourself there, babe? Maybe I should get you something a little more absorbent, in case you have another little mishap?”

“Real funny,” she rolled her eyes, “I can keep my pants dry just fine, as long as someone doesn’t keep distracting me. Now could you please leave me alone?”

“Alright, alright,” he acquiesced, and walked away.

Ann, dressed in a fresh set of clothes, took several deep breaths to try to calm herself down, hoping that she might be able to focus enough to get her work done. But as she stared again into the screen, she found herself again veering away from her task. She played games, watched news, checked social media, and did everything except the thing she was supposed to do, until a familiar feeling finally pulled her away from her seat.

“God fucking damn it,” she muttered under her breath, shaking her head as she walked away from her laptop. She wondered why she had been so ineffective - she’d never been one to struggle so much with writer’s block or procrastination before, and she didn’t really care about the stupid hypnosis trigger, did she?

But then, only a few feet from her chair, Ann felt something strange. The urge that she had, that had started as a simple need for a pee break, seemed to be developing unnaturally, growing stronger and stronger each second. But it had gotten beyond even that.

The girl looked down, unable to believe what she was seeing. There, at the front of her fresh pair of shorts, spots were appearing. They weren’t some burst of desperation, but small, uncontrolled drop, leaking through underwear, and beginning to drip onto the floor.

“Fuck!” She launched into a sprint for the bathroom, but it was already too late. The drops had turned into a full-blown stream, flowing down across the legs of her shorts and forming puddles on the hardwood below, with her muscles unable to stop anything.

She finally did enter the bathroom, but there wasn’t much left for her to do there. She tossed off her ruined shorts and panties - her second such set of the day - and sat half-naked on the toilet bowl, mulling her situation, cursing until her face turned red.

And then, like clockwork, he showed up, carrying a crinkling package in his hand as he waved to his girlfriend from the bathroom’s entrance.

“What the fuck do you want!?” she balked, “And why do you even have that?”

“Occupational hazard,” he chuckled, “different hypnoses affect people in different ways, and sometimes these h-”

“NO!” she pointed, glaring suddenly, “Don’t say that word - that word that rhymes with ‘yelp.’ That’s your fucking trigger word, isn’t it? Isn’t it?”

Richard smiled and shrugged, and then began to answer. “A good g-”

“No!” she cut him off, “You know what? Don’t fucking say anything. Don’t talk to me tonight. Sleep on the fucking couch. Okay?”

The man standing in the hallway nodded, raising his free hand up to gesture for calm. He said nothing.

“But,” Ann went on, her voice turning timid, “could you leave the package here? Thanks.”

Her boyfriend tossed the package towards her before proceeding to walk away once again. Ann, after a few moments, reached to bring it closer to herself, shuddering as she examined the contents.

Diapers. A small, mostly empty bag of thick, adult diapers. Ann wondered if she really needed them, or if she was simply letting Richard’s riddles get in her head. Either way, she figured, it would be easier to just put one on. Tomorrow afternoon, she reminded herself, she would be done with this insanity, free to go back to her normal life. And she would never agree to let that man hypnotize her again.

With a sigh, the girl took a garment from the bag and unfolded it, trying to make sense of front and back. This will be over soon, she reminded herself, and she stood to wrap the diaper around herself. It was an alien feeling, and she winced as she heard the plastic crinkle. Still, it wasn’t all that uncomfortable, and she was able to ease into the sensation as she walked back towards the bedroom, carrying the remainder of the bag in her fingers.

Richard had gone to sleep on their sofa, as requested, and Ann flopped onto their bed alone, thoughts from the previous day racing through her mind. She was too tired to try to do work any longer, and she reminded herself that it would be a waste of time anyway. Within a day, this would all be over, and that thought calmed her as she drifted off peacefully.

****

Some nine hours later, Ann rubbed her tired head as she tried to adjust to the new day. She wasn’t used to sleeping so long, and she certainly wasn’t used to the new sensation between her legs.

“Oh, Christ…” she mumbled, tossing off her blanket and covers to reveal a sopping diaper underneath.

“Good morning, sleepyhead!” Richard waltzed in, a wide smile on his face, “Ready for breakfast?”

“Could you not be so fucking loud?” she whispered, holding the side of her head, “i literally just woke up. Jesus…”

“Oh my,” he said, speaking more softly now, “looks like someone’s had a busy night, huh? I suppose I’ll just leave you to it, then.”

And for a few moments, he did, working away in the kitchen while the girl tried to orient herself. Slowly, Ann was able to untape her worn diaper, wrap it, and toss into their wastebasket, before pulling another from the bag - the last, she quickly realized - and setting it around her hips.

“Need any… assistance there?” Richard chimed in from the kitchen.

“No!” she balked, “I can change myself. I don’t need you using this as an excuse to humiliate me any more.”

“Suit yourself, then.”

This time, however, it seemed the tapes were baffling Ann. Try as she might, she simply couldn’t fix them around her waist, no matter if she was lying down or standing up, no matter how she tried to position her hands.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?” he finally asked again, peering into the bedroom door.

“I told you not to… ugh…” the girl scowled, crossing her arms and turning her head. “Fine! Go ahead and fucking change me already. I hope you’re happy, asshole.”

“Always!” he answered cheerily, whistling to himself as he fastened the blushing girl’s diaper.

“Y’know,” he said, just as he was finishing the work, “I think I might have to pick up a few things at the mall today. Would you care to join me?”

“Fine,” the girl replied, her head still turned away, a scowl still covering her face, “whatever.”

Breakfast was a silent affair - flapjacks and scrambled eggs, which the girl ate, to her relief, without incident. All the while, her mind continued to race through her current situation, as she struggled to accept the profound effects the hypnosis seemed to have had on her, and wondered how much further it would go before the day was through.

Soon, the two were in the mall lobby, watching Sunday crowds scuttle about around them. Ann had chosen a light blue sundress to wear - the one clean item she had that wouldn’t leave her with an obvious bulge - but she was still highly self-conscious of what was hidden underneath.

“So what did you want to get here?” the girl asked, nervously maintaining her hands at the hem of her dress.

“Well,” he began, “I did notice that package I gave you was running a bit l-”

“Oh my fucking god,” she cut him off, “You fucking asshole. You just brought me out here to buy diapers, didn’t you? You just want to fucking humiliate me, is that it?”

“Now, now,” Richard answered calmly, “no need to make a fuss. Yes, I may have needed to pick up a few of those, but I’m also happy to go shop for anything you like. My treat - it’s my way of thanking you for -” he paused and grinned, anticipating her grimace at his next word, “helping me with this project.”

Ann’s face turned red as she clenched her teeth. She wanted to scream that this was some trap, but she fought against the urge, not wanting to call attention to herself in this state. Plus, if he was being honest, this could be a chance for her to salvage her situation with a bit of material compensation.

And so, the girl led her boyfriend without a word to an upscale clothing outlet, handing him a basket to carry. For the next hour, she would fill it with anything that caught her eye, smiling gleefully as she snatched up the most extravagant items in the store. And Richard, for his part, said nothing.

That was, until he heard the girl’s stomach emit a familiar rumble.

“Uh oh…” he teased, “looks like someone’s gotta go.”

“It’s fine,” Ann rolled her eyes, “I can wait. I’d rather not deal with a public bathroom right now.” And with that, she went back to picking clothes, as her boyfriend shrugged silently and averted his gaze with a whistle.

It was only a few moments later, though, that a sudden and powerful cramp struck the girl, causing her to nearly drop the dress she was holding. With wide eyes and blush cheeks, the girl looked nervously around before admitting a change of heart.

“Berightback,” she blurted, and she darted off into the mall. And after putting their overflowing basket aside, her boyfriend ran after.

For a moment, Ann stopped and turned. “Don’t follow me!” she yelled, “I don’t need your fucking help, okay? I - I - oh god…”

The second cramp that hit, it seemed, was far more forceful than the first. There, in the mall’s corridor, Ann grunted as she felt her body pushing and pushing, a massive, mushy mess filling the back of her diaper.

She wanted to cry.

“There there, sweetie,” Richard said softly, “it’s okay. Why don’t we just make a quick run to the pharmacy, and then we’ll be off home and get you nice and clean, ‘kay?”

“You…” she grimaced, but she held back. Don’t make a scene here, she told herself, not here.

And so she went along, swallowing her tongue and her pride as he took her by the hand over to the mall’s small drugstore. But against his word, Richard seemed to be taking his sweet time, whistling as he carefully looked through the packages in the diaper aisle, before settling on one he liked.

“Oooh, this is perfect! A nice big package for you. Can you read how many diapies are in here?”

“Fuck off,” the girl whispered through gritted teeth, “I can read fine, asshole.”

“Oh?” the man countered with a condescending smile, “Go on, then.”

Fuming through her nose as she tried to contain her rage, the girl let her eyes drift to the package, finding nothing but incomprehensible symbols on it. Then, those eyes began to dart around the aisle, finding only the same on every other package and sign. And when she realized what it all meant, Ann snapped.

“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO ME?” she yelled, stomping her foot against the store rug, “WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO ME??”

“Now now, sweetie,” Richard smiled, putting aside the package he was holding, “there’s no need for that kind of language. Don’t forget we’re in a store now.”

“Fuck you,” the girl retorted, her face beet red as she landed another stomp on the floor, “Fuck you fuck you fu-”

In an instant, the girl found herself looking down at the floor, positioned with her full diaper facing up over her boyfriend’s knee.

“Tsk tsk tsk” he shook his head, stern but calm, “How many times did I warn you?”

*SMACK*

“Little girls like you shouldn’t be using such foul language.”

*SMACK*

“And now, this is what you get.”

*SMACK*

“Is that clear?”

Ann nodded behind watering eyes as she was let down onto her feet, her hand reaching to support her sore bottom as she winced at the sticky mess that had been pressed against it.

She would be silent for the rest of their mall trip, hiding her face behind her hands as her boyfriend checked out the new package of diapers, and looking away as they drove home. It was almost over, she told herself, remembering that there were only a few hours left before the day was up. This nightmare is almost over.

That only made it more shocking, however, when he led her back into their apartment to reveal what was once his office, redone completely into a full, adult-sized nursery, complete with a giant crib, soft pink-colored walls with infantile decorations, and a changing mat, onto which she found herself being placed.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he smiled, “I did a little redecorating while you were asleep last night. Thought you mind need this.”

“What the fuck,” the girl seethed, preparing to burst once more, “You fucking psycho…”

“Now, now,” he chided, “what did we say about naughty words?”

“I can say whatever the fuck I want!”

“Can you, now?”

The girl was ready to go off once more, but she was interrupted by a strange feeling. Her tongue, it seemed, was lost in her mouth, and all of the sounds she wanted to make seemed impossible.

“Ga…” she mustered, “ba… da…” but she simply couldn’t formulate a word.

“Oh, too bad,” Richard commented, unable to fully hide his chuckle at the girl’s state, “Seems like someone’s lost her train of thought. And it’s such a shame, because I’m sure you really wanted to ask for me to undo this hypnosis.

“But that’s not going to happen now, because you went and said those words again - I can. So sad, really - you could have probably figured it out when you were still smart enough, but instead you went and insulted me and my work, thinking you were so much better than all of it.

“I guess it can’t be helped. I guess that’s just the girl you are - or at least, the one you were. Thinking you were better than everyone else, thinking you could do anything. And that’s exactly why I had to teach you this lesson.”

Ann lay in wide-eyed shock as she soaked in the revelation. Her mind raced as she tried to find a way out, a way to escape being this oversized baby, unable to speak a word, being changed out of a full, wet, messy diaper before being put down into her crib for a nap.

But she couldn’t.

#ab/dl community #ab/dl

[imaginedreamwrite]

Wildest Dreams: Part 4

It seemed like weeks since they had found you in the library and tried to trap you, the two massive alphas who had practically been dry-humping in the aisle that you were needing to get into, but in reality it was a little over a week.

You had exited one of your physiology classes only to be flagged down by one of the junior receptionists that worked directly for the dean. She had caught you before you could head to your second class, and had in not so many words, informed you that the dean needed to talk to you.

You’d thought that maybe there was a problem with your admittance papers, or there could have been a few issues with your classes since you’d been told they were reaching peak registration numbers. What you had been thinking was on an entirely different level and scope than what was waiting for you when you arrived at the dean’s office.

The first indication that the older alpha and dean were not alone, was the wavering and wandering scents of the two alphas who had cornered you in the library. The first integral notes that had infiltrated your nose were confusing at best, given that you had no reason to be here with them unless the head librarian had made a complaint about you from the week before. Still, it hadn’t eased you.

Still, as you had entered the office and had taken the seat to the far right of Bucky you were not unbound.

You were confused, you were anxious and you had been stuck between wanting to throw your book at Barnes’ big head and fleeing the room as the scent of alpha became overwhelming.

“Hey bean-“

“Don’t talk to me.” You cut Bucky off with a tense snap, your entire body and hindbrain firing off neurons that only added to your feeling of unsettled composure.

There were too many alphas in the office that wasn’t nearly big enough to give you ease or peace of mind. It was much too concentrated to focus on anything but the way Steve and Bucky’s scent had reacted in time with your own, and the dean was looking between you expectantly.

There was a moment of awkward silence that fell between the four of you, as you waited for the news of why you were here to come to light. You had no possible idea why you were called to the office or why the two meatheads were here with you, the junior secretary had revealed nothing, and with no given clue as to why you were called, you were becoming more agitated and put off the flurry of scents.

It was only after the dean of the university had leaned forward and rested his elbows upon the desk, tucking his hands under his chin, that he had addressed you with a clearing of his throat.

“Mr. Rogers and Mr. Barnes are in need of a tutor in order to continue playing with the football team, they need to maintain a GPA of 4.2 and they’re sitting at 3.9. You were recommended by a few professors here and because of your connection-“

You felt the heat, bubbling and boiling anger poignant under your flesh as you grit your teeth and sucked air in through your flaring nostrils. You had bounced your heels against the floor as you fidgeted while listening to the dean yammer on about the pride the university had in their football team, and the great importance that having two players like Barnes and Rogers on the team.

He had continued, applying pressure to you to give in without formally asking you, all while the sound of his voice and his grading scent was fuelling your internal engine that would eventually lead to an outburst. You were biding your time, you were positively stewing from the weight of this news.

And you couldn’t cognitively explain why.

“We need the help, omega bean.” Bucky had fixated his gaze upon you, watching you with widening eyes and a droop of his bottom lip into a pout that had simultaneously made you more irritated than before and empathetic to their cause.

“We can’t play if we don’t raise our GPA.” Steve had also allocated a pout, and his blue-green eyes had become wide and doll-like.

You knew they loved the game, you knew they were talented and incredible at the sport. You knew they had to be extremely talented to have made the team in the first place, but to then have the admiration of so many people in and out of the school? That kind of talent and skill was impressive and had stirred support that was as powerful as it was poignant. They loved it, and they needed you.

Still, you were annoyed.

Was it because of the insistence that you and the two alpha form a bond again? Was it the feeling that this was all contrived by your parents and the past you shared? Or were you so annoyed and triggered by their presence because you recognized the familiarity you shared when you were younger? Was it your stubbornness that wouldn’t let you get past this re-admittance into your life?

“-you’ll receive extra credit toward your degree for your hours put into tutoring Mr. Rogers and Mr. Barnes-“ The dean continued to speak even as you had shoved your chair back and stood with your bag resting on your hip, and Steve and Bucky looking your way.

“It would’ve been nice to be asked instead of coerced into it.” You slammed your hand upon the flap of your bag, feeling the weight of your physiology and biology textbook that you’d used no less than ten minutes ago while wondering if you could get away with bashing them over the head with it.

“Omega Bean-“

“I’ll help you, not because I like you.” You smacked Bucky’s hand away when he tried reaching for you, warmth and piercing irritation stirring your ire like hot coals. “You miss one study session and it’s over, I won’t let you waste my time.”

You were overwhelmed by the scents of alphas, you needed out and you needed to breathe in a more even mix. You had stepped outside and slammed the door behind you hard enough to rattle the doorknob and the windows in the office. You had stumbled forward while your legs shook, desperate to get rid of their heady mix and get outside into the fresh air, your feet carried you until you hit an invisible wall and found yourself unable to move any further.

“We didn’t do this on purpose.” Steve jogged after you, coming to a stop just as you had a few feet away, his scent coming unhinged and still as potent yet it made you feel less stifled and more invigorated.

You had slowly exhaled and pivoted partially toward him, your hands clenching and leaning in a slow rhythm, his eyes fixated on you while your eyes had bounced around his face and shoulders, unable to focus on one thing for too long.

“Bucky and I, we’re not….trying to manipulate you. I know what you’re thinking, both of us know-“ you turned and darted away from him again, taking the nearest exit with a fire under your ass.

You pushed open the fire door and let it slam behind you, the metal clicking into place only to be opened again a few moments later. The sound of the door opening for the second time had echoed in your head just as the sound of their footsteps on the concrete had called out to your hindbrain like some kind of siren song to take control of your body.

“Y/N, stop!” Bucky had spoke up, Bucky had given the alpha command that slid too easily into your hindbrain and was accepted far too easily by those primordial and basest urges.

“Can you just talk to us? We’ve barely been able to keep up a conversation with you.”

They encroached, they drew closer and you were enveloped by their scents like you had been in the office only there wasn’t such a tarnished concentration as before. This was easier than before, even if you hadn’t wanted to be in their presence at all, at least their scents weren’t aggravating.

“I don’t want to talk to you, have you ever thought of that? Have you taken a moment to think that maybe I don’t want anything to do with you?” You turned on your heel, quickly coming to face them head on while also leaning into the stubborn nature that was inflicting you with such strong resistance.

The truth was, that having them pursuing you, it made you feel weak. Having them actively trying to worm their way back into your good graces and into your life, in general, was more than you could handle right now. Steve and Bucky wanting to pick up whatever you had in daycare when you were five, it had felt like you were standing on the edge of a high board, ready to dive into the water but being too afraid to look over the edge.

You knew that eventually you would have to go over, eventually you would have to take the plunge but it was your fear and your anxieties that kept you from completely giving in.

“Come on, you know that’s not true-“ You screamed in frustration and slipped your bag off your shoulder, whacking Steve in the side with your physiology and biology textbook as you countered his claim.

“It is true! I don’t want to be around you! You and your annoying little posse of cheerleaders and constant fuck cycle!” you huffed and whacked him once more before you turned sharply and started stalking away, only to stop again and turn back to look at both of them.

“That’s what you’re so mad about? You think we slept around with the cheer squad? JellyBean, those girls are our friends-“ Bucky had begun laughing, a sweeping chortle making his shoulders shake while Steve had winced and waved at Bucky to shut up.

“And the other omegas? The other girls who like to comment on your stupid instagram page-“

“Steve and I only fuck each other. Occasionally we have a third but-“ Bucky groaned when Steve had smacked his chest with enough power to knock the wind out of him, but the damage was done.

You had groaned and huffed again, stomping your feet dramatically like you had when you were younger. They let you leave, they let you walk away while they watched you and the steam billow out from your ears as you huffed and puffed about the two alphas who were caught under your skin.

They waited a few minutes before they had begun trailing on after you, walking the same path you had until you turned a corner and headed straight into one of the coffee shops on campus. Bucky and Steve had watched and waited as you took a table near the back and dumped your bag onto the seat, sitting with another, silent to them, huff and a purse of your lips.

None of this was going like they wanted, none of this had played out like what was in their heads and given how excited they were for you to be back it had felt like a harsh blow. There had been a long stint between daycare years and university, with most of the time passing as you were across the country from Steve and Bucky while they had each other.

It was, in part, a necessary evil to save you three from being socially isolated in a formed pack, but while Steve and Bucky had each other you had no one.

“We have to talk about it eventually.” Steve had grabbed Bucky’s hand to yank him into the coffee shop, the bell above the door announcing their presence but you had sparsely lifted your head.

You had only glanced at them when they approached the table as a pair and remained quiet and solemn. You had leaned back against your chair and crossed your arms over your chest, giving the two of them a deeply seeded glare that was akin to something cute and sweet trying to look deadly.

“We’re sorry,” Steve had cleared his throat and attempted an apology, settling one hand upon the back of the chair, “for…being stupid.”

“That’s a lifelong disease, Rogers. Being stupid.” You snipped and bared your teeth, your ire and anger as an omega was almost as deadly as theirs as alphas and you hadn’t needed to get physically violent. Again.

“Can we talk, please? explain ourselves?” Bucky started to slide the chair out from under the table, only to cease his actions when you whipped your head in his direction and let out a soft little growl of your own that had sparked little noughts of desire.

“We’ll buy you hot chocolate, and something to eat.” Steve attempted to smooth you over, with a bashful smile and a wave of his hand toward the counter. “You still like crushed candy cane and whipped cream, right?”

“My next class got cancelled.” You huffed and grit your teeth. “You have two and a half hours, and if I don’t want to listen-“

“You can leave anytime.” Bucky had quipped, adding the little bit as he took his seat across from you and then craned his neck back, grabbing Steve’s wrist to stop him from moving. “Grabbing me something, Stevie?”

“Are you going to pout if I don’t?” Steve grumbled, yanking his hand from Bucky’s wrist and rolling his eyes when he fell silent. “Why do I even bother asking?”

The cacophonous scents that had irritated you earlier had now dissipated and was replaced with the aroma of brewed coffee and slightly burnt sugar, the blend of teas and additives to the tops of their seasonal drinks that you had focused on.

And then Steve and Bucky’s scents crept back up and overpowered it all, leaving you feeling as if you could have purred and revelled in its comfort since your heart, brain and hindbrain all seemed to be discordance with each other.

“We didn’t sleep around, I should clarified-“ Bucky’s voice was akin to honey, laced with the kind of sweetness that was natural for an alpha trying to connect with an omega.

“Your friend…Rhys-“

“Rhys! Yes!” Steve spoke with overexcitement, knocking his knee against the underside of the table, a sharp whine falling from his lips.

“Rhys, the cheerleader, she found me after you left. But then I saw all these other comments-“ you sighed, your eyebrows furrowed. “We’re not friends, we haven’t been friends-“

“Steve and I have only been with each other, and occasionally we’ll sleep with an omega when our ruts are really bad.”

Bucky reached out and rest his hand upon yours, only connected for a moment before you yanked your hand back. “Sorry. Sorry…”

“She said you’re like their brothers, and that most of them are in relationships.” You steeled your gaze toward Bucky, yanking yourself and your coffee back to create more distance. “But you still have all those girls hanging off of you, your little fan club-“

“Omega Bean, we waited for you. We would never-“

“Yeah? Did you?” You snapped again, bearing your teeth with bite and ire. “You had each other. I had no one. You at least got to grow up together while I was ripped away and moved across the country.”

“You know what our parents said-“ Steve had reached for you again, his fingers grazing your forearm. “I’m sorry we had to leave, but you’re here and we can start off-“

“No,” you cut him off, confused by your feelings and the screeching of your hindbrain to just give in, “no we are not diving back in. Not where we left off. Absolutely not.”

“Friends then?” Bucky stole your attention, smiling charmingly and beautifully. “No courting, no dates. Just…friends? And a tutor..?”

“I’m so pissed at you, I could throttle both of you.” You growled, still as intimidating as a little bunny, but if it made you feel better they would’ve heard it all day.

“You got Steve already.” Bucky grinned, boyishly chortling under his breath. “I don’t remember you being so strong.”

“Bucky-“

“Yeah? You’re next Barnes.” You grabbed your bag and lifted it over your shoulder, letting it fall against your hip. You stood and grabbed your coffee and your untouched pastry, clinging to both as you stood but hadn’t left.

“Friends?” Bucky batted his eyelashes at you, pouting and pleading in a very un-alpha like manner.

“You really waited? You had no one else?” You questioned, your guard slipping for a moment.

“Of course we did.” Steve’s voice had grown softer, his eyes just as tender and sweet. “I can count on one hand-“

“We missed you.” Bucky grabbed your wrist, his thumb brushing against your veins as he scented you. “We missed you every day, omega bean.”

It brought you comfort and warmth, and you had to mentally berate yourself not to close your eyes and revel in it.

“Friends. Barely friends.” You jabbed your finger into Bucky’s chest, your eyes narrowing into a glare that was neither intimidating nor deadly. “And we start studying Thursday.”

“We have practice Thursday.” Steve spoke, sliding the calendar over to you. “Friday and Saturday’s are saved for games-“

“Fine. Wednesday then,” you spoke again, with a little more fierce, “I can only do Monday and Wednesday.”

“Since we’re friends…” Bucky slowly stood, trapping you between the next table and his chest. “Would you consider coming to our practices and games?”

“Our first game is this week. Start of the season-“

“-fine.” You stepped around Bucky and began walking toward the door, stopped once more by the sound of his voice.

“Would you consider friends with-“ you turned and looked over your shoulder, a laugh bubbling on your tongue as Steve slapped his hand over Bucky’s mouth to shut him up.

“Silence,” you laughed under your breath, “it’s a real good look on you, Barnes.”

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#alpha!stucky x omega!reader fluff #alpha!stucky x reader fluff #alpha!stucky x omega!reader #alpha!stucky x reader #college football au #football!steve rogers #football!alpha!stucky #football!alpha!bucky barnes #Stucky x reader #college!steve rogers x reader x college!bucky barnes #college!stucky x reader #a/b/o #college au #university au #wildest dreams series #wildest dreams masterlist #wildest dreams #wildest dreams part 4

[magpies-gold]

I got really bogged down this weekend on my writing. This is always the thing that wrecked me about NaNoWriMo: 50k words is juuust enough so that I hit the self-doubt super hard.

It’s where I have enough of the world and the characters down so that I can see them clearly enough to recognize where they’re held together with chewing gum and hope. It’s where I can see the road ahead but also I’m on the edge of the first really big gaps that I just have to put 2x4’s over as a makeshift bridge and fill them in correctly later. The piece I need for that is stashed somewhere near the end of the book. It’s when I find spots in the story where the wiring isn’t hooked up yet and the lights are out so I kinda know three or four ways to get from point A to point B and I can’t see which one’s correct so I just have to kinda write them all (the correct answer has a chance at being a Frankenstein’s monster mishmash of all of them!)

It’s nice that my mom’s been reading the mess as I work on it because it means that I have someone to call and say “It’s trash but it’s still trash with potential, yeah?” and talk my way back to having the confidence to continue. Thanks, mom.

So.

Reminder to Self.

First drafts are The Stupidest Version. The characters get spontaneous amnesia. They know things that they shouldn’t. They try to ad lib instead of sticking to the script. The equipment you ordered for the set months ago isn’t here yet so you’re making do with an old fridge and some cardboard as a stand in but it’s really obviously just a fridge that says “warp core” on it in Sharpie. No one can keep a straight face around it. This is all going to get rewritten from scratch in a few months.

It’s the vomit draft. Sometimes (often) you get caught yammering for three hours about one of the character’s childhood and the camera was running the whole time. The characters can’t quite remember their lines or motivations so they repeat themselves five times in five different ways over five different scenes before someone yells “We got it already! Shut up!” You all explore the basement and the sub-basement before realizing that you don’t even need the -house- that you’re in, but you found a key down there that’ll help elsewhere and so it was worth the detour. Two characters don’t jive naturally yet so you either take them out for coffee or hand them nerf bats and engage with -that- for 2k words, coming out the other side all the wiser but with 2k words that will not make the cut. That’s fine. It still needs doing.

And it’s a sketch. I did a drawing earlier today where I drew, erased, and redrew a creature in the background no less than twenty times (at one point just covering the canvas in question marks out of frustration) before I finally figured out what I was doing. Same diff, but writing takes longer. It’s going to have construction lines and eraser marks all over the place, but later I can pick out the good lines and go from there.

Anyone who suggests that writing is anything but barely controlled chaos is, in my opinion, slightly bonkers. It’s herding cats that can phase through walls and travel in time, and in the meanwhile, all you have is a butterfly net with a hole in it.

And sometimes you just need a good pep talk to remind you that yes, it’s supposed to look this janky. Keep going.

#writing #I am doing quite the strugg #but i will persevere #alpha base #nanowrimo

[the-au-thor]

Hello!

Nice writing btw

I saw you write ST fanfics and i was thinking Steve Harrington and female reader. One of them receiving comfort. I don't really know how, but i need sweet comfort right now so bad. It could be just platonic or romantic, that's on you honey.

Thank you! Don't forget us the Stranger Things Fanfiction readers please!

Hi Hun! I hope you're having a great day. I write ST fanfics indeed, and I am glad you have requested me this, I tried my best and I hope you'll like it!

It's you | Steve Harrington x Reader

Words: 1.6 k

Warnings: Typical ST

Desperate, you were tossing and turning in bed once more. After over a month without proper sleep, you'd think that at the first chance to crash in your own bed, you'd catch some sleep and be out like a light for at least the next eight or nine hours (heck, even more if you could admit it shamelessly). But nope, all you could do at that moment was lie awake with the sheets tangled around your legs and unable to catch any shut-eye.

You'd say it was possibly the worry and adrenaline of the past days that were causing your insomnia now, but it didn't make sense. It wasn't the first time you had gone through stressful moments like this, though it was the first time it had been this horrible. You looked up at the ceiling of your room in frustration. Some strands of your hair fell onto your mouth, and you removed them with an annoyed huff.

Perhaps you had already gotten used to crashing in uncomfortable spots. Like the cold hard basement floor of the Wheelers, a month and a half ago, when you and your friends were trying to figure out the reason behind the sudden deaths of teens in the town. Everyone was pointing fingers at Eddie Munson, but of course, it wasn't him. You decided to crash at the Wheeler's because it was basically the HQ, since the Byers had gone and Hopper had died… or so it was supposed.

That night you were taking turns to watch over Maxine, who had been chased by another creature from the Upside Down more wicked than the previous one (yep, that was possible). You were on duty along with Dustin and Steve. Dustin had been yammering and ribbing Steve about almost everything that came out of his mouth; poor guy had no choice, he was too clueless and Dustin too slick. Eventually, the dude had crashed out and was snoring, head on Steve's leg, whose back was against a wall next to you.

"I think he's still annoying even when he's asleep," Steve whispered with an amused grin, watching Dustin snore.

You chuckled softly.

"You can say whatever you want, but you love him," you replied.

Steve looked at you and grinned with warmth in his eyes.

"Just don't spill the beans. I like making him think he's a pain in the ass" he whispered back.

You let out a giggle.

"You're doing a good job," you commented after a few beats of silence. Steve looked at you somewhat puzzled, and then you added: "With Dustin, I mean. He doesn't have older siblings, and he doesn't have a present father. You're just the man he needs"

Steve looked at the kid curled up next to him.Next morning, when he woke up, he would surely deny that he had used Steve as a pillow.

"Yeah. Actually, if you had told me a few years ago that I would be babysitting a bunch of thirteen-year-olds, I would have laughed it off.”

"Yeah, 'cause fighting interdimensional creatures is nothing out of the ordinary," you teased. "But I'm for real. It's definitely cool”

"Yeah, totally cool for King Steve," he said sarcastically.

You scoffed in response, rolling your eyes at the same time.

"Forget it," you muttered. "It’s so bogus seeing that you're always comparing yourself. You're exponentially a better person than you used to be, yet you're always comparing yourself to who you used to be.”

Steve leaned his head against the wall, thoughtful, looking up at the ceiling and making a gesture with his mouth, as if playing with his tongue against the roof of his mouth, and then nodded. "Yeah. Just… are there things you regret and just can't forget?" he asked.

You let out a heavy sigh and nodded.

"Dang. All the time," you admitted. "I mean… I dated Giles Bukowsky.”

"Yeah, that's really bad," he agreed. "But I publicly dissed Nancy at the town movie theater," he retorted with sarcasm.

You gave him an uncomfortable smile, showing all your teeth.

"Okay. That takes the cake, definitely. Although at the party I threw at home when the basketball team won the final, Tommy and Carol trashed my folks' bed. Plus, someone tagged 'Steve was here' on the wall of the main bathroom with pee"

Steve snorted.

" I. Did. Not. Do. That," he defended himself. "What bonehead would write their own name at the crime scene?”

"You were totally blitzed. That night you crashed by the pool, and I didn't realize it until dawn. I found you almost with hypothermia and one hand in the pool. I think you also wet yourself, but who knows, it could have been the water" you laughed somewhat regretfully. "I'm sorry, I know it wasn't funny.”

"Nah, it was kinda funny," he said back while laughing softly. "Who would've thought, huh? Going from sharing wild bashes in high school to this… " he murmured looking around.

"Yeah," you agreed. "I can't believe it either," you admitted, yawning and hiding the gesture behind your hand, laughing embarrassed. "Sorry.”

Steve watched you sideways.

"Hey. You can rest a little. You haven't caught any sleep at all.”

You shook your head.

"Neither have you. It's our turn to watch over Max," you reminded him, checking the wristwatch hanging on your wrist. "Plus, we only have half an hour left before waking up Nancy and Robin," you added, raising your gaze to look at him.

Steve had also turned to look at you, and you were very close. You were aware of your shoulders touching his, as well as your legs next to each other. Steve had one of his hands on his thighs, and you did too, so the tips of your fingers brushed almost imperceptibly against his. You lowered your gaze, somewhat embarrassed, but you didn't move. Steve didn't either, and you both remained in comfortable silence until the shift ended. Even after that, you stayed together in the same place.

"Remember Peabo's party where you did karaoke, and you sang so off-key that all the dogs in his neighborhood howled at the same time? It was so cool!”

You let out an almost silent laugh and covered your mouth not to disturb the rest.

"Dork," you lightly hit him. “You can say it; you sing like a dream.”

Steve frowned.

"I don't sing well," he defended himself, as if somehow what you said to him was an insult.

"You do. I remember the year Risky Business came out, and you were obsessed with Old Time Rock and Roll. You sang it almost all day. And you always sang in tune.”

Steve looked surprised.

" You remember that?”

You laughed.

" It wasn't long ago and you were in almost every hallway conversation. Besides, do you remember Peabo's karaoke, right?”

Steve smiled.

"Yeah, but that's because traumas are not easily forgotten,” he joked.

You stared at him and hit him again, this time a little harder, but it made him laugh. At some point, both fell asleep, unconsciously resting your head on Steve's shoulder and Steve his temple on your head. It wasn't the first time they had been each other's pillows during the strange nights that followed that one in the Wheelers.

"You can't get up" you scolded him a few days later when they were resting on the floor of Max's house.

You had been practically sucked into the Upside Down at Lover's Lake and had returned very injured.

Steve had taken the worst of it. He had been violently attacked by bat-like winged creatures. Now you were somewhat demoralized; Nancy had also been attacked there, although that attack had been somewhat different.

"We need to get weapons, we have to go back…" he tried to get up, but you stopped him.

"Hey, hey. I just changed those bandages and cleaned your wounds. Have a little more respect, okay? " you asked, gently pushing him back to the floor again, and he rested his head on your lap.

He was somewhat dirty and sweaty, but you didn't care. You were all dirty and sweaty, but alive, and that was good.

“We can't waste time; we have…”

You rolled your eyes and interrupted him.

"What, rest? Yes. We need to rest a bit, we can't go back there exhausted. A sleeping soldier is a fallen soldier" you added. "Besides, where will you get weapons at four in the morning? We should rest a bit, and in the morning, we'll go buy them" you assured him, unconsciously running one of your hands over Steve's forehead, wiping away a trace of mud from your skin and arranging the wet hair falling over your face.

"You're not doing well either. You should rest too.”

"I just scraped my knee, and one of those things pulled my pants," you observed, showing the hem of your jeans. "I'll leave it like this; it gives it style, right? Eddie said it's metal.”

Steve chuckled and then winced in pain.

"Uh," you murmured, seeing his furrowed brow in discomfort. "No amount of fighting training could get you ready for something like this, right? But for being unarmed, you were very brave.”

"You shouldn't have gone down there. None of us should have done it," he spoke wearily.

"Yeah, we agree on that. None of us should have done it," you accepted. "But you wanted to be the hero once again. Did you think we were going to let you take the spotlight as always? No-oh. We're not in school anymore.”

"Believe me, I know," he murmured, making a pained face. "How are the kids?”

You leaned your back against the wall.

"Nancy is taking a bath. Robin is raiding Max's fridge with Dustin and Lucas. Max is… in her room listening to music. Eddie's asleep, of course," you glanced down at Steve. "You should do the same.”

"What about you?”

You smiled.

"I will too. A little bit.”

Steve nodded in agreement and closed his eyes. You stroked his hair rhythmically until you made sure he had fallen asleep, then, still with Steve's head resting on your lap, you leaned your head back against the wall, closed your eyes, and slept deeply for the next three hours. After that, you spent several days without sleeping properly. You had fought and suffered losses. Max was hooked up to a machine in Hawkins' chaotic hospital, and they hadn't even had time to retrieve Eddie's body from the other dimension for a proper burial. Your eyes were on the letters of a book that Lucas had been reading to Max a few hours earlier. You knew "The Talisman" was a good book, and you didn't want to disrespect Stephen King and Peter Straub, but you were so tired that you didn't read anything, just rested your gaze on the pages while the vital signs monitor played the faint sound that miraculously, Max's heart kept beating.

"I was told you would be here tonight" Steve entered the room with two steaming cups of tea and handed you one.

You left the book on the table next to Max.

"Thank you" you settled into the chair and accepted the cup with a smile "I arrived an hour ago. It took me forty-five minutes to convince Lucas to go home. Erica had to help me.”

"Yeah, Dustin told me. We were at the school gym helping, and when I finished my shift, I came here. Do you mind if I join you tonight?" he asked somewhat insecurely.

That caught you by surprise. Steve Harrington wasn't someone insecure.

"So annoying…" you murmured sarcastically, rising from the seat and blowing on the tea as you rounded Max's bed and looked out the window "Don't you think the sky looks somewhat strange?”

"Considering that a few days ago there was a huge earthquake, and two different dimensions merged without anyone knowing…”

Steve responded as he walked towards you and stopped at the other end of the window. You let out a little laugh.

"That's true" you turned towards Max and furrowed your brow worriedly "Do you think she'll wake up?”

Steve followed your gaze, and you realized he was also worried about Maxine.

"I don't know. All I know is that we've witnessed too many fantastic things to not believe that this is just impossible.”

Wise words from Steve Harrington.

Both spent the rest of the afternoon talking and talking to Max, even though they weren't sure if she was listening. Steve kept her updated on things that happened in her absence and explained that Lucas would be back soon. You had managed to get Lucas to go home and wouldn't see him until the next day. You were committed to spending the night there, even though you hated hospitals with your life. It was when the sun set that Steve started arguing with you.

"You've been standing all day helping at the school.”

"You've been taking care of Lucas, Max, and Erica " Steve put his hands on his hips.

That posture usually worked with girls but it wouldn't work with you. It took more than that gesture to convince you.

"That's not the same" you breathed, mimicking his posture.

Steve caught it, but it didn't seem to bother him.

"You're right about that. Taking care of the kids is exponentially harder than folding clothes and putting them in boxes for refugees.”

You rolled your eyes.

"We're not going to get anywhere, it seems”

Steve looked at the recliner and sighed.

"We can share it" he suggested.

You looked at him. It was true that the recliner was quite large, but was it big enough for both of them to occupy it at the same time? Eventually, you both decided to test the theory with a few attempts until you found the right position. You lay down on it and rested your head on his shoulder. It was strange, but it didn't feel uncomfortable. Both knew each other well enough to have the confidence to share some embarrassing parties, adventures against interdimensional beasts, and occasional impromptu sleepovers on camper floors, basements, and now on a hospital room recliner.

"Do you remember the name of that blonde girl I dated in seventh grade?”

You frowned, trying to remember. You and him weren't the best friends, but the buzz in school every time Steve started dating someone was so big that you soon found yourself keeping an almost involuntary and unconscious record of all of Steve's affairs.

"Kimmy Scott? " Steve nodded "What about her?”

"I don't know, she's one of the girls who disappeared"

after the earthquake the other day, and I just thought about it”

You let out a sigh and looked at the ceiling.

"How many kids disappeared and are probably dead?" you asked "We know they are, and their families will always be looking for them”

Suddenly, you felt one of Steve's hands embrace your lower back. Maybe it was your idea, but for a few seconds, you thought he was pressing you against him. You heard your heart pounding hard under your chest and felt it rise and fall with your breathing. You closed your eyes and slept deeply that night.

That's why you were so ticked now. Everything was in your favor tonight; you were in your bed, the sheets were comfortable, and there was no place more familiar than your own room. You were alone, and there was no noise tonight, yet, dang it, you couldn't sleep.

Finally, you went down to the kitchen and nuked some milk with cinnamon. As you climbed the stairs, you were halfway up when you heard the doorbell, and somewhat flustered, you stopped still, with the cup in your hand. You began to descend slowly and approached the door cautiously, putting your right eye to the peephole, and could see Steve's profile in the darkness. You turned on the light and opened the door. Steve's eyes stopped at yours. He looked scared, like when you shone a car's headlights directly at a little rabbit. Unintentionally, your heart began to pump frantically in your chest. It was like breathing, blinking, or thinking; something you did without any control, without having to give orders. It just happened.

"Can't you sleep?" you asked softly then, but the dark circles under Steve's eyes spoke for themselves. Then you extended your hand to him, and he stretched his palm "Do you want to come in?" you asked, and there was no need to convince him; in a couple of seconds, Steve was inside the house. You led him upstairs, to your room.

It was something new; bringing a guy into your room. But you knew Steve, you knew him much better than you had ever known a guy, so it didn't feel strange or wrong, not even when he stretched out on your bed as if his muscles hurt and let out a couple of sighs of annoyance as he settled on the quilt. You lay down next to him on the sheets, and both looked at the ceiling, feeling each other's closeness.

"I used to be able to sleep" murmured Steve, and you realized it was the first time Steve had spoken since he arrived, and you also realized how much you missed his voice "Before, I mean, with you" he muttered the last part almost with embarrassment. You turned your head towards Steve with a puzzled look. Steve also turned his head to look you in the eyes through the darkness of the room "Now it feels weird not to have you by my side, know what I mean?”

You nodded in silence and looked back at the ceiling, bringing your head closer to Steve's shoulder and resting it on it. Steve pressed his nose into your hair and planted a kiss on your head.

"I was trying to think of what was missing for me to rest" you whispered, and then you smiled sleepily, finally feeling sleep overtake you. You brought your hand to Steve's, and his long fingers cradled yours, caressing your soft skin with his calloused fingertips.

"can you…? Just…hug me, please”

You smiled, releasing a small yawn and fulfilling his wish. Both fell asleep before the warm milk cooled on the bedside table.

#stranger things fanfic #stranger things au #stranger things imagine #steve stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington au #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington blurb

[puddle-nerd]

His

Summary: He knew that the other male was watching him, watching them, watching how she came apart at the seams for him and a part of Tsu’tey was viciously glad because this greedy, little vrrtep was his and his alone. (Tsu’tey/Reader)

Prompt 8 (Voyeurism) for my submission for LunasKinktober2023

This one is for our favorite scowly boy. I love our grumpy blue kitty boy very, very much.

Na’vi Translation: Oel ngati kameie – “I see you” (spiritually (joyful feeling) ) Oel ngati tse’a – “I see you” (physically) Tewng – loincloth Tsaheylu – bond or neural connection Unilpay – alcoholic drink like moonshine (non-canon) Unyor’näk – alcoholic drink like wine (non-canon) Vrrtep – demon Yawntu – loved one | lover | beloved person Male OC’s: Tsäutsim Te Tengew Tremas’itan Story Tags: No use of Y/N, Female Reader, Voyeurism, Established Relationships, Secret Relationships, Jealous Tsu’tey, Possessive Tsu’tey, Slight Exhibition Kink

Once upon a time, Tsu’tey would have thought that there must have been something wrong with him as he immediately swung away from JakeSully’s incessant yammering to look towards where you were approaching with Neytiri, giggling together with bright smiles on both of your face. You were wearing ceremonial garb for the celebration following Jake and Neytiri’s wedding that left little to the imagination and had his ears flicking up and his tail curling in interest. And who would have ever guessed he would fall head over tail for a vrrtep?

Your strange, bare feet with one too many blue toes on each foot had had the nails painted a pretty, shimmery lilac color, setting off your skin nicely. While your loincloth was simple and light purple, the swath of fabric covered a little bit more of your front than was standard, leaving your striped thighs just barely peeking out from behind. The band wrapping horizontally around your curvy hips, however, was beaded heavily with light blue and purple crystals and bigger golden colored beads. It matched your chest covering perfectly. The thick purple band that rested over your collarbones was adorned with a couple of large shiny stones. Stemming from the cloth, dozens of strands of the same smaller crystals and beads which, technically, covered everything but he could see your periwinkle nipples faintly underneath.

“You’re droolin’,” Jake’s voice brought Tsu’tey back into focus and he hissed at the other male.

“Are you two fighting again?” You asked with a grin as you and Neytiri approached the two of them. “And here I though you two were finally besties.” What Tsu’tey hadn’t seen was you held two skins of either Unilpay or Unyor’näk in your hands. Seeing him look at them, you offered him one, adding, “I think this one’s the kind you like.” He smirked and took a tentative sip, nodding as his tongue distinguished the flavor of his preferred alcoholic beverage upon his tongue. “I did good then?” Tsu’tey grinned and wrapped his tail around yours, his only sign of PDA, lifting the leather bag to his lips.

Meanwhile, Jake was enfolded around Neytiri from behind, kissing at her cheek and her neck, whispering things into her ear that caused her to blush and swat at him. You scoffed and rolled your eyes at them, sharing your annoyed amusement with Tsu’tey.

Taking a seat on a log around one of the fires, Jake and Neytiri joined you both on a different log though they remained wrapped around each other while you and Tsu’tey sat side by side, tails still entwined. Apparently, that didn’t stop Tsäutsim Te Tengew Tremas’itan from approaching, his golden eyes solely rested upon you with an inviting grin upon his lip.

“Oel ngati tse’a,” Tsäutsim greeted you before nodding towards the newly wedded couple and to Tsu’tey. “Dancing has begun. Would you care to – with me?”

You and the three other seated adults all paused, looking at the bold display of the standing male. Feeling Tsu’tey tense beside you, you tell Tsäutsim, “I apologize but I must decline as I don’t feel like dancing at this time.” You tighten your tail around Tsu’tey’s, hoping it will soothe his ruffled feathers. The inviting grin wiped off the other male’s face and formed into a pout. “I believe Saeyla was looking for a dancing partner?” Tsäutsim nodded sharply, and backed away, his golden gaze flicking between you and Tsu’tey before he went in search of the other female, rather reluctantly.

Unfortunately, a few other males came up to ask you to dance as the night progressed and Tsu’tey’s irritation began to rise further and further. “Maybe you should ask me to dance, hmm?” You suggested, taking a sip from the skin of your Unyor’näk.

The male in question grumbled and stood, offering you his hand. However, he did not take you to the dancefloor. Instead, Tsu’tey led you away from the celebration and led you away to the hot springs below HomeTree. There were multiple steaming pools beneath their home, each one enclosed with thick layers of vegetation, though there were gaps in the hanging vines and fronds that allowed you to peek into each hot spring. Tsu’tey took you to one such empty pool, pushing the flora away and bringing you inside. You looked up as Tsu’tey backed you up against one of the large roots that made up a portion of the wall surrounding the hot spring, a smirk adorning your face as you watched him leaning over you, your tail curling up in a very telling way. He lifted his chin and scented the air, smirk coming to replace his normal scowl as he smelled your arousal. “Oel ngati kameie, yawntu,” you whispered, tilting your chin upwards, your silent beg for a kiss.

Deciding to be generous, Tsu’tey replied, “Oel ngati kameie,” before he lowered his face and brushed his lips against your own. You hummed and pressed up against him. “Greedy vrrtep,” he teased against your mouth.

You just smirked, replying, “It’s your fault. You make me insatiable.”

Tsu’tey puffed up slightly at that, bowing his head and biting lightly at your shoulder in the way he knew you liked. You whimpered and reached beneath your hair and neural queue to untie your chest covering, tossing it to the side and freeing your breasts to press against his chest. “Yawntu,” you whispered, “I need you, now.” Tsu’tey chuckled, kissing you again, running one of his hands over your back and the other cupping one of your breasts, kneading the soft flesh and plucking at your nipple. You whined, arching your back into his touch needily. A brief movement beyond the curtain of flora at the entrance of the steaming pool and Tsu’tey looked up and noticed a pair of golden eyes watching you and him. Tsu’tey smirked, biting teasingly at your neck, causing you to hum in pleasure. “Don’t tease,” you murmured.

“I would never dream of it my greedy, little vrrtep,” Tsu’tey told you, reaching for the ties of your tewng and undoing them, sliding the cloth from your lower body and catching the eyes of their audience once more. He smirked, watching the face come a bit closer so he would actually see their voyeur was in fact Tsäutsim. His vindictive glee rose high because you chose him.

Removing his own tewng, your lover turned you around so your back was to his front and kissed along your neck and shoulder, drawing your hair and neural queue over the opposite shoulder. Spreading your legs for him, you gasped as he lined himself up and sunk inside your warm, dripping entrance, pushing his hips forward, slipping into you inch by fucking inch. “Oh…” you couldn’t help but moan as you stretched to accommodate him, feeling every vein and curve of his cock as he bottomed out inside of your cunt.

“You have me now, my greedy, little vrrtep,” Tsu’tey hissed into your ear, eyes flicking up to see Tsäutsim’s gaze rivetted to you. “Shall I fuck you now?”

He didn’t actually wait for your reply as he steadied your hips against him, before pulling almost all of the way out, his cock dragging heavily against your gummy walls. You whined, greedily, trying to shift back against him, hearing him chuckle meanly as he prevented your from doing so. Instead, he slammed back into you, setting a relentless pace and rutting into like he was going into heat. Your ass bounced against his thighs with each thrust and your breath caught in your throat, your fingers of your one hand clinging to the back of Tsu’tey’s neck as he drove himself up into you. Arching your back, your cunt clenched around his cock bullying its way into your depths tightly, pleasured mewls escaping your throat.

Tsu’tey continued to drive himself deep into you, one hand lifting from your throat and moving to hold onto your throat gently as he rutted up into you from behind. His gaze flicked up to see Tsäutsim still watching, eyes darkened with lust as he took in your pleasure, the pleasure you could only find with Tsu’tey. As if you were purposefully adding insult to injury to the audience you still didn’t know you had, you suddenly pleaded, “Tsaheylu, Tsu’tey, please… Wanna feel you.” Keeping Tsäutsim’s gaze, your mate connected his neural queue with yours, holding you tighter as your pleasure and his reverberated through the bond, heightening what you both already felt.

It also meant you now knew Tsäutsim was watching.

Tsu’tey felt your startlement and nudged the emotions and thought process that he felt and experienced that led to his decision to put on a show for the other male. He could feel you mulling it over and while there was a part of you that was not happy with his decision, there was another piece of you that found his display of possessiveness quite arousing. He smirked and fucked you harder, feeling your internal coil tightening further as your cunt clamped down upon his cock.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” you chanted, grinding down upon him, the fingers of your left hand digging into the small of his back and your right-hand clinging to his wrist. He shifted his angle just slightly and felt you the second you climaxed, coming with a scream of his name, “Tsu’tey!”

Your spasming walls and the pleasure you poured through the bond forced his own end and he spilled deep inside of you, your walls milking him for all he was worth.

Tsäutsim was no longer watching.

But that was okay. Tsu’tey’s point had been made. You belonged to him, with him. You were his mate, had chosen him long before he had realized he had chosen you too, and there was no breaking that. The two of you were with each other until the end of all things. His friend, his lover, his greedy, little vrrtep, his yawntu, his mate.

𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸

Originally Posted: 08 October 2023 Word Count: 1,666

AO3

@pandoraslxna, @eyweveng

#lunaskinktober2023 #avatar #avatar smut #tsu'tey te rongloa ateyitan #tsu'tey avatar #tsu'tey smut #tsu'tey x reader

[yyyyyyayy]

immm sooo secy i do not have ads at all somtrue op

#yammers rants #silly posts #where are my ads on tumblr aside from blazeposts? God does not know and neither do i (i dont care)

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Imagine # 1,058

Picture NOT mine.

Year posted - 2024

Rating - SFW

Reading time (roughly) - 9 minutes & 40 seconds

Is Billy awful? Yep. Do I care? Nope. It's Bill Paxton, so I could care less. I'd still let him hit it. I made the reader a singer in this story, and I wrote with the idea that your a singer similar in style to Lana Del Rey. But you can imagine whatever you'd like, because I never describe the music. I just feel that some of Lana's music fits real well with him.

Also if you've not seen this episode, you can find it here on YouTube. And if you're curious what season and episode it is, its from season 5 episode 5. "People who live in brass hearses" is the name of the episode, and it aired on October 13, 1993. If you'd rather check out the wiki talking about this episode, you can find that here. Also Billy is most definitely OOC.

"You'll really like her Billy, she's real nice, and pretty too!" Virgil beamed at his older brother, who'd just gotten home from prison earlier that day. "Yeah?" Billy smiled softly at his brother's enthusiasm, glad to finally be home, and back with his numbskull of a brother. "Yeah. She moved in next door a few days after you were sent to prison." Virgil yammered on and on about how he met the lovely girl from next door, and how much she helped him while Billy was gone. "If she's so great, then why'd she help a goof like you?" Billy teased his brother while playfully ruffling his hair. "I told ya Billy, she's real nice. You'll see." Virgil promised, continuing to lead his brother to their destination. "Where exactly are we going?" Billy asked as he took in his surroundings, not much had changed from the two years he was gone. Aside from a house or two that had been demolished, and a few businesses changed to something else. "She's a singer Billy, and she's got a show tonight. I thought you might like seeing her sing." Virgil explained, his words having caught Billy's attention.

"Why do you want me to meet her so bad? And see her sing?" Billy asked, pulling Virgil's arm, to get him to stop and answer his questions. "Well... (Y/n) doesn't have a boyfriend... And I was thinking..." Virgil looked away in embarrassment, trying to avoid actually answering his brother's questions. "You were thinking?... What come on spit it out already." Billy urged Virgil with a small sly grin, though he already knew where this was going, he wanted to hear Virgil say it. "Well I was thinking maybe you could be her boyfriend." Virgil said as he nervously rubbed his arm. "Virgil you sly dog you." Billy's grin widened as he playfully wrestled with his brother, which made Virgil laugh excitedly. "I told her all about you Billy, she was always smiling when I talked about you." Virgil added when Billy let up the playful banter. "Was she now?" Billy slung his arm around Virgil's shoulders. "Well then what are we waiting for?" He added as they continued walking to the bar. Virgil told Billy all about her on their way to the bar, trying to describe her appearance as best he could.

But by the time they reached the bar, Billy was woefully unprepared for just how pretty the young singer would be. They had gotten comfortable at the bar, ordering beers, and waiting patiently for the show to start. When the lights dimmed and a melodic music began to start, a hush came over the crowd, and everyone's attention turned to the stage. Then out she walked, the star of the show, in all her glory. Glimmering under the warm glow of the stage lights, her smile brighter than the sun itself. Billy nearly choked on his beer when he laid eyes on her, his jaw dropping as she crossed the stage with graceful steps. Her red dress hugging all the right places, and her jewelry sparkling like stars in the night sky. Billy could have sworn his heart stopped in his chest, from the very moment she began her first song. Her voice enchanting his very soul in ways Billy never could have anticipated. "See I told ya she was pretty." Virgil smiled brightly at his brother, happy to see that Billy apparently approved of her.

"No kidding." Billy chuckled, unable to draw his attention away from the enchantress on the stage. Her words rang in Billy mind, and the things she spoke of began painting a picture in his mind. A picture of him and her together, slow dancing together chest to chest, as she sings to him of her love and desire for him, and him alone. Song after song went by, and Billy found himself growing increasingly impatient about getting to actually meet her. His leg bouncing when she spoke to the crowd about how the next song would be her last for the evening. Her eyes swept over the crowd as she spoke, and when she spotted Virgil, and the man sitting beside him, her eyes visibly lit up. Sparking hope and desire within Billy's heart. She shot a quick wink their way, before starting her last song for the night. Virgil chuckled at the way Billy toyed with his appearance, happy to see that Billy was eager to meet her, and make a good first impression.

The show was now over, and Virgil and Billy eagerly tried to meet up with her outside of the bar. But unfortunately for them, a rather large crowd had formed around the young women, who smiled politely and thanked everyone for their kind words. "Fuckin people." Billy grumbled under his breath, growing increasingly impatient with the unwanted delay. Billy perked up a bit in anticipation, when he noticed a visibility drunk man push his way through the crowd to her. He made unwanted advances towards her, and she tried pushing him away. No one seemed interested in helping her, and that only increased Billy's anger. Similar to the drunkard Billy shoved his way through the crowd until he reached her side. And without a word he pulled back and swung, knocking the man unconscious in one hit. Protectively putting his arm around her waist, and pulling her into his side.

"Scram you vultures." Billy hissed at the crowd, who grumbled in annoyance, but complied none the less, dispersing in less than a minute. "My names (Y/n)." She peered up at Billy, who grinned at her words, holding her a little tighter against his side. "I'm Billy." He flashed her a charming smile, his chest swelling with pride when he noticed the blush dusting her cheeks. "Hiya (Y/n), the show was amazing tonight." Virgil cut in with a bright smile. "Oh thank you Virgil, I'm glad you enjoyed the show." She smiled at her friend, breaking away from Billy to pull Virgil into a quick hug. When she pulled away from her hug with Virgil, Billy noticed the shiver she gave from the chill in the night air. And without a second thought, she shrugged off his prized leather jacket, and slung it across her shoulders. (Y/n) turned to him with a bashful smile, thanking him in a soft tone of voice. "Mind if we walk you home?" Billy asked. "How do you know I didn't drive here?" She asked with a small grin. "Because there are no more cars in the parking lot." Billy pointed out, making her grin widen. "Well then in that case, I'd love it if you'd walk me home." She mused as she took his hand in hers.

Billy and (Y/n) took the lead, and Virgil followed closely behind them, smiling brightly at the sight of his good friend, and brother getting along so well. "So you've been looking after my baby brother this whole time huh?" Billy asked, smiling down at her. "Oh well Virgil was doing okay on his own. I just helped around the house, cleaning up a bit, cooking, shopping for groceries with him, and helping him manage his bills. Really it's what any good neighbor would do, and he's a sweetheart so I enjoy spending time with him." She explained with a fond smile. "Well I think little old Virgil got lucky to have such a generous neighbor such as yourself. And I got lucky to meet the beauty looking out for him." Billy flirted making (Y/n) giggle softly as she leaned into his side, grinning when he casually wrapped his arm across her shoulders. "Who knew you'd be such a charmer." (Y/n) mused as she peered up at him. "And who knew you'd be such a dame." Billy countered before suddenly sweeping her off her feet, and into his arms making her squeal in surprise.

"Billy!" She cried out with a laugh. "Can't have you walking through a puddle now can we?" Billy asked as he turned her attention to the large mud puddle in the broken portion of the sidewalk. "My hero." She leaned into his hold, again making his chest swell with pride. "Anytime babe anytime." He grinned still carrying her despite being well passed the mud puddle. "Hey (Y/n)." Virgil called to her. "Yes hun?" She turned her gaze to him, peering over Billy's tattooed shoulder. "Would you... Would you maybe be interested in dating Billy?" Virgil asked. His words made (Y/n) giggle bashfully, hiding her face in Billy's neck for a moment. Billy was unbothered by his brothers blunt question, but he was definitely curious about what (Y/n) would say. "Yeah what do you think darlin'?" He inquired with a grin. "Well... Yeah I think I might... He's just my type after all." She grinned at Virgil who was beaming with excitement. "Good to know." Billy muttered before planting a quick kiss against her cheek. (Y/n) again bushed and hid her face in Billy's neck with a bashful giggle.

Buy me a coffee sometime? ☕️

(Click the coffee for my Kofi link, IT'S NOT NECESSARY BTW.)

Billy is such a weirdo with his whole butter obsession, but again it's Bill Paxton so I'm in love.

Also I doubt this one will get much attention, considering how obscure it is, but that's okay, I mostly just write for myself anyways in all honesty.

#Picture imagine #imagine #extended #reader insert #Billy DeLuca #Virgil DeLuca #tales from the crypt #Billy DeLuca X Reader #Virgil DeLuca X Reader #tales from the crypt x reader #William DeLuca #William DeLuca x Reader #bill paxton #bill paxton x reader #Billy DeLuca imagine #Virgil DeLuca imagine #tales from the crypt imagine #William DeLuca imagine #Sfw #fluff?

[jjkeremika]

My Tutor

Description: eren is struggling with math so mikasa offers to help him. eren asks to feel her boob if he gets a 100 on his final. mikasa figured he’ll never get a perfect score, so it couldn’t hurt to give him something to work for.

alternative universe: college/university

gets a little smutty

*************

“I really don’t get why I need to know calculus and series and linear algebra. How this is relevant to me as a person— beyond me! And it’s not like I don’t do the homework, Armin, I’ve fucking tried and still fail.”

Eren crossed his arms and huffed. He was pacing, barely. Two steps then turning around. Another two steps and turning around.

“I’m not built for this crap. Oh, it’s dumb I have to fucking memorize shit!”

Armin rolled his eyes, returning his attention to the laptop in his lap. Eren was complaining about his maths class again.

Yeah, he did the homework, as in he had an answer for every question. Whether he derived that answer the right way is a completely different question; and whether he studied was another.

He let Eren yammer on as he stared around the campus. They were sat underneath their favorite tree in their favorite spot on campus. It was a stunning day, sunny and not too hot, a nice breeze. Armin couldn’t not work outside today. There was a lot of background chatter. The leaves made a lovely noise as the breeze swept through.

Though he could barely hear it over Eren’s loud mouth.

“Armin, are you even listening to me?” Eren was waving his hand in front of Armin’s face, desperately trying to get his attention. “Stop spacing out, I’m having problems.”

“When aren’t you having problems?” He intended for it to be more playful, but it came out as a sigh. Eren paid no attention to it.

“Dude. I could fail this fucking class, okay? I need your help.”

“I’ve never taken that class. Ask Jean or Reiner or Floch or someone.” Armin paused. “Just not Connie. Oh. Hey, Mikasa. How are you?”

Armin watched her approach from behind Eren, who was completely oblivious to anyone’s presence besides his own and Armin’s. Her natural gait was so quiet though that he wouldn’t noticed her presence if he weren’t staring at her.

She had ditched her usual trousers and long sleeve for a long skirt and short sleeves. She had waved to Armin.

“You look nice today,” Armin added. Mikasa smiled from the compliment. Eren quickly turned to face her.

“Thank you,” she responded, stopping next to Eren, who’s eyes were fixated on her. She turned her head to face Eren and greeted him: “Eren, hi.”

Eren wasted no time. “Mikasa, you’ve taken Math Methods, right?” he asked.

“Why do you ask? Do you need help? I can tutor you.” Armin rolled his eyes - Mikasa to the rescue.

Eren’s eyes lit up. “Really? Could we make it a regular thing? I’m royally fucked if I fail my final.”

Armin could practically smell the desperation. Armin let out a mix of a scoff and a laugh. Eren shot him a glare.

“What’s so funny?” Eren demanded. The argumentative tone was clear to Armin that his needing help was something he was embarrassed about. He knew him too well.

“Nothing,” Armin sighed. The conversation was now over. It was hard to talk to Eren when he started getting defensive.

Eren glared slightly at Armin while Armin shifted his gaze back to Mikasa, who still stood in front of them, arms crossed firmly under her chest.

“Yeah, we can do that,” she suddenly replied to Eren, returning to their conversation. He moved his eyes from Armin to Mikasa and wait— did he glance at her chest? “We can start tonight.”

***

Mikasa went to Eren’s apartment every night until the midterm to help him study. She would show up around 8:00pm, then would quickly greet Armin before Eren whooshed her off to his room to study.

The two sat side by side at his desk with the textbook, two notebooks, and lots of erasers. They sat close together; their legs and arms almost touching to the point where one’s body heat radiated immediately onto the other. Eren appreciated that she tutored him, but man was she fucking distracting.

It was the way she sat so close to him; the way she leaned closer when he was working on a problem; the way she smelled like a cross of pink roses and champagne; the way she’d glance at him after asking him a question; the way she’d lean in so close when explaining the answer— no, the way her arm would push against her breast when she’d write the solution for him…

“So, because the equation follows this pattern, this is the differential you’d use…”

He knew this would happen. If he weren’t doing that poorly, he wouldn’t have accepted her help. But she’s one of those lucky few people who just understands everything and usually it’s so damn annoying and so fucking attractive and he’s so desperate for help.

He hasn’t been this close to her since they were teenagers, fighting all the time because he was desperate to beat her.

He did: once. Sparring on the flats near his backyard. He had demanded a rematch after she knocked him on the ground for the fourth time. She relented and quickly tackled him; Eren landed on his front while Mikasa had pressed her knee to his back. He managed to swipe her weight-supporting leg out from under her and he flipped to his front. Her knees had separated on either side of him, sitting directly on top of him, hands placed near his head as support. Her face had turned red and she froze, and Eren took the opportunity to roll them over. He grabbed her wrists, tightened his thighs around her calves, and flipped so he was on top. She was still frozen, mouth agape, her entire face even more red, breathing a little more heavy. He was so happy about finally winning and jumped up immediately, exclaiming victory cries. She stood up and ran inside. He heard her talking to his mum later that night. He assumed she was embarrassed from losing and neither ever brought it up again. They never sparred again either.

It wasn’t until the memory resurfaced a year later that he realized he was completely oblivious to a different opportunity— one that he now thought frequently about.

“Do you see why this is a power series?”

Her lips seemed so soft and pink, and he’d watched the tiny red mark form on her bottom right lip as she bit it while thinking. And her skin seemed so soft too. Eren wanted to reach out and just caress her cheek sometimes and he had to shake himself out of it.

“Eren?”

Her voice was soft on his ears too. He couldn’t help but wonder just how someone who was so strong and intelligent seemed so soft and delicate. The thought of how she needed no one and he needed her in more ways than one didn’t seem so aggravating right now.

He returned her stare. “Hm?”

“Do you see why that’s the right equation to use?”

She was looking directly into his eyes. Grey meeting green. He wondered how just one look could make him feel so warm.

Now would be a great time to kiss her, he thought. Just kiss her.

“Eren? Helloo.” She tapped his shoulder and Eren shook his head to whisk his thoughts away.

“Yeah, I was just trying to work out the next one.” He leaned back in his chair. Fuck.

“When is your final? What grade do you need to pass?”

He rolled his eyes again— the way he always did when she was hounding him with questions. She was his tutor, so she had a right to know technically, but it’s not like he cared so why did she have to.

“Uh, in three weeks and don’t worry about it.”

She sighed. “Well, alright. I think you’ll earn a passing exam grade.”

He was slightly surprised and disappointed she didn’t ask further and started packing up her things. He checked the time: it was pretty late.

“I’ll walk you home.”

***

“Thank you for tutoring me,” Eren expressed at her door.

“You’re welcome. What should we do for a celebration when you pass?”

The outside lights illuminated her face. She was standing so close— so, so close. He could feel the heat radiating from her.

“Hm.” What he wanted he couldn’t just blatantly ask for, could he? “I’m not sure.”

“Well, if you think of anything, let me know. Good luck studying on your own. You should pick something to focus on for motivation.”

The words escaped his mouth before he heard them in his brain. He saw the blush and shock on her face before he even heard the question.

“If I get a 100, can I touch your boob?”

He felt warm again, but the bad kind. The weight in his stomach felt unnaturally heavy and his face was burning— but he took silent breaths and held his stance, she didn’t need to know he was freaking out.

After a brief pause, she laughed to break the tension. She watched him study for multiple months now with little improvement. If it helped to motivate him, fine by her. “Yeah, alright.”

***

Armin wasn’t home when Eren asked Mikasa to come over— he made certain. Whether or not anything actually happened, he didn’t want anyone besides them to know.

They were sitting on the couch when Eren told her the result. The tension thickened instantly and both of them blushed, both felt unbelievably warm.

“So, obviously nothing has to happen,” Eren rambled. “I’m pretty sure neither of us thought this would happen. I mean, I’m psyched either way because I got a 100, so don’t feel like an obligation or anything, because you have this weird thing about making me happy. Don’t worry about that. Seriously.”

She didn’t say anything.

“It was a dumb thing to say anyway. At the time and now. I really don’t know why I said that. It was way over the line. And I—”

His eyes flicked to her hands, which were unbuttoning her tight shirt. He couldn’t pry his eyes off of the exposed skin popping out of the shirt, desperately peeking out to breathe. Her skin looked paler there, constantly confined.

His mouth was open and his eyes were glued to her now exposed cleavage. Her top was on the couch now. The blood was roaring in his ears, pounding through his body. The way she was looking up at him, the way there’s even less fabric between him and her chest.

This was all too much. It was too real. He wasn’t ready for this— not with her of all people. What if he made a mistake? What if he took it too far? This wasn’t like last time. There was more intent— it was solely attraction.

Her hands were moving again. His brain was short-circuiting. He was frozen, only his chest was moving rapidly. It felt like all the air in the world wasn’t enough.

Before he could process it, the black bra he’d seen through her tight white shirt for two years now was on the floor.

Eren couldn’t breathe. The noise he let out was uncharacteristic, animalistic. He eyes roamed her face, he felt like he couldn’t look anymore. He wasn’t expecting any of this to actually happen, and he definitely wasn’t expecting this when it started to happen.

There she was, topless, looking at Eren in such a way that he’s never seen on her before. The way he knew he looked when he thought of her.

His arm started reaching up, pausing just above her skin. He didn’t broke eye contact with her. His hand hovered right over her breast.

She placed her hand over his and closed the gap. He stepped forward and rested his forehead against hers, eyes closed. He couldn’t believe this was happening.

He felt her push his hand closer and up. He felt her heartbeat, somehow beating even faster than his. He felt her nipple against the palm of his hand— and it was all real.

His fingers started to curl as he squeezed lightly, letting out another uncharacteristic whimper. Wait, that wasn’t me. That was all her.

He opened his eyes and saw hers were closed, lips barely parted, breathing rapidly and pushing his hand infinitely closer to her.

The feeling wasn’t enough. Both of them wanted to feel even closer to each other.

Eren used his other hand to lift her head and he kissed her desperately. All of the blood was draining from his head. She made him feel lightheaded and he fell to the couch.

She sat on top of him, still kissing him, pawing at his shoulders. This was it, the opportunity he’d lost.

He kissed from her lips to her ear, her ear to her neck, then to her chest. He wanted to memorize every bit of her.

She tilted her head back as he pawed at her bum with one hand and her boob with the other. Mikasa tilted her head back as Eren continued to kiss her chest and neck, mindlessly letting whatever noises her body made slip out.

This made it impossible for them to hear the door open. Armin sighed as he quietly closed the door and said nothing as he hid them from his view with his hand and ran quickly to his room, catching a quick glance at the exam on the counter.

#aot fanfiction #snk fanfic #eremika #eremika fanfic #eren jaeger #mikasa ackerman #eren x mikasa #college universe #i see them in like 20s #armin arlert #even tho i wrote mikasa you could just replace it all with yn #eremika smut #jjkeremika #i have to tag myself bc i wrote it lmao

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Superstar (Roy's Version)

I couldn't help myself. I love this man too too much! Here's what Roy experienced during the Reader's first few weeks at Nelson Road.

Roy Kent x Reader

3.2k words

Warnings: Language, Roy being lovesick & slightly stalkerish in a rom-com way

The Superstar Series

~

“D’we really need a fucking assistant?” Roy asked again, staring at Ted incredulously, thinking, for the millionth time, that the gaffer was the nuttiest man he’d ever met.

Ted shrugged, far too used to Roy to point out that Roy’d asked him this three times in the past week. “Sure. Someone to help keep track of our schedules, emails, lots of stuff. That way we can focus on the beautiful game.”

To Roy’s surprise, Beard spoke up. “We had a student assistant back at Wichita. The kid was indispensable, always thinking of things we didn’t even realize would be useful.” He shrugged. “You’d be surprised.”

“Whatever.” Roy rolled his eyes and returned to his own office- the one he’d have to ­share now- and continued adjusting on the play he was working on in his black notebook. He knew he was more annoyed at adding someone new to the mix than he was about whether they needed extra help. He’d just gotten used to the Americans, just allowed himself to somewhat enjoy his after-work time with Jamie, and now Ted expected him to be okay with welcoming someone new into the office.

Wanker.

“Hope ya don’t mind sharing!” Ted’s voice slammed against Roy’s ears as the coach entered the office.

A lump formed in Roy’s throat as he glanced up. He should have asked more questions about this whole assistant thing so he could prepare himself. He’d been expecting some young, nervous guy like Will to be joining the staff; not this gorgeous woman standing in front of him, your wide eyes and slight flush only adding to your beauty.

Ted prattled on, oblivious to the sound of Roy’s heart slamming against his chest. “I’m sure you know this ray of sunshine here is Roy Kent.”

Ignoring the stupid butterflies that were forming in his stomach, Roy scowled and stuck his hand out. “You’re the assistant then?”

Your fingertips twitched as you connected your hand to his. “I-I am.”

Nope. Nope. He couldn’t do this. He needed to get the fuck out of here before he said something stupid or did something idiotic.

Roy pulled his hand back, wondering if you’d been able to feel his racing pulse. “Well, as long as you keep your shit off my desk and don’t wear any rancid perfume, we should be fucking fine.” Hating himself for being, well, Roy, he stood up, snatched the notebook off his desk, and trudged off, careful not to nudge you as he rushed past.

He didn’t stop until he was far down the hallway, away from those wide eyes, where he could lean against the wall and take some deep breaths.

Roy Kent was fucked.

~

He’d tried to put you out of his head the rest of the day. Tried to focus on training. Tried to focus on the plays he was meant to show Ted later in the week. Tried to focus on his drive over to the school to pick up Phoebe. Tried to focus on whatever the kid was yammering about. Tried to focus on the games they played while they waited for his sister to come pick her up. Tried to focus on the takeaway his sister had brought over so they could all eat together in Roy’s kitchen.

Brilliant as she was, his sister noticed. “What’s up with you?” she asked, eyebrow raised suspiciously.

He grunted and poked at his food. “Work shit,” he mumbled. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Phoebe add a new tally mark in her notebook. “Lasso decided we need an assistant to keep us organized and shit, so now I get to share my office.”

“Hmm.” A smirk played on his sister’s lips. “Don’t like him already? Poor fella.”

“Her,” Roy corrected without thinking. Fuck, he wished his sister had brought something spicy for dinner; that would have been a good explanation for the pink coloring he was sure his cheeks had now.

His sister’s eyes lit up. “Ah.” As if that explained everything. “She’s pretty then?”

Roy narrowed his eyes at his sister, unable to hide the small smile on his face. “Shut up,” he growled softly.

Her smile grew. “Oh man, she must be gorgeous. You’re so screwed.”

~

For two weeks, Roy avoided you- an impressive feat, considering you worked just across the tiny office. But the more he watched you, the stupider he felt.

You were hardworking. And kind. And funny. And fuck, the more he stared, the more he noticed little things about you that just worked to enhance your attractiveness. He should have known he’d snap eventually.

“D’you like kebabs?”

The words just came out. Despite the embarrassing amount of time he’d spent acting like a teenager, imagining the different conversations he’d initiate with you, it all went out the window at lunchtime. Instead, he blurted out the stupidest question he’d ever heard.

His pulse quickened when you paused your work and turned around. “Excuse me?”

Fuck. Even you thought he was an idiot.

You’re Roy fucking Kent. Act like it. He let out a heaving sigh as he turned his chair around, desperate to come across as uninterested and not the pining prick he felt himself becoming. “Kebabs,” he repeated slowly. “D’you like ’em?”

“Uh, I guess.” Even with your face crinkled in confusion, he still felt like he was going to have a heart attack every time he looked at you.

Not that he could let you know. “You guess?” he repeated, trying to hold back laughter at your adorably puzzled expression. “You either fuckin’ like them or you don’t.”

“Fine, fine, I like kebabs.”

He could see the smile in your eyes, even if it didn’t reach the rest of your face. He loved it. It was enough to get him on his feet. “Okay.”

Before Roy knew it, he was walking through the halls of Nelson Road, hanging onto a takeaway bag like it was a lifesaver. He’d never brought anyone lunch before. Heck, he’d never brought anyone anything before. But here he was, suddenly turned into your personal fucking delivery service.

When he walked into the office, you were again bent over your laptop, not looking up at the sound of his footsteps. Roy wasn’t surprised though; he’d learned quickly that when you were focused, it was a bit hard to divert you.

He pulled out one of the Styrofoam containers and dropped it onto your desk, wincing at the slam. When you looked up at him, he went into a scowl, hoping you wouldn’t notice the unevenness of his breathing.

“Thanks, Roy.”

Fuck. He loved the way you said his name. After all those years of having it screamed by coaches or chanted by fans, it sounded so soft, so gentle coming out of your mouth. A mouth he really needed to stop staring at.

He quickly averted his eyes to your desk. It was neat, tidy. He paused when he saw a framed photo of you, an older couple, and two teenage boys standing amid large trees.

“That your family?”

Your gaze followed his. “Oh, yeah. My folks and brothers. They live not far from here. We grew up huge Richmond fans.”

Ah. That was why you always looked nervous around him. Your family were fans. Nothing more.

Roy couldn’t resist the next question that tumbled out of his mouth. “What, no pictures of your boyfriend?” He prayed he didn’t sound too interested. “Is he fuickin’ ugly or somethin’?”

He had to be imagining the flush in your cheeks. “No boyfriend. What about you? I don’t see your model of the week on your desk.”

Your cheekiness took him by such surprise that he couldn’t resist a tiny smile. “I’m too fucking old for that shit now.”

 “Uh huh.” You looked like you’d malfunctioned. “I like kebabs.”

That was it. The moment he didn’t know he’d been waiting for his whole life. He felt like a colossal bolt of lightning had fucking punched his heart. With three little words barely squeaked past your lips, Roy Kent was a fucking goner.

~

Ted poked his head into Roy’s office, clutching a manila envelope. His face faltered slightly when he saw your empty desk. “Shoot, she took off early, didn’t she?” Roy grunted in response. “That’s right. She said somethin’ about a birthday dinner.” He sighed, glancing down at the envelope. “Well, I can give this to her on Mon-”

“I can take it to her.”

Roy didn’t know why he said that. He never volunteered to do anything extra, let alone something that would have him running around on a Friday night. But the idea of seeing your face, of getting a glimpse of you before being separated by the weekend he always found himself dreading these days, had made his mouth act without his brain.

Ted stared at him for a moment, his mustache giving a small twitch. “Aw, you really don’t gotta do that Roy. It’s not a big deal, honestly.”

“It’s fine,” Roy grumbled, not quite looking at the man.

Something sparkled in Ted’s eyes; Roy ignored it, the way he ignored most things about Ted. “Alright, well if you insist.” He handed Roy the envelope. “Do you need help pulling up her address? I could even go with you if you want.”

“Fuck no.” His answer was too quick. “I, um, she told me whereabouts she lives. I’ve got it.”

“Hmm.” Ted smiled at Roy, a soft, knowing smile that made Roy’s insides squirm. “Well, if you’re sure you’ve got it.” He waggled his fingers at Roy. “I’m sure you’ll have a great weekend, Roy.”

Roy frowned as Ted left, tailed by Beard, who gave Roy a playful smirk as well. Wankers.

He sighed as he packed up his things into his bag, wondering what the fuck he’d just signed himself up for. As he settled into the front seat of his car, he pulled out his mobile, trying to figure out what to do. He wished he had your number, but he’d never figured out the right way to ask. Maybe he should have asked Ted for help.

As he gazed as the black screen, a small ping filled the silence. He frowned and unlocked the phone; it was a Snapchat from Ted, sharing a photo of his beer with Beard in the background. Just as Roy was about to roll his eyes, he realized something. You were in that group chat. Tapping quickly, he found what he was looking for: your Snapchat location.

Ignoring the fact that he felt like an absolute fucking stalker, he started the car and headed towards the neighborhood on the screen. He zoomed in as much as he could before realizing that he couldn’t pinpoint exactly which house was yours. Fuck.

Alright, fine. He could handle this. Roy parked and grabbed the stupid manila envelope, taking one more look at the map on his phone. His mind wandered to the movie his Yoga group liked to watch together at Christmastime. Yeah, he could do this. If that spindly wanker Hugh Grant could go door to door in search of his dream girl, so could Roy fucking Kent.

He took a deep breath and approached the first door. Just fucking do it. He knocked, steeling himself for the moment you opened the door.

Except it wasn’t you. And neither was the next one. He was about halfway up the street when he started to lose his resolve. If he had to say “Yeah, I’m Roy Kent” one more time, he was going to slam his face into a wall over and over until he passed out.

With a heaving sigh, he approached the next house. He fully expected yet another granny or pimply preteen.

His face burned when he saw you.

Quickly recovering, he pushed his way inside, pretending his mind wasn’t reeling. “We should really put a fucking tracking device on you.”

“Um, not to be rude, but why are you here? At my mum and dad’s house?”

Oh. This wasn’t your house; it was your parents’. Roy couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed that he didn’t get to see your home. But he couldn’t let you know that.

“Some papers Lasso wanted you to work on if you can this weekend. Said it was important. I dunno, I don’t fucking listen to him when he yammers,” Roy lie, lie, lied.

“Oh. And how-how did you know where I was?” Roy’s heart fluttered when he saw the way you fidgeted as you spoke. Why were you nervous?

Roy acted as if his heart wasn’t aching at the sight of you. “You’re one of those idiots that has their Snapchat locations on. You’re gonna get fucking murdered one of these days y’know.”

The grin you wore could bring a man back from the dead. “And you’re gonna murder me?”

As if you didn’t murder him with that smile every fucking day. “Not today.” He couldn’t help his own smile. “But apparently if I wanted to, you’d be easy as hell to find.”

“I’ll just have to keep being a good officemate then,” you hummed, the teasing tone in your voice sending Roy’s heart into overdrive.

Without thinking, he took a step towards you, his voice rough and uncharacteristically flirty. “You’re doing a fine job so far.”

This was it. He was going to finally make his move. He was Roy fucking Kent, after all. All he had to do was grab you and kiss you.

But instead, he was tackled by a very enthusiastic father and dragged into an admittedly delicious birthday dinner. Although the domestic scene wasn’t one that he typically found himself him, Roy couldn’t help but revel in the opportunity to sit close to you, your arm brushing his far too often to be a coincidence. In the back of his head, he even allowed himself to imagine this as a regular occurrence, having dinner with your family. But he was getting far too ahead of himself.

As dinner transitioned into dessert, you excused yourself to go upstairs to grab something. Roy could have stayed at the table, hanging out with your family, charming your mother, and answering more questions from your brothers, but his stupid giant crush got the better of him. He awkwardly asked for directions to the bathroom and was pointed upstairs.

He took the stairs two at a time, at least as much as his shit knee would let him, trying to figure out what he’d say once he was face to face with you. He wasn’t sure you liked him, but he couldn’t help but hope that he wasn’t too grumpy, too old, too past his prime for a girl like you.

The muttering he heard from an ajar door pointed him in the right direction. He nudged the door open and saw you, on the floor, clearly searching for something. Before he could say anything, he took a look around the room. What he saw made his heart nearly stop.

Holy shit.

Roy Kent had never seen so many photos of himself in one location in his life. This would be a normal girl’s room if it weren’t for all the football posters covering every square inch of wall- most of them featuring his scowling face. He was sure he even saw Sharpie hearts scrawled all over the one in the corner near the window.

This had to mean something, right?

Trying to keep cool, he mumbled, “Ah, this isn’t the fucking loo.”

The panic on your face made Roy melt. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch your mortified face, to tell you that it was cute, that he wished he had a room full of posters of your gorgeous face.

Instead, he closed the door behind him and stepped forward. “Why the fuck are there so many pictures of me in this room?”

You stood up, fidgeting worse than he’d ever seen anyone. “I, uh, I told you. My family’s huge Richmond fans. You’re kind of our favorite player. Hence, my dad’s excitement when he saw you.”

Suddenly feeling bold, probably for the first time since he met you, Roy stuffed his hands in his pockets and took another look at all the posters of himself. “So… does that mean I’m your favorite too?”

His heart fluttered as he watched your blush deepen. “I… I mean… I guess.”

Unable to look at you anymore, lest he grab you and kiss you heatedly, Roy’s gaze fluttered upwards. Now he was sure his heart had stopped.

A room full of posters of him was one thing. A poster of him above your bed? Fuck, that was hot.

“Is that a fucking poster of me above your bed?”

Your squirming figure was never more attractive to him. “Oh, you know, gotta keep the monsters away somehow.”

That caught him off-guard. He couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled past his lips. Fuck, you were funny sometimes. “That’s what I’m good for? Scaring away fucking monsters?”

He felt like an arse for laughing when he saw the humiliation as you covered your face and flopped onto your bed. Your voice sounded so small. “Please don’t tell anyone. This was my room when I used to live here, I was a dumb kid. I swear to God, my flat is normal. A normal adult flat.”

Your panicked babbling was adorable.

Roy sat beside you, trying not to think too hard about the fact that he was on your bed. The bed with a poster of himself right above it, a poster you probably spent all of your teen years staring at before falling asleep.

He was relieved when you looked over at him. He knew he had to say something. “Hey, no need to be fucking embarrassed.” He glanced up at the poster. It was a damn good picture, one from his Chelsea days. “Can’t say I blame you. I was young and hot.”

Your grin was worth the self-deprecating comment. “You’re not that much older now, Kent.”

The implication made him forget how to breathe. “I’m still hot then?” He couldn’t wait for an answer before he leaned in close and cupped your face. “Please say yes,” he heard himself rasp, not caring how desperate he sounded.

He could hardly believe his ears when you whispered, “Yes.”

That was all he needed. He pressed his lips to yours and felt you melt against him. Feeling your body press against his, Roy reminded himself that this was a first kiss, that he should keep things small, sweet, chaste. Hopefully there would be time for other kinds of kissing later.

The giggle you released was the greatest sound he’d ever heard. He smiled, probably a big, stupid smile, and prepared to ask you about maybe going on a date-

“Oi!” The knocking on the door nearly made him jump. “Mum and Dad want to know if you’re snogging Roy Kent in there!”

Roy felt like a bashful teenager as he smiled at you. “Don’t suppose I can tell your brother to fuck off?” he joked.

He liked the laughter he saw in your eyes. “’d rather you didn’t.”

“Well then.” Figuring that this was the end of this particular moment of romance, Roy stood and took your hand to pull you to your feet. “Guess we should go have some fucking cake,” he joked. His gaze lingered on the poster of himself, the one above your bed. “You should bring that thing to work sometime. I can fucking autograph it if you want.”

#roy kent superstar #he's here he's there he's every fucking where #roy kent #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent fic #roy kent x reader #roy kent fluff #roy kent fanfic #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fic #ted lasso fluff

[creat0r-cat]

Markiplier x Teen!Daughter!Reader - Not the Same

Requested by: Anonymous

—------

“Dad! The doll is right there! What are you doing??” Laughed (Y/n) as her father almost left his hiding space. “I have to get the mold thing up there!” He exclaimed, moving Rose out from beneath the table and trying to run passed the enemy. His attempt was unsuccessful as it started laughing like a maniac and he started losing HP. “I tried to tell you earlier, there’s another way there, you just have to go the other way!” 

“Agh, dang it. Fine, we’ll do it your way.” Mark grumbled as he moved Rose away. Chaos ensued as after he got around the doll, the giant mannequin burst through the door. “AGH NO!!!” Cried the older YouTuber as he had the girl hide under a table.

(Y/n) was laughing, Mark jokingly telling her to be quiet. She only shook her head and decided to look at chat. There were a few people commenting how Rose reminded them a bit of (Y/n). The girl was confused but opted to ignore them, turning back to watch the game. 

Mark finally got out of the room, shouting at the dolls to stop their insulting yammering, and looked over at his daughter. “You okay?” She nodded her head, smiling reassuringly at him. “Yup, I’m fine, just thinking about something. Oh look! Michael’s back!” Indeed he was, writing glowing, worried words on the wall for Rose to read. 

As they walked through the house of memories, the two players started to put pieces together. “Okay, I’m pretty sure at this point that Michael is actually Ethan.” Commented Mark and (Y/n) nodded again. “I would be shocked if he wasn’t.” After defeating the crazy ghost girl, they fell even deeper into the world after being pushed away from harm by a male figure. 

Both father and daughter were shaking with excitement and the girl pointed at the screen. “THAT’S ETHAN!! WE CALLED IT!! THAT’S ETHAN!!” Mark, after calming down a bit, made his way through the familiar territory, (Y/n) once again looked at the chat. She frowned as there were multiple comments saying similar things to the previous one, but with a little more added on. 

“CraZGurl: Awww Mark and (Y/n) are so cute around each other! Their bond is like Rose and Ethan’s relationship!” 

“MuddBoi: @CraZGurl FR! They do give off those vibes, don't they?” 

“MyMain6Channel: It’s like watching real life versions of Rose and Ethan! <3”

“BuddiBuddy: Adorable (OwO)”

(Y/n) wondered what made them think that and spoke up. “Chat, as flattering as it is that you think Dad and I act cute around each other, I can guarantee that we aren’t like Rose and her dad in the game so stop saying that.” Mark didn’t really understand what she was talking about, but decided to keep quiet. 

As the coded father and daughter ran through a mold infested cavern and away from the final boss, the comments continued to grow with the same relative message. However, these words fell upon distracted ears as the real life duo were off in their own little worlds. Mark’s mind was in auto pilot during the big fight and he just let his mind wonder. 

“What would my life have been like if I never had a daughter?”

(Y/n) pointed out small details and provided some help while a question of her own floated around in her head. ‘What would my life be like if Dad just disappeared from my life? What if my story really was like Rose’s? Dad has been to the hospital many times for things, but what if something finally killed him? What would happen to me?’ She shook her head. ‘No, you idiot, don’t think that way. He’s tough, and even if something did happen to him, his friends have always been willing to help him out so I’d be fine.’

Mark and (Y/n) both watched as Miranda was defeated, and Rose held her dying father. It was a very emotional moment, and both Fischbachs were sad. “I’m so very proud of you. I love you, Rose.” spoke Ethan and (Y/n) felt her own dad’s arm wrap around her, bringing her closer into a partial hug. 

“I love you too, dad.”

(Y/n) subconsciously read those words out loud, her voice barely a whisper as the screen faded to white. She looked over to her right to see her dad was looking at her with a smile. He hugged her tight, and while sharing that moment with him, she looked over once again at the comment stream. With a sigh, she spoke loud enough to be heard while her face was basically pressed against Mark’s chest. 

“Don’t say that chat. I don’t want to think about losing my dad.” Mark, hearing this, looked over and read the messages. So that’s what she had been thinking about. He gave his daughter a protective squeeze and glared goofily at the camera. “Yeah, guys. As you can see I’m perfectly fine. Unless I’m not and I’m a ghost. Oooooohhhhh~” He rebukingly teased before tickling (Y/n) and smiling when she burst into laughter.

Mark knew that if something happened to him, his friends or his mom would take care of his daughter. Yes, his body was a little messed up at times, but it had been a while since anything major happened, so he wasn’t too worried about it. For the time being however, while he was still relatively healthy, he’d happily spend as much time with his little girl as possible. 

As the final cut scene played through and the credits rolled, the two Fischbachs talked about their favorite parts of the game. “I think there were a few aspects I would’ve liked to have been included in, but overall it was a good game.” Said Mark with a shrug and (Y/n) laughed.

“Yeah, you’re just disappointed that Big Waifu Lady Dimitrescu didn’t make an appearance and instead we were stuck with Smelly Mold Lady Miranda.” He playfully shoved her which made her giggle. “How dare you make such bold claims! I feel rather insulted!” 

The previous comments had been almost forgotten as the father and daughter messed around both on and then off stream. They managed to score a good story for themselves in the real world, unlike their compared counterparts in the game, and that made them happy. Sure, worried thoughts lingered in the back of their minds, but at that moment, they didn’t matter. Mark and (Y/n) were a happy family, and to them that was all they could really ask for.

#Markiplier x reader #Markiplier x daughter reader #sfw #platonic #Resident Evil DLC #Rose #Ethan #fem reader #dauther!reader #Markiplier #Sprinkle of Angst #Fluff #requested #annonymous